That Hideous Strength

by C. S. Lewis

  ‘No Ma’am, thank you. But you did say, Ma’am, you’d meet Captain O’Hara at one sharp.’

  ‘Captain O’Hara?’ said Miss Hardcastle dreamily at first, and then louder, like one waking from a dream. Next moment she had jumped up and was putting on her tunic. ‘Bless the girl!’ she said. ‘What a pair of blockheads you are! Why didn’t you remind me before?’

  ‘Well, Ma’am, I didn’t exactly like to.’

  ‘Like to! What do you think you’re there for?’

  ‘You don’t like us to interrupt, Ma’am, sometimes, when you’re examining,’ said the girl sulkily.

  ‘Don’t argue!’ shouted Miss Hardcastle, wheeling round and hitting her cheek a resounding blow with the palm of her hand. ‘Look sharp. Get the prisoner into the car. Don’t wait to button up her dress, idiots. I’ll be after you the moment I’ve dipped my face in cold water.’

  A few seconds later, pinioned between Daisy and Kitty, but still close to Miss Hardcastle (there seemed to be room for five in the back of the car), Jane found herself gliding through the darkness. ‘Better go through the town as little as possible, Joe,’ said Miss Hardcastle’s voice. ‘It’ll be pretty lively by now. Go on to the Asylum and work down those little streets at the back of the close.’ There seemed to be all sorts of strange noises and lights about. At places, too, there seemed to be a great many people. Then there came a moment when Jane found that the car had drawn up. ‘What the hell are you stopping for?’ said Miss Hardcastle. For a second or two there was no answer from the driver except grunts and the noise of unsuccessful attempts to start up the engine. ‘What’s the matter?’ repeated Miss Hardcastle sharply. ‘Don’t know, Ma’am,’ said the driver, still working away. ‘God!’ said Miss Hardcastle. ‘Can’t you even look after a car? Some of you people want a little humane remedial treatment yourselves.’ The street in which they were was empty but, to judge by the noise, it was near some other street which was very full and very angry. The man got out, swearing under his breath, and opened the bonnet of the car. ‘Here,’ said Miss Hardcastle. ‘You two hop out. Look round for another car–anywhere within five minutes’ walk–commandeer it. If you don’t find one, be back here in ten minutes whatever happens. Sharp.’ The two other policemen alighted, and disappeared at the double. Miss Hardcastle continued pouring abuse on the driver and the driver continued working at the engine. The noise grew louder. Suddenly the driver straightened himself and turned his face (Jane saw the sweat shining on it in the lamplight) towards Miss Hardcastle. ‘Look here, Miss,’ he said, ‘that’s about enough, see? You keep a civil tongue in your head, or else come and mend the bloody car yourself if you’re so bloody clever.’ ‘Don’t you try taking that line with me, Joe,’ said Miss Hardcastle, ‘or you’ll find me saying a little word about you to the ordinary police.’ ‘Well, suppose you do?’ said Joe, ‘I’m beginning to think I might as well be in clink as in your bucking tea-party. ’Struth! I’ve been in the military police and I’ve been in the Black and Tans and I’ve been in the BUF, but they were all ruddy picnics to this lot. A man got some decent treatment there. And he had men over him, not a bloody lot of old women.’ ‘Yes, Joe,’ said Miss Hardcastle, ‘but it wouldn’t be clink for you this time if I passed the word to the ordinary cops.’

  ‘Oh, it wouldn’t, wouldn’t it? I might have a story or two to tell about yourself if it came to that.’

  ‘For the lord’s sake, speak to him nicely, Ma’am,’ wailed Kitty. ‘They’re coming. We’ll catch it proper.’ And in fact men running, by twos and threes, had begun to trickle into the street.

  ‘Foot it, girls,’ said Miss Hardcastle. ‘Sharp’s the word. This way.’

  Jane found herself hustled out of the car and hurried along between Daisy and Kitty. Miss Hardcastle moved in front. The little party darted across the street and up an alley on the far side.

  ‘Any of you know the way here?’ asked Miss Hardcastle when they had walked a few steps.

  ‘Don’t know, I’m sure, Ma’am,’ said Daisy.

  ‘I’m a stranger here myself, Ma’am,’ said Kitty.

  ‘Nice useful lot I’ve got,’ said Miss Hardcastle. ‘Is there anything you do know?’

  ‘It doesn’t seem to go no further, Ma’am,’ said Kitty.

  The alley had indeed turned out to be a dead end. Miss Hardcastle stood still for a moment. Unlike her subordinates, she did not seem to be frightened, but only pleasantly excited, and rather amused at the white faces and shaky voices of the girls.

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘this is what I call a night out. You’re seeing life, Daisy, aren’t you? I wonder are any of these houses empty? All locked anyway. Perhaps we’d best stay where we are.’

  The shouting in the street they had left had grown louder and they could see a confused mass of humanity surging vaguely in a westward direction. Suddenly it became much louder still and angrier.

  ‘They’ve caught Joe,’ said Miss Hardcastle. ‘If he can make himself heard he’ll send them up here. Blast! This means losing the prisoner. Stop blubbering Daisy, you little fool. Quick. We must go down into the crowd separately. We’ve a very good chance of getting through. Keep your heads. Don’t shoot, whatever you do. Try to get to Billingham at the crossroads. Ta-ta, Babs! The quieter you keep the less likely we are to meet again.’

  Miss Hardcastle set off at once. Jane saw her stand for a few seconds on the fringes of the crowd and then disappear into it. The two girls hesitated and then followed. Jane sat down on a doorstep. The burns were painful where her dress had rubbed against them, but what chiefly troubled her was extreme weariness. She was also deadly cold and a little sick. But above all tired; so tired she could drop asleep almost…

  She shook herself. There was complete silence all about her: she was colder than she had ever been before and her limbs ached. ‘I believe I have been asleep,’ she thought. She rose, stretched herself, and walked down the desolate lamplit alley into the larger street. It was quite empty except for one man in a railway uniform who said, ‘Good morning, Miss,’ as he walked smartly past. She stood for a moment, undecided and then began to walk slowly to her right. She put her hand in the pocket of the coat which Daisy and Kitty had flung round her before leaving the flat and found three quarters of a large slab of chocolate. She was ravenous and began munching it. Just as she finished she was overtaken by a car which drew up shortly after it had passed her. ‘Are you all right?’ said a man, poking his head out.

  ‘Were you hurt in the riot?’ said a woman’s voice from within.

  ‘No…not much…I don’t know,’ said Jane stupidly.

  The man stared at her and then got out. ‘I say,’ he said, ‘you don’t look too good. Are you sure you’re quite well?’ Then he turned and spoke to the woman inside. It seemed so long to Jane since she had heard kind, or even sane, voices that she felt like crying. The unknown couple made her sit in the car and gave her brandy and after that sandwiches. Finally they asked if they could give her a lift home. Where was home? And Jane, somewhat to her surprise, heard her own voice very sleepily answering, ‘The Manor, at St Anne’s.’ ‘That’s fine,’ said the man, ‘we’re making for Birmingham and we have to pass it.’ Then Jane fell asleep at once again, and awoke only to find herself entering a lighted doorway and being received by a woman in pyjamas and an overcoat who turned out to be Mrs Maggs. But she was too tired to remember how or where she got to bed.

  8

  Moonlight at Belbury

  ‘I am the last person, Miss Hardcastle,’ said the Deputy Director, ‘to wish to interfere with your–er–private pleasures. But really…!’ It was some hours before breakfast time and the old gentleman was fully dressed and unshaved. But if he had been up all night, it was odd that he had let his fire out. He and the Fairy were standing by a cold and blackened grate in his study.

  ‘She can’t be far away,’ said Fairy Hardcastle. ‘We’ll pick her up some other time. It was well worth trying. If I’d got out of her where she’d been–a
nd I should have got it if I’d had a few minutes longer–why, it might have turned out to be enemy headquarters. We might have rounded up the whole gang.’

  ‘It was hardly a suitable occasion…’ began Wither, but she interrupted him.

  ‘We haven’t so much time to waste, you know. You tell me Frost is already complaining that the woman’s mind is less accessible. And according to your own metapsychology, or whatever you call the damned jargon, that means she’s falling under the influence of the other side. You told me that yourself! Where’ll we be if you lose touch with her mind before I’ve got her body locked up here?’

  ‘I am always, of course,’ said Wither, ‘most ready and–er–interested to hear expressions of your own opinions and would not for a moment deny that they are (in certain respects, of course, if not in all) of a very real value. On the other hand, there are matters on which your–ah–necessarily specialised experience does not entirely qualify you…An arrest was not contemplated at this stage. The Head will, I fear, take the view that you have exceeded your authority. Trespassed beyond your proper sphere, Miss Hardcastle. I do not say that I necessarily agree with him. But we must all agree that unauthorised action–’

  ‘Oh, cut it out, Wither!’ said the Fairy, seating herself on the side of the table. ‘Try that game on the Steeles and Stones. I know too much about it. It’s no bloody good trying the elasticity stunt on me. It was a golden opportunity, running into that girl. If I hadn’t taken it, you’d have talked about lack of initiative; as I did, you talk about exceeding my authority. You can’t frighten me. I know bloody well we’re all for it if the NICE fails; and in the meantime, I’d like to see you do without me. We’ve got to get the girl, haven’t we?’

  ‘But not by an arrest. We have always deprecated anything like violence. If a mere arrest could have secured the–er–good will and collaboration of Mrs Studdock, we should hardly have embarrassed ourselves with the presence of her husband. And even supposing (merely, of course, for the purpose of argument) that your action in arresting her could be justified, I am afraid your conduct of the affair after that is open to serious criticism.’

  ‘I couldn’t tell that the bucking car was going to break down, could I?’

  ‘I do not think,’ said Wither, ‘the Head could be induced to regard that as the only miscarriage. Once the slightest resistance on this woman’s part developed, it was not, in my opinion, reasonable to expect success by the method you employed. As you are aware, I always deplore anything that is not perfectly humane; but that is quite consistent with the position that if more drastic expedients have to be used then they must be used thoroughly. Moderate pain, such as any ordinary degree of endurance can resist, is always a mistake. It is no true kindness to the prisoner. The more scientific and, may I add, more civilised facilities for coercive examination which we have placed at your disposal here, might have been successful. I am not speaking officially, Miss Hardcastle, and I would not in any sense attempt to anticipate the reactions of our Head. But I should not be doing my duty if I failed to remind you that complaints from that quarter have already been made (though not, of course, minuted) as to your tendency to allow a certain–er–emotional excitement in the disciplinary or remedial side of your work to distract you from the demands of policy.’

  ‘You won’t find anyone can do a job like mine well unless they get some kick out of it,’ said the Fairy sulkily.

  The Deputy Director looked at his watch.

  ‘Anyway,’ said the Fairy, ‘what does the Head want to see me now for? I’ve been on my feet the whole bloody night. I might be allowed a bath and some breakfast.’

  ‘The path of duty, Miss Hardcastle,’ said Wither, ‘can never be an easy one. You will not forget that punctuality is one of the points on which emphasis has sometimes been laid.’

  Miss Hardcastle got up and rubbed her face with her hands. ‘Well, I must have something to drink before I go in,’ she said. Wither held out his hands in deprecation.

  ‘Come on, Wither. I must,’ said Miss Hardcastle. ‘You don’t think he’ll smell it?’ said Wither.

  ‘I’m not going in without it, anyway,’ said she.

  The old man unlocked his cupboard and gave her whiskey. Then the two left the study and went a long way, right over to the other side of the house where it joined onto the actual Blood Transfusion offices. It was all dark at this hour in the morning and they went by the light of Miss Hardcastle’s torch–on through carpeted and pictured passages into blank passages with rubberoid floors and distempered walls and then through a door they had to unlock, and then through another. All the way Miss Hardcastle’s booted feet made a noise but the slippered feet of the Deputy Director made no noise at all. At last they came to a place where the lights were on and there was a mixture of animal and chemical smells, and then to a door which was opened to them after they had parleyed through a speaking tube. Filostrato, wearing a white coat, confronted them in the doorway.

  ‘Enter,’ said Filostrato. ‘He expect you for some time.’ ‘Is it in a bad temper?’ said Miss Hardcastle.

  ‘Sh!’ said Wither. ‘And in any case, my dear lady, I don’t think that is quite the way in which one should speak of our Head. His sufferings–in his peculiar condition, you know–’

  ‘You are to go in at once,’ said Filostrato, ‘as soon as you have made yourselves ready.’

  ‘Stop. Half a moment,’ said Miss Hardcastle suddenly. ‘What is it? Be quick, please,’ said Filostrato.

  ‘I’m going to be sick.’

  ‘You cannot be sick here. Go back. I will give you some X54 at once.’

  ‘It’s all right now,’ said Miss Hardcastle. ‘It was only momentary. It’d take more than this to upset me.’

  ‘Silence, please,’ said the Italian. ‘Do not attempt to open the second door until my assistant has shut the first one behind you. Do not speak more than you can help. Do not even say yes when you are given an order. The Head will assume your obedience. Do not make sudden movements, do not get too close, do not shout, and above all do not argue. Now.’

  Long after sunrise there came into Jane’s sleeping mind a sensation which, had she put it into words, would have sung, ‘Be glad thou sleeper and thy sorrow offcast. I am the gate to all good adventure.’ And after she had wakened and found herself lying in pleasant languor with winter morning sunlight falling across her bed, the mood continued. ‘He must let me stay here now,’ she thought. Sometime after this Mrs Maggs came in and lit the fire and brought the breakfast. Jane winced as she sat up in bed for some of the burns had stuck to the strange night-dress (rather too large for her) in which she found herself clad. There was an indefinable difference in Mrs Maggs’ behaviour. ‘It’s ever so nice us both being here, isn’t it, Mrs Studdock?’ she said, and somehow the tone seemed to imply a closer relation than Jane had envisaged between them. But she was too lazy to wonder much about it. Shortly after breakfast came Miss Ironwood. She examined and dressed the burns, which were not serious. ‘You can get up in the afternoon if you like, Mrs Studdock,’ she said. ‘I should just take a quiet day till then. What would you like to read? There’s a pretty large library.’ ‘I’d like the Curdie books, please,’ said Jane, ‘and Mansfield Park and Shakespeare’s Sonnets.’ Having thus been provided with reading matter for several hours, she very comfortably went to sleep again.

  When Mrs Maggs looked in at about four o’clock to see if Jane was awake, Jane said she would like to get up. ‘All right, Mrs Studdock,’ said Mrs Maggs, ‘just as you like. I’ll bring you along a nice cup of tea in a minute and then I’ll get the bathroom ready for you. There’s a bathroom next door almost, only I’ll have to get that Mr Bultitude out of it. He’s that lazy and he will go in and sit there all day when it’s cold weather.’

  As soon as Mrs Maggs had gone, however, Jane decided to get up. She felt that her social abilities were quite equal to dealing with the eccentric Mr Bultitude and she did not want to waste any more time in bed. She had an
idea that if once she were ‘up and about’ all sorts of pleasant and interesting things might happen. Accordingly she put on her coat, took her towel, and proceeded to explore; and that was why Mrs Maggs, coming upstairs with tea a moment later, heard a suppressed shriek and saw Jane emerge from the bathroom with a white face and slam the door behind her.

  ‘Oh dear!’ said Mrs Maggs bursting into laughter. ‘I ought to have told you. Never mind. I’ll soon have him out of that.’ She set the tea tray down on the passage floor and turned to the bathroom.

  ‘Is it safe?’ asked Jane.

  ‘Oh yes, he’s safe all right,’ said Mrs Maggs. ‘But he’s not that easy to shift. Not for you or me, Mrs Studdock. Of course if it was Miss Ironwood or the Director it would be another matter.’ With that she opened the bathroom door. Inside, sitting up on its hunkers beside the bath and occupying most of the room was a great, snuffly, wheezy, beady-eyed, loose-skinned, gor-bellied brown bear, which, after a great many reproaches, appeals, exhortations, pushes and blows from Mrs Maggs, heaved up its enormous bulk and came very slowly out into the passage.

  ‘Why don’t you go out and take some exercise that lovely afternoon, you great lazy thing?’ said Mrs Maggs. ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself, sitting there getting in everyone’s way. Don’t be frightened, Mrs Studdock. He’s as tame as tame. He’ll let you stroke him. Go on, Mr Bultitude. Go and say how do you do to the lady!’

  Jane extended a hesitant and unconvincing hand to touch the animal’s back, but Mr Bultitude was sulking and without a glance at Jane continued his slow walk along the passage to a point about ten yards away where he quite suddenly sat down. The tea things rattled at Jane’s feet, and everyone on the floor below must have known that Mr Bultitude had sat down.

  ‘Is it really safe to have a creature like that loose about the house?’ said Jane.

  ‘Mrs Studdock,’ said Ivy Maggs with some solemnity, ‘if the Director wanted to have a tiger about the house it would be safe. That’s the way he has with animals. There isn’t a creature in the place that would go for another or for us once he’s had his little talk with them. Just the same as he does with us. You’ll see.’

  ‘If you would put the tea in my room…’ said Jane rather coldly and went into the bathroom. ‘Yes,’ said Mrs Maggs, standing in the open doorway, ‘you might have had your bath with Mr Bultitude sitting there beside you–though he’s that big and that human I don’t somehow feel it would be Nice myself.’

  Jane made to shut the door.

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,’ said Mrs Maggs without moving.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Jane.

  ‘Sure you got everything you want?’ said Mrs Maggs.

  ‘Quite sure,’ said Jane.

  ‘Well, I’ll be getting along, then,’ said Mrs Maggs, turning as if to go, but almost instantly turning back again to say, ‘you’ll find us in the kitchen, I expect, Mother Dimble and me and the rest.’

  ‘Is Mrs Dimble staying in the house?’ asked Jane with a slight emphasis on the Mrs.

  ‘Mother Dimble, we all call her here,’ said Mrs Maggs. ‘And I’m sure she won’t mind you doing the same. You’ll get used to our ways in a day or two, I’m sure. It’s a funny house really, when you come to think of it. Well. I’ll be getting along then. Don’t take too long or your tea won’t be worth drinking. But I daresay you’d better not have a bath, not with those nasty places on your chest. Got all you want?’

  When Jane had washed and had tea and dressed herself with as much care as strange hairbrushes and a strange mirror allowed, she set out to look for the inhabited rooms. She passed down one long passage, through that silence which is not quite like any other in the world–the silence upstairs, in a big house, on a winter afternoon. Presently, she came to a place where two passages met, and here the silence was broken by a faint irregular noise–pob-pob-pob-pob. Looking to her right she saw the explanation, for where the passage ended in a bay window stood Mr Bultitude, this time on his hind legs, meditatively boxing a punch-ball. Jane chose the way to her left and came to a gallery whence she looked down the staircase into a large hall where daylight mixed with firelight.