Read Online Manly Wade Wellman - Judge Pursuivant 01 by The Hairy Ones Shall Dance (v1.1) - Free Book Online Page B

teeth. And, as I was saying, the peasant had a protection that the
scientist lacks - trust in his crucifix and his Bible."
                   "Why shouldn't he have that trust, and
why shouldn't you?" Again the judge was rummaging in his book-case.
"Those symbols of faith gave him what is needed, a strong heart to drive
back the menace, whether it be wolf-demon or
ectoplasmic bogy. Here, my friend."
                   He laid a third book on the desk. It was a
Bible, red-edged and leather-backed, worn from much use.
                   "Have a read at that while you finish
your drink," he advised me. ''The Gospel According to St John is good, and it's already marked. Play
you're a peasant, hunting for comfort."
                   Like a dutiful child I opened the Bible to
where a faded purple ribbon lay between the pages. But already Judge Pursuivant
was quoting from memory:
                   "'In the beginning was the Word, and the
Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with
God. All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that
was made . . .'"

             X
     
                  "Blood-lust and
compassion."
                   It may seem incredible that later in the night
I slept like a dead pig; yet I had reason.
                   First of all there was the weariness that had
followed my dangers and exertions; then Judge Pursuivant's whisky and logic
combined to reassure me; finally, the leather couch in his study, its surface
comfortably hollowed by much reclining thereon, was a sedative in itself He
gave me two quilts, very warm and very light, and left me alone. I did not stir
until a rattle of breakfast dishes awakened me.
                   William, the judge's servant, had carefully
brushed my clothes.
                   My shoes also showed free of mud, though they
still felt damp and clammy. The judge himself furnished me with a clean shirt
and socks, both items very loose upon me, and lent me his razor.
                   "Some friends of yours called during the
night," he told me dryly.
                   "Friends?"
                   "Yes, from the town. Five
of them, with ropes and guns. They announced very definitely that they
intended to decorate the flagpole in the public square with your corpse. There
was also some informal talk about drinking your blood. We may have vampires as
well as werewolves hereabouts."
                   I almost cut my lip with the razor. "How
did you get rid of them?" I asked quickly. "They must have followed
my tracks."
                   "Lucky there was more snow after we got
in," he replied, "and they came here only as a routine check-up. They
must have visited every house within miles. Oh, turning them away was easy. I feigned
wild enthusiasm for the man-hunt, and asked if I couldn't come along."
                   He smiled reminiscently, his mustache stirring
like a rather genial blond snake.
                   "Then what?" I prompted him, dabbing on more lather.
                   "Why, they were delighted. I took a rifle
and spent a few hours on the trail. You weren't to be found at all, so we
returned to town. Excitement reigns there, you can believe."
                   "What kind of excitement?"
                   "Blood-lust and
compassion. Since Constable O'Bryant is wounded, his younger brother, a
strong advocate of your immediate capture and execution, is serving as a
volunteer guardian of the peace. He's acting on an old appointment by his
brother as deputy, to serve without pay. He told the council - a badly scared
group - that he has sent for help to the county seat, but I am sure he did
nothing of the kind. Meanwhile, the Croft is surrounded by scouts, who hope to
catch you sneaking out of it. And the women of the town