stink?” McGee asked. I didn't answer. I was afraid McGee was going to get us in trouble. We went on a few more steps and men I got the stink. It was something! It was like the stink of a horse that's been dead two weeks. It made my nostrils close up. It killed the smell of the incense. I said “Whew!” and got a few dirty looks myself. McGee laughed.
Now we were quite close to the coffin. It was set on a gold and marble table that was about three feet above the floor. The coffin was made of bronze and had leaves engraved all over it. It had a glass top. The table was bigger than the coffin and some of the flowers had fallen on it from the foot of the coffin. About ten dozen candles put a queer light over everything. I heard the woman in front begin to pant. She was looking down through the glass. “Keep moving, please.”
I jumped, almost knocking over the man behind me. An Elder in a white robe was standing across from the coffin. He said again: “Keep moving, folks.” He had a deep voice. I tried to see him, but his face was in a shadow. I began to feel spooked.
McGee had reached the head of the coffin. He looked inside, bending down until his nose was close to the glass, and then straightened up, nodding as though everything was all right. I don't know what he'd thought he might see. He walked on, and I was next. I held my breath and peered into the coffin.
Solomon lay on red velvet, face up, blue-grey eyes staring up at me. The open eyes gave me a start. He had on a black robe and on one of his fingers was the biggest diamond I'd ever seen. He didn't look dead at all, except that his face was the colour of wax. The skin made a contrast with his inky black hair. He was a tall man, about six foot six, and he was thin. His face had hollows under the eyes and in the cheeks. He looked nasty and cruel. I could see one tooth back of the blue-white lips. “Keep moving, please,” said the Elder.
I followed McGee out a side door. The sunlight hurt my eyes. I kept smelling the queer odour of incense and flowers and decay around the coffin. It was good to breathe in the fresh air again.
“Well,” McGee asked; “what'd you think of it?”
“It's something I won't forget quick.”
We went down the stairs. “Take a look around?” McGee asked.
“Sure.”
We walked towards the largest of the brick buildings. McGee said that was the administration building. He pointed out the women's building.
“That's where I saw the Grayson girl,” I said.
Another of the buildings, McGee said, was for men. The last one was the nursery. It was only two stories high, but it was big.
“Where do the children come from?” I asked.
He led me towards the nursery. “Some of the women bring 'em,” he said. “And some have 'em while they're here.”
“I thought this was a religious colony. How do they arrange it?”
There were people walking around the grounds. McGee waited until a man and two women had passed by us.
“Have you ever heard of the Walpurgis Night?”
“No,” I said.
“Well, that was a night when all the men and women went out into the woods. They stayed all night, drinking and making love and dancing. It didn't matter who you stayed with, it was all part of the ceremony.”
“And they have those here?”
He nodded. “Twice a year. One of them is the Ceremony of the Bride. Another is the Wine Festival. That, I have been told, is the wildest.”
“Why don't they stop them? Don't they have to register the babies?”
“That's where they're smart. After a woman is initiated into the order, they make her marry one of the men. Then any babies are legitimate, though often the woman never even sees her husband.”
“Well, my God!” I said.
I wondered how much McGee really knew. I couldn't tell. He talked as though he knew all about the Vineyard. Maybe he did.
I said: “What is this Ceremony of the Bride?” McGee looked at me. “You've heard of it?”
“The Grayson gal is to be the bride.” McGee's lantern jaw came open. “Who told you?”
“She did.”
“That's terrible!” I began to get alarmed. “Why?”
He shook his head mournfully. He went over to a bench and sat down. He looked sick.
“What happens to the bride? What's the ceremony?”
“There is a festival one night. And the next night she spends in Solomon's mausoleum.”
“The hell!”
“She's supposed to be Solomon's bride.”
“And then what?”
“She holds a special place in the Vineyard. She doesn't have to work any more.”
“How many Brides are there?” McGee looked queer. “None.”
