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‘Christ and His holy blood forbid it should come to that,’ the poor fool replied. ‘Although I say it myself, I don’t have a big mouth. I am not about to gab to man or wife. Or child. You have my word on that.’
‘Very good, John.’ Nicholas sat closer to him, and put his mouth to the carpenter’s ear. ‘This is it. I am not going to lie to you. I have been studying my books very carefully. You might say that I have drunk deep of their wisdom. And I have been observing the moon. This is what I have discovered. Next Monday, about nine o’clock at night, there is going to be torrential rain. It will be wild, incessant and prolonged. It will be more powerful than the Flood. In less than an hour the whole world will be drowned. All human life will be destroyed.’
‘Oh God!’ exclaimed the carpenter. ‘What about Alison? What about my wife? Will she be drowned, too?’ He was prostrate with sorrow. He looked as if he were about to faint. ‘Is there no solution? No escape?’
‘Why, yes there is. God is above us. You must follow my instructions to the letter. Don’t start pla
‘Yes. Many years ago.’
‘When you heard it or when it happened?’
‘When I heard it.’
‘So you must also have heard of the trouble of Noah and his family, trying to get his wife to go on board the ark. He would have given up all the animals, from aardvark to zebra, to dispatch her on a ship of her own. So now what are we going to do? Speed is necessary. This is no time for making speeches. We ca
‘What about young Robin? And Jill, our maid?’
‘I am afraid that they ca
‘I must just warn you of one thing. On the night of the tempest, when we are safely ensconced in our tubs, we must not speak or say one word. We must stay in silent prayer. That is God’s will. You and your wife must hang some way apart, too, so that you won’t be tempted to sin with her in look, in speech or in deed. That is also God’s command. Do you understand? Tomorrow night, when the rest of the world is asleep, we will creep into our tubs. Our boats. We will sit there and wait for the grace of God. That’s it. You had better get moving. I don’t have time for any more words. There is an old saying: “Spare the words and fare the wiser.” You are wise enough already, I am sure, and don’t need to hear from me. Go and save us. That is my last request.’
So the i
What a powerful agent is emotion! It is well said that men may die of imagination, if it forcibly impresses the mind. So the foolish old man begins to tremble; he begins to shake. He sees in front of him the waves and the turbulent sea; he sees Noah’s Flood come again; he sees the corpse of Alison tossed up and down. He weeps and wails, he sobs and sighs, he blubs and bawls. Then he calms down and goes out of doors to buy the three big tubs that Nicholas demanded; he has them secretly delivered, and suspended from the rafters of the ceiling. Then with his own hands he builds three ladders, by which they can climb up to safety. He is a carpenter, after all. Then he stores provisions in the tubs, namely bread and cheese and jugs of good ale just enough to last them for the one day. Before he made his preparations, however, he made sure that Jill and Robin were far away. He sent them off to London on some excuse or other. Then on the Monday evening, a few hours before the time Nicholas predicted the flood, he snuffed out the candlelight and shut the door. In perfect silence the three of them climbed the ladders and settled down in the tubs, each one apart from the other. They were silent for a few minutes, until Nicholas whispered, ‘We should say the Lord’s Prayer. And then keep quiet.’ ‘Mum,’ said John. ‘Mum,’ said Alison.
So the carpenter muttered his devotions and then stayed as still as any stone. He was listening for the onset of the rain. But he was so weary, with all the work and worry of the day, that at dusk he fell sound asleep. He was groaning and snoring. It was not a very comfortable berth. But the sound was delightful to Nicholas and Alison. Both of them softly crept down their ladders and, in silence and haste, they went off to bed. There were other noises now coming from the carpenter’s bedroom; there were squeals and sighs of pleasure. There were pantings and groanings. Nicholas and Alison kept at it all night. In fact they fucked until daylight, when the bells for lauds began to ring and the friars gathered in the choir. The pair could hear them singing.
Now. Do you remember Absolon, the love-struck parish clerk? On that Monday he was paying a visit to Osney Abbey, in the company of some other young clerics in festive mood. Quite by chance he came across the resident chorister there, and started to ask him about the old carpenter. He was always interested in that household. They were walking out of the church, when the chorister said to him, ‘I really don’t know what has happened to him. I haven’t seen him here since last Saturday. I imagine he has gone for timber somewhere. The abbot probably sent him. He often spends a day or two on one of the outlying farms, bargaining for the wood. Or else he is back at home. To tell you the truth, I don’t really know. Why do you ask?’
‘No reason. Just curious.’ Absolon was delighted. ‘Now is the time,’ he said to himself, ‘when I must stay awake all night. I don’t think he’s at home at all. I did not see him stirring this morning. And the door was closed. Just before dawn I will creep up to the house and knock softly upon the low window of his bedroom beside the orchard wall. Then I will whisper sweet love nothings to darling Alison; the least I will be offered is a kiss. My lips have been itching all day, which is a good sign. And last night I dreamed that I was at a feast. What can that mean but satisfaction? I will have a nap now, and then get myself ready for the game of the night.’