Punch's Cousin, Chapter 21

“Whatever do you mean, Sir?” Arthur asked, pulling back the slickness of his lips to reveal those teeth of his—those teeth yellowed by tobacco and years of bilious boot-licking. “Who has come for you?”


Arthur walked into the cabin and set a silver tray of sandwiches and broth onto the writing desk.

“She…” Julian trembled. He inhaled, trying to steady himself. Arthur was no ally. The relief that Julian had initially felt faded away, melting into his feet to comingle with the pool of churning, nervous blood which weighed him to the floor.

“I…I don’t know.” Julian shook his head. “Let’s…I…”

“You’ll be wanting somethin’ to eat, I suspect, Sir.” Arthur chirped in his false cheerfulness.

“I suppose.” Julian swallowed hard. The thought of food did not appeal to him.

Arthur set about arranging a place-setting on the desk for Julian. All the while, he hummed a tune.

“Must you hum like that?” Julian asked.

“Begging your pardon, Sir.” Arthur replied, baring his teeth again. “Only it’s a song what they’ve been singing below. You know it, Sir. I recall you singing it when you was young still, and, not so nervous all the time.”

“I’m hardly old.” Julian frowned.

“Of course, Sir.” Arthur nodded, his green eyes glinting like wicked peridots. “You remember the song, Sir? ‘In Scarlet Town, where I was born…’”

“I know the song. It’s ‘Barbara Allen.’”

“Reminds me of a young lass I knew once. Oh, but she was a corker. Cold as ice, that one was. But, in her face was fire.” Arthur caught himself, and stopped talking.

“Yes.” Julian nodded—trying not to gag at the smell of the broth.

“Only it’s just a song I like,” Arthur muttered. He turned to Julian. “Speaking of ladies, Sir, I smell perfume in the air.” He grinned a taunting smirk. “Have you been entertaining ladies, Sir?”

“No, Arthur. You know well that I haven’t.”

“Isn’t that right? So, then, Lord Fallbridge, who was what you said come for you?” Arthur asked.

“Never you mind.” Julian shook his head.

“Course not, Sir.” Arthur chuckled softly. “Now then, this food wants eating. But, first, your med’cin.”

“Medicine?” Julian asked. “What medicine. I don’t take medicine.”

“Only it’s what the doctor gave me for you to take.” Arthur said, taking a small brown bottle from the pocket of his coat. “You know, Sir? That friend of yours, Mr. Halifax. He said you should take two spoonfuls of this before you took your meal.”

“Did he?” Julian asked, clenching his fists to keep his hands from shaking. “When did he do this?”

“Just now, Sir, in the passage.” Arthur removed a spoon from the tray. “Now, sit down here, if you will, and I’ll give you this.”

Julian remembered the foul-tasting medicine that Nanny would give him as a child—that awful syrup that tasted of bitter, rotten fruit and vinegar. How he hated it! How it had made his eyes water and his head swim.

“Just two spoonfuls, then, some nice sandwiches,” Arthur grinned. He uncorked the bottle and the smell of roses in the cabin was replaced with the vile stench of the tincture.

“That’s what Nanny would say.” Julian walked toward the porthole and opened it. Even the sting of the sea air was better than the fetid aroma of that syrup.

“Nanny, Sir?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, when I was a boy. You remember Nanny. She came back when Lady Barbara was small. She left shortly after you came to work with us.”

“Oh, yes, Your Lordship. That one. She was a hard one, wasn’t she?”

“Yes.” Julian nodded.

“You’ll be wanting to take this now, Sir.” Arthur walked toward Julian with the spoon. “I was given instructions, Sir, from that Mr. Halifax that you should take this.”

“You don’t work for Mr. Halifax. You work for me.” Julian answered, surprised by the firmness of the words that came from his mouth. He felt, for a moment, that he wasn’t the one speaking them. But, how could that be?

“Sir, I was told that you should take this and I aim to see that you so.” Arthur came closer still.

Julian’s vision became blurry and he felt the strangeness of lightning in his arms. Where was that sweet blackness? Wouldn’t it come? That absence of all things that was his only escape…

Arthur poured the mixture into the spoon. It was brown—the color of scabs—all ruddy and alive. He held the spoon up to Julian’s lips.

“Just two of these, Sir.” Arthur grinned. “And, then, it’ll all be over…”


Did you miss Chapters 1-20?  If so, you can read them here.