Punch's Cousin, Chapter 80

“Look what I’ve found.” Ulrika grinned as she pushed Naasir and Mr. Punch into the stable.


Iolanthe Evangeline strained to look up.

“A family reunion.” She groaned.

“Julian!” Barbara rose from where she knelt next to the wounded woman.

Mr. Punch took a deep breath and composed himself. He spoke as he thought Lord Julian might, “Barbara, this is no place for you.”

“Why not?” Barbara spat. “I’m with my own kind.”

Mr. Punch turned to Arthur and frowned. “Arthur, what a surprise to see you alive.” He said, continuing to speak in Julian’s voice. “I see you’ve found your friend.” He gestured to the professor. “He was quite worried about you when you went missing on the ship.”

Naasir breathed in sharply, pleased that Mr. Punch had kept his promise to Robert and was able to keep a level head.

“What’s happened here?” Mr. Punch asked.

“What does it look like?” Barbara growled. “The brother of your companion has shot Miss Evangeline.”

“Will she die?” Punch asked, a little of his own manner creeping in.

“I’m not gonna die,” Iolanthe grinned. “This will only strengthen me.”

“Girl, did you get something to staunch the bleeding?” The professor asked.

“You may not speak to me that way. You will address me as ‘Miss Rittenhouse.’” Ulrika demurred.

The professor grinned wickedly, “Miss Rittenhouse, did you find something to stop the whore from bleeding out onto your nice, clean hay?”

Ulrika scowled.

“Watch yourself, Leon!” Iolanthe Evangeline hissed. “Careful that your tongue doesn’t get you in more trouble.”

Ulrika handed a fistful of Spanish Moss to Barbara.

“Is this all you could find?” Barbara bellowed.

“I would have looked for more, but I found something better.” Ulrika winked.

“Use this.” Mr. Punch handed a handkerchief to Barbara. He recalled how Robert had stopped his cut hand from bleeding. “Tie it above the wound to stop the flow of blood.”

Barbara snatched the handkerchief from her brother’s hand. “Leave here, Julian. This doesn’t concern you.”

“I should think it does.” Mr. Punch answered.

“Leave!” Barbara screamed.

“Naasir,” Mr. Punch said, “There’s a pump outside. Please use that pitcher,” He pointed to the corner, “to bring something for Miss Evangeline to drink.”

“Yes, Sir.” Naasir nodded, doing as instructed.

“I would have asked you, Arthur,” Mr. Punch squinted Julian’s eyes, “only you’ve gone in the sea, haven’t you? Can’t ask a dead man to do no chores.” He couldn’t help himself. As his anger rose, he was having an increasingly difficult time pretending to be Julian. Mr. Punch continued, “How does this work, then? Are you still me footman? Or does the fact that you’ve died and come back set you free?”

“You’re barmy.” Arthur laughed. “How I’ve always hated you.”

“Not too fond of you neither, I’m not.” Mr. Punch grunted.

“Julian, if you’ve come out here to play your little pantomime game and speak in other voices, then, you’re wasting your time.” Barbara grumbled.

Naasir returned with a pitcher of water and grabbed two tin mugs from the table in the corner of the stall. The horses whinnied as Naasir turned his back to the group. He poured half of the red powder from the vial into the pitcher and carefully tucked the glass tube into his pocket.

Offering the pitcher to Mr. Punch, he asked. “Will you pour, Sir?”

“I will.” Mr. Punch pulled Julian’s lips back into a grin. He poured one beaker full of water and knelt down beside Iolanthe Evangeline. “Take a sip. You must be parched.”

“Why are you helpin’ me?” Iolanthe asked.

“Because you are alive.” Mr. Punch answered, regaining control and speaking as Julian again. “I’ve learned that we must protect living things no matter who they are.”

“Didn’t stop you from trying to push me into the angry sea!” Arthur shouted.

“Quiet!” The professor snapped.

Mr. Punch held the beaker to Iolanthe’s lips and she sipped. “Foul!” She sputtered.

“Gimme some o’ that.” The professor grabbed the cup and took a swig. “You’ve put somethin’ in this!”

“Nonsense.” Mr. Punch replied calmly. “The water in this place is vile. That’s all.”

“What have you done, Julian?” Barbara narrowed her eyes at her brother.

“Only tried to help.” Mr. Punch responded. “Why don’t you and your friend Arthur take a drink?”

“So you can poison us, too?” Barbara laughed.

“I’m not the one what poisons people.” Mr. Punch answered angrily, his own voice clear. “That’d be your mate, Arthur. Poisonin’ would be too good for him. I want him to live so he can suffer like what he did to me and me chum!”

“Arthur,” The professor said, rubbing his head. “Silence the man! His voice is cutting through me.”

Arthur rushed toward Mr. Punch, grabbing him by his wounded hand.

Mr. Punch yelped.

“Stop!” Iolanthe called out, trying to sit up. “I wish to speak with him.” She looked at Mr. Punch. “I don’t know what you are, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Miss Iolanthe, don’t.” Barbara said.

“Don’t be givin’ me orders.” Iolanthe Evangeline snapped at Barbara. “An awful lot of trouble you turned out to be.” She looked at Mr. Punch again. “Come here, lunatic, and everything will become clear. I knew that you and that dark priest would be a danger to me.” She sighed. “But, now, I don’t care.”

Mr. Punch knelt beside Iolanthe Evangeline. She grabbed him by his cravat and pulled him to her face. “Yes, now, everything will become clear!” She hissed.

Meanwhile, Marjani arrived at her cabin at Manuel Fontanals’ plantation. There, she found her daughter and her daughter’s husband, lying on a bare mattress. Both of them breathed noisily as if each intake of air caused them considerable pain.

“Nontle, honey, Mama’s here. Tell me what’s hurtin’ ya.” Marjani whispered to her daughter.

Nontle gurgled. “Where’s Columbia?”

“She’s safe, Sugar.” Marjani said, fighting back tears. “She’s done gone to one of the other cabins. Don’t you fret ‘bout her.”

“Take care o’ my girl.” Nontle rasped.

“Darlin’, what’s hurtin’ ya?” Marjani said, feeling her daughter’s face. She pulled back Nontle’s lips and saw the blood beginning to rise on her gums. Marjani gasped.

“It’s the Yellow Jack, isn’t it, Mama?” Nontle asked.

“Don’t you fret, honey. Mama’s gonna fix it.” Marjani said softly.

“Take care o’ my Columbia.” Nontle said, her chest rattling.

“Don’t need to.” Marjani shook her head. “You’re gonna do it. You’re gonna get well. This ain’t nothin’ to be worried ‘bout.”

Nontle shut her eyes. “Not true, Mama.”

Marjani rose and stood in the center of the cabin. “Holy Mother,” she began, “I need strength! There’s nothin’ in this world I wouldn’t trade for to make my children safe!”

She strained to listen to the air, awaiting some response—some sign. Yet, she received nothing.

“Holy Mother!” Marjani shouted. “I need you!”



Did you miss Chapters 1-79? If so, you can read them here.