LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1567, 26 February 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

FEUiLLKTON. AT THE SIGN OF HE BLACK ADDER. BY \V. W. FENN. I was never so bored in my life. I hate racing, and I was not well, so it must have been for my sins that I found rayseJ staying at Fittleworth Court during that Goodwood week. I think it was in ’6l; I can’t quite remember, though I had good reason for doing so, I know Fittleworth had only just come into the title, and I had not seen him since we left Cambridge two years before The house was full of people, all racinc-nad. men womev, and children I went over to the course two or three times, but the last day of the meeting I made a stand ; I declared I would go no more, 1 had bad enough of it; and derpite the volley of chaff fired at me from the top of the drag as it drove away, I carried my point, and strolled off with a book, determined to enjoy a little quiet amongst the downs and country lanes.

And I enjoyed it so ranch that I spent the whole day sitting and wandering about, until nearly six o’clock, when I found myself on a lonely byroad, a long way from the house, breasting a wildish bit of heather-clad hill, near the river, which finds its way into the sea at Littlehampton. The weather was hot, and grew hotter as evening came on, the breeze having all died away. Diverging a few yards from the road at the top of the ascent, I threw myself down upon a slope of the soft and fragrant turf. As I did so, my foot disloged a big stone, causing me a sharp pang of pain, For a moment I attributed it to the blow; but looking down, a> d not being Mr Frank Buckland, I started at seeing a small black snake glide swiftly across a piece of broken bank and disappear in the long grass. Had it stung me ? Without a doubt it was on the ankle I hai felt the pain, just above the shoe, and now the spot was smarting to the touch. Scared and uneasy, I went back to the road, and this time sat down on a rough old bench, placed there for the benefit of travellers desirous of enjoying the view. I hai hesitated in f'Oot of it when T first came up, and had pre f erred. unluckily, the slo ing bank nf turf for my wayside rest, I was about to take off shoe and seek to examin the damage, wh n a strain of music hard by broke through the silence of the soft summer evening. Glancing round, I saw some one coming along the rood playinc on an accordion. Pausing in the act of untving the shoe until the wa farer should have passed, I beheld ascending the hill thfigure of a man. As he approached, I dis-ce-ned that he was a strange-looking being, dressed in a long closely-buttoned dark frock-coat, light-gray t ensers, and wearing a red fez. He was walking at a g-eat pace, and swinging his accordion high in the air and to and fro as he played it, after the fashion of performers on that Instrument, Coming still closer, I made out that L« hai a yellowish brown skin, smooth face, save for a downy moustache, longish black hair, small dark eyes set close together, and gleaming white teeth. Ho was very tall, very thin, very lithe and supple in the joints, and gliding in action —a Hindoo probably ; but the seedy semiEuropean dress gave him a nondescript air, half Indian, half gipsy, partly Turkish, and wholly strange and uncanny. He made a sort of jaunty salaam as he came up to ani sat down on the bench, saying after a moment, with an odd nasal accent,

‘ Fine evening, sar ! Plenty warm now.’ I acquiesced curtly He gave a quick and furtive glance at me, and though he had c* ase I playing when he sat down, the long, taper, sinewy lingers of his brown wellah -ped 1 and continued trav Ring restlesslv over the keys of the instrument * sat nursing my foot, irresolute as to whether I should proceed wi h my examinsti n of it in the presence of this stranger, wh -se appearance I did not quite relish ‘Hurt your foot, sar?’ he asked presen ’.jy. ’ ‘-'hit’s nothing,’ I answered, ‘I think some’hmg has bitten it.’

Ah, what you think bite it ? Cat, dog, rat ? ’

‘No. no I don’t mean bitten it ; stung, it, I should have said ’ ‘ What sting it, then ? Hornet, wasp, snake—what ? ’

‘ Well, I think it. was a snake,’ I replied, finding myself drawn into conversation with the follow rather in spite of myself.

•Ah, snake! Let tut see. I know all about snake bite ; I cure many snake bite Show me, ear.’ he continued, as he b ( m forward towards my foot, but with his eyes fixed on mine. Again, somewhat against n y will as it seemed, I began to untie my shoe ; and the moment it was off, he seized the top of my sock, and quick as lightning drew it off my foot ‘ Yes, yea, I see—thar ! ’ be said, putting the tip of a long finger lighMy on my ankle, just above & red swollen spot with a drop of blood ooz ng from it. * I know him—bite of adder.’ ‘ Is it dangerous ? ’ I asked, feeling bv n means comforted by this remark, a r 'd the angry swollen look of my foot. * Plenty danger, sar, you leave him ’lone: no danger ’t all, you take what I give an' l do what I t°ll and the man learn d b-mk with the dignified air of a physician who had delivered a profound opinion. ‘What should I do? ’ I inquired. ‘I consider, sar; you some way from house here, some time take to got water hot; never mind, I give yon cure.’ ‘ How far is it to Arundel? I cou’d get a fly there,’ I said., “I suppose I ought to bathe my foot with hot water as soon as possible.’ • Yes. sar; but Arundel five mile off—too far. You stop at Black Babbit inn—that only three mile; you go soon, but ’fore you go you take piece m> cure; here, see ! ’

He had drawn from an inne- breast-pocket a little flat round metal box such as is used fo'r tobacco, and with a Img ugly-lookine knife, Which he had aim taken from rii.s pocket, was flow catting at a lump of pale, soft, sugary looking stuff which the box contained. When ha had severed a piece about the size of a small filbert, he struck it on the end of the knife, and said as he handed it to me, •Swallow this, sar; antidote, cure you ; plenty tifffe, you take soon.’ I hesitated.

‘ Ah, yon ’fraid ? Stop-p'ee, stop! I put, I show yon and he popped the piece into hi" own mouth and apparently swallowed it Then he cnt off another small lump, and again offering it to me at before, went on, ‘ Now you take, par • have no fear, sar ; you not take, poison work ; ’fore yon walk one mile you fall down sick, you die.’ The man’s words and behaviour, with the circumstances which led to them, had com hined by this time somewhat to unnerve and bewilder me, and hardly knowing what I did, I took the niece of stuff from the point of the knife, and gulped in down. * Ah, now you safe !’ he said ; ‘ now I rub little into wound, then you cover bim up, rest five minute, then go on to Black Eabb't Inn, follow road by river—tbarl—way I come—and three mile you find him. Wash foot, soak hour, two h nr, in water hot; take glass grog hot, and go to bod. 0. I cure many snake-bite—so. safe !’ While speaking he had been gently rubbing a small portion of the composition into the wound, and now tearing off a piece of thm paper from some he had taken from his pocket, stuck it down on the spot, drew the sock dexterously over it, and put the shoe on,

‘Thar,’ he said, ‘now rest five minute while I play tune —give time for cure to begin, ’fore ynu march, I charm snake by tune; Ido what I please with snake in my countryand without giving me time to speak he began a lively strain on the accordion. Presently it grew slower and softer, until by degrees it fell into a low plaintive melody, weird and strange, but singularly pretty and soothing in its effect. The smarting, burning sensation in my f.:ot abated, and I felt almost as if I could have dropped off to sleep; indeed I believe I should have done so, but as I sat watching with somewhat dreamy gaze the strange-looking figure before me, I was suddenly startled by seeing something moving just within the edge of his unbuttoned coat. What, in Heaven’s name, was it ? I aroused myself, and opening my eyes wide beheld distinctly the head of a large snake emerging from his breast, and coming into strong relief against the dingy white of his shirt-front. Drawing back I cried,

‘ Good God, why, you’ve got a snake about you all this time ! ’ ‘O, yes, sar; two, three, four snake; they very good friend to me, I verv g »od friend to themand before he had d ne speaking the greenish-yellow reptile was twining itself round his nock and lifting its crest in the direction of the acc irdion, which the man, who bad stood up, was now holding high over his head. ‘He come to see music, he plenty fond of music; and yon look, you see little -Tabar come too, he like music ; and old Troot very fond of music, old Troot.’ In less than a minute, sure enough, from the sleeve of both his uplifted arms, appeared the heads and several coil, of two more snakes, one brown and the o'her black, twimng and winding round his wrists. He looked like a sort of modern La'moon, and presented the wildest and most weird spectacle conceivable. His swarthy aspect, gleaming teeth, and long lithe figure swaying to and fro, with a supple undulating motion, to the slow measure of the air he was playing, was in itself suggestive of nothing so much as a huge snake, whilst the creatures coiling themselves over him In all directions now completed the disgust which, during the last five minutes, had overtaken me.

(To be Continued.)