Филиппа Карр - Midsummer's Eve

It was difficult to recognize some of them in the dim light. They seemed like different people. I saw Jack Gort with some sort of helmet on his head. He was tall and did not look so much like the man from whom we bought our fish on the quay as some marauding Viking. Several of the young men carried torches which they swung round their heads in a circular movement to indicate the movement of the sun in the heavens. The moors looked different; people looked different; the night had imbued them with a certain mysterious quality.

I saw several of the servants from Cador with Isaacs.

"Keep well back," warned Jacco.

I obeyed, realizing that we must not be seen for if we were, we should probably be sent back.

I thought, as I watched that scene, that this was how it must have been centuries ago. The people who had danced round the bonfire. Just have looked a little different, but the ceremony was the same.

They said nowadays that the purpose was to bring a blessing on the crops; in the old days it had been-so Rolf had told us-what was a led a fertility rite which concerned all living things, including People, and when they had worked themselves up into a frenzy with dancing, they crept off together to make love. One of the women started chanting and the others joined in. It was sta°H8 W^c^ ^d come down through the ages. I could not under the words, for they were in the Cornish language.

Then I saw a tall figure who stood out among all the others. He looked like a monk in the grey robe which enveloped him.

I knew that robe. Rolf! I thought.

People clustered round him. It was as though they were making him master of the ceremonies.

Up to that time it had been like many another Midsummer's Eve which I had watched from my parents' carriage-the only difference being that on this night Jacco and I were here alone and in secret. But I was sure that if my parents had thought of it they would have ordered one of the grooms to bring us here to see the bonfire.

And then suddenly it ceased to be like any other Midsummer's Eve.

The robed figure moved apart from the crowd; he approached the bonfire, and clutching his robe about him, he leaped high in the air ... right over the bonfire. There was a deep silence as the flames appeared to lick his robe. Then he was clear on the other side.

A shout went up: "Bravo! Bravo!”

"'Ee be free of the witches for a year," cried someone.

"The fire didn't touch 'un.”

"He did jump right clear.”

I saw one of the barmaids from the Fisherman's Rest run up to the fire. She threw up her arms and attempted to leap over it.

I heard her scream as she fell into the flames.

Jack Gort was close by; he immediately dragged her out; her dress was on fire. I watched in shocked silence while they beat out the flames.

"How ... crazy!" said Jacco.

"Papa forbade them to do it," I said.

People crowded round the barmaid, who was lying on the grass.

"I wonder if she's badly hurt," I whispered.

"They'll blame the witches," said Jacco.

"But she did it herself.”

"That man started it. It wasn't so risky for him. If that thing he is wearing had caught fire he could easily have thrown it off.”

The barmaid was now standing up and I was relieved to see that she was not badly hurt. I felt I wanted to go. I could not understand why Rolf-who knew my father had forbidden it-should have leaped over the fire. I did not want him to see us here.

"Better take her back to the Rest," someone said. "Here ... you, Jim. You take her. You and she is said to be sweethearts.”

"I think we ought to go," I said quietly to Jacco. "There won't be much dancing and singing.”

"Wait a bit.”

T saw the man they had called Jim put the barmaid on his horse. They moved away.

Jack Gort had rescued her in time and she was more shocked than anything.

Someone started to sing but the others did not take it up. The mood had changed and I thought that would be the end of the revelries on that Midsummer's Eve.

Then I saw a crowd gathering round a boy who held something in his hands. It was wriggling and mewing piteously. A cat! I thought, and instinct told me to whom that cat belonged. It was Mother Ginny's. I knew the boy slightly. I had seen him on the quay looking for a chance to earn a few pence doing odd jobs for the fishermen.

He shouted: "Here's a way to fight against them witches. They ain't going to get the better of the likes of we.”

He held up the cat by the scruff of its neck.

"Mother Ginny's Devil's mate. Satan's gift to the wicked old witch.”

The cat moved and must have scratched him for with a yell of pain he threw the animal straight into the flames.

I felt sick. I knew that Jacco was equally affected. We loved our animals, both of us; our dogs were our friends and the kitchen cat, which Mrs. Penlock declared was the best mouser in Cornwall, was a special favourite.

Jacco had his hand on my rein, for I had started forward.

"No," he hissed. "You can't.”

Then I heard the scream of an animal in pain and there was silence.

The boy was crying out, excusing himself: "Look what 'un done to me” He held up his bleeding hand. "Tis the only way to save ourselves. II 'as to be done ? ? ? a living thing they all us say- Well' ^s " ? - . the witch's cat. That'll be one of 'em out of the way.”

The moment of horror had passed. Everyone seemed to be talking. They were forming a group round one figure. I saw the grey e m the midst of them. He was talking to them but I could not understand what he was saying, for they all started to move. Some of them had carts, others horses. Jacco said to me: "Come on. We're going. We're going now '' ' "Us minute.”

As I followed him I kept hearing the cry of the cat and I just wanted to go back to the safety of my room. I could not stop thinking about Rolf there with them, Rolf ... our friend ... the one of whom I had made a hero ... and he was there in the midst of them-a sort of leader.

Jacco was not making for home.

"Jacco," I said. "What... ? Where... ?”

"We're going to the woods. That's where they're going.”

"Why?”

"That's what we've got to find out. At least I've got to. You can go home.”

"I'm coming too.”

As we came into the woods I could hear voices in the distance. I wanted to go back, to creep into bed. I had a horrible fear that tonight was going to be like no other night I had ever known. I kept saying to myself: If my father were here this would never happen.

But it was happening. And I had to see it.

"Be careful," said Jacco. "They mustn't know we're here. They'd send us home if they did.”

We knew the woods well and we went a roundabout way, for both Jacco and I knew their destination. They were already at the clearing in the woods and their torches gave an unearthly light to the scene.

The first thing I noticed was the grey robe. He was there. He was leading them ... inciting them. I could not believe that this was the Rolf I had always known.

He had always been so kind, so understanding about everything. He could not be so cruel. I knew that he loved the old customs. He liked to experiment. I could imagine that he would wonder how easily people would revert to less civilized days.

I saw the cottage through a gleam of light. They were close now, waving their torches.

They were all shouting and I could not hear what was said except that it was something about the witch.

Then someone called: "Come out, witch. Show yourself. Don't 'ee be afraid. We won't 'urt 'ee ... leastways no more than 'ee have hurt us.”

I gasped. She had come out of the cottage. She must have been in bed for she was in a nightgown, her grey hair streaming about her shoulders. Their torches lit up her face and I saw the fear there.