Savage Tales

you, madam, but if it is not then I will have no choice but to deliver it to the government. They would only be too glad to begin a full investigation of your husband and his affairs."
    "Save your rhetoric. Your price! What is your price?"
    "Madam, the government has offered me money. I turn first to you, however, because I want something here that money will not deliver."
    "Such as? If you seek position then you are mistaken. That is my husband's affair. I could not offer you position without alerting him to your knowledge, and he would not allow you to leave this place alive if he knew what it is you have heard."
    "It is not position. Your husband will not be involved. You have all I am after."
    "And that is?"
    "What only a woman may give."
    "I do not understand you. Speak plainly."
    "I wish you to give yourself to me, madam. Your body."
    "Sir! You take great liberties!"
    "I am a desperate man. I need that money, but I came to you because of your consideration and kindness and patronage in the past. But money is what I need, and the only thing keeping me from the government's charity is my desire for you, madam."
    "Never! I am a married woman."
    "Please, madam. Even we in the village know of your dalliances."
    "What? You shall pay for that remark."
    "Madam."
    "Rogue!"
    "Madam, you may stop this farce. We both know. Let us continue with our negotiations, yes?"
    "It is ridiculous. It shall never happen."
    "That is your final answer? Then we have nothing to discuss, I suppose. Farewell."
    "Wait. Will you not take money? I can not fulfill your gross request, but I can offer you money. A fair reward to keep you at bay."
    "Money is better elsewhere. Your money carries a price – that your husband will discover my knowledge and your treachery and punish us both. That is too high a price for money. For your fulfillment of my pleasure, however... that I am willing to risk."
    "I see."
    She considered my request for some time, bidding me to stay, which I did. Finally she said, "Sir, very well. You shall have me once."
    "That is fair, madam."
    "Will now suit the purpose? My husband shall not return for several hours."
    "Now is perfect."
    "Good. You must recognize though that some caution is required in this matter. Though my husband is away, the servants are about, and they must not know what takes place between us."
    "Of course. I am the soul of discretion."
    "Yes, you have shown that much by coming here today. But the walls have eyes and ears."
    "What do you suggest?"
    "There is a cellar below the house. I have used it before. You will meet me there."
    She drew a small map and gave it to me.
    "Go now and wait," she said.
    "Very well. I shall be waiting."
    I followed this map of hers and descended the stairs and passed through a kitchen and a large pantry, until I came to a door she spoke of. I unbolted the door and it swung heavily as I pushed it aside. It was dark below, and the darkness did not appeal to me. I found a candle and lit it, and took it down with me, gently closing the door behind me.
    There I waited for a time that seemed interminable. My lust grew with each passing second, and I envisioned all that I would do to penetrate this saucy woman.
    Finally I heard sounds from above. I looked at the door, waiting for her perfect hourglass shape to descend and fall into my arms.
    The door remained closed. I heard the metal bolt of the door. And then silence.
    I ran to the door and pushed it, pulled it, rammed it, kicked it. But there was no use – it was locked.
    I screamed. I waited. I screamed some more. No sounds could be heard but my echo.

    After several months had passed I gave Francois the key to the cellar and told him to clean it out, that it had a foul smell the last time I had been down there.
    He returned after descending and expressed confusion. He said that he smelled nothing odd, and that he found nothing unusual down there. He said that it was only slightly dusty, as was to be expected.
    I thought that he had only done a cursory inspection and I cursed him silently. I pushed past him and went down to take a look myself. I had no desire to see that filthy little perfumist, but knew he could not have survived the gap of time I had encased him in.
    I descended with a candle in hand, looking in all directions. There was indeed no smell as I had expected. I explored every corner and found no carcass or evidence of that foul inhabitant. I felt only a breeze that chilled me, and attributed it to my reopening