Galore - Michael Crummey [102]
It was useless to run, he knew, so he turned to face them. The night so silent he could hear the mummers breathing raggedly under their masks.
—I don’t believe Master Sellers heard you, a second mummer said. —Speak up for the good sir.
—A bit of salt pork, Master? the brin dress repeated, stepping in close. The others had circled around to hem him where he stood.
—I bid you a good night, gentlemen, Levi told them.
—He’s ears do not work proper, the brin dress announced. —Perhaps you needs a operation, Master Sellers. Perhaps we’ll have to fix ’em up for you.
The mummers were on him before he turned, his arms pinned to the ground while the brin dress drew a fish knife from his costume of rags. —Give ear, he said, to the words of my mouth.
Levi screamed bloody murder before he blacked out, a foul whiff in his nostrils as he went under. Servants alerted by the racket brought him inside. Newman was sent for and he swabbed the wounds with alcohol, clearing away the blood. Flossie and Adelina hovered near with a lamp, their breath catching in their chests. The lobes and half the cartilage sliced off both ears. Adelina fainted dead away and had to be carried to her bed. Levi came to while Newman was suturing and he struggled to sit up, trying to fend off the doctor. Mummers, Levi shouted, he’d been set upon by a band of mummers. —Hold him still, Newman told the servants at his shoulders.
Levi was up as soon as the bandaging was done, shouting orders. He took a pistol and four servants to Shambler’s public house where he swore in a dozen drunken constables. They collected torches and rope, and every drinker at Shambler’s followed them out the door, Levi leading the party over the Tolt Road. The stench that overwhelmed him still in his nostrils.
It was the second time in her life Mary Tryphena woke from the dream of a mob descending the Tolt Road into the Gut. The distant light of torches just visible as she went across to Laz’s house to wake the men. She shouted at them to get up, the panic in her voice prodding them from their beds. She could hear Lazarus struggling with his wooden leg, fumbling with the straps, and she went into the room to help. —What is it, maid? he asked.
—Someone’s coming for Jude.
Judah’s face appeared at the door and Lazarus shouted at him to leave. —I’ll be right behind you, he said, go on now.
By the time they’d gotten the leg attached the torches were moving in the yard outside. Mary Tryphena said, I’ll go talk to them. She stepped into the red light, not able to pick out a single face among the crowd. —What is it you wants? she shouted. A figure detached itself from the mob of shadows and approached her, Levi’s oddly accessorized head coming clear in the dim, white muffs at his ears. —You got no business here, Levi Sellers.
Levi waved a handful of men forward and they forced past her. Lazarus was dragged out in his shirtsleeves, his hands tied behind his back. Patrick came running from his house across the garden with Amos and Eli behind him. Levi turned to the constables. —Arrest them all, he said and he held Mary Tryphena as the Devines were wrestled to the ground and bound. —Where’s the white bastard? Levi said. —The foul one, where is he?
—You’ve done enough to this family, Levi Sellers.
Levi put a hand behind one of the elaborate bandages taped to the side of his head. —Pardon me, Mrs. Devine, he said, I’m having a little trouble with my hearing.
The houses on the property were turned out and the neighboring houses and the rooms on the waterfront, but there was no sign of the Great White. The Devine men were marched out of the Gut with halters around their necks, young Eli at the front of the column. Druce and Martha stood weeping in the yard with Mary Tryphena, watching the torchlight ascend the