I Capture the Castle

by Dodie Smith

He began to walk about, talking more to himself than to me. “I believe I could make a start now if I could get a scaffolding that really satisfied me. I need a backbone —” “Was that why you took the haddock’s?” I said involuntarily. He turned on me at once. “Don’t be facetious!” Then I think he saw from my face that I hadn’t meant to be, because he gave a snort of laughter and went on: “No, the haddock may be said to have turned into a red herring across the trail — lots of things do. I don’t know, though — the ladderlike pattern was interesting. I must study the fishes of the world — and whales — and the forerunners of whales ——” He was talking to himself again, moving about the room. I kept dead quiet. He went on, “Primeval, antediluvian — the ark? No, not the Bible again. Prehistoric — from the smallest bone of the mammoth? Is there a way there?” He hurried to his desk and made a note; then sat there, still talking to himself. I could only make out broken phrases and disjointed words — things like: “Design, deduction, reconstruction — symbol — pattern and problem — search for ever unfolding — enigma eternal…” His voice got quieter and quieter until at last he was silent.