The Book of the Heathen Read Online Free PDF Page B

at him. I held the lantern to one side, causing its light to shine only against one wall, before drawing it into the doorway and spreading its glow over the whole of the small space.
    Frere sat against the opposite wall, a hand over his eyes.
    â€˜It’s me, Frasier,’ I said. I waited, but he made no attempt to answer me.
    His other hand was held in an iron ring set into the wall.
    I repeated my name.
    â€˜I know who you are,’ he said. He spoke hoarsely and slowly, his free hand still over his eyes.
    â€˜I’ve come to see if—’
    â€˜Don’t,’ he said.
    â€˜Don’t what?’
    â€˜Don’t try to help me. Don’t even come inside.’ The words were a great effort for him and he began to cough, unable to catch his breath. Saliva ran onto his chin.
    â€˜But this is barbaric,’ I said. ‘Unnecessary.’ I could not be certain, but I imagined he smiled at this, his mouth covered by his sleeve. He shuffled his legs until they were spread ahead of him. The low ring would have made it impossible for him to rise above a crouch.
    â€˜You need help,’ I said.
    He sat gasping, breathing in long draughts.
    â€˜At least let me try and bring you across to us.’
    He made no effort to speak again.
    â€˜Do you have water? Are you being fed sufficiently?’
    He nodded once to each question.
    I was distracted then by a shout from Proctor, who told me that my time with Frere was at an end. I regretted my small bribe.
    I knelt so that my face was level with Frere’s and put the lantern between us so that we might see each other more clearly. His free hand was still over his eyes, but I knew that it was not held so tightly over them so as to exclude all sight of me.
    â€˜I will help you,’ I said. If I had expected some small gesture of acknowledgement from him, some sign that the friendship and understanding between us was still intact – however worn or slender a thread it might now have become – then I was disappointed. For rather than lower his hand and look at me and speak to me, relieved that at last someone had come to him, he remained silent, and not only did he refuse to speak, but he then lowered his head until his chin rested on his chest and he looked through his fingers to the ground. I felt each of these small, deliberate getures like a blow.
    I remained where I was, examining him for any obvious sign of injury or suffering. The wrist of his chained hand was rubbed sore and bleeding, and he was gaunter than I had ever before seen him, and dirtier, his hair lank and matted; but other than this I could detect nothing that might require treatment.
    â€˜I have to go,’ I said to him. I rose, took up the lamp and backed out of the small space. In the darkness I saw him straighten, draw up his knees and raise his head. Shocked by his response to me, and having anticipated so different an encounter, I realized as I withdrew that it had been beyond me even to touch him.

3
    I was kept occupied over the next few days. Abbot complained to me that he was falling behind in his work because I was neglecting my own. He referred to my visit to see Frere as an ‘unnecessary diversion’. He wanted to know if my day-books reflected my absences and lack of progress.
    I worked late into the night. I visited the quarry and the quartermasters’ stores when there were few people present. I surveyed and recorded, and to save even more time I trusted the judgements and estimations of others, filling pages with the reckonings of both Fletcher and Cornelius. Neither man shared my urgency, though they too were constantly urged on by Abbot.
    â€˜Tell him what he wants to hear,’ Fletcher told me.
    â€˜Just as he tells our masters what they want to hear,’ Cornelius added. It genuinely saddened him to see how run-down our enterprise had become, how dependent it now was on almost rubber alone. He had helped control it during the