With that bold declaration, Boldwig turned to Pupker and Pupker turned to Towlinson and all heads nodded almost in synchronicity, and then the new sheriff reached into his satchel and produced something that had never before been seen in all of the 113 years of Dingley Delclass="underline" a gun. More specifically, a revolving pistol.
I stared at the evil Outland weapon, half-curious and half-frightened out of countenance to find it here in Dingley Dell after so long an absence.
I turned to look at Pupker. “In all the years of Muntle’s tenure as sheriff of this dale, Pupker, he was able to uphold the law through use of his wits and billy club alone, and rarely did he even have much cause for employment of the latter. This whelp of a sheriff has been in the employ of the Petit-Parliament for only a few hours, and lo! he cannot even bring a frightened young woman, half his size, to heed his authority without deploying this implement of modern brutality. Are there others, Pupker? Other guns, other twenty-first century weapons that you have had brought here to maintain the power of your cabal? If you will authorise their use upon your own daughter, is there anyone upon whom you will not use these weapons to keep all of us in a state of subservience to your wishes?”
It was clear to me now. At that very moment it was become translucently clear what was happening: the Dell was to be put under strict martial controul to maintain order until July 15, the day that each member of the Petit-Parliament and those who closely orbited that nefarious body would climb to the top of the Summit of Exchange and turn and look for the last time upon the valley that had been their home for all of their years. Dingley Dell was to be kept placid and quiet in its valedictory days by whatever harsh measures would do the trick. Those who were ignorant were to be kept ignorant. But those who were coming to see the way of things would be put under restraint, tossed into gaol cells, strapped into strait-waistcoats, or perhaps even shot squarely between the eyes (the most efficient means of acquiescence yet devised!). With the removal of Sheriff Muntle there was no law left in the land that did not comport with the self-serving objectives of the Petit-Parliament, for laws could be made up exigently as things went along — the needs of that body being narrowly focused upon how best to preserve the peace (at whatever the cost) so that a smooth and tidy departure could be effectuated for the bastard Bashaws of Dingley Dell.
The way of things was made even clearer to me in that next moment when the trembling, clammy Boy Sheriff ’s finger accidentally pulled the trigger and the gun was fired, the thunderous crack of its discharge echoing off all of the buildings in the vicinity of Mrs. Lumbey’s shop, its bullet streaking past my ear and shattering into thousands of little pieces the show-window glass behind me.
I heard Amy Casby cry out (as she dropt herself into a little ball upon the ground), and Charlotte make a similar, more deep-throated cry. I heard uninditable epithets stream from the mouth of the window’s owner. I heard Antonia Bocker murmur, “madmen” in a deep underbreath. And I heard most pronounced of all (though the words did not rise in volume any louder than anything else) Hannah Pupker say that she would go, without further objection, to Bethlehem Hospital upon Highbury Fields, to keep us all from bloodshed. “I will not have my friends made dead to keep you from tying me to a bed and sedating me,” she said to Dr. Towlinson in capitulation, though her tone was that of bitter imprecation.
Boldwig put the gun away. Pupker allowed himself at last to take in full breath. His startled face and indeed the equally startled countenance of Dr. Towlinson had said that neither man had intended for the gun to be fired. It was merely a prop in the little play — a means to an end. Perhaps it would have worked its business without the shot, but that was now past, and its aim had been achieved nonetheless (although its literal aim could very well have produced the death of one or more of us).
“I cannot afford to have this window replaced,” repined Mrs. Lumbey in near tears. “The glazier charges a fortune and I don’t have it.”
“I will pay for it, dear,” whispered Antonia with a hand of commiseration resting upon my landlady’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Antonia. You are a treasure.”
Had the two women finally ended their long feud? It appeared so.
“I will hold the both of you personally responsible should anything happen to Miss Pupker,” I assailed Pupker and Towlinson as Hannah was being led by Boldwig to the van.
Hannah took another couple of steps and then stopt. “I will go to Bedlam but only on the condition that I do not have to ride in that thing which looks to me like the tumbrel which conveyed Sydney Carton to the guillotine in A Tale of Two Cities. If you do not agree to my request, then you will have to shoot me.”
There followed a hasty conference amongst the three older men and the freckled boy (the Bedlam turnkey Oscar being excluded), during which I exchanged a brave smile with Hannah, who seemed far less fearful now than she had been moments before. Somehow she had a found a measure of courage that I hoped would sustain her through the dark days that lay ahead.
“You have only ten days to endure it, Hannah,” I whispered, “and then they will all be gone and we will have you back.”
“Stop exchanging confidences with the prisoner!” enjoined the sheriff in his squeaking pubescent voice.
“Is Hannah Pupker now a criminal?” exclaimed Mrs. Lumbey, with blistering stridence.
“Criminal? Of course not!” Boldwig sputtered. “I misspoke. She is a lunatic. Not a prisoner but a detained lunatic. That is all.”
“And that is quite enough as it is!” declared the “lunatic’s” father. “Such shame has this ungrateful minx brought down upon her family. Very well, Hannah, you may walk to the hospital. Dr. Towlinson and I have agreed that it should do you no harm, though this promenade before our neighbours will be a most mortifying blot upon our fine Pupker name!”
“Yet,” returned Hannah in an angry underbreath, “as I have come to regard myself as no longer a member of your family and carrier of the Pupker name, I shall not care a straw. In fact, Mr. Pupker, I own only the most contemptuous feelings toward you for what you seek to do to me. Yes, Mr. Pupker, to whom I no longer maintain even the most reedy of family allegiance.”
With a nod of the head by Dr. Towlinson, Oscar was bade to take the reins of the chestnut mare that pulled the van and to be on his way. Doctors Towlinson and Fibbetson joined the Bedlam minion upon the box, and without speaking another word the three rolled away, leaving Pupker and Boldwig to walk along either side of the criminal who was purported to be a lunatic but was, in fact, only a frightened young woman who had found a stalwart side to herself for which she was to be most highly commended by the allies she left behind.
Chapter the Thirty-ninth. Saturday, July 5, 2003
y brother Gus could not help himself.