Speaker 1: The Body Snatcher by Robert Louis Stevenson. Every night in
the year forever sat in the small parlor of the
George at Debenham, the Undertaker and the Landlord, and Fetis
and myself. Sometimes there'd be more, but blow high, blow low,
com rain, or snow or frost. We four would be
each planted in his own particular arm chair. Fettis was
an old, drunken scotchman, a man of education, obviously, and
a man of some property since he lived in idleness.
He'd come to Debenham years ago while still young, and
by a mere continuance of living, had grown to be
an adopted townsman. His blue camlet cloak was a local antiquity,
like the church spire, his place in the parlor at
the George, his absence from church, his old, crapulous, disreputable
vices were all things. Of course, in Debenham. He had
some vague, radical opinions and some fleeting infidelities, which he
would now and again set forth and emphasize with tottering
slaps upon the table. He drank rum five glasses regularly
every evening, and for the greater portion of his nightly
visit to the George sat with his glass in his
right hand, in a state of melancholy alcoholic saturation. We
called him the Doctor, for he was supposed to have
some special knowledge of medicine, and had been known upon
a pinch to set a fracture or reduce a dislocation.
But beyond these slight particulars we had no knowledge of
his character and antecedents. One dark winter night, it had
struck nine some time before the Landlord joined us, there
was a sick man, and the George, a great neighboring proprietor,
suddenly struck down with apoplexy on his way to Parliament,
and the great Man's still greater London doctor had been
telegraphed to his bedside. It was the first time that
such a thing had happened in Debenham, for the railway
was but newly open, and we were all proportionately moved
by the occurrence. He's come, said the Landlord, after he
had filled and light at his pipe. He said, I
who not the doctor himself, replied our host, Then what's
his name? Doctor mac Farland said The Landlord Fetters was
far through his third tumbler, stupidly fonddled now nodding over now,
staring maisly around him. But at the last word he
seemed to awaken and repeat the name mac Farland twice,
quietly enough the first time, but with certain sudden emotion
at the second. Yes, said the landlord, that's his name,
Doctor Wulf mac Farland. Fes became instantly sober, his eyes awoke,
his voice became clear, loud and steady, his language forcible
and earnest. We were all startled by the transformation, as
if a man had risen from the dead. I beg
your pardon, he said, I am afraid I have not
been paying much attention to your talk. Who is this
Wolf mac Farlane? And then, when he had heard the
landlord ot, it cannot be, it cannot be, he added,
Yet I would like well to see him face to face.
Do you know him, doctor, asked the undertaker, with a gasp.
God forbid was the reply in. Yet the name is
a strange one. It were too much to fancy too.
Tell me, Landlord, is he old, well, said the host.
He's not a young man, to be sure, and his
hair is white, but he looks younger than you. He
is older, though years older, but with a slap upon
the table. It's the rum you see in me face,
rum and sin. This man perhaps may have an easy
conscience and a good digestion conscience. Hear me speak, he
would think I was some good, old, decent Christian, would
you not? But no, not I. I never canted. Voltaire
might have canted if it stood in my shoes. But
that the brains with a rattling Philip on his bald head.
The brains were clear and active, and I saw and
made no deductions. If you know this, doctor, I ventured
to remark, after a somewhat awful paut, I should gather
that you do not share the landlord's good opinion. Fedis
paid no regard to me. Yes, he said, with sudden decision,
I must see him face to face. There was another pause,
and then a door was closed rather sharply on the
first floor, and a step was heard upon the stair
that's the doctor, cried the landlord. Look look sharp, and
you can catch him. It was but two steps from
the small parlor to the door of the old George Inn.
The wide oak staircase landed almost in the street. There
was room for a turkey rug and nothing more between
the threshold and the last round of the descent. But
this little space was every evening brilliantly lit up, not
only by the light upon the stair and the great
signal lamp below the sign, but by the warm radiance
of the bar room window. The George thus brightly advertised
itself to pass her spy in the cold street. Fedis
walked steadily to the spot, and we, who were hanging behind,
beheld the two men meet, as one of them had
phrased it, face to face. Doctor mac farland was alert
and vigorous, his white hair set off his pail, and
placid said although energetic countenance. He was richly dressed in
the finest of broadcloth and the whitest of linen, with
a great gold watch chain and studs and spectacles of
the same precious material. He wore a broad folded tie,
white and speckled with the lilac, and he carried on
his arm a comfortable driving coat of fur. There was
no doubt but he became his years, breathing as he did,
of wealth and consideration. And it was a surprising contrast
to see our parlors sot bald, dirty, pimpled and robed
in his old camlet Cloak confront him at the bottom
of the stairs. Mac Farland, he said, somewhat loudly, more
like a herald than a friend. The great doctor pulled
up short on the fourth step, as though the familiarity
of the address surprised and somewhat shocked his dignity. Tade
mac Farland repeated Ferris. The London men almost staggered. He
stared for the swiftest of seconds at the man before him,
glanced behind him with a sort of scare, and then
in a startled whisper fettis he said, you aye, said
the other me. Did you think I was dead too?
We are not so easy shot of our acquaintance. Hush, hush,
explained the doctor. Hush, hush, this meeting is so unexpected.
I can see you are unmanned. I hardly knew you,
I confess at first. But I am overjoyed, overjoyed to
have this opportunity. For the present it must be how
do you do? And good bye? In one for my
fly is waiting and I must not fail the train.
But you shall let me see. Yes, you shall give
me your address, and you can count on early news
of me. We must do something for you fettis. I
fear you were out at elbows. But we must see
to that. For old langzan As once we sang at suppers,
money cried fetis, money from you. The money that I
had from you is lying when I cast it in
the rain. Doctor mac farland had talked himself into some
measure of superiority and confidence. But the uncommon energy of
this refusal cast him back into his first confusion. A horrible,
ugly look came and went across his almost venerable countenance.
But my dear fellow, he said, be it, be it
as you please. My last thought is to offend you
a I would intrude on none. I will leave you
my address, However I do not wish it. I do
not wish to know the roof that shelters you interrupted
the other I heard your name. I feared it might
be you. I wished to know if, after all there
were a god. I know now there is none. Be gone.
He still stood in the midst of the rug between
the stairs and the doorway, and the great London Physician,
in order to escape, would be forced to step to
one side. It was plain that he hesitated before the thought
of this humiliation. Quite as he was, there was a
dangerous glitter in his spectacles. But while he still paused, uncertain,
he became aware that the driver of his fly was
peering in from the street at this unusual scene, and
caught a glimpse at the same time of our little
body from the parlor by the corner of the barn.
The presence of so many witnesses sided him at once
to flee. He crouched together, brushing on the wainscot, and
made a dart like a serpent, striking for the door.
But his tribulation was not yet entirely at an end,
for even as he was passing, Fetis clutched him by
the arm, and these words came in a whispering, yet
painfully distinct. Have you seen it again? The great rich
London doctor, cried out aloud with a sharp, throttling cry.
He dashed his questioner across the open space, and with
his hands over his head, fled out the door like
a detected thief. Before it had occurred to one of
us to make a movement, the flight was already rattling
toward the station. The scene was over, like a dream,
but the dream had left proofs and traces of its passage.
The next day the servant found the fine gold spectacles
broken on the threshold, And that very night we were
all standing breathless by the barroom window, and Fetis at
are aside, sober and pale and resolute in look, God
protect us, mister Fettis, said the landlord, coming first into
possession of his customary senses. What in the universe is
all this? These are strange things you have been saying.
Fetis turned toward us. He looked us, each in succession
in the face. See if you can hold your tongue,
said he, That man mac Farland is not safe to cross.
Those that have done so already have repented it too late.
And then, without so much as finishing his third glass,
far less waiting for the other two, he bade us
good by and went forth under the lamp of the
hotel into the black night. We three turned to our
places in the parlor and the big red fire and
four clear candles, and as we recapitulated what had passed,
the first chill of our surprise soon changed into a
glow of curiosity. We sat late. It was the latest
session I have known in the old George. Each man
before we parted had his theory that he was bound
to prove. And none of us had any nearer business
in this world than to track out the past of
our condemned companion. And I suppose the secret that he
shared with the great London doctor. It's no great boast,
but I believe I was a better hand at worming
out a story than either of my fellows at the George.
And perhaps there is now no other man alive who
could narrate it to you and tell you the following
foul and unnatural events. In his young days, Fetis studied
medicine and schools of Edinburgh. He had talent of a kind,
the talent that picks up swiftly on what it hears
and readily retails it for its own. He worked little
at home, but he was civil, attentive, and intelligent in
the presence of his masters. They soon picked him out
as a lad who listened closely and remembered well. Nay
strange as it seemed to me when I first heard it,
He was in those days well favored and pleased by
his exterior. There was at that period a certain extramural
teacher of anatomy, whom I shall here designate by the
letter K. His name was subsequently too well known, the
man who bore its s cult through the streets of
Edinburgh in disguise, while the mob that applauded at the
execution of Burke called loudly for the blood of his employer.
But mister Kay was then at the top of his
beaux vogue. He enjoyed a popularity due partly to his
own talent and addressed partly to the incapacity of his rival,
the university professor. The students at least swore by his name,
and Fetis believed himself and was believed by others, to
have laid the foundations of success when he had acquired
the favor of this meteorically famous man. Mister Kay was
a beau vivant as well as an accomplished teacher. He
liked a sly allusion no less than a careful preparation.
In both capacities, Fetis enjoyed and deserved his notice, and
by the second year of his attendance he held the half
regular position of second demonstrator or sub assistant in his class.
In this capacity, the charge of the theater and lecture
room devolved in particular upon his shoulders. He had to
answer for the cleanliness of the premises and the conduct
of the other students, and it was a part of
his duty to supply, receive, and divide the various subjects.
It was with a view to this last, at that
time very delicate affair, that he was lodged by mister
Kay in the same wind and at last in the
same building with the dissecting room. Here, after a night
of turbulent pleasures, his hands still tottering, his sight still
misty and confused, he would be called out of bed
in the black hours before the winter dawn by the
unclean and desperate interlopers who supplied the table. He would
open the door to these men, since infamous throughout the land.
He would help them with their tragic burden, pay them
their sordid price, and remain alone when they were gone
with the unfriendly relics of humanity. From such a scene,
would return to snatch another hour or two of slumber,
to repair the abuses of the night, and refresh himself
for the labors of the day. Few lads could have
been more insensible to the impressions of a life thus
passed among the ensigns of mortality. His mind was closed
against all general considerations. He was incapable of interest in
the fate and fortunes of another, the slave of his
own desires and low ambitions, cold light and selfish. In
the last resort, he had that modicum of prudence miscalled morality,
which keeps a man from inconvenient drunkenness or punishable theft.
He coveted besides a measure of consideration from his masters
and his fellow pupils, and he had no desire to
fail conspicuously in the external parts of life. Thus he
made it his pleasure to gain some distinction in his studies,
and day of to day rendered unimpeachable eye service to
his employer, mister Kay. For his day of work, he
indemnified himself by knights of roaring blackguardly enjoyment, And when
that balance had been struck, the organ that he called
his conscience declared his self content. The supply of subjects
was a continual trouble to him as well as to
his master. In that large and busy class. The raw
material of the anatomists kept perpetually running out, and the
business thus rendered necessary was not only unpleasant in itself,
but threatened dangerous consequences to all who were concerned. It
was the policy of mister Kay to ask no questions
in his dealings with the trade. They bring the body,
and we pay the price, he used to say, dwelling
on the alliteration quid pro quo, and again, somewhat profanely
ask no questions. He would tell his assistance for conscience sake.
There was no understanding that the subjects were provided by
the crime of murder. Had that idea had been broached
to him in words, he would have recoiled in horror.
But the likeness of his speech upon so grave a
matter was in itself an offense against good manners, and
a temptation to the men with whom he dealt. Fetis,
for instance, had often remarked to himself upon the singular
freshness of the bodies, he had been struck again and
again by the hang dog abominable look of the Ruffians
who came to him before the dawn, and putting things
together clearly in his private thoughts he perhaps attributed a
meaning too immoral and too categorical to the unguarded councils
of his master. He understood his duty, in short, to
have three branches, to take what was brought, to pay
the price, and to avert the eye from any evidence
of crime. One November morning, this policy of silence was
put sharply to the test. He had been awake all
night with a racking toothache, pacing his room like a
caged beast, or throwing himself in fury on his bed,
and had fallen at last into that profound, uneasy slumber
that so often follows on a night of pain. When
he was awakened by the third or fourth angry repetition
to concerted signal, there was a thin, bright moonshine. It
was bitter cold, windy, and frosty. The town had not
yet awakened, but an indefinable stir already precluded the noise
and business of the day. The ghouls had come later
than usual, and they seemed more than usually eager to
be gone. Fedis sick with sleep lighted them upstairs. He
heard their grumbling irish voices through a dream, and as
they stripped the sack from their sad merchandise, he leaned,
dozing with his shoulder propped against the wall. He had
to shake himself to find the men their money, As
he did so, his eyes lighted on the dead face.
He started. He took two steps nearer with the candle. Right,
God Almighty, that is Jane Gollbraith. The men answered nothing,
but they shuffled nearer the door. Why I know where,
I tell you, he continued. She was alive and hearty yesterday.
It's impossible she can be dead. It's it's impossible. You
should have got this body fairly, chaucer. You must iChon entirely,
said one of the men. But the other looked feedis
darkly in the eyes and demanded the money on the spot.
It was impossible to misconceive the threat or to exaggerate
the danger. The lad's heart failed him. He stammered some excuses,
counted out the summon, saw his hateful visitors depart. No
sooner were they gone than he hastened to confirm his
doubts by a dozen unquestionable marks. He identified the girl
he had jested with the day before. He saw with
horror marks upon her body that might well betoken violence.
The panic seized him, and he took refuge in his room.
There he reflected at length over the discovery that he
had made, considered soberly the bearing of mister Kay's instructions
and the danger to himself of interference in so serious
a business, and at last, in sore perplexity, determined to
wait for the advice of his immediate superior, the class assistant.
This was a young doctor Wolf mac farlane, a high
favorite among all the reckless students. Clever, dissipated, and unscrupulous
to the last degree. He had traveled and studied abroad.
His manners were agreeable and a little forward. He was
an authority on the stage, skillful on the ice or
the links, with skate or golf club. He dressed with
nice audacity, and to put the finishing touch upon his glory,
he kept a gig in a strong trotting horse with fettis.
He was on terms of intimacy. Indeed, their relative positions
called for some community of life, and when subjects were scarce,
the pair would drive far into the country in mc
farland's gig, visit and desecrate some lonely graveyard, and returned
before dawn with their booty to the door of the
dissecting room. On that particular morning, mc farland arrived somewhat
earlier than his wont Fetts heard him and met him
on the stairs, told him his story, and showed him
the cause of his alarm. Mac farland examined the marks
on her body. Yes, he said, with a nod, it
looks fishy. Well, well what should I do? Asked Fetis?
Do repeat the other? Do you want to do anything? Least?
Said soonest men? Did? I should say? Some one else
might recognize her, objected Fettis. She was as well known
as the castle rock, we'll hope not, said mc farland.
And but it does well you didn't, don't you say?
And there's an end to it. The fact is this
has been going on too long. Stir up the mud
and you'll get kay into the most unholy trouble. You'll
be in a shocking box yourself, So will I if
you come to that. I should like to know how
any of us would look, or what the devil we
should have to say for ourselves in any Christian witness box.
For me, you know there's one thing certain that practically speaking,
all our subjects have been murdered. MacFarland cried, Fettis, come now,
sneered the other, as if you hadn't suspected it yourself. Well,
Suspecting is one thing, and proof another. Yes, I know,
and I'm as sorry as you are. This should have
come here tapping the body with his cane. The next
best thing for me is not to recognize it, and
he added coolly, I don't you may if you please.
I don't dictate, but I think a man of the
world would do as I do, And I may add
I fancy that is what kay would look for at
your hands. The question, of course, is why did each
choose us too for his assistance? And I answered because
he didn't want old wives. This was the tone of
all others to affect the mind of a lad like Feedis.
He agreed to imitate mac farlane. The body of the
unfortunate girl was duly dissected, and no one remarked or
appear to recognize her. One afternoon in his day's works
were over, Fedis dropped into a popular tavern and found
mac Farland sitting with a stranger. This was a small man,
very pale and dark, with cold black eyes. The cut
of his features gave a promise of intellect and refinement,
which was but feebly realized in his manners, For he
proved upon a nearer acquaintance. Coarse, vulgar, and stupid. He exercised, however,
a very remarkable control over. MacFarlane issued orders like the
Great bashoror became inflamed at the least discussion or delay,
and commented rudely on the civility with which he was
a babe. This most offensive person took a fancy to
feedis on the spot, plied him with drinks, and honored
him than usual confidences on his past career. If a
tenth part of what he confessed were true, he was
a very loathsome rogue, and the lad's vanity was tickled
by the attention of so experienced a man. I'm a
pretty bad fellow myself, the stranger remarked. But mac farland,
he's a boy, Toddy mc farland. I call him totty.
Why are you find another glass? Or it might be
totty you jump up and shut the door Toarty hates me?
He said again, Oh yes, totty you do. Don't you
call me that confounded name, growled mc farland. Hear him.
Did you ever see the lads play knife? He'd like
to do that all over my body, remarked the stranger.
We medicals have a better way than that, said Fettis.
When we dislike a dead friend of ours, we dissect him.
Mc farland looked up sharply, as though this jest was
scarcely to his mind. The afternoon passed, Gray, for that
was the stranger's name, invited Fettis to join them at dinner,
ordered a feasts so sumptuous that the tavern was thrown
in commotion, and when all was done, commanded mac farland
to settle the bill. It was late before they separated.
The man Gray was incapably drunk. MacFarland, sobered by his fury,
chewed to the cut of the money he had been
forced to squander, and the slights he had been obliged
to swallow, Fedis, with various liquors singing in his head,
returned home with devious footsteps and a mind entirely in abeyance.
Next day mac farland was absent from the class, and
Feedis smiled to himself as he imagined him still squiring
the intolerable Gray from tavern to tavern. As soon as
the hour of liberty had struck, he posted from place
to place in quest of his last night's companions. He
could find them however, nowhere, so returned early to his rooms,
went early to bed, and slept the sleep of the trust.
At four in the morning, he was awakened by the
well known signal. Descending to the door, he was filled
with astonishment to find mac farlane with his gig, and
in the gig one of those long and ghastly packages
with which he was so well acquainted. What, he cried,
Have you been out alone? How did you manage? But
mc farland silenced him, roughly, bidding him turn to business.
When they had got the body upstairs and laid it
on the table, mac farland made it first as if
he were going away. Then he paused and seemed to hesitate.
And then you had better look at the face, said
mc farland, In terms of some constraint. You had better,
he repeated, as Fetis only stared at him in wonder.
But but where and how and when did you come by?
It cried the other. Look at the face was the
only answer. Fetis was staggered. Strange doubts assailed him. He
looked from the young doctor to the body, and then
back again. At last, with a start, he did as
he was bidden. He had almost expected the sight that
met his eyes, and yet the shock was cruel to
see fixed him the rigidity of death, and naked on
that course layer of sackcloth, the man whom he had
left well clad and full of meat, and upon the
threshold of a tavern, awoke even in the thoughtless Fetis
some of the terrors of the conscience. It was a
grass tibby which re echoed in his soul that two
whom he had known should have come to lie upon
these icy tables. Yet these were only secondary thoughts. His
first concern regarded Wolf. Unprepared for a challenge so momentous,
he knew not how to look his comrade in the face.
He durst not meet his eye, and he had neither
words nor voice at his command. It was mac Farland
himself who made the first advance. He came up quietly
behind and laid his hand gently but firmly on the
other shoulder. Richardson said, he may have the head. Now.
Richardson was a student who had long been anxious for
that portion of the human subject to dissect. There was
no answer, and the murderer resumed a talking of business.
You must pay me your accounts, you see, must tally
Fetis found a voice, the ghost of his own. Pay you,
He cried you for that? Why, yes, yes, course you must,
by all means, and on every possible account, you must
returned the other. I dare not give it for nothing.
You dare not take it for nothing. It would compromise
us both. This is another case like Chain Galbraate's. The
more things are wrong, the more we must act as
if all were right. Where does O Kay keep his money? There,
answered Feedis, hoarsely, pointing to a cupboard in the corner.
Give me the key, then said the other, calmly, holding
out his hand. There was an instant's hesitation, and the
die was cast. Mac Farland could not suppress a nervous twitch,
the infinitesimal mark of an immense relief, as he felt
the key between his fingers. He opened the cupboard, brought
out pen and ink, and a paper book that stood
in one compartment and separated from the fronts in a drawer,
a sum suitable to the occasion. Now look here, he said,
there is the payment made, first proof of your good fate,
first step to your security. You have now to clinch
it by a second. Enter the payment in your book,
and then you for your part may defy the devil.
The next few seconds were for Fettis an agony of thought,
but in balancing his terrors, it was the most immediate
the triumph. Any future difficulty seemed almost welcome if he
could avoid a present quarrel with mac farland. He set
down the candle which he had been carrying all his time,
and with his steady hand entered the date, the nature,
and the amount of the transaction. And now said mc farland,
it's only fair that you should pocket the lucre. I've
had my share already by the bye. When a man
of the world falls into a bit of luck, he
has a few shillings extra in his pocket. I'm ashamed
to speak of it, but there's a rule of conduct
in the case. No treating, no purchase of expensive class books,
no squaring of old debts, borrow, don't lend. Mac farland
began feedtis, still somewhat hoarsely. I've put my neck a
halter to oblige you, to oblige me, cried wolf. Come
you did, as near as I can see the matter,
what you downright had to do in self defense? Suppose
I got into trouble, Where would you be this second
little matter flows clearly from the first. Mister Gray, is
the continuation of miss Galbray. You can't begin and then stop.
If you begin, you must keep on beginning. That's the truth.
No rest for the wicked. A horrible sense of blackness
and the treachery of fate seized hold upon the soul
of the unhappy student. My god, he cried, but what
have I done? And when did I begin to be
made a class assistant? In the name of reason? Where's
the harm in that service wanted? The position service might
have got it? Would he have been where I am now?
My dear fellow, said mc crarly, What a boy you are?
What harm has come to you? What harm can come
to you? If you your tongue? Why? Men, do you
know what this life is? There are two squads of us,
the lions and the lambs. If you're a lamb, you'll
come to lie upon these tables, like Gray or Jane Galbray.
If you're a lion, you'll live and drive a horse
like me, like Kay, like all the world with any
witted courage. You're staggered at the first, But look at Kay,
my dear fellow, you're clever. You have pluck. I like you,
and Kay likes you. You were born to lead the hunt.
And I tell you, on my honor and my experience
of life, three days from now you'll laugh at all
these scarecrows like a high school boy at a farce.
And with that mac Farland took his departure and drove
off up the wind in his gig to get under
cover before daylight. Fedis was thus left alone with his regrets.
He saw the miserable peril in which he stood involved.
He saw with inexpressible dismay, that there was no limit
to his weakness, and that from concession to concession he
had fallen, from the arbiter of Macfarland's destiny to his
paid and helpless accomplice. He would have given the world
to have been a little braver at the time, but
it did not occur to him that he might still
be brave. The secret of Jane Galbray and the cursed
entry in the day Book closed his mouth. Hours passed
as the class began to arrive. The members of the
Unhappy Gray were dealt out to one and to another,
and received without remark. Richardson was made happy with the head,
and before the hour of freedom, rang Fetis trembled with
exultation to perceive how far they had already gone towards safety.
For two days he continued to watch with increasing joy
the dreadful process of disguise. On the third day, MacFarlane
made his appearance. He had been ill, he said, but
he made up for lost time by the energy with
which he directed the student. To Richardson in particular, he
extended the most valuable assistance and advice, and that student,
encouraged by the praise of the demonstrator, burned high with
ambition hopes, and saw the meddle already in his grasp.
Before the week was out, mac Farland's prophecy had been fulfilled, Fedis,
had outlived his terrors and had forgotten his baseness. He
began to plume himself upon his courage, and had so
arranged the story in his mind that he could look
back on these events with an unhealthy pride of his accomplice.
He saw. But little they met, of course, in the
business of the class. They received their orders together from
mister Kay. At times they had a word or two
in private, and mac farland was from first to last
particularly kind and jovial. But it was plain that he
avoided any reference to their common secret, And even when
Fedis whispered to him that he had cast in his
lot with the lions and forsworn the lambs, he only
signed to him smilingly, to hold his peace at length.
An occasion arose which threw the pair once more into
a closer union. Mister Kay was again short of subjects.
Pupils were eager, and it was a part of this
teacher's pretensions to be always well supplied. At the same time,
there came the news of a burial in the rustic
graveyard of Glen Coose. Time has little changed the place
in question. It stood then as now upon a cross road,
out of call of human habitations, and buried fathoms deep
in the foliage of six cedar trees. The cries of
the sheep upon the neighboring hills, the streamlets upon either hand,
one loudly singing among pebbles, the other dripping furtively from
pond to pond, the stir of the wind in the
mountainous old flowering chestnuts, and once in seven days the
voice of the bell, and the old tombs of the
precenter were the only sounds that disturbed the silence round
the rural church. The resurrection man, to use a by
name of the period, was not to be deterred by
any of the sanctities of customary piety. It was part
of his trade to despise and desecrate the scrolls and
trumpets of old tombs, the paths worn by the feet
of worshippers and mourners, and the offerings and the inscription
of bereaved affection to rustic neighborhoods where love is more
than commonly tenacious, and where some bonds of blood or
fellowship unite the entire society of a parish. The body snatcher,
far from being repelled by natural respect, was attracted by
the ease and safety of the task to bodies that
had been laid in earth in joyful expectation of a
far different awakening. There came that hasty, lamp lit terror,
haunted resurrection of the spade and mattic. The coffin was forced,
the crements torn, and the melancholy relics clad in sackcloth,
after being rattled for hours on moonless byways, were at
length exposed to uttermost indignities. For a class of gaping
boys somewhat as two vultures may swoop upon a dying lamb.
Fetus and MacFarlane were to be let loose upon a
grave in that green and quiet resting place. The wife
of a farmer, a woman who had lived for sixty
years and been known for nothing but good butter and
a godly conversation, was to be rooted from her grave
at midnight and carried dead and naked to that far
away city that she had always honored with her Sunday's best.
The place beside her family was to be empty till
the crack of doom, her innocent and almost venerable members
to be exposed to that last curiosity of the anatomist.
Late one afternoon, the pair set forth, well wrapped in
cloaks and furnished with a formidable bottle. It rained without
remission a cold, dense, lashing rain. Now and again there
blew a puff of wind, but these sheets of falling
water kept it down, bottle and all. It was a
sad and silent drive as far as Pennacock, where they
were to spend the evening. They stopped once to hide
their implements in a thick bush not far from the churchyard,
and once again at the Fisher's tryst to have a
toast before the kitchen fire, and vary their nips of
whisky with a glass of ale. When they reached their
journey's end, the gig was The horse was fed and comforted,
and the two young doctors, in a private room sat
down to the best dinner and the best wine the
house afforded. The lights, the fire, the beating rain upon
the window, the cold, incongruous work that lay before them
added zest to their enjoyment of the meal. With every
glass their cordiality increased. Soon mac farland handed a little
pile of gold to his companion, a compliment, he said,
between friends, these little damned accommodations ought to fly like
pipe lights. Ferris pocketed the money and applauded the sentiment
to the echo. You are a philosopher, he cried, I
was an ass till I knew you. You'll encave between
you by the Lord Harry, but you'll make a man
out of maid. Of course we will have lauded mc
farland a man. I tell you, it required a man
to back me up. The other morning, there are some
big brawling forty year old cowards who would have turned
sick at the sight of the damn thing. But not you.
You kept your head. I watched you well, and why
not Feris thus paunted himself. There was no affair of mine.
There was nothing to gain on the one side but disturbance.
And on the other I could count on your gratitude,
don't you say? And he slapped his pocket till the
gold pieces rang. Mac Farland somehow felt a certain touch
of alarm at these unpleasant words. He may have regretted
that he had taught his young companion so successfully, but
he had no time to interfere. For the other noisily
continued in this boastful strain. The great thing is not
to be afraid. Now between you and me, I don't
want to hang, and it's practical. But for all, count
mac Farland, I was born with a contempt o God, devil, right, wrong, sin, crime,
and all the other old gallery of curiosity. They may
frighten boys, but men of the world like you and
me despise them. Here's to the memory of Gray. It
was by this time growing somewhat late. The gig, according
to was brought round to the door with both lamps
brightly shining, and the young men had to pay their
bill and take the road. They announced that they were
bound for Peebles, and drove in that direction till they
were clear of the last houses of the town. Then,
extinguishing the carriage lamps, were turned upon their course and
followed a by road toward Glen Course. There was no
sound but that of their own passage and the incessant,
strident pouring of the rain. It was pitch dark, and
here and there a white gate or a white stone
in the wall guided them for a short space across
the night. But for the most part it was at
a foot pace and almost groping, that they picked their
way through that resonant blackness to their solemn and isolated
destination in the sunken woods that traverse the neighborhood of
the burying ground. The last glimmer failed them, and it
became necessary to kindle a match and re illumine one
of the lanters of the gig. Thus, under the dripping trees,
and environed by huge and moving shadows, they reached the
scene of their unhallowed labors. They were both experienced in
such affairs and powerful with the spade, and they had
scarce been twenty minutes at their task before they were
rewarded by a dull rattle on the coffin lid. At
the same time, mac Farlane, having hurt his hand upon
a stone, flung it carelessly above his head. The grave
in which they now stood almost to the shoulders, was
close to the edge of the plateau of the graveyard,
and the gig lamp had been propped, the better to
illuminate their labors. Against a tree, and on the immediate
verge of the steep bank descending to the stream. Chance
had taken a sure aim with the stone. Then came
a clang of broken glass. Night fell upon them. Sounds,
alternately dull and ringing, announced the bounding of the lantern
down the bank, and its occasional collision with the trees.
A stone or two, which it had dislodged in its descent,
rattled behind it into the profundities of the glen. And
then silence, like night resumed its sway, and they might
bend their hearing to its utmost pitch, but naught was
to be heard except the rain, now marching to the
wind now steadily falling over miles of open country. They
were so nearly at an end of their bared task,
that they judged it wisest to complete it in the dark.
The coffin was exhumed and broken open, the body inserted
in the dripping sack, and carried between them to the gig,
one mounted to keep it in its place, and the other,
taking the horse by the mouth, roped along by wall
and bush until they reached the wider road. By the
fissure's tryst, here was a faint, diffused radiancy, which they
hailed like daylight. By that they pushed the horse to
a good pace, and began to rattle along merrily in
the direction of the town. They had both been wetted
to the skin during their operations, and now as the
gig jumped among the deep ruts, the thing that stood
propped between them fell now upon one, and now upon
the other. At every repetition of the horrid contact, each
instinctively repelled it with a greater haste, and the process
natural enough, as it was began to tell upon the
nerves of the companions. Mac Farland made some ill favored
jest about the farmer's wife, but it came hollowly from
his lips and was allowed to drop in silence. Still
their unnatural burden bumped from side to side, And now
the head would be laid, as if in confidence, upon
their shoulders. And now the drenching sackcloth would flap icily
about their faces. A creeping chill began to possess the
soul of Fetis. He peered at the bundle, and it
seemed somewhat larger than at first. All over the countryside,
or from every degree of distance, the farm dogs accompanied
their passage with tragic eululations. And it grew and grew
upon his mind that some unnatural miracle had been accomplished,
that some nameless change had befallen the dead body, and
that it was in fear of their unholy burden. The
dogs were howling. For God's sake, said he, making a
great have to arrive at speech. For God's sakes, let's
have a light. Seemingly, mac Farland was effected in the
same direction, for though he made no reply, he stopped
the horse, passed the reins to his companion, got down,
and proceeded to kindle the remaining lamp. They had by
that time got no further than the cross road down
the och and clime The rain still poured as though
the deluge were returning, and it was no easy matter
to make a light in such a world of wet
and darkness. When at last the flickering blue flame had
been transferred to the wick and began to expand and clarify,
and shed a wide circle of misty brightness round the gig,
it became possible for the two young men to see
each other and the thing they had along with them.
The rain had molded the rough sacking to the outlines
of the body underneath. The head was distinct from the trunk,
the shoulders plainly modeled something at once spectral and human.
Riveted their eyes upon the ghastly comrade of their drive.
For some time, McFarland stood motionless, holding up the lamp.
A nameless dread was swathed like a wet sheet about
the body and tightened the white skin upon the face
of fetis, A fear that was meaningless, a horror of
what could not be kept mounting to his brain. Another
beat of the watch and he had spoken, but his
comrade forestalled him. It that is not a woman, said
mac farland in a hushed voice. It was a woman
when we put her in whispered, EDDI hold that lamp,
said the other, I must must see her face. As
Fetis took the lamp, his companion untied the fastenings of
the sack and drew down the cover from the head.
The light fell very clear upon the dark, well molded
features and smooth shaven cheeks of a too familiar countenance
often beheld in dreams of both of these young men.
A wild yell rang up into the night. Each leaped
from his own side into the roadway. The lamp fell
broke and was extinguished, and the horse, terrified by this
unusual commotion, bounded and went off towards Edinburgh at a gallop,
bearing along with it sole occupant of the gig, the
body of the dead and long dissected gray and of
the body snatched by Robert Louis Stevenson