Part 5 (1/2)

After thus a.s.serting himself he began to examine the blade of his knife which he still held in his hand, and to breathe gently on it, and wipe it with his handkerchief to make it s.h.i.+ne brighter in the sun. Finally, raising his arm, he flourished it and then made two or three stabs and lunges in the air, then walking on tip-toe he advanced to Martin lying so still on the yellow gra.s.s in the midst of that black-robed company, the hot sun s.h.i.+ning on his naked white body.

The others all immediately pressed forward, craning their necks and looking highly excited: they were expecting great things; but when the man with a knife had got quite close to Martin he was seized with fear and made two or three long jumps back to where the others were; and then, recovering from his alarm, he quietly put back the knife under his coat.

”We really thought you were going to begin,” said one of the crowd.

”Oh, no; no indeed; not just yet,” said the other.

”It is very disappointing,” remarked one.

The man with the knife turned on him and replied with dignity, ”I am really surprised at such a remark after all I have said on the subject.

I do wish you would consider the circ.u.mstances of the case. They are peculiar, for this person--this Martin--is not an ordinary person. We have been keeping our eyes on him for some time past, and have witnessed some remarkable actions on his part, to put it mildly. Let us keep in mind the boldness, the resource, the dangerous violence he has displayed on so many occasions since he took to his present vagabond way of life.”

”It appears to me,” said one of the others, ”that if Martin is dead we need not concern ourselves about his character and desperate deeds in the past.”

”_If_ he is dead!” exclaimed the other sharply. ”That is the very point,--_is_ he dead? Can you confidently say that he is not in a sound sleep, or in a dead faint, or shamming and ready at the first touch of the knife to leap up and seize his a.s.sailant--I mean his carver--by the throat and perhaps murder him as he once murdered a spoonbill?”

”That would be very dreadful,” said one.

”But surely,” said another, ”there are means of telling whether a person is dead or not? One simple and effectual method, which I have heard, is to place a hand over the heart to feel if it still beats.”

”Yes, I know, I have also heard of that plan. Very simple, as you say; but who is to try it? I invite the person who makes the suggestion to put it in practice.”

”With pleasure,” said the other, coming forward with a tripping gait and an air of not being in the least afraid. But on coming near the supposed corpse he paused to look round at the others, then pulling out his black silk handkerchief he wiped his black wrinkled forehead and bald head.

”Whew!” he exclaimed, ”it's very hot today.”

”I don't find it so,” said the man with the knife. ”It is sometimes a matter of nerves.”

It was not a very nice remark, but it had the effect of bracing the other up, and moving forward a little more he began anxiously scrutinizing Martin's face. The others now began to press forward, but were warned by the man with a knife not to come too near. Then the bold person who had undertaken to feel Martin's heart doubled back the silk sleeve of his coat, and after some further preparation extended his arm and made two or three preliminary pa.s.ses with his trembling hand at a distance of a foot or so from the breast of the corpse. Then he approached it a little nearer, but before it came to the touching point a sudden fear made him start back.

”What is it? What did you see?” cried the others.

”I'm not sure there wasn't a twitch of the eyelid,” he replied.

”Never mind the eyelid--feel his heart,” said one.

”That's all very well,” he returned, ”but how would you like it yourself? Will _you_ come and do it?”

”No, no!” they all cried. ”You have undertaken this, and must go through with it.”

Thus encouraged, he once more turned to the corpse, and again anxiously began to examine the face. Now Martin had been watching them through the slits of his not quite closed eyes all the time, and listening to their talk. Being hungry himself he could not help feeling for them, and not thinking that it would hurt him to be cut up in pieces and devoured, he had begun to wish that they would really begin on him. He was both amused and annoyed at their nervousness, and at last opening wide his eyes very suddenly he cried, ”Feel my heart!”

It was as if a gun had been fired among them; for a moment they were struck still with terror, and then all together turned and fled, going away with three very long hops, and then opening wide their great wings they launched themselves on the air.

For they were not little black men in black silk clothes as it had seemed, but vultures--those great, high-soaring, black-plumaged birds which he had watched circling in the sky, looking no bigger than bees or flies at that vast distance above the earth. And when he was watching them they were watching him, and after he had fallen asleep they continued moving round and round in the sky for hours, and seeing him lying so still on the plain they at last imagined that he was dead, and one by one they closed or half-closed their wings and dropped, gliding downwards, growing larger in appearance as they neared the ground, until the small black spots no bigger than flies were seen to be great black birds as big as turkeys.

But you see Martin was not dead after all, and so they had to go away without their dinner.

[Ill.u.s.tration]