The Time Dweller

THE GOLDEN BARGE

DAY GAVE WAY to night, inevitably, for the fourth time since wide-mouthed Jephraim Tallow had begun his chase. He slept at the rudder of his boat, trusting to his luck, and the next morning he awoke to find himself soaked to the skin, but still on course. The yellow overalls he. wore had not been made for use.

Outdoors and they had given him little protection. He had not slept well, for his dreams had been scarlet dreams; but now that it was morning, he could forget. What was one man's life? How did a single murder matter when the golden barge, which was his goal, moved surely onwards? The rain sliced down out of a grey sky, lancing into the waters of the river, spattering over the canvas of the boat. And a wind was beginning to blow. Instead of willows, rhododendrons now lined the banks of. the river. They were heavy with the fallen water, sinking beneath its sodden weight. The wind was rising and bending the bushes into rustling nightmare beasts which reached out to tempt Tallow ashore. He laughed at them hysterically, and the wind filled his ship's sail, distending it until the mast creaked in unison with Tallow's laughter. But Tallow ceased to laugh when he realized his danger; realized that he had no cause for laughter, for the wind was driving his vessel towards the luring bushes. Frantically, he attempted to adjust the sail, but the rig of the stolen boat was unfamiliar arid in his panic he succeeded only in tangling the knots into a worse mess.

The wind blew stronger, bending the mast, swelling the sail like a cannibal's belly.

He tore at the knots until his fingers bled and his nails were creased, he had to concentrate on controlling the rudder in order to keep the boat on some kind of course. He saw that he was nearing a bend in the river, and saw two other things: a white flash against the dark green mass of foliage and the golden barge just ahead, looming tall. With an effort, he calmed himself, realizing that in his panic he had not sighted his objective, the mysterious implacable barge. He had. killed so that he should be able to follow it and now he dare not let it escape. He needed to stay on course just long enough to reach the barge and board her and he knew that he could, but, even as his boat's prow gashed the waters in furious speed, he came to the bend in the river and his ship lurched and shuddered to a halt. He realized that he had run aground on one of the many hidden sand-bars which plagued river traffic.

Angry, and screaming his disappointment to the wind and the rain, Tallow leapt out into the shallow water and attempted to heave the ship off the bar as rain smote him in the face and flayed his skin. His efforts were useless. In a second, the barge had disappeared from his sight and he had sunk to his knees in the water, sobbing in frustration. The rain began to fall with lessening intensity and the velocity of the wind dropped, but still Tallow remained on his knees, bowed in the swirling, dirty water, his hands above him, gripping the sides of the boat. The rain and wind subsided and eventually the sun dissected the clouds. The sun shone on the boat, on Tallow, on the river, on bushes and trees and on a white house, five storeys high, which gleamed like the newly-washed face of a child.

Tallow lifted red eyes and sighed. He tried once: more to move the boat, but could not. He looked around him. He saw the house. He would need help. With a shrug, he splashed kneedeep through the water, to the bank, climbing up its damp, crumbling, root-riddled earth and cursing his luck.

Tallow, in some ways, was a fatalist, and his fatalism at last came to the rescue of his sanity as ahead of him he saw a wall of red-brick, patched with black moss-growths. His mood changed almost instantly and he was once again his old, cold cocky self. For beyond the wall he could see the head and shoulders of a woman. The barge could wait for a little while.

She was a sharp-jawed, pout-lipped beauty and her eyes were green as scum. She wore a battered felt hat and stared at Tallowover the short stone wall which reached almost to her shoulder.

She smiled at him. One of her delightfully even teeth was stained brown; two others were green, matching her eyes.

Tallow's senses for women had been dormant to the point of atrophy for years. Now he savoured the knowledge that he was going to form an attachment for this one. For the moment, he hugged the knowledge to himself.

'Good morning, madam,' he said, straddling his legs and making a low, ungainly bow. ' My sloop ran aground and I'm stranded.'

'Then you must stay with me,' she smiled again and put her head on one side by way of emphasizing the invitation.' That's my house over there.' She stretched a rounded arm and pointed.

Her fingers were long and delicate, terminating in purplepainted talons. The house was the big white one Tallow had seen.

'A fine house it is, too, madam, by the looks of it.' Tallow swaggered towards the low wall.

'It is fine,' she admitted. ' But rather empty. I have only two servants.'

'Not enough,' Tallow frowned. ' Not enough.' He could always catch the barge up, he thought. He vaulted the wall. This was a remarkable feat for one of his slight stature, and he achieved it with a delicacy and grace normally alien to him. He stood beside her. He looked at her from beneath half-closed lids.

'I would be grateful for a bed for the night,' he said. ' And help in the morning. My ship must be refloated.'

'I will arrange it,' she promised. She had mobile lips which moved smoothly around the words as she spoke. She was slimwaisted and full-hipped. Her bottom was round and firm beneath a skirt of yellow wool. Her large breasts pushed at the shining silk of a black blouse and the heels of her shoes were six inches long. She turned and headed for the house. ' Follow me,' she said.

Tallow followed, marvelling at the way she kept her balance on her high heels. Without them, he thought gleefully, she was only an inch or so taller than he. She led him-through the garden of spear-like leaves, finally arriving at a sandy road which wound towards the house.

A two-wheeled carriage stood empty, drawn by a bored donkey. The woman's flesh was soft and it itched at Tallow's fingertips as he helped her into the carriage, doing mental somersaults all the while. He grinned to himself as he got in beside her and took the reins.

'Gee up!' he shouted. The donkey sighed, and moved forward at a tired shuffling trot.

Five minutes later, Tallow tugged hard at the donkey's reins and brought the cart to a crunching-halt on the gravel outside the house. A flight of solid stone steps led up to big timber doors which were half-open. 'My home,' the woman remarked superfluously and Tallow felt a disappointed shock at this inanity; but the feeling soon passed as it was replaced by his glee for his good fortune.

'Your home!' he yelled. 'Hurrah!' He didn't bother to mask his emotions any more. He bounced out of the carriage and helped her from it. Her legs were well-shaped and trim. She smiled and laughed and treated him to a gorgeous display of brown, green and white. They climbed the steps together, leaping up them like ballet-dancers, with their feet clattering in time. Her hand slipped into his as they pushed the door open and marched info a hall with rafters lost in gloom. It was a shadowy hall, hushed as a church. Dust flew in a single beam of sunlight which entered by way of the door which was apparently warped, for it didn't shut completely. Dust swirled into Tallow's nostrils and he sneezed. She laughed delightfully.

'My name's Pandora,' she told him loudly. ' What's yours?'

'Tallow,' he replied, his eyes watering and his nose still Itching.' Jephraim Tallow, at your service!'

'At my service!' She clapped her hands and the echoes reverberated around the hall. 'At my service!' She clapped and laughed until the hall resounded with the applause and laughter of a vast audience.

A voice, like the last trump, boomed and crashed into Tallow's startled ear-drums. ' Do you require me, madam?'

Staring through the gloom as the last echo fluttered in distant corners, Tallow was surprised to see that the hollow trumpet voice emanated from a bent and wizened ancient, clad in faded finery of gold and silver, tarnished and varnished with long years of wear. Pandora answered the servant: ' Dinner, Fench!' she cried.' Dinner for two - and make it good!'

'Yes, madam.' With a swirl of dust, the bent one vanished through a barely discernible door.

'One of my servants,' whispered Pandora confidingly. She frowned. 'The other one's his wife-damn her!' She cursed quite viciously; softly and sibilantly, like a snake spitting.

Tallow, knowing nothing of the place, wondered how an old woman could arouse such wrath in Pandora. But a thousand reasons swam into his head and he rejected them all. He was not a man to jump to conclusions. Conclusions were too final they led to death. She clutched his hand and led him through the hall to where wide oak stairs twisted upwards. ' Come, Jephraim,' she murmured.' Come my tender Tallow, and let us get you dressed!'

Tallow recovered his self-confidence and rushed like a rabbit up the stairway, his long legs stepping high. They polka'd hand in hand to the third floor of the vast, dark house. Their hair, his red, hers black as jet, flew behind them and they laughed all the while, happily insensitive to everything but themselves.

Up to the third floor they bounded, and she. led him to a door, one of a number, as solid as its fellows. He was slightly out of breath, for he was not used to climbing so many stairs.

As she strained to turn the knob on the door, using both hands, bending her body and screwing up her face until eventually the door creaked open, he began to hiccup.

Meanwhile, the wind which had driven Tallow on to the sand bar was howling around the golden barge as it pushed calmly onwards towards whatever victories or dooms awaited it.

'Jephraim,' whispered Pandora, as he sat back in his chair, sipping brandy from a glass as big as his head.

He grunted questioningly, smiling foolishly. The meal had been liberally diluted with night-red wine.

'Jephraim-where are you from?' She leant forward across the small table. She had changed into a dress of dark, sentient blue which flowed off her smooth shoulders to cascade like dangerous ice down her body, to flare suddenly at the knees.

She wore two rings on her left hand; sapphires and emeralds and around her soft throat hung a thin chain of gold. Tallow's new emotions were rioting through him and a childish awe for his good fortune still stuck in part of his mind, even as he stretched but a hand and groped for Pandora's taloned fingers.

Pinpricks of excitement and anticipation were becoming too much to bear and his voice throbbed.as he spoke, echoing his heart-beats.

'From a town many miles away,' he said, and this appeared to satisfy her.

'Where were you going, Jephraim?' This question was asked idly, as if she didn't expect him to answer.

'I was-I am-following a golden ship which passed your house just before I ran aground. Did you see it?'

She laughed, and her laughter hurt him causing him to withdraw his hand.' Silly Tallow,' she cried.' No such ship passed and I didn't see it for I was in the garden a long while - watching the river. I never miss the ships.'

'You missed this one,' he muttered, glaring into his glass.

'Your jokes are hard to understand, Jephraim,' she said more softly. ' But I'm sure I'll like them - when we know each other better.' Her voice dropped lower and lower until it was almost inaudible, but the timbre of it was enough to churn Tallow's thoughts into other channels almost immediately. Some of his self-assurance, so badly shattered recently, returned to him and he folded his ten fingers around the brandy glass, lifted it, and poured the entire contents down his throat. He smacked his lips and gasped, then put the glass down with a bang, clattering the dirty cutlery.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, the scarlet sleeve of his new corduroy jacket somewhat impeding this action, and looked around the small candle-lit room until it blurred. Pettishly, he shook his head to clear it and, supporting himself with hands spread on the table, stood up. He looked intently into her eyes and she smiled hesitantly.

'Pandora, I love you.' He was relieved now that it was over.

'Good,' she purred. ' That makes it so much easier.'

Tallow was too drunk to wonder what it was which would be easier. He ignored the statement and rocked towards her. She stood up, slowly, carefully, and glided towards him. He gathered her in and kissed her throat. As she was standing up, he couldn't quite reach her mouth. Her breasts pushed against his chest and her arms slid up his back, one hand caressing the nape of his neck; The other hand moved startlingly down his back and around his hip.

'Ouch!' he moaned a moment later. 'That ring hurts!' She pouted, then smiled, and took her rings off. He wriggled in his tight, black velvet trousers and wished that he were naked.

'Shall we go to bed, now?' she suggested at just the right moment.

'Yes,' agreed Tallow with earnest certainty.' Yes.' She supported his reeling body as they left the room and made their way up the flight of stairs to her own bedroom.

A week throbbed by. A bedded week, wearing for Tallow, but delightful. Pandora's expert lessons had taught him, among other things, that he was a man; a man, to boot, who had learned to please Pandora. The week had taught him something else, something subtler, and he now had a tighter rein on his emotions; could control both appetite and expression to a greater degree.

Tallow lay in bed beside a sleeping Pandora, attempting to shift the sheet which covered her. His eyes were as yet unsatiated by the sight of her lying naked and at his mercy. The truth was, he had to admit, that for the most part he was inextricably at her mercy. But Pandora was a woman, and took only the right and honest advantage of her superior position. Tallow remained in love with her and the love grew strongly and he was content.

Her yielding and her occasional pleas were rare, but could be savoured for their rarity. Weariness, however, was encroaching to make a wreck of Tallow. He slept longer, made love a trifle less violently, though with more skill, and even now, after ten hours of sleep, he did not feel rested, but none the less, he was content. He felt happiness and sometimes sadness when Pandora unknowingly outraged him, but the joy far outweighed the pain.

He had just laid bare her breasts, when she awoke. She blinked and then opened her eyes as widely as she could, looked at him, looked down and gently drew the sheet back towards her chin. Tallow grunted his disappointment, raised himself on one elbow, cushioned his head in his. hand, and stared down at her.

'Good morning,' he said with mock accusation.

"Morning, Jephraim.' She smiled like a schoolgirl, stirring tenderness and desire in him. He flung himself upon her in a flurry of sheeting. She laughed, gasped, was silent for some Seconds, and then kissed him.

'I earned it, didn't I?' she said, staring into his eyes.

'You did,' he rolled over and sat up in bed.

'You need me, don't you?' she said softly, behind him.

'Yes,' he said, and then paused, thinking-he had answered! the question too quickly. Before he had considered it again properly, he had said: ' At least -I think so.'

Her voice was still soft, unchanged: 'What do you meanyou think so?'

'Sorry,' he smiled, turning towards her and looking down at her.' Sorry -I don't know what I meant.'

She frowned then, and shifted in the bed. 'I don't knoweither,' she said. ' I don't know what you mean. What did you mean?'

'I've told you,' he said, deciding that he was a fool.' I don't know.'

She turned over on her side, towards the wall, away from him.

'Either you need me or you don't.'

'That's not strictly true,' Tallow sighed. ' I can need you and I can't. There are things to need at certain times. I need you sometimes.' I'm right, he thought-for it was clear to him now and it had never been so, before.

She was silent.

'It's true, Pandora,' he knew that he should stop. ' Surely you see that it's true.

'Love isn't everything,' he mumbled lamely, feeling uncertain and beaten.

'Isn't it?' Her voice was muffled and cold.

'No!' he said, anger coming to his rescue. He got up, pulled on his clothes and walked over to the window, viciously tearing back the curtains. It was raining outside. He could see the river in the distance. He stood by the window for a few seconds and then turned back to stare at the bed. Pandora still faced the wall and he couldn't see her expression.

He stamped from the room, on his way to the bathroom. He felt troubled and annoyed, but he couldn't analyse the feeling; He knew, somehow, that he was right; knew that he shouldn't have spoken to her as he had, but was glad, also, that he had. done so. The floor was cold to his bare feet as he walked, and he could hear the rain beating to the ground and on to the roof.

It was a drab, unsettled day and. fitting for his mood.

At breakfast, she soon got over her former temper and, for the moment at least, they had forgotten their earlier conflict.

'What shall we do, today, Jephraim?' she said, putting down her coffee cup.

In a half-dream, not really aware of what he was saying, 'Tallow answered on the spur of the moment: 'Ride! That's what we'll do! You have some horses, I've seen them.'

'I have -but I didn't know you could ride.'

'I can't,' he grinned, 'I can't, sweetheart, but I can learn!'

'Of course you can!' She was now in his mood. 'But what shall we do about the rain?'

'To hell with the rain - it can't affect us. Come, love - to horse!' He galloped like an idiot from the breakfast-room.

Laughing, she ran after him.

They rode all through the day, stopping sometimes to eat and to make love when the sun shone. They rode, and after two uncertain hours, Tallow soon learned how to sit his mare and to guide her. He was still an amateur, but a fast learner. Since the night he had seen the barge, he had been learning many things, quickly. Ideas rushed into his open, greedy mind and he gratefully absorbed them. So they rode through the rain and the sunshine and they laughed and loved together, forgetful of anything else; Tallow with his tiny frame and long legs, perched high above the ground on a chestnut mare; Pandora, petite and voracious for his attention, sometimes gay, often enigmatic, always honest; Pandora, a woman.

They rode for hours until at last they came to a stretch of the river upstream, which Tallow had passed a week earlier when asleep. They came to a hill and breathless and excited, fell into one another's arms, dovetailed together, and sank on to the damp turf, careless and carefree.

'Your river,' whispered Pandora, some time later.' I'll always think of it as yours, now. I used to think it was mine, but I know it isn't.'

Tallow was puzzled. He said: 'It's everyone's river-that's the beauty of it. Everyone's.'

'No,' she said. 'It's yours -I know.'

'It's not just mine, darling,' he said tenderly. ''Anyone can sail on it, bathe in it, drink from it. That's why it's there.'

'Perhaps,' she compromised at last. ' Perhaps it is, but I.know what I shall always think. The river is your life.'

'One day, I may make you a present of it, sweetheart,' he smiled, and he was right, though he didn't know it.

He stared at the river and then, just for a fleeting moment, he saw the golden barge, sailing calmly, as it always did, unruffled. He turned to her, pointing.' There!' he cried excitedly.

'There-now you see I wasn't joking! The golden ship!' But when he looked again, it had gone and Pandora was getting up, walking towards the horses.

'You always spoil things,' she said. ' You always say something to worry me.'

In silence, they rode away from the river and Tallow thought! carefully of the barge and Pandora.

Later that night, the rift unhealed, they sat in front of the dining-room fire, morosely drinking. She was truculent, unapproachable, he was turbulent, wondering if, after all, the? things he wanted were so unattainable. So they sat, until there was a disturbance outside and Tallow went to the window to see? what was happening. It was dark and he couldn't see much.

The night was a confusion of laughter and screams, flickering torches and shifting shadows. Tallow saw that a drunken group was coming towards the house. He welcomed the interruption.

'Visitors,' he said.' Revellers.'

'I don't want to see them.'

'Why not - we could have a party or something?'

'Shut, up!' she pouted.

He sighed and went downstairs into the dark, cold, draughty hall. By the time he reached it, people were thumping on the half-open door.

'Is anyone in?'

'Shelter for some poor weary travellers, I beg thee!'

Laughter.

'Are you sure this house belongs to someone?' A woman's voice, this. Answered by another woman: ' Yes, dear, I saw a light in an upstairs window.'

'Is anyone home?'

'We've got plenty of bottles!'

Laughter again.

Tallow pulled the door back and stood confronting the interlopers, who worried him. They represented a threat which he could not define. ' Good evening,' he said, belligerently now.

'Good evening, my dear sir, good evening to you!' A grinning, patronizing corpulence, swathed in extravagant clothing, a cloak, knee-length boots, a top-hat, bearing a silver-worked cane and bowing theatrically.

'Can I help you?' said Tallow, hoping that he couldn't.

'We're lost.' The man was drunk. He swayed towards Tallow and stared at him intently, his breath stinking of alcohol.' We're lost, and have nowhere to go! Can you put us up?'

'This isn't my house,' said Tallow in stupefaction. ' I'll see You'd better come in anyway. How'd you" get this far?'

'By boat - boats - lots of boats. Fun. Until we got lost, that is.'' All right,' Tallow walked back up the stairs and rejoined Pandora. She was still sulking.

'Who is it?' she said petulantly.' Tell them to go away and let's get to bed.'

'I agree, dearest,' Tallow's mood changed to its former state and his quick tongue babbled, though he didn't mean what he said. ' But we can't turn them away - they're lost. They can sleep here - won't bother us, will they?'

'I suppose I'd better see them, Jephraim,' she got up, kissed him and together, warmly, arm in arm, they went downstairs.

The revellers' torches were still burning, turning the dusty hall into a madly dancing inferno, of leaping light and shuddering shadow. As the fat leader saw Pandora and Tallow descend the stairs, he leered at Pandora. 'The lady of the house!' he bawled to his friends, and they laughed, uneasily; he was embarrassing them now. The noise in the dusty cavern of a hall, became a zoo-like cacophony.

Pandora said politely, but without feeling: 'You may stay the night here, if you wish. We have plenty of beds.' She turned to go upstairs.

'Beds!'

The drunken mob took up the word gleefully, chanting it round the hall. ' Beds. Beds.

Beds.'

After a short while, the sound became even more meaningless and they subsided into high-pitched laughter, Pandora and Tallow stood observing them.' Let's have some light, Jephraim,' she suggested.

With a shrug, Tallow reluctantly borrowed a torch from a reveller and began to ignite the wicks of the candles. The hall erupted with light, dazzling the occupants. Again the giggling began. In the centre of the hall was a long table, chairs lining the walls. This was the first tune Tallow had seen the room lighted. Grime was everywhere and the paint was peeling.

Mildew had formed in patches on the ceiling and walls and the light only served to pick it out. Tallow shrugged and moved to return upstairs again, but Pandora put her hand, on his arm.

'We'll stay for a short while,' she said. I wish she'd make up her mind, he thought glumly, now regretting the impulse which had driven him to allow the people admission. They were soft, these people, soft beyond Tallow's experience, pampered darlings to the last; slim, brittle-eyed women and fat, blank-eyed men, bewilderedly running over the surface of life, discontent with their own fear-moulded values and afraid to find new ones, fooling themselves that they were alive. Tallow could only pity them and loathe what they represented. Every second they remained, they drove him into himself, retreating into the embracing depths of his own dark soul.

He continued to stare at them from out of his skull; continued. to stare as bottles were piled on the table and Pandora was lost among the others, absorbed into their shallowness. Tallow was vaguely terrified then, but his mind refused to control his body as he stood on the stairs watching them, unable to leave or to join them. Clothes were flung in all directions and Tallow saw a blue dress and a black cape flutter outwards together. Naked bellies wobbled and naked breasts bounced, and white unhealthy flesh was a background for dark hair. Tallow felt ill. At last his feet dragged him upwards back to the bedroom. His ego had been shattered; but the pain of his loss, of his humiliation, was greater. He lay on the bed, sobbing; thoughtless and emotionful, his whole world a timeless flood of self-pity.

He lay, his head throbbing and aching, for hours; eventually falling into a fitful slumber which lasted another hour. When he eventually awoke, he was calm. He knew that he had done wrong, had destroyed part of himself in denying the barge for Pandora's love - or his own love for Pandora. He. had delayed too long, and the barge should be followed, if there was still time. That was his aim, his goal, his function in life - to follow the barge and to go where it led him, immaterial of what other things distracted him. He got a large woollen cloak from a cupboard and put it around his shoulders. Then he left, perturbed that he would have to pass through the hall on his way out.

When he readied it, he was astounded.

In the centre of the room was a pulsating pyramid of flesh; clean flesh and dirty flesh; soft flesh and rough flesh. It was ludicrous. There were limbs of all descriptions in most peculiar juxtaposition. A pair of pink buttocks seemed to spring an arm; noses lay upon legs, eyes peered from beneath genitals, faces on torsos, breasts upon toes. Such a scene might have disgusted Tallow, instead he was bewildered, for the strangest sight of all was the arm which waved at the top of the throbbing human mountain. It clutched a corruscating wineglass. The fingers were purple-painted talons; Pandora's fingers. Every so often the arm would disappear into the pile and the glass would return, less full, held like Liberty's torch, to its place above the pyramid.

Tallow swallowed, his eyes wide. On tip-toe, his bitterness surging inside him once more, he circumnavigated the heap and pulled on the door.

'Goodnight, Pandora,' he called as he left.

The wineglass waved. ' Goodnight, Jephraim, see you later!'

The voice was muffled and slurred, tinged with a false gaiety which was not like honest Pandora at all; normally she was either happy or sad or troubled, never false in her feelings.

'No you won't, Pandora,' he shouted as he at last pulled the door open and fled into the rain-sodden night, blindly running down the sandy path, towards the river. Running from something which remained inside him, which he couldn't flee from, which was destroying him and which he was powerless to combat. So Tallow fled.

The boat was still on the sand-bar, half-full of rainwater. Tallow looked at it dispiritedly. Then, with a shrug, he took off his cloak and lowered his legs into the cold, murky water. He shivered, tensed and forced himself forward. The boat's timber felt good to his hands as he hoisted himself into it. He stared through the gloom, searching for the baling pans. At last he found them and began baling the water over the side.

When he had finished, he swung into the water again and slowly made his way round the ship, inspecting it as much as he could in the dim moonlight. Then he returned to the stern and put his shoulder to it, heaving. The boat shifted slightly. He moved round to the port side and began rocking it, shifting some of the compressed sand.

Three hours later, the boat was afloat. Weary with his effort, he sank into it and lay on the wet boards, half-asleep. He eventually arose when he heard someone moving about on the shore.

Levering himself upright, he looked over the side and saw Pandora standing there, framed against the moonlight, her hair wild and ruffled by the wind, a man's dark cloak around her.

'Jephraim,' she said, ' I'm sorry-I don't know how it happened.'

Tallow, his heart heavy in him, his mind dull, said: ' That's all right, Pandora. I'm going now, anyway.'

'Because of-that?' She pointed back to the house.

'No,' he said slowly, ' at least, not just because of that. It helped.'

'Take me with you,' she repeated humbly.' I'll do whatever you want.'

He was perturbed. 'Don't, Pandora - don't lose your respect for my sake.' He was shaking out the sail.' Goodbye!' But she flung herself into the water and. grasped the side of the boat, pulling herself into it with desperate strength.' Go back, Pandora!' he shouted, seeing his doom in her action.' Go back-go back! It's finished - you'll destroy me and yourself!' She made her way towards him, flinging her bedraggled body at his feet in horrible and uncharacteristic humility. 'Take me!' she moaned.

The boat was now in midstream, making swiftly away from the bank.

'Oh, God, Pandora,' he sobbed. 'Don't make me-I must follow the barge.'

'I'll come, Jephraim, darling. I'll come with you.'

Tears painted.his face in gleaming trails, he was breathing quickly, his brain in tumult, a dozen emotions clashing together, making him powerless for any action save speech.

He gave in suddenly, ashamed for her degradation. He sank down beside her, taking her wet, heaving body in his arms and in sympathy with her grief. And so, locked together in their fear and bewilderment, they slept.

Dawn was vicious, cloudless, bright. Tallow's eyes ached.

Pandora still remained in troubled slumber, but she was on the borderline of wakefulness. As she sighed and began to struggle towards consciousness, an overpowering feeling of pity for her welled up in him. Then he looked down the river where it stretched straight into the horizon. Gold glimmered. Tallow acted. It was now or never.

He picked her up in his arms. She smiled in her sleep, loving him. He wrenched her away from him and hurled her outwards - hurled her into the river.

She screamed suddenly, in horror, as realization came.