Chapter III.

(Pages 30-39)

Chapter III.

The way in which the entry is frankly quite startling,

About the extraordinary event overlapping the kitchen and dining room,

How the hallway may be haunted,

Concluding the rescue of Sir Desvot from the anticipated pruning of his flesh.

            The door comes crashing closed behind them as they wander into the entry way, a small room with a worn carpet, shoe rack, complete with cobwebs and all the dust a dead man could desire. The door ahead of them though is apparently jammed, as no matter how hard Levit may harass the handle it does not budge even an inch. He inevitably resorts to kicking it, a feat which only manages to break a hole through the door for his leg to lodge itself inside as he wriggles around trying to free it while hopping in place on one foot, desperate for balance. The stomping of his foot into the door (with the house being in such disrepair) manages to free a ceiling tile from above him that comes spinning downward like a shuriken crumbling into his clavicle, the impact from which is frankly quite startling. As he finally frees his leg he faulters backward three paces before a fourth regains his footing; he walks back to the door and puts his whole body behind one foot that lands directly on the doorknob, causing the door at last to burst open and Levit to come tumbling through it, “Foolish door, I am impervious to thine useless attempts at mine mortality and shall outsmart thee our every scuffle.” He spits at the door; Sir Humphrey follows him into the hallway.

            The hallway has two doors on the left mirroring the right and one at the end. On the left wall there hang five portraits: one of an elderly man, next to it a woman who is presumably his wife, and below them two sons aside their daughter. Across from the portraits is a grandfather clock, the pendulum still oscillating slowly below the clockface. They first enter the room on their immediate left, and inside it is a dining room wherein a table is neatly set and decorated, a pale-white tablecloth set under brilliant silver platters adorned with sushi, sashimi, rolls, and in its apex is a substantially spirited candelabra.

            “This sushi appears fresh Sir Levit, shall we partake upon its sumptuous splendor or simply see it to spoil as we await its originally intended stomachs? I vote in favor.”

            “It is agreed, we shall send upon my rapacious stomach whate’er sum of sushi may inside its acidic walls accommodate. I believe this particular piece here is referred to as maguro,” Levit says lifting a tuna-topped compact of vinegared rice into his mouth. Humphrey begins with two rolls followed by two pieces of sushi and one of sashimi while Levit takes one more piece of sushi (this shrimped deliciousness referred to as ebi), two sashimi, and four rolls. Once their appetites are sated they move on to the kitchen in search of rope or any item that may function in lieu of.

            After brisking past cabinets and countertops Levit faulters into a closet and makes a mess of himself, a mop, and an empty bucket which just can’t quite kick off his boot. “Tormenting toe-trap, thy tightly tin grip shall not outlast my prowess; I shall prevail in this frivolous dispute and thy antagonizing ways shall cease thusforth,” he taunts as he continues in his struggle to remove the bucket from his boot while the door to the closet slowly swings shut behind him and he is enswathed in a blinding darkness. Sir Humphrey is captivated by the cabinetry and counters whereupon he sees the leftmost drawer begin to sluggishly slide open autonomously until it reaches the extent of its rusted runners. Inside the drawer is naught but a bulking stack of unwritten upon paper; he shuts the drawer as each, every other cabinet and drawer cohesively comes open in uncanny unison. He opens the drawer once more and they all come shut, so now he opens a nearby cupboard which closes the drawer itself and opens again each cupboard, cabinet, and drawer in sight.

            “Sir Levit? Where hast thou wandered off to and when shall thee return? For Have I News for Thee sir; I believe there to be a specter spooking these halls, and I know not if it is particularly fond of our presence,” he says as the drawer opens again and in glossy red lettering on each page Sir Humphrey flips through a ghostly GET OUT. The closet door bursts open to Levit, who has untangled himself from the mop and still not managed to get his foot out of that bucket as it Pangs on the floor with his every other step until he lifts his foot up finally and removes it himself, sending it clanging into the corner.

            “You what sir?” Levit asks.

            “Oh Sir Levit, I believe these very grounds to be bewitched, cursed, and certainly haunted by most malevolent hands; we must depart at once, and Sir Desvot shall starve as I see it.” He shows Levit the papers and shuts the drawer quite normally.

            “Nonsense Sir Humphrey, any one man could have writ these long ago be it in lipstick, paint, or even his own blood; some fantastic phantasm should be the final explanation of such daunting discoveries. I demand thee to think rationally sir,” he walks to Humphrey and pats his shoulder, “Come, this room be rife with naught but rubbish and debris, yet nary a rope to free our fallen friend. Shall we investigate across the hall?”

            “Sir Levit, whilst thou were in yonder closet I swear to thee these cabinets, cupboards, drawers all open and shut themselves by some elusive force, and these papers here before were all void of any writing – all blank, yet now have all this malign message written upon them,” Humphrey persists with a hint worriment to his tone.

            “Sir, but these drawers could all be built upon an incline and thus are inclined to roll naturally outward at their own will,” he says and to demonstrate opens slight a drawer that rolls the rest the way open on its own, nextly with a cabinet door that opened just as slight swings all the way open just the same, “and the walls of this house obscure the light to such a dour degree, the insides cloaked so caliginous that thy paper is rendered undiscernible until thy eyes adjust.”

            “I shall dispute thee unto the ends of this household on the matter of its haunting and enchantment by these otherworldly foes that have declared wicked warfare upon us,” he says following Levit back into the dining room past several platters of rotting, moldy sushi, down the hall and to the right, a moment wherein Sir Humphrey notices a small table with a vase set upon it that had not been there before. He doesn’t even think of mentioning it to Levit for he already knows it won’t convince him how the house is so highly haunted, nor that the vase had not simply been there to begin with. They enter the living room to rummage through drawers in the furniture, cabinets on the walls, and Humphrey is soon distracted by what must be a restroom; although, by some marvel of modern ingenuity it has been made available inside the house without the prevailing pungency expected in such an ingenious installation.

            Overwhelming Humphrey further is the craftsmanship of an innovative porcelain fountain that at the guide of a lever releases a jettison of water from the extent of its fountainhead, with further experimentation it is made apparent the direction of this lever determines the temperature (as well as obviously the pressure) of the water. Tasting it himself, he becomes aware of its rusted, orish taste yet filtrated finely; as he fills his canteen he notices above the fountain a mirror reflecting before him His own Image and the room around him.

            He looks back down to his now overflowing canteen, slapping the handle thus downward for the water thus to cease its stream from the fountainhead; he replaces the lid to his canteen. He looks up to the mirror and sees what appears to be a pestilent pimple on his nose that he proceeds to prod with his fingernails. As he nearly pops it he becomes aware of something in the peripheries of the mirror, “Sir Levit, what art thou up to in the den; hast thou lied upon the divan to rest?” He speaks to no reply, looks behind him, and by the doorway a small boy runs off for Sir Humphrey to recoil backward in fright. “Who art thou, child?” Humphrey bellows, walking forward into Levit who there is standing in the darkness.

            “What givest thou the aptitude to label me a child, Sir Humphrey? I was across the hall in what I Believe to be a Guest bedroom wherein I have discovered a great many bedsheets and linens sir that we may tie on end to rescue our separated Sir Desvot from the bottom of the wishing well,” Levit declares with sheets that Had been neatly folded in his hands, covered with a thick layer of dust, but what is the care?

            Sir Humphrey follows Levit out the front door, passing by the grandfather clock whose face has now gone haywire, hands turning rapidly over one another at such a pace the time of day remains indecipherable. This only adds to Sir Humphrey’s panic while Levit does not even notice this disturbance, “Sir Levit, wouldst thou observe this clockface? Its hands have overwound, they turn in turmoil and I tell thee this is the will of witchcraft.”

            Levit turns to see the clockface has fastened firmly to six twenty-six o’clock, “Sir, what you claim to be witchcraft is naught but an antique clock that has come unsprung, lost its tics and tocs – this be not the work of spirits but thine own imagination. Please sir, wilt thou help carry sheets from the bedroom as well? Second door on the left, they are all located in the bottom of closet.” Sir Humphrey gives and after taking his pass at some sheets, joins Levit at the well where they fasten all of them together with simple square knots. Sir Humphrey grovels over the edge of the pit wherein Sir Desvot has fallen asleep atop a mound of sparkling silver, cuddled up to a fractured femur.

            “Sir Desvot!” He bellows into the chasm to which not even the slightest stir is provoked from the dormant Desvot; Again, he calls, “Sir Desvot!” With still no response he pushes a brick over onto his leg, and at once he springs awake, tossing the femur away from him only to shatter it against the stone well wall.

            “What is it, Sir Humphrey? Hath ye found a rope to ascend me from the profound darkness of this well?” Sir Desvot moans from the bottom, soaked and starved.

            “We are tying together a mighty multitude of bedsheets that we shall descend to rescue thee from watery wastage.”

            “Sir Humphrey, I believe what I have just bound together shall suffice in the rescue of Sir Desvot; I care not to tie another to it,” Levit claims as he throws the bedsheets into the well, “Sir Desvot, please fasten thyself to the end of this rope I have just assembled and we shall ascend thee safely to the surface.”

            Sir Humphrey stands and gets himself a sure grip of the sheetrope as well to aid in Desvot’s ascent, Sir Desvot soon replies, “Now Sirs, I insist thee to be very careful.” They slowly pull him up from the well, hand by hand, left in right, and after a minute passes they hear bellowing from the well, “STOP. Now gently Sir Humphrey, release your grip from the rope now and please approach the well.”

            He does just as Desvot commands and peering over the edge of the well there is naught but a bucket of gold fastened to the end of their rope. Humphrey holds the bucket in disbelief, “My wish hath come alive I swear to it; behold, all the money I could wish for; all the gold for which I could ever have yearned.” Humphrey takes the bucket to his steed where he empties the gold into his saddlebags; Levit grovels over the edge of the well to peer back down at Desvot, who is still sat upon a mound of silver coins.

            “Please descend the bucket once more Sir Levit, for many more riches here lie at the bottom of this well, ripe for our plunder – what say we shall, sir?”

            “I shall permit thee three buckets more, yet no further shall thou plunder from these waters; two shall be for Humphrey, one for thee, another for myself. Thus is the longest I shall  wait, for I am far too exhausted to wait any longer to lift thine bulky body from the well,” Levit replies fore Sir Humphrey returns with the bucket that he descends by attached rope for further riches to accumulate and Desvot fills once more with all the pieces of gold he can differentiate from those silver in the murky monetary amalgamation he is sat upon. This process continues until the total four buckets of gold have been gathered, one more in Sir Humphrey’s saddlebags, a bucket in one of Sir Desvot’s saddlebags, and one emptied into Levit’s increasingly heavier haversack. They remove the bucket from the rope and discard That made of bedsheets; Desvot wraps the rope tightly around his shoulders and chest the best he is able so that he does not unravel from its binding. Sirs Levit and Humphrey both take a firm hold of the rope, making two loops near the end of it to better their grip.

            “Whenever thou’rt prepared Sir Desvot, we shall ascend thee from the depths of this sodden confinement,” Sir Levit remarks from a position by his loop at the end of the rope which he loosens to secure around his waist; soon enough he hears a reply.

            “Alright, men, hoist me back to the surface,” resounds meekly from the well, and so they begin, Sir Levit marches steadfast from the well while Humphrey drags the other loop with all his might – Desvot begins to rise up from the well.

            “This grass is so drenched by drips of dew,” Sir Levit alerts, “Be weary of thine footing Sir Humphrey, not to stumble and fall, for thou will not be the only.”

            Sir Humphrey, not the slightest concerned of his footing, drags the rope further – they hear Sir Desvot resound more clearly from the well, “Sirs, I am nearly halfway to the surface, carry on with thine backbreaking labor – I can almost smell fresh air once more, not that musty stale at the bottom of the well.”

            “Sir Levit, there seems to be a slight problem,” says Sir Humphrey all the while still hoisting Desvot higher to the surface.

            “And what would that be, Sir?”

            “I’m not sure I can keep my grip much longer,” he says with sweat leaking from is palms into the rope fibers just before it slips from his hands. Levit tries to stay standing upright, but Desvot’s weight causes him to slip and flip over onto his face as he begins skidding through the grass toward the well – Sir Humphrey races to help him up but slips on the sopping terrain. Levit is grabbing at grips of grass as Desvot drags him farther toward the well; each handful rips out in under a second, and soon enough Sir Humphrey is on his feet catching up with his lapsed loop which he snatches and holds tight so Desvot will stop descending as hastily he had moments previous. Levit stands and says not a word, just stepping out from the familiar loop and holding it like a normal man. Now Humphrey and he attempt once more to hoist Desvot from the well with both their grips on the rope reaffirmed; they make faster in their efforts, and it isn’t long until they come back upon the glut of grass so drenched it dew, carefully they proceed so as not to repeat once more their frivolous folly.

Backward they pull the rope step by step, and soon they hear Desvot calling up from the well, “I can nearly reach the surface sirs, but another meter remains in my ascent until once more I shall set my feet upon live grass and again lay eyes upon the verdant vigor of nature’s loving sympathy.”

Past two more steps they see Sir Desvot’s hands slapping onto the edge of the hole where he clings, lifting himself to the surface as Levit and Humphrey take two more steps to drag him up into the grass. He doesn’t even stand, lying aching in the grass trying to slip himself out from the captivity of the rope’s coil.

“Come Sir Desvot, we shall dry by yonder flames and return to this hut to rest.”

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