Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 1 — page 18: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

8 THE ARGOSY. nation to destruction, I ha’ surrendered to fate, and am wont to draw from all carnal delights what bitter-sweet they may bring to this loathly flesh. Happier? Aye— even as the swine is happier in its wallow!” To say that I was amazed by this strange outburst from this man, who was almost a stranger to me, would-be expressing only half my confusion. ‘“T do not understand you,” I gasped, out of breath. | “TI do not understand myself!” he re- torted. ‘ But there is a glimmer of a light at times. Thus! Often I am assailed by 2 half-belief—in all modesty, mark ye—in all modesty—that the most high betimes turns an eye upon poor Jack Bunyan. Time and again Heaven has most -miracu- lously guided me through the swamp of sin where the devil tried to lure me with corpse-candles disguised in tavern-lights— saved me in the valley of death itself. _ “Qnce, boy, I fell into a creek, and the Hand of the Lord, through His instrument, ‘Thomas Thorp, snatched me out by the scruff of my neck. Once I picked up a poisonous adder, and—ye will hardly be- lieve this—it did not bite me! And heark- en further, lad. At Leicester ’twas. I was on sentry guard. The devil prompted me to thirst for a pot of ale. Leaving one Jonathan Shotwell in my place, the hog “went to his swill. When I came back Jonathan lay on his musket, shot between the eyes with the bullet meant for Jack ‘Bunyan!” As he reached this tragic climax Hob- goblin came to a sharp halt that nigh pulled my arm from its socket. Wagging a ponderous finger in my face, he. whis- pered tensely: , “Why, lad? Tell me that—why? Was it the devil saved his minion with that pot of ale? Or was it high heaven passed the word: ‘ Shift that lad, Bunyan. I ha’ need o’ that sinner. Place another in his stead.’ ” “°Tis a strange matter,” was all I could say. | “Am I right?” he asked, with almost ludicrous anxiety. “Or do I but fancy these things?” | “There would seem to be some serious purpose behind it all,” said I, impressed despite a desire to laugh. Seeming relieved, he led me on again, walking now at an easier pace, but still rambling on about strange, unearthly mat- ters and speculations. His eccentricity astounded me. astounding were his earnestness, his grav- ity, his sincere belief in his own theories. Not listening to half of what he further said, I fell to thinking of the man himself. As I say, he was not over twenty, but a full-grown man in body, with great shoul- ders, long arms, heavy feet, and in general a massive frame which his rugged, homely face and dull red hair perfectly suited. Ap- parently he had possessed a terrific imagi- nation. But I could not read the riddle of him. He was a mass of contradictions. The quiver of fear in his voice as he related his dream experiences in the infernal regions was oddly unlike the physically brave man who cowed that mob on the village green. His profanity, then and now—and I have purposely left out the heavy sprinkling of it in all his speech—struck me as being affected, like that of a growing lad anxious to prove himself a very wicked man. His self-condemnation, too, was something for which I could see no basis, save his own statements about gambling and drinking. I suspected that he exaggerated mouth- wagers into heavy dicing, pint-pots into kegs. : <= In short, without knowing more about the man, I was somehow convinced that Hobgoblin Jack Bunyan was his own chief accuser; that behind all his self-asserted wickedness there -was a great heart bleed- ing with a sense of personal unworthiness, a great brain driving itself mad with those very questions of religion which tore all England asunder at the time. But in the end I gathered this much— and the ponderous prologue to the trivial matter set me to laughing again: he be- lieved that the Hand of God ‘had person- ally directed him to the saving of that maiden on the village green, or that Provi- dence had appointed her a “ warniffg angel ” to lead him from his “ sodden, sin- ful ways.” comiclboool< More C@