Nancy stood weeping. They both looked up as Gregory approached, but Grendon went stubbornly on with his task.
“Oh, Nancy, Joseph, I’m so sorry about this!” Gregory exclaimed. “To think that they’ve allbut where’s the parson?
Where’s the parson, Joseph? Why are you burying them, without a proper service or anything?”
“I told Father, but he took no heedl” Nancy exclaimed.
Grendon had reached the last grave. He seized the last crude wooden cross, lifted it above his head, and stabbed it down into the ground as if he would pierce the heart of what lay under it.
Only then did he straighten and speak.
“We don’t need a parson here. I’ve got no time to waste with parsons. I have work to do if you ent.”
“But these are your children, Joseph! What has got into you?”
“They are part of the farm now, as they always was.” He turned, rolling his shirt sleeves further up his brawny arms, and strode off in the direction of the ditching activities.
Gregory took Nancy in his arms and looked at her tear-stained face. “What a time you must have been having these last few days!”
“I1 thought you’d gone to Gloucester, Greg! Why didn’t you come? Every day I waited for you to cornel”
“It was so wet and flooded.”
“It’s been lovely weather since you-were last here. Look how everything has grown!”
“It poured with rain every single day in Cottersall.”
“Well, I never! That explains why there is so much water flowing in the Oast and in the ditches. But we’ve had only a few light showers.”
“Nancy, tell me, how did these poor little mites die?”
“I’d rather not say, if you don’t mind.”
“Why didn’t your father get in Parson Landon? How could he be so lacking in feeling?”
“Because he didn’t want anyone from the outside world to know. You seeoh, I must tell you, my dearit’s Mother. She has gone completely off her head, completely! It was the evening before last, when she took her first turn outside the back door.”
“You don’t mean to say she”
“Ow, Greg, you’re hurting my arms! Sheshe crept upstairs when we weren’t noticing and sheshe stifled each of the babies in turn, Greg, under the best goose feather pillow.”
He could feel the color leaving his cheeks. Solicitously, she led him to the back of the house. They sat together on the orchard railings while he digested the words in silence.
“How is your mother now, Nancy?”
“She’s silent. Father had to bar her in her room for safety.
Last night she screamed a lot. But this morning she’s quiet.”
He looked dazedly about him. The appearance of everything was speckled, as if the return of his blood to his head somehow infected it with a rash. The blossom had gone almost entirely from the fruit trees in the orchard and already the embryo apples showed signs of swelling. Nearby, broad beafas bowed under enormous pods. Seeing his glance, Nancy dipped into her apron pocket and produced a bunch of shining crimson radishes as big as tangerines.
“Have one of these. They’re crisp and wet and hot, just as they should be.”
Indifferently, he accepted and bit the tempting globe. At once he had to spit the portion out. There again was that vile bitter flavor!
“Oh, but they’re lovely!” Nancy protested.
“Not even ‘rather strange’ nowsimply lovely’? Nancy, don’t you see, something uncanny and awful is taking place here. I’m sorry, but I can’t see otherwise. You and your father should leave here at once.”
“Leave here, Greg? Just because you don’t like the taste of these lovely radishes? How can we leave here? Where should we go? See this here house? My granddad died here, and his father before him. It’s our place. We can’t just up and off, not even after this bit of trouble. Try another radish.”
“For heaven’s sake, Nancy, they taste as if the flavor was intended for creatures with a palate completely different from ours … Oh …” He stared at her. “And perhaps they are.
Nancy, I tell you”
He broke off, sliding from the railing. Neckland had come up from one side, still plastered in mud from his work in the ditch, his collariess shirt flapping open. In his hand, he grasped an ancient and military-looking pistol.