第23章 The Smithy in the Frost

The hook gave way on the seventy-first day, and it gave way at six in the morning, and it gave way with a sound like a small bone breaking, and the kettle came down out of the air and landed on the flagstones in front of the stove, and Mistress Tull's tin was flat on one side, and the chip in the rim was now a notch, and the coffee was in the floor. Turrel stood over it with the cloth in her hand and she did not say anything for a long while, and Kessin came in from the yard because she had heard it, and she stood in the kitchen door and she saw the flat kettle and the dark coffee and the empty hook, and she said, "The hook has gone." "The hook has gone," said Turrel. "It has rusted through," said Kessin. "It has rusted through," said Turrel. "It has rusted through because the wall has been wet for forty years," said Kessin. "Then the wall has been wet for forty years," said Turrel. "Then the wall is the wall," said Kessin. "Then the wall is the wall," said Turrel. "And the hook is gone, and the kettle is flat, and I cannot hang a kettle on a wall that will not hold." "I will hang it on a new hook," said Kessin. "You will hang it on a new hook," said Turrel. "And where will the hook come from." "From the smithy," said Kessin. "The smithy is shut," said Turrel. "The smithy will be open," said Kessin. "Hobb is the smith." "Hobb will not come out," said Turrel. "Hobb does not come out of the smithy because the smithy is where he puts the things he cannot put down." Kessin went out to the yard at seven and she took the bridle from the bench and she put it on Clack, and the donkey did not like it, and she walked him to the gate and she walked him out through the gate, and the lane was white with frost and the sun was coming up off the hedge, and she did not take the donkey to Gillanwick, because the donkey did not go to Gillanwick, and she walked him along the river to the old farm, and at the old farm the road turned into a track, and at the end of the track stood the smithy. The smithy was open, because the door was open a hand's width, and the fire was out, and the anvil was cold, and the bellows were full of dust, and Hobb stood behind the bench with his hands on it and he did not turn. "Good morning," said Kessin. He did not turn. "Hobb," said Kessin. "Go away," said Hobb. "I have lost a hook." "He does not want to see me," said the voice from the yard. Peth was standing in the yard gate with his case, and Clack was standing with his head turned away from the boy, and the boy put his case on the ground and he walked to the smithy door and he stood beside Kessin, and he said, "Good morning." "Good morning," said Hobb, and he did not turn. "We need a hook," said Peth. "Iron, to hang a kettle on a wet wall." "A kettle," said Hobb. "A kettle," said Peth. "The kettle is flat now, because the hook came away." "The kettle is flat," said Hobb. "Then the hook should have been better," said Hobb, and then, after a moment, "The hook was iron. Iron goes brown on a wet wall. It has been there forty years." "It has been there forty years," said Peth. "Then it had to go," said Hobb. "It did not fail. It finished." "It finished," said Peth. Hobb turned round, and he was a small man, bent, with hands like knots of rope, and he looked at Peth and he saw the face, and he set his hands down on the bench and he said, "You have Brin's hands." "I do not have Brin's hands," said Peth. "You have the lane in you," said Hobb. "The lane is in me," said Peth. Hobb looked at him for a moment, and then he went to the fire and he put wood on it and he worked the bellows, and the iron glowed, and he took a bar and he put it on the anvil, and he hammered, and the hammer went, and the fire went up, and Peth stood and watched, and Kessin stood and watched, and the donkey stood outside with his head turned away. He made the hook in an hour, and it was forged and it had a flat head that sat against the wall and a curl that would hold anything, and he folded it so that the end would not cut, and he rubbed it with grease, and he set it on the bench and he said, "The kettle goes on this." "I will take it," said Peth. "I will carry it," said Kessin. "It is hot." "The hook is not hot," said Peth. "The anvil is hot." "Then you carry it," said Kessin. He carried it out through the smithy door in one hand and he held the other hand out to Kessin, and Kessin took it, and he walked to the gate, and she walked beside him, and the donkey came round to meet them, and they walked back up the lane in the frost, and the sun came over the mill, and the hedge was green, and the river was under the mist, and the boy carried the hook and it was warm in his hand, and the chalk was on his thumb. Turrel stood at the kitchen door with the cloth, and she looked at the hook, and she took it from Peth and she felt the flat head, and she felt the curl, and she put it on the bench by the stove, and she did not say anything, and Peth said, "Hobb made it." "Hobb made it," said Turrel. "Hobb said the hook had finished," said Peth. "The hook had finished," said Turrel. She took the kettle and she set it on the hook, and the hook held it, and the kettle swung once and settled, and Turrel stood back and looked at it for a long moment, and then she turned to the stove and she put the coffee on, and she gave Kessin a cup. "The old woman made that hook too," said Turrel. "I know," said Kessin. "The old woman made that hook in 1863," said Turrel, "and it held for sixty-two years, and it did not fail, it finished." "It finished," said Kessin. "Then the hall does not fail," said Turrel. "The hall does not fail and the hall does not finish, because the hall is the wall." "The hall is the wall," said Kessin. "And the hook is the hook," said Turrel. "And the hook goes when it goes." "Then we will make another," said Kessin. "Then we will make another," said Turrel. "And we will make it at the smithy, and the smithy will make it because the smithy makes hooks, and the hook will hold for sixty-two years, and then it will finish, and the kettle will be flat, and the coffee will be in the floor, and I will stand over it with the cloth, and I will not say anything." "That is the whole of it," said Kessin. "That is the whole of it," said Turrel. "Sixty-two years." Peth put his case on the bench and sat down, and he ate the bread, and the coffee was hot and bitter and made by a woman who had been making it for forty years, and the kettle swung on the new hook, and the hook was warm from the anvil, and the yard was the yard. ---