Death and the Cornish Fiddler Read Online Free PDF

pillow.
    “Does that seem familiar or am I imagining it?”
    “But there’s an extra instrument — or two even.”
    And she was up off the bed and had gone to the window, throwing open the casement in order to peer out. John followed, rather more lazily, and stood beside her.
    Below them, gathered outside The Angel, were the band of musicians they had encountered in Jamaica Inn. And, sure enough, they had acquired a mandora and a fagotto player - a somewhat unusual instrument - on their journey to Helstone. Leading them was the blind fiddler, who stood in their midst, foot tapping, body swaying, giving his all. A group of people had already gathered round them and were clapping to the persistent beat. John turned to Elizabeth.
    “Shall we join them? Rose is asleep so we can step outside for a while.”
    But Elizabeth was already pulling on her male garb, not bothering to squeeze into her stays. John, turning from the window, admiringly watched her dress. Her figure was the same as when he had first seen it, long and lean, almost masculine had it not been for the swell of her beautiful breasts.
    “You’re lovely,” he said sincerely.
    “You think so?” she answered with a half smile.
    “You know I do.”
    “Thank you.” And she turned away to complete her toilette.
    Five minutes later they were ready and went down into the street to join the small crowd gathered round the musicians. There were now six instrumentalists in all: the blind fiddler himself, the man with a pair of kettledrums strapped round his waist, the flautist - a wee pixie of a person - together with thetambourine, the mandora and the fagotto players. They had also acquired along the way a monkey with a tragic face. Dressed in a jacket and a small hat, both of which had seen better days, the wretched creature had attached itself to the tambourinist. He was a spry young fellow with curly brown hair and eyes almost the same colour. But for all that he was painfully thin and looked as if he could do with a good meal or three. The mandora player, on the other hand, although also thin, had the look of an aesthete, being long of hair and nose, and with a cultivated manner which added to the languid way he plucked the instrument’s strings. The fagotto blower, on the other hand, was fat and friendly, puffing his cheeks out as he played and generally looking round him with an amusing twinkle in his eye, making the crowd laugh. While the man with the kettledrums appeared a regular rogue, having a craggy face and periwinkle eyes which he fastened on the Marchesa with a very naughty gaze.
    “What a motley crew,” she said laughing.
    “But they make a good sound,” John answered. He bowed to her. “Shall we dance?”
    “Why not?”
    And the couple whirled off, only to be joined by others, so that in the end everyone - with the exception of one or two elderly people - was prancing away to the music. Eventually, though, it came to an end and the blind fiddler, assisted by the young tambourine player, sent the monkey round with a hat. As the creature approached, its two keepers not far behind, the Apothecary spoke.
    “Well done. Your music is most enjoyable.” The monkey rattled the hat which had a few coins in the bottom. “Now, I’d better pay you, young fellow.” John put out a tentative finger towards the creature but it backed away nervously. “Where did you get him?” he enquired of the tambourine man who had joined the group.
    The young chap bowed low. “Hello, Sir. I’m Gideon. I remember playing for you in Jamaica Inn. We actually bought him at a market. He had been with a band before apparently but for some reason was put up for sale. I think his previous owner died.”
    “He seems very nervous. Do you think he was badly treated?”
    “More than likely. We picked him up for very little money.”
    Elizabeth said in her straightforward way, “Well, I expect he’ll be well fed with you - and loved as best you can.”
    The young man