第12章 The Schoolmaster's Son

Barsham came to the Saltwyke house on the eighth evening, at nine, before the tide was out, with his coat buttoned and his collar up. He did not come in. He stood on the shingle in front of the door and looked at Nissa. "The boy is not in the back room," he said. Nissa looked at him. She had the door open. She did not close it. "He went out at dusk. He took the marshlight. He did not come back. I walked the reed. I walked to the first step. I did not see him." "Barsham," Nissa said. "What is his name." Barsham did not answer. "Barsham. What is his name." Barsham looked at her. He put his hand on his chest. He looked at the marsh. "You have asked three times," he said. "You have asked three times and I have not told you, because I have not told the parson, and I have not told the boatman, and I have not told the folklorist, and I have not told the boy." "He is sixteen. He has been in your schoolhouse for eight years. His father is a fisherman who works the small boats. His father went to the marsh yesterday. His father has not come home." Barsham did not move. "I am going to walk to the marsh with the tide out," Nissa said. "I am going to walk to the ninth step. I am going to walk to Ashenholt. I am going to find him and bring him back. I am going to keep the account and send the substitution and say a prayer, and the account is going to be kept, and nothing else is going to be done." "His name. What is his name." Barsham looked at her. He put his hand on the door handle. He did not open the door. He looked at the marsh. He looked at Nissa. "His name is Barsham," he said. Nissa stood in the doorway with her hand on the frame. "You sent the boy to the marsh." "I did not send the boy to the marsh. I told the boy to go." "You told him to find the child." "I told him to find the slate." "You told him to bring the slate back to me." "Yes." "Barsham. The boy is your son." "Yes." "The boy is Barsham. You are the schoolmaster, and the schoolmaster's book is the third ledger, and the third ledger is in the schoolhouse, and the schoolhouse is on the marsh, and the marsh is going to Barsham." Barsham looked at her. He did not say anything. He put his hand off the door handle. He stepped back. He looked at the marsh. He looked at the sky. "If I send the substitution, does the account end," Nissa said. Barsham looked at her. "No," he said. "Does the account end if I do not send the substitution." "No." "What does the account end on, then." Barsham did not answer. He looked at the marsh. He looked at Nissa. "I sent the boy to bring you the slate, because the slate has the words on it, and the words are going to come to you whether I send the boy or not." "The boy is your son. You are the schoolmaster. Your father was the schoolmaster. Your father's father was the schoolmaster." "Yes." "Your grandfather was the schoolmaster in 1852. He taught Merle's grandmother the alphabet. He kept his book for her." "Yes." "And now the boy is on the marsh, and the boy has not come home, and the boy is Barsham, and Barsham is your son." Barsham looked at her. He put his hand on his chest. He put his hand off his chest. He did not say anything. He stood on the shingle with the marsh behind him, and the marsh was waiting, and the water was going in, and the first step stood in the mud. "Is the boy dead," Nissa said. Barsham did not answer. "Is the boy dead." "I do not know if the boy is dead." "Is the boy on the steps." "I do not know if the boy is on the steps." "Barsham. Where is the boy." Barsham looked at her. He put his hand on the door handle. He did not open the door. He looked at the marsh. He did not move. He went away. Nissa stood in the doorway with her hand on the frame, and the door stood open, and the room behind her was dark, and the slate was on the kitchen table, and the Ledger was on the shelf, and the pans were cold, and the shingle was wet, and the marsh was behind Barsham, and Barsham was going away, and Nissa did not close the door, and Nissa did not go to the marsh, and Nissa did not decide, and Nissa stood in the doorway with her hand on the frame. Isaac Threave came up the lane at ten, with his coat unbuttoned and his boots wet, and he did not stop at the door, and he walked past Nissa into the house, and he did not sit down, and he stood at the kitchen table with his hand on it, and he did not look at the slate, and he did not look at the Ledger, and he said, "The boy is not on the marsh." Nissa did not ask how he knew. "The boy is not on the marsh," Isaac said. "The boy is not on the marsh, and the boy is not at the steps, and the boy is not at Ashenholt, and the boy is not at his father's boat, and the boy is not at the schoolhouse, and the boy is not at the church, and the boy is not at the pans, and the boy is not in the back room, and the boy is not in the marsh, and the boy is not in Harnsey Wick, and the boy is not in the village, and the boy is not in the parsonage, and the boy is not in the school, and the boy is not in the Saltwyke house." Nissa looked at him. "Where is the boy," she said. Isaac Threave put his hand on the table. He did not look at Nissa. He did not say anything. He put his hand off the table. He did not go away. He stood at the kitchen table with his hand on it, and he did not say anything, and Nissa stood in the doorway with her hand on the frame, and the door stood open, and the marsh was behind them both. ---