









                         Chapter XXV

                The Law Crouches and Springs


Literally, Master Polydore Vigil received the severest shock
of his life, when a few days after the events recorded in
the last chapter there reached him the warrant against
Endymion Leer, duly signed and sealed by the law-man of the
district of Swan-on-the-Dapple.
   Dame Marigold had been right in saying that her brother
was now completely under the dominion of the doctor.  Master
Polydore was a weak, idle man, who, nevertheless, dearly
loved the insignia of authority.  Hence, his present
position was for him an ideal one -- he had all the glory
due to the first citizen, who has, moreover, effected a coup
d'etat, and none of the real responsibility that such a
situation entails.
   And now, this terrible document had arrived -- it was
like an attempt to cut off his right hand.  His first
instinct on receiving it was to rush off and take counsel
with Endymion Leer himself -- surely the omniscient
resourceful doctor would be able to reduce to wind and
thistledown even a thing as solid as a warrant.  But respect
for the Law, and the belief that though everything else may
turn out vanity and delusion, the Law has the terrifying
solidity of Reality itself, were deep-rooted in Master
Polydore.  If there was a warrant out against Endymion Leer
-- well, then, he must bend his neck to the yoke like any
other citizen and stand his trial.
   Again he read through the warrant, in the hopes that on a
second it would lose its reality -- prove to be a forgery,
or a hoax.  Alas!  Its genuineness was but too unmistakable
-- the Law had spoken.
   Master Polydore let his hands fall to his sides in an
attitude of limp dismay; then he sighed heavily; then he
rose slowly to his feet -- there was nothing for it but to
summon Mumchance, and let the warrant instantly be put into
effect.  As it was possible, nay, almost certain, that the
Doctor would be able to clear himself triumphantly in Court,
the quicker the business was put through, the sooner Master
Polydore would recover his right hand.
   When Mumchance arrived, Master Polydore said, in a voice
as casual as he could make it, "Oh! yes, Mumchance, yes... I
asked you to come, because," and he gave a little laugh, "a
warrant has actually arrived -- of course, there must be 
some gross misunderstanding behind it, and there will be no
difficulty in getting it cleared up in Court -- but, as a
matter of fact, a warrant has arrived from the law-man of
Swan-on-the-Dapple, against... well, against none other than
Dr. Endymion Leer!" and again he laughed.
   "Yes, your Worship," said Mumchance; and, not only did
his face express no surprise, but into the bargain it looked
distinctly grim.
   "Absurd, isn't it?" said Master Polydore, "and *most*
inconvenient."
   Mumchance cleared his throat: "A murderer's a murderer,
your Worship," he said.  "Me and my wife, we were spending
last evening at Mothgreen -- my wife's cousin keeps the
tavern there, and he was celebrating his silver wedding --
if your Worship will excuse me mentioning such things -- and
among the friends he'd asked in was the plaintiff and her
aunt... and, well... there be some things that be just too
big for any defendant to dodge.  But I'll say no more, your
Worship."
   "I should hope not, Mumchance; you have already strangely
forgotten yourself," and Master Polydore glared fiercely at
the unrepentant Mumchance.  All the same, he could not help
feeling a little disquieted by the attitude adopted by that
worthy.
   Two hours later after a busy morning devoted to
professional visits -- and, perhaps, some unprofessional one
too -- Endymion Leer sat down to his midday dinner.  There
was not a happier man in Lud than he -- he was the most
influential man in the town, deep in the counsels of the
magistrates; and as for the dreaded Chanticleers -- well, he
had successively robbed them of their sting.  Life being one
and indivisible, when one has a sense that it is good its
humblest manifestations are transfigured, and that morning
the Doctor would have found a meal of baked haws sweet to
his palate -- how much more so the succulent meal that was
actually awaiting him.  But it was not fated that Endymion
Leer should eat that dinner.  There came a loud double knock
at the door, and then the voice of Captain Mumchance,
demanding instantly to be shown in to the Doctor.  It was in
vain that the housekeeper protested, saying that the Doctor
had given strict orders that he was never to be disturbed at
his meals, for the Captain roughly brushed her aside with an
aphorism worthy of that eminent jurist, the late Master
Josiah Chanticleer.  "The Law, my good lady, is no respector
of a gentleman's stomach, so I'll trouble you to stand out
of the way," and he stumped resolutely into the parlour.
   "Morning, Mumchance!" cried the Doctor cheerily, "come to
share this excellent-looking pigeon-pie?"
   For a second or two the Captain surveyed him rather
ghoulishly.  It must be remembered that not only had the
Captain identified himself with the Law to such a degree
that he looked upon any breach of it as a personal insult,
but that also he had been deeply wounded in his professional
pride in that he had not immediately recognised a murderer
by his smell. 
   Captain Mumchance was not exactly an imaginative man, but
as he stood there contemplating the Doctor he could almost
have believed that his features and expression had suffered
a subtle and most unbecoming change since he had last seen
them.  It was as if he was sitting in a ghastly green light
-- the most disfiguring and sinister of all the effects of
light with which the Law cunningly plays with appearances --
the light that emanates from the word *murder*.
   "No, thank you," he said gruffly, "I don't sit down to
table with the likes of you."
   The Doctor gave him a very sharp look, and then he raised
his eyebrows and said drily, "It seems to me that recently
you have more than once honoured my humble board."
   The Captain snorted, and then in a stentorian and
unnatural voice, he shouted, "Endymion Leer!  I arrest you
in the name of the country of Dorimare, and to the end that
the dead, the living, and those not yet born, may rest
quietly in their graves, their bed, and the womb."
   "Gammon and spinnage!" cried the Doctor, testily, "what's
your little game, Mumchance?"
   "Is murder, game?" said the Captain; and at that word the
Doctor blanched, and then Mumchance added, "You're accused
of the murder of the late Farmer Gibberty."
   The words acted like a spell.  It was as if Endymion
Leer's previous sly, ironical, bird-like personality slipped
from him like a mask, revealing another soul, at once more
formidable and more tragic.  For a few seconds he stood
white and silent, and then he cried out in a terrible voice:
"Treachery!  Treachery! The Silent People have betrayed me! 
It is ill serving a perfidious master!"

   The news of the arrest of Endymion Leer on a charge of
murder flew like wildfire through Lud.
   At all the street corners, little groups of tradesmen,
'prentices, sailors, were to be seen engaged in excited
conversation, and from one to the other group flitted the
deaf-mute harlot, Bawdy Bess, inciting them in her strange
uncontrolled speech, while dogging her footsteps with her
dance-like tread went old Mother Tibbs, alternately laughing
in crazy glee and weeping and wringing her hands and crying
out that she had not yet brought back the Doctor's last
washing, and it was a sad thing that he should go for his
last ride in foul linen.  "For he'll mount Duke Aubrey's
wooden horse -- the Gentlemen have told me so," she added
with mysterious nods.

   In the meantime, Luke Hempen had reported to Mumchance
what he had learned from the little herdsmen about the
"fish" caught by the widow and the Doctor.  The Yeomanry
stationed on the border were instantly notified and ordered
to drag the Dapple near the spot where it bubbled out after
its subterranean passage through the Debatable Hills.  They
did so, and discovered wicker frails of fairy fruit, so
cunningly weighted that they were able to float under the
surface of the water.
   This discovery considerably altered Master Polydore's
attitude to Endymion Leer.
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