Heroes and Villains by Angela Carter Page B

from the house. A brown, naked child, sodden from the river, bounced up into Jewel’s arms and he hugged her. She wondered if this could be his own daughter for he kissed her with the greatest affection and laughed. The ground was marshy and gave beneath Marianne’s feet.
    Some of the people glanced back at her and made vague, fluttering, protective gestures. The sun was shining but she felt very cold. A little boy about four years old made a sudden dart at her and ripped a strip off her skirt before she could stop him. He retreated a few yards, squatted down and chewed at the relic as if expecting some immediate magic effect from it while he shot her glances of be-wilderment and fright. But most of the tribe ignored her completely. They all began to wade back across the river and she was left alone, for Jewel appearedto have quite forgotten her since he was so glad to be home.
    The middle-aged woman she had seen on the road came from the house. She was enveloped in a large apron of astonishing whiteness and her sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms of great strength and size. She ran along the terrace and down the crumbling steps with the flapping, ungainly run of a fat woman; although Marianne was so far away from her, she could see the woman’s grey hair uncoiling from the bun on top of her head. The people parted to let her through and she hugged Jewel harder than any of them. Then she looked across the river and Marianne saw the clean woman’s forefinger pointing at her. Jewel at once turned and hurried back.
    ‘You forgot me,’ she said, accusingly.
    ‘I was overcome,’ he replied. ‘It’s not every day you rise from the dead. Can you still walk?’
    But she found it very difficult to start walking again once she had stopped. He carried her over the river and set her down in front of the clean woman, whose name was Mrs Green. She was his foster-mother. She had a broad, doughy face covered with freckles. She kissed Marianne; she smelled of baking.
    ‘Don’t be scared,’ she said. ‘He’s not a bad boy at heart; none of them are bad boys, in spite of appearances.’
    The little girl clambered up Jewel’s trunk as simply as if it were that of a tree and sat on his shoulders, pulling his hair. He slapped her. Marianne was now so dizzy the brown faces danced around her like dead leaves. When the Barbarians saw Mrs Green had not turned to stone as a result of her kiss, they clustered round Marianne with a braver curiosity and she felt moist, exploring hands on her arms, legs and bare neck and somebody tugging at the crude bandage on her leg.
    ‘Leave her alone,’ said Jewel. ‘The snake bit her but she didn’t die.’
    He gave them this information contemptuously but they hushed and drew away from her. The crowd now began gradually to melt away, going back to former occupations such as tanning hide, sharpening knives and making pots, while Jewel, his foster-mother, his half-brother and Mrs Green’s grandchild, the little girl, went towards the house.
    ‘And Joseph,’ said Jewel. ‘How is Joseph?’
    ‘Blue all over,’ said Precious. ‘It’s no joke, I can tell you.’
    ‘Dead by night, I reckon,’ said Mrs Green. ‘Oh, my poor boy. And such pain and Donally won’t leave him alone nor ease him, either.’
    ‘And him only twenty-two years old,’ said Jewel. ‘The first of us to go.’
    Mrs Green put her hand confidentially on Jewel’s arm and her voice sank to a whisper.
    ‘Jewel, my love, ease him.’
    ‘I won’t kill him!’ he said.
    Marianne stumbled and cried out. They ignored her.
    ‘You mean I should put him out of his misery like a horse with a broken leg, ease him with death, is it? With a knife, or a gun, which would be best, do you think?’
    ‘It’s a brother’s duty,’ said Mrs Green sententiously. ‘You don’t need to lose your temper, do you. I’d do it myself, but it’s no job for a woman and, besides, Donally won’t let me into the room.’
    Jewel changed