Christabel hated the sight of the Skeleton, and what was more, she would leave the exhibition if he entered it.
The showman swore that the Skeleton should come into the exhibition, and what was more, by ——, she should marry the Skeleton if she did not mind what she was saying.
This was the greatest bit of tyranny in words which the showman felt he could threaten, and he seemed to gloat over the idea. Yes, she should marry the death’s head and bones, he said, and he chuckled and laughed and thumped the table, and became quite jocular at the bare notion of such a union.
Christabel, however, flamed up in return, and by degrees the showman became terribly angry, and threatened to turn her out of doors.
The end was that Christabel went up-stairs, locked herself in her bedroom, and began to look out her things for packing off the next day. Meanwhile the showman lay down by the fire, went to sleep, and dreamt he was proprietor of a pair of giants, two skeletons, five boa constrictors, and a wax-work museum: that he wore a tiger-skin coat, and walked about smoking a cigar, whilst a brass band beneath a gorgeous display of pictures performed the Conquering Hero, with real gas shining on their music books, and that all he had to do was to wear the tiger-skin coat, smoke thick cigars, and swear at everybody who did not please him.
CHAPTER VIII.
WHAT ARTHUR PHILLIPS SAW THROUGH THE MIST.
A white, wet, grovelling mist; with a long, black procession creeping through it; and the solemn tolling of a village bell; nodding plumes and draped horses; a small group of well-dressed farmers, the tenants of the late Mr. Tallant.
There was something weird and miserable about the whole thing, as Arthur Phillips viewed it at a distance; something that chilled him and bowed him down.
He followed the mourners into the church; the solemn village church, with its high-backed pews, brass monuments, and marble effigies; the solemn little church, with the ivy nodding round the porch, and the damp making big blotches on the pavement.
The mourners shuffled into their seats, and the villagers came peering in with vacant looks.