Chapter 14

SUPERSTITION.

While Adele was thus pondering over her natural shocks, Frank was working, full of hope for the future.

His step-mother married, and he was left in possession of the house. He let it to an old couple, Pierre Merlin and his wife. Mait Pierre, as Frank called him, was a man of about sixty years of age. He worked for Frank who found that it was impossible for him to keep things ship-shape without re-enforcement.

This old man gloried in being a true Guernseyman, one of the old stock, of direct descent from those who fought for their country against the band of adventurers who invaded the island under Ivan of Wales. He did not say that the islanders had the worst of the fight. He only spoke in the patois, which Frank understood very well.

This species of the genus "homo" hailed from the parish of Torteval, and, being an old peasant and very illiterate, there is no cause for being astonished that he was superstitious.

Frank perceived this only a few days after he had engaged him. It was a Friday, and the old man who was told to go and gather a few tomatoes--the first of the season--exclaimed: "What! begin on a Friday, but you forget yourself, Mr. Mathers."

Frank laughed at him and told him to go all the same, adding that he was surprised people believed in such nonsense. Old Pierre obeyed muttering: "He is a young man, and he will lose a nice lot of money on his crops, defying fate in that way. But it's as the proverb says: 'Experience is a thing which is bought.'"

Although Frank did not believe in any of the old man's notions, the continual remarks which he heard made him eager to know more. When they had dined, the two men proceeded to a garden seat and while the elder smoked his pipe, the younger questioned him.

Pierre was very reticent in his information. What was the use of telling this young man anything; he would not believe him.

As time passed on, he began to have more confidence in his employer, and seeing that he never laughed at what he said, he gradually became more talkative.

One day, when Frank was questioning him, the old man asked: "Have you ever seen the _feu bellanger_?"

"I don't think so," responded Frank, "at any rate, I had never heard that name mentioned before."

"Well," said Mait Pierre, "if you care to listen, I shall tell you all about it; you appear eager to know everything."

He took his pipe from between his teeth; well emptied the bowl, and put the blackened clay pipe in his pocket with studied carefulness. Then he began: "The _feu bellanger_ is one of the devil's angels which takes the shape of fire, and goes about at night, generally when it is very dark, and tries to pounce upon some victim."

Here, he stopped and looked inquiringly at Frank, who, in his desire to hear what old Pierre had to say, kept a very grave face.

Apparently satisfied at the young man's appearance, the narrator continued: "I have often seen it myself, and once, very clearly. I will never forget it to my dying day. It was pitch-dark and a drizzling rain was falling. I was walking hastily towards my home, when, on my right, I beheld a light. It danced up and down, now it came towards me, then it receded. I confess that I was nailed to the spot. I already seemed to feel its deathly grip. I was powerless to move. I could not scream. It was the old fellow who was already fascinating me. Fortunately, I remembered the words which my father had once told me: 'If ever you meet the _feu bellanger_, my boy, take off your coat, turn the sleeves inside out, and put it on so; it means that you will have nothing to do with it, and that you will resist its efforts to seize you.' I found strength enough to follow my father's advice. Hope must have sustained me. The bluish light remained about there for a few minutes more, then disappeared entirely."

"How thankful did I feel. With all speed, I hastened home to tell my parents of my narrow escape. They congratulated me; my father even took my hand and welcomed me as one risen from the dead."

"How does it kill the people it attacks?" Frank inquired.

"It flies with them to the seaside, or to the nearest pool and drowns them there."

"I once knew a man who was a downright ne'er do well. He was very much addicted to drink. One morning, he was found drowned in a stream."

"But," interposed Frank, "he might have stumbled in the stream whilst in a state of intoxication."

"No--no--no," said Pierre, "it was not that; the _feu bellanger_ was seen that very night near this spot where the corpse was afterwards found. Some people said that they had heard a scream. I quite believe it. It was the horrible monster's triumphal shout. He was celebrating his victory."

"You don't think it was the poor inebriate's cry for help," said Frank, forcing back a smile.

"I told you it was a shout of triumph," said old Pierre, losing patience and already angry at Frank's demeanour. "Moreover," he added, "I'll tell you something else, I have not finished yet.

"It's a well-known fact that the _feu bellanger_ dislikes sharpened tools, and fights with them if he happens to meet them. Being aware of this, my brother and I went to a place where we had seen the monster on the previous night. We had a sharp knife. We placed it with the handle in the ground and the keen blade sticking out."

"We watched from a distance to see if the _feu bellanger_ would pass that way, and seeing that it did not appear; when midnight came, we went home. But a neighbour told us on the morrow that he had seen it in the early hours of the morning, fighting against the knife.

"We straightway proceeded to the place where the knife was. Imagine our horror on finding that the blade was covered with blood."

"Some poor stray animal _did_ suffer," Frank could not help remarking. Old Pierre was terribly displeased. He rose to go about his work, muttering: "Wait till he sees it, when he gets caught, I bet he'll turn blue."

Frank thought about his labourer's story during the whole of the afternoon. "These superstitions do a great deal of harm to these poor people," he said in a soliloquy.

He therefore resolved to try and root out all these strange notions from Pierre's head. He soon felt a kind of ecstacy. It was a glorious thing to help bring about the time when science would sweep away all traces of ignorance.

If the theory of evolution was true, those times would come, so he decided to set to work at once upon this man.

It was a beginning, small perhaps, but he now believed in small beginnings.

He had not yet experienced what it is to try and convert a superstitious man.

It is very difficult to convince an ignorant person.