Punch's Cousin, Chapter 123

Robert shook his head sternly. “Mr. Punch, climb into this carriage.”


“Chum,” Mr. Punch smiled helplessly. “You know I gotta do this.”

“We don’t have a minute to spare. We’ve got to get Naasir back to the house so that I can tend to him. His life is hanging in the balance.”

“I know.” Mr. Punch replied. “Take him. I’ll be along soon.”

“I won’t allow you to go back in there.” Robert responded firmly.

“Do be reasonable, Punch.” Cecil added. “Come along, now.”

“His mother’s in there—me master’s mum. Sure, she’s a beast. But, that don’t mean she’s gotta suffer at the hands of an even worse one.” Mr. Punch argued.

“She’s already lost, dear Punch.” Cecil said. “We’re not going to risk losing you to save her! Now, come up here!”

“No.” Punch said softly. “Listen, how many people told ya that yer mum was lost and that there weren’t nothin’ that could save her?”

“That’s entirely different!” Cecil snapped. “Our mother was kind to us. The Duchess of Fallbridge has never done a kind turn for anyone! To compare the two is insulting!”

“He’s not trying to insult us,” Robert sighed.

“I know.” Cecil grunted. “I’m sorry. It’s merely that it’s a sore subject.”

“Maybe there’s some hope for that woman up there.” Mr. Punch said. “Maybe this is the thing what she needed to make her realize that livin’ a life of cruelty just ain’t the way to do it. And, even if it’s not, would it be right to leave her to be tortured? Don’t everybody deserve a chance? I know that folk can change if they want to. Look at all I’ve learned while livin’ in Julian’s body. Don’t that woman deserve the chance to learn? It’s up to her if she don’t, but it ain’t up to me to take that chance away from her. She’s Julian’s mother for God’s sake! And, for that, in her own way, she’s me mother, too—though I hate to admit it. Without her, I’d have no body what I could live in. I’d be just another puppet.”

“Dear Punch,” Robert said quickly. “I can’t go back in with you. I’ve got to tend to Naasir.”

“I’ll go with him.” Cecil said, rising to climb down from the cab.

“No, Brother Chum.” Mr. Punch shook his head. “I thank you for it, but I gotta do this alone. You’re better to go with Robert and Naasir.”

“Driver!” Robert shouted. “To Royal Street. Before I change my mind.”

As the carriage clattered off, Robert looked over his shoulder at Mr. Punch and hoped that it wasn’t the last he’d see of him…or Julian.

Mr. Punch took a deep breath and, without knocking, walked into Iolanthe’s house. The entrance hall was strangely empty without Mala’s usual gargoyle presence. Punch could hear the sounds of the commotion which continued in the back as Iolanthe’s screaming and ranting persisted. He could hear Barbara Allen trying to reason with the woman.

Above him, the sounds of female laughter and the chatter of drunken men steered Mr. Punch toward the wide staircase which rose high against the velvet-covered back wall of the hall. Punch headed for the stairs and tried to recall the layout of the house. He knew he’d been in Iolanthe’s private rooms when she’d held him there. When was it? It seemed like years before, but it had only been days.

In the upstairs passage, Punch counted the doors. His nose itched from the smell of spirits and perfume and he cringed when he heard a faint howling further down the corridor. “Four doors, five doors. Where’s the turn?”

“There.” A narrow archway at the end of the passage seemed familiar to Mr. Punch and he turned sharply to the right, following a dim corridor to a door upon which the initial “E” had been floridly painted in gold.

Mr. Punch opened the door to the plush dressing room where Iolanthe had railed at him. To the right of the fireplace, another door was partially ajar, and through it, Punch could see the tall posts of a bed upon which a female figure was draped.

Punch entered the room.

“Your Grace?” Mr. Punch said.

The woman did not respond.

Punch walked closer and leaned over Julian’s’ mother. “Your Grace?”

She opened her eyes as a weak rush of air squeaked from her mouth. “Julian…”

“I’ve come to take ya from here, Your Grace.”

She squeaked again.

“Can you put your arm ‘round me neck?” Mr. Punch asked, bending over to lift the woman.

The Duchess tried to hold on, but didn’t have the strength.

“No matter,” Mr. Punch said softly, “I got ya anyway.”

Little did Mr. Punch know that Mala was lurking just behind him—her ghastly face pulled back into a terrifying grin.

Meanwhile, the carriage arrived at Dr. Biamenti’s fine house on Royal Street. Cecil and Robert carried Naasir—still wrapped in their cloaks—into the house.

They were surprised to see Adrienne sitting in the entrance hall with a woman they didn’t know. Adrienne gasped and rushed toward her husband and his brother.

“Mon Dieu! Ce qui est produit?” Adrienne cried.

“We didn’t get there soon enough.” Robert said softly. “Iolanthe’s burned him.”

“Est-il mort?” Adrienne asked—horrified.

“No. He’s alive, but barely.” Robert responded. “I want to take him to the servant’s hall. We’ll need to clear a room. I’ll need Marjani’s help? Is she much improved?”

“Yes, she’s quite well. All she needed was some sleep. She’s in her room with Meridian.” Adrienne answered. “Je ne peux pas croire! Je savais qu'elle était un monstre. Mais, cela? C'est inhumain!”

“I told ya!” Nellie said from the settee where she’d remained. “I told ya she’s more touched in the head than ever!”

“Who is this?” Cecil asked Adrienne softly, straining under Naasir’s weight.

“She’s Nellie. She’s…an old friend. I’ll explain later.” Adrienne said. “Nellie, pardon me, I’m going to help with Naasir. Do make yourself comfortable.”

“I’ll wait.” Nellie nodded.

As they hurried through the house, Adrienne said, “I’m going on ahead to get Marjani. Take Naasir to the room to the left of the kitchen. That one’s empty, and…”

Adrienne paused as Marjani came toward them.

“Holy Mother, he said it would happen,” Marjani gasped.

“I need your help, Marjani.” Robert said quickly.

Adrienne opened the door to the empty room. “We can put him here. I’ll…” She stopped. “Where’s Mr. Punch?”

Robert and Cecil glanced at one another as they gently placed Naasir on the bed.

“Robert, Où est cher M. Punch?” Adrienne asked again.

“He’ll be along shortly.” Robert answered vaguely.

“Tell me that he’s safe.” Adrienne gasped. “Me dire qu'il n'est pas avec ce monstre abominable!”

“He stayed behind to help The Duchess of Fallbridge.” Robert answered.

Adrienne turned to Cecil. “Comment pourriez-vous laisser faire cela? Comment pourriez-vous laisser là? Il est un innocent. Vous laisser un enfant avec Iolanthe?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” Cecil said.

“Please,” Robert interrupted. “I am just as concerned about Julian…Mr. Punch…as any of you! More so. After all, he is my…” Robert sputtered, “But, I…” He struck his fist against his thigh. “Naasir needs all of our attention right now!”

“Of course,” Adrienne said.

“I think maybe you two should leave me and the doctor to this,” Marjani said softly. “Meridian’s with little Fuller and Columbia. Why don’t the two of you go into the parlor?”

“Certainly.” Cecil nodded. He gently took Adrienne by the arm and led her from the room. He whispered. “I don’t want you to see Naasir. It’s quite bad, really.”

“I can’t comprehend any of this.” Adrienne said shakily. “I knew something bad would… Mon Dieu! J'ai oublié Nellie!”

“Who is this Nellie?” Cecil asked.

“Another lost soul, my dear,” Adrienne sighed. “Another soul who needs us.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-122? If so, you can read them here.