The Thirteenth Tale-第70章

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and　put　it　on　the　coals　in　his　place。　but　there　was　no　time　to　flee。　i　heard　steps　on　the　stone　flags；　a　dragging　noise　that　was　the　sound　of　a　petrol　can　scraping　on　the　floor；　and　the　door　opened　just　as　i　stepped　back　into　one　of　the　library　bays。

hush；　i　prayed　silently；　don’t　cry　now；　and　i　held　the　infant　close　to　my　body　so　he　would　not　miss　the　warmth　of　his　blanket。

back　at　the　fireplace；　head　on　one　side；　adeline　surveyed　her　fire。　what　was　wrong？　had　she　noticed　the　change？　but　it　appeared　not。　she　looked　around　the　room。　what　was　it　she　wanted？

the　baby　stirred；　a　jerk　of　the　arms；　a　kick　of　the　legs；　a　tensing　of　e　backbone　that　is　so　often　the　precursor　to　a　wail。　i　resettled　him；　：ad　heavy　on　my　shoulder；　i　felt　his　breath　on　my　neck。　don’t　cry。　ease　don’t　cry。　he　was　still　again；　and　i　watched。

my　books。　on　the　desk。　the　ones　i　couldn’t　pass　without　opening　at　random；　for　the　pleasure　of　a　few　words；　a　quick　hello。　how　incongruous　to　see　them　in　her　hands。　adeline　and　books？　it　looked　all　wrong。　even　when　she　opened　the　cover；　i　thought　for　one　long；　bizarre　moment　that　she　was　going　to　read—

she　tore　out　pages　by　the　fistful。　she　scattered　them　all　over　the　desk；　some　slid　off；　onto　the　floor。　when　she　had　done　with　the　ripping；　she　grabbed　handfuls　of　them　and　screwed　them　into　loose　balls。　fast！　she　was　a　whirlwind！　my　neat　little　volumes；　suddenly　a　paper　mountain。　to　think　a　book　could　have　so　much　paper　in　it！　i　wanted　to　cry　out；　but　what？　all　the　words；　the　beautiful　words；　pulled　apart　and　crumpled　up；　and　i；　in　the　shadows；　speechless。

she　gathered　an　armful　and　released　it　onto　the　top　of　the　white　blanket　in　the　fireplace。　three　times　i　watched　her　turn　from　the　desk　to　the　fireplace；　her　arms　full　of　pages；　until　the　hearth　was　heaped　high　with　torn…up　books。　jane　eyre；　wuthering　heights；　the　woman　in　white…　balls　of　paper　toppled　from　the　height　of　the　pyre；　some　rolled　as　far　as　the　carpet；　joining　those　that　she　had　dropped　en　route。

one　came　to　a　stop　at　my　feet；　and　silently　i　dropped　down　to　retrieve　it。

oh！　the　outrageous　sensation　of　crumpled　paper；　words　gone　wild；　flying　in　all　directions；　senseless。　my　heart　broke。

anger　swept　me　up；　it　carried　me　like　a　piece　of　flotsam；　unable　to　see　or　breathe；　it　roared　like　an　ocean　in　my　head。　i　might　have　cried　out；　leaped　like　a　mad　thing　from　my　hiding　place　and　struck　her；　but　i　had　emmeline’s　treasure　in　my　arms；　and　so　i　stood　by　and　watched；　trembling；　weeping　in　silence；　as　her　sister　desecrated　the　treasure　that　was　mine。

at　last　she　was　satisfied　with　her　pyre。　yet　whichever　way　you　looked　at　it；　the　mountain　in　the　hearth　was　madness　itself。　it’s　all　upside　down；　the　missus　would　have　said；　it’ll　never　light—you　want　the　paper　at　the　bottom。　but　even　if　she　had　built　it　properly；　it　would　make　no　difference。　she　couldn’t　light　it：　she　had　no　matches。　and　even　if　she　had　been　able　to　obtain　matches；　still　she　would　not　achieve　her　purpose；　for　the　boy；　her　intended　victim；　was　in　my　arms。　and　the　greatest　madness　of　all：　supposing　i　hadn’t　been　there　to　stop　her？　supposing　i　hadn’t　rescued　the　infant　and　she　had　burned　him　alive？　how　could　she　ever　imagine　that　burning　her　sister’s　child　would　restore　her　sister　to　her？

it　was　the　fire　of　a　madwoman。

in　my　arms　the　baby　stirred　and　opened　his　mouth　to　mewl。　what　to　do？　behind　adeline’s　back　i　softly　retreated；　then　fled　to　the　kitchen。

i　must　get　the　baby　to　a　place　of　safety；　then　deal　with　adeline　later。　my　mind　was　working　furiously；　proposing　plan　after　plan。　emmeline　will　have　no　love　left　for　her　sister　when　she　realizes　what　she　tried　to　do。　it　will　be　she　and　i　now。　we　will　tell　the　police　that　adeline　killed　john…the…dig；　and　they　will　take　her　away。　no！　we　will　tell　adeline　that　unless　she　leaves　angelfield　we　will　tell　the　police…　no！　and　then　suddenly　i　have　it！　we　will　leave　angelfield。　yes！　emmeline　and　i　will　leave；　with　the　baby；　and　we　will　start　a　new　life；　without　adeline；　without　angelfield；　but　together。

and　it　all　seems　so　simple　i　wonder　i　never　thought　of　it　before。

with　the　future　glowing　so　brightly　it　seems　realer　than　the　present；　i　put　the　page　from　jane　eyre　in　the　game　bag　as　well；　for　safekeeping；　and　a　spoon　that　is　on　the　kitchen　table。　we　will　need　that；　en　route　to　our　new　life。

now　where？　somewhere　not　far　from　the　house；　where　there　is　nothing　to　hurt　him；　where　he　will　be　warm　enough　for　the　few　minutes　it　will　take　me　to　e　back　to　the　house　and　fetch　emmeline　and　persuade　her　to　follow…

not　the　coach　house。　adeline　sometimes　goes　there。　the　church。　that　is　a　place　she　never　goes。

i　run　down　the　drive；　through　the　lych…gate　and　into　the　church。　in　the　front　rows　are　small　tapestry　cushions　for　kneeling。　i　arrange　them　into　a　bed　and　lay　the　baby　on　them　in　his　canvas　papoose。

now；　back　to　the　house。

i　am　almost　there　when　my　future　shatters。　shards　of　glass　flying　through　the　air；　one　breaking　window　then　another；　and　a　sinister；　living　light　prowling　in　the　library。　the　empty　window　frame　shows　me　liquid　fire　spraying　the　room；　petrol　cans　bursting　in　the　heat。　and　two　figures。

emmeline！

i　run。　the　odor　of　fire　catches　my　nostrils　even　in　the　entrance　hall；　though　the　stone　floor　and　walls　are　cool—the　fire　has　no　hold　here。　but　at　the　door　of　the　library　i　stop。　flames　chase　each　other　up　the　curtains；　bookshelves　are　ablaze；　the　fireplace　itself　is　an　inferno。　in　the　center　of　the　room；　the　twins。　for　a　moment；　in　all　the　noise　and　heat　of　the　fire；　i　stop　dead。　amazed。　for　emmeline；　the　passive；　docile　emmeline；　is　returning　blow　for　blow；　kick　for　kick；　bite　for　bite。　she　has　never　retaliated　against　her　sister　before；　but　now　she　is　doing　it。　for　her　child。

around　them；　above　their　heads；　one　burst　of　light　after　another　as　the　petrol　cans　explode　and　fire　rains　down　upon　the　room。

i　open　my　mouth　to　call　to　emmeline　that　the　baby　is　safe；　but　the　first　breath　i　draw　in　is　nothing　but　heat；　and　i　choke。

i　hop　over　fire；　step　around　it；　dodge　the　fire　that　falls　on　me　from　above；　brush　fire　away　with　my　hands；　beat　out　the　fire　that　grows　in　my　clothes。　when　i　reach　the　sisters　i　cannot　see　them；　but　reach　blindly　through　the　smoke。　my　touch　startles　them　and　they　draw　apart　instantly。　there　is　a　moment　when　i　see　emmeline；　see　her　clearly；　and　she　sees　me。　i　grip　her　hand　and　pull　her；　through　the　flames；　through　the　fire；　and　we　reach　the　door。　but　when　she　realizes　what　i　am　doing—leading　her　away　from　the　fire　to　safety—she　stops。　i　tug　at　her。

‘he’s　safe。“　my　words　e　in　a　croak；　but　they　are　clear　enough。

why　doesn’t　she　understand？

i　try　again。　“the　baby。　i　have　saved　him。”

surely　she　has　heard　me？　inexplicably　she　resists　my　tug；　and　her　hand　slips　from　mine。　where　is　she？　i　can　see　only　blackness。

i　stumble　forward　into　the　flames；　collide　with　her　form；　grasp　her　and　pull。

still　she　won’t　stay　with　me；　turns　once　more　into　the　room。　why？

she　is　bound　to　her　sister。　she　is　bound。

blind　and　with　my　lungs　burning；　i　follow　her　into　the　smoke。　i　will　break　the　bond。

eyes　closed　against　the　heat；　i　plunge　into　the　library；　arms　ahead　of　me；　searching。　when　my　hands　reach　her　in　the　smoke；　i　do　not　let　her　go。　i　will　not　have　her　die。　i　will　save　her。　and　though　she　resists；　i　drag　her　ferociously　to　the　door　and　out　of　it。

the　door　is　made　of　oak。　it　is　heavy。　it　doesn’t　burn　easily。　i　push　it　shut　behind　us；　and　the　latch　engages。

beside　me；　she　steps　forward；　about　to　open　it　again。　it　is　something　stronger　than　fire　that　pulls　her　into　that　room。

the　key　that　sits　in　the　lock；　unused　since　the　days　of　hester；　is　hot。　ft　burns　my　palm　as　i　turn　it。　nothing　else　hurts　me　that　night；　but　the　key　sears　my　palm　and　i　smell　my　flesh　as　it　chars。　emmeline　puts　out　a　land　to　clutch　the　key　and　open　it　again。　the　metal　burns　her；　and　as　she　feels　the　shock　of　it；　i　pull　her　hand　away。

a　great　cry　fills　my　head。　is　it　human？　or　is　it　the　sound　of　the　fire　itself？　i　don’t　even　know　whether　it　is　ing　from　inside　the　room　or　outside　with　me。　from　a　guttural　start　it　gathers　strength　as　it　rises；　reaches　a　shrill　peak　of　intensity；　and　when　i　think　it　must　be　at　the　end　of　its　breath；　it　continues；　impossibly　low；　impossibly　long；　boundless　sound　that　fills　the　world　and　engulfs　it　and　contains　it。

and　then　the　sound　is　gone　and　there　is　only　the　roar　of　the　fire。

outdoors。　rain。　the　grass　is　soaked。　we　sink　to　the　ground；　we　roll　in　the　wet　grass　to　damp　our　smoldering　clothes　and　hair；　feel　the　cool　wet　on　our　scorched　flesh。　on　our　backs　we　rest　there；　flat　against　the　earth。　i　open　my　mouth　and　drink　the　rain。　it　falls　on　my　face；　cools　my　eyes；　and　i　can　see　again。　never　has　there　been　a　sky　like　it；　deep　indigo　with　fast…moving　slate…black　clouds；　the　rain　ing　down　in　blade　edges　of　silver；　and　every　so　often　a　plume；　a　spray　of　bright　orange　from　the　house；　a　fountain　of　fire。　a　bolt　of　lightning　cracks　the　sky　in　two；　then　again；　and　again。

the　baby。　i　must　tell　emmeline　about　the　baby。　she　will　be　happy　that　i　have　saved　him。　it　will　make　things　all　right。

i　turn　to　her　and　open　my　mouth　to　speak。　her　f