The Dante Club Page 0,63

speaks to in Hell, Nicholas the Third, my dear Holmes."

Dr. Holmes was ready to leave. The thick air was nourishing a revolt in his lungs, and his misspoken words had broken his own heart.

Longfellow, however, directed the halo of his gas lantern above the hole, which had been left undisturbed. He was not through. "We must dig deeper, below what we can see of the hole. The police would never think of it."

Holmes stared incredulously at him. "Nor would I! Talbot was put in the hole, not below it, my dear Longfellow!"

Longfellow said, "Recall what Dante says to Nicholas as the sinner thrashes around in the wretched hole of his punishment."

Holmes whispered some verses to himself." 'Stay here, for thou art justly punished... and keep safe guard over your ill-gotten loot - ' " He stopped short. "Keep safe guard over your loot. But isn't Dante just displaying some of his not uncommon sarcasm, taunting the poor sinner for his money-grubbing actions in life?"

"Indeed, that is how I happen to read the line," said Longfellow. "But Dante might be read to mean the statement literally. It could be argued that Dante's phrase actually reveals that part of the contrapasso of the Simoniacs is that they are buried upside down with the money they immorally accumulated in life below their heads. Surely Dante could have been thinking of Peter Magus's words to Simon in Acts: 'May thy money go to destruction with thee.' In this interpretation, the hole which holds Dante's sinner becomes his eternal purse."

Holmes offered a medley of guttural sounds at the interpretation.

"If we dig," said Longfellow with a slight smile, "your doubts might be proven unnecessary." He extended his walking stick to reach the bottom of the hole, but the pit was too deep. "I cannot fit, I suppose." Longfellow gauged the size of the hole. Then he looked at the little doctor, who was wriggling with asthma.

Holmes stood stock-still. "Oh but, Longfellow..." He looked down the hole. "Why did nature not ask me my advice about my features?" There was no point in arguing. Longfellow could not be argued with properly; he was too invincibly tranquil. If Lowell were here, he would have been digging in the hole like a rabbit.

"Ten to one I crack a fingernail."

Longfellow nodded appreciatively. The doctor pinched his eyes closed and slid feet first down the hole. "It is too narrow. I cannot bend down. I do not think I can squeeze myself in to dig."

Longfellow helped Holmes climb out of the hole. The doctor reentered the narrow opening, this time headfirst, with Longfellow holding on to his gray trousers at the ankles. The poet had the easy grasp of a puppet master.

"Careful, Longfellow! Careful!"

"You can see well enough?" asked Longfellow.

Holmes barely heard him. He raked at the earth with his hands, the moist dirt rising under his fingernails, at once sickeningly warm and cold and hard as ice. The worst was the odor, the festering stench of burning flesh that had been preserved in the tight abyss. Holmes tried holding his breath, but this tactic, coupled with his heaving asthma, made his head feel light, as if it might drift off like a balloon.

He was where the Reverend Talbot had been; upside down, like him. But instead of punishing fire at his feet he felt the unflinching hands of Mr. Longfellow.

Longfellow's muffled voice floated down, a concerned question. The doctor could not hear inside his vague sensation of faintness and wondered idly whether a loss of consciousness would cause Longfellow to release his ankles and if he, in the meantime, might send himself tumbling through the core of the earth. He suddenly felt the danger they had put themselves in by trying to fight a book. The floating pageant of thoughts seemed to go on endlessly before the doctor hit something with his hands.

With the feel of a material object, hard clarity returned. A piece of clothing of some sort. No: a bag. A glazed cloth bag.

Holmes shuddered. He tried to speak, but the stench and the dirt were terrible obstacles. For a moment he was frozen in panic, then sanity returned and he kicked his legs frantically.

Longfellow, understanding this was a signal, lifted his friend's body from the cavity. Holmes gasped for air, spitting and sputtering as Longfellow tended to him solicitously.

Holmes wriggled to his knees. "See what it is, for God's sake, Longfellow!" Holmes pulled the drawstring wrapped around the discovery and tore open the dirt-encrusted pouch.

Longfellow watched as