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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/10418-0.txt b/10418-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..773f00d --- /dev/null +++ b/10418-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8205 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10418 *** + +THE MONEY MOON + + +A Romance + +By + +JEFFERY FARNOL + +Author of "The Broad Highway," etc. + +Frontispiece by A.I. KELLER + + +1911 + + + + +To "JENNIFER" + +The One and Only + +Whose unswerving FAITH was an Inspiration +Whose GENEROSITY is a bye-word; +This book is dedicated as a mark of GRATITUDE and AFFECTION + +Jeffery Farnol Feb. 10, 1910 + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + + I WHICH, BEING THE FIRST, IS, VERY PROPERLY, THE SHORTEST CHAPTER IN + THE BOOK + + II HOW GEORGE BELLEW SOUGHT COUNSEL OF HIS VALET + + III WHICH CONCERNS ITSELF WITH A HAYCART, AND A BELLIGERENT WAGGONER + + IV HOW SMALL PORGES IN LOOKING FOR A FORTUNE FOR ANOTHER, FOUND AN + UNCLE FOR HIMSELF INSTEAD + + V HOW BELLEW CAME TO ARCADIA + + VI OF THE SAD CONDITION OF THE HAUNTING SPECTRE OF THE MIGHT HAVE BEEN + + VII WHICH CONCERNS ITSELF AMONG OTHER MATTERS, WITH "THE OLD ADAM" + + VIII WHICH TELLS OF MISS PRISCILLA, OF PEACHES, AND OF SERGEANT APPLEBY + LATE OF THE 19TH HUSSARS + + IX IN WHICH MAY BE FOUND SOME DESCRIPTION OF ARCADIA, AND GOOSEBERRIES + + X HOW BELLEW AND ADAM ENTERED INTO A SOLEMN LEAGUE AND COVENANT + + XI OF THE "MAN WITH THE TIGER MARK" + + XII IN WHICH MAY BE FOUND A FULL, TRUE, AND PARTICULAR ACCOUNT OF THE + SALE + + XIII HOW ANTHEA CAME HOME + + XIV WHICH, AMONG OTHER THINGS, HAS TO DO WITH SHRIMPS, MUFFINS, AND TIN + WHISTLES + + XV IN WHICH ADAM EXPLAINS + + XVI IN WHICH ADAM PROPOSES A GAME + + XVII HOW BELLEW BEGAN THE GAME + + XVIII HOW THE SERGEANT WENT UPON HIS GUARD + + XIX IN WHICH PORGES BIG, AND PORGES SMALL DISCUSS THE SUBJECT OF + MATRIMONY + + XX WHICH RELATES A MOST EXTRAORDINARY CONVERSATION + + XXI OF SHOES, AND SHIPS, AND SEALING WAX, AND THE THIRD FINGER OF THE + LEFT HAND + + XXII COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE + + XXIII HOW SMALL PORGES, IN HIS HOUR OF NEED, WAS DESERTED BY HIS UNCLE + + XXIV IN WHICH SHALL BE FOUND MENTION OF A CERTAIN BLACK BAG + + XXV THE CONSPIRATORS + + XXVI HOW THE MONEY MOON ROSE + + XXVII IN WHICH IS VERIFIED THE ADAGE OF THE CUP AND THE LIP + +XXVIII WHICH TELLS HOW BELLEW LEFT DAPPLEMERE IN THE DAWN + + XXIX OF THE MOON'S MESSAGE TO SMALL PORGES, AND HOW HE TOLD IT TO + BELLEW--IN A WHISPER + + XXX HOW ANTHEA GAVE HER PROMISE + + XXXI WHICH, BEING THE LAST, IS, VERY PROPERLY, THE LONGEST, IN THE BOOK + + + + +CHAPTER I + +_Which, being the first, is, very properly, the shortest chapter in the +book_ + +When Sylvia Marchmont went to Europe, George Bellew being, at the same +time, desirous of testing his newest acquired yacht, followed her, and +mutual friends in New York, Newport, and elsewhere, confidently awaited +news of their engagement. Great, therefore, was their surprise when they +learnt of her approaching marriage to the Duke of Ryde. + +Bellew, being young and rich, had many friends, very naturally, who, +while they sympathized with his loss, yet agreed among themselves, that, +despite Bellew's millions, Sylvia had done vastly well for herself, +seeing that a duke is always a duke,--especially in America. + +There were, also, divers ladies in New York, Newport, and elsewhere, and +celebrated for their palatial homes, their jewels, and their daughters, +who were anxious to know how Bellew would comport himself under his +disappointment. Some leaned to the idea that he would immediately blow +his brains out; others opined that he would promptly set off on another +of his exploring expeditions, and get himself torn to pieces by lions +and tigers, or devoured by alligators; while others again feared greatly +that, in a fit of pique, he would marry some "young person" unknown, and +therefore, of course, utterly unworthy. + +How far these worthy ladies were right, or wrong in their surmises, they +who take the trouble to turn the following pages, shall find out. + + + +CHAPTER II + +_How George Bellew sought counsel of his Valet_ + +The first intimation Bellew received of the futility of his hopes was +the following letter which he received one morning as he sat at +breakfast in his chambers in St. James Street, W. + +MY DEAR GEORGE--I am writing to tell you that I like you so much that I +am quite sure I could never marry you, it would be too ridiculous. +Liking, you see George, is not love, is it? Though, personally, I think +all that sort of thing went out of fashion with our great-grandmother's +hoops, and crinolines. So George, I have decided to marry the Duke of +Ryde. The ceremony will take place in three weeks time at St. George's, +Hanover Square, and everyone will be there, of course. If you care to +come too, so much the better. I won't say that I hope you will forget +me, because I don't; but I am sure you will find someone to console you +because you are such a dear, good fellow, and so ridiculously rich. + +So good-bye, and best wishes, + +Ever yours most sincerely, + +SYLVIA. + +Now under such circumstances, had Bellew sought oblivion and consolation +from bottles, or gone headlong to the devil in any of other numerous +ways that are more or less inviting, deluded people would have pitied +him, and shaken grave heads over him; for it seems that disappointment +(more especially in love) may condone many offences, and cover as many +sins as Charity. + +But Bellew, knowing nothing of that latter-day hysteria which wears the +disguise, and calls itself "Temperament," and being only a rather +ordinary young man, did nothing of the kind. Having lighted his pipe, +and read the letter through again, he rang instead for Baxter, +his valet. + +Baxter was small, and slight, and dapper as to person, clean-shaven, +alert of eye, and soft of movement,--in a word, Baxter was the cream of +gentlemen's gentlemen, and the very acme of what a valet should be, from +the very precise parting of his glossy hair, to the trim toes of his +glossy boots. Baxter as has been said, was his valet, and had been his +father's valet, before him, and as to age, might have been thirty, or +forty, or fifty, as he stood there beside the table, with one eye-brow +raised a trifle higher than the other, waiting for Bellew to speak. + +"Baxter." + +"Sir?" + +"Take a seat." + +"Thank you sir." And Baxter sat down, not too near his master, nor too +far off, but exactly at the right, and proper distance. + +"Baxter, I wish to consult with you." + +"As between Master and Servant, sir?" + +"As between man and man, Baxter." + +"Very good, Mr. George, sir!" + +"I should like to hear your opinion, Baxter, as to what is the proper, +and most accredited course to adopt when one has been--er--crossed +in love?" + +"Why sir," began Baxter, slightly wrinkling his smooth brow, "so far as +I can call to mind, the courses usually adopted by despairing lovers, +are, in number, four." + +"Name them, Baxter." + +"First, Mr. George, there is what I may term, the Course +Retaliatory,--which is Marriage--" + +"Marriage?" + +"With--another party, sir,--on the principle that there are as good fish +in the sea as ever came out, and--er--pebbles on beaches, sir; you +understand me, sir?" + +"Perfectly, go on." + +"Secondly, there is the Army, sir, I have known of a good many +enlistments on account of blighted affections, Mr. George, sir; indeed, +the Army is very popular." + +"Ah?" said Bellew, settling the tobacco in his pipe with the aid of the +salt-spoon, "Proceed, Baxter." + +"Thirdly, Mr. George, there are those who are content to--to merely +disappear." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"And lastly sir, though it is usually the first,--there is dissipation, +Mr. George. Drink, sir,--the consolation of bottles, and--" + +"Exactly!" nodded Bellew. "Now Baxter," he pursued, beginning to draw +diagrams on the table-cloth with the salt-spoon, "knowing me as you do, +what course should you advise me to adopt?" + +"You mean, Mr. George,--speaking as between man and man of course,--you +mean that you are in the unfortunate position of being--crossed in your +affections, sir?" + +"Also--heart-broken, Baxter." + +"Certainly, sir!" + +"Miss Marchmont marries the Duke of Hyde,--in three weeks, Baxter." + +"Indeed, sir!" + +"You were, I believe, aware of the fact that Miss Marchmont and I were +as good as engaged?" + +"I had--hem!--gathered as much, sir." + +"Then--confound it all, Baxter!--why aren't you surprised?" + +"I am quite--over-come, sir!" said Baxter, stooping to recover the +salt-spoon which had slipped to the floor. + +"Consequently," pursued Bellew, "I am--er--broken-hearted, as I told +you--" + +"Certainly, sir." + +"Crushed, despondent, and utterly hopeless, Baxter, and shall be, +henceforth, pursued by the--er--Haunting Spectre of the Might +Have Been." + +"Very natural, sir, indeed!" + +"I could have hoped, Baxter, that, having served me so long,--not to +mention my father, you would have shown just a--er shade more feeling in +the matter." + +"And if you were to ask me,--as between man and man sir,--why I don't +show more feeling, then, speaking as the old servant of your respected +father, Master George, sir,--I should beg most respectfully to say that +regarding the lady in question, her conduct is not in the least +surprising, Miss Marchmont being a beauty, and aware of the fact, Master +George. Referring to your heart, sir, I am ready to swear that it is not +even cracked. And now, sir,--what clothes do you propose to wear +this morning?" + +"And pray, why should you be so confident of regarding +the--er--condition of my heart?" + +"Because, sir,--speaking as your father's old servant, Master George, I +make bold to say that I don't believe that you have ever been in love, +or even know what love is, Master George, sir." + +Bellew picked up the salt-spoon, balanced it very carefully upon his +finger, and put it down again. + +"Nevertheless," said he, shaking his head, "I can see for myself but the +dreary perspective of a hopeless future, Baxter, blasted by the Haunting +Spectre of the Might Have Been;--I'll trouble you to push the cigarettes +a little nearer." + +"And now, sir," said Baxter, as he rose to strike, and apply the +necessary match, "what suit will you wear to-day?" + +"Something in tweeds." + +"Tweeds, sir! surely you forget your appointment with the Lady Cecily +Prynne, and her party? Lord Mountclair had me on the telephone, +last night--" + +"Also a good, heavy walking-stick, Baxter, and a knap-sack." + +"A knap-sack, sir?" + +"I shall set out on a walking tour--in an hour's time." + +"Certainly, sir,--where to, sir?" + +"I haven't the least idea, Baxter, but I'm going--in an hour. On the +whole, of the four courses you describe for one whose life is blighted, +whose heart,--I say whose heart, Baxter, is broken,--utterly smashed, +and--er--shivered beyond repair, I prefer to disappear--in an +hour, Baxter." + +"Shall you drive the touring car, sir, or the new racer?" + +"I shall walk, Baxter, alone,--in an hour." + + + +CHAPTER III + +_Which concerns itself with a hay-cart, and a belligerent Waggoner_ + +It was upon a certain August morning that George Bellew shook the dust +of London from his feet, and, leaving Chance, or Destiny to direct him, +followed a hap-hazard course, careless alike of how, or when, or where; +sighing as often, and as heavily as he considered his heart-broken +condition required,--which was very often, and very heavily,--yet +heeding, for all that, the glory of the sun, and the stir and bustle of +the streets about him. + +Thus it was that, being careless of his ultimate destination, Fortune +condescended to take him under her wing, (if she has one), and guided +his steps across the river, into the lovely land of Kent,--that county +of gentle hills, and broad, pleasant valleys, of winding streams and +shady woods, of rich meadows and smiling pastures, of grassy lanes and +fragrant hedgerows,--that most delightful land which has been called, +and very rightly, "The Garden of England." + +It was thus, as has been said, upon a fair August morning, that Bellew +set out on what he termed "a walking tour." The reservation is necessary +because Bellew's idea of a walking-tour is original, and quaint. He +began very well, for Bellew,--in the morning he walked very nearly five +miles, and, in the afternoon, before he was discovered, he accomplished +ten more on a hay-cart that happened to be going in his direction. + +He had swung himself up among the hay, unobserved by the somnolent +driver, and had ridden thus an hour or more in that delicious state +between waking, and sleeping, ere the waggoner discovered him, whereupon +ensued the following colloquy: + +THE WAGGONER. (_Indignantly_) Hallo there! what might you be a doing of +in my hay? + +BELLEW. (_Drowsily_) Enjoying myself immensely. + +THE WAGGONER. (_Growling_) Well, you get out o' that, and sharp about +it. + +BELLEW. (_Yawning_) Not on your life! No sir,--'not for Cadwallader and +all his goats!' + +THE WAGGONER. You jest get down out o' my hay,--now come! + +BELLEW. (_Sleepily_) Enough, good fellow,--go to!--thy voice offends +mine ear! + +THE WAGGONER. (_Threateningly_) Ear be blowed! If ye don't get down out +o' my hay,--I'll come an' throw ye out. + +BELLEW. (_Drowsily_) 'Twould be an act of wanton aggression that likes +me not. + +THE WAGGONER. (_Dubiously_) Where be ye goin'? + +BELLEW. Wherever you like to take me; Thy way shall be my way, +and--er--thy people--(Yawn) So drive on, my rustic Jehu, and Heaven's +blessings prosper thee! + +Saying which, Bellew closed his eyes again, sighed plaintively, and once +more composed himself to slumber. + +But to drive on, the Waggoner, very evidently, had no mind; instead, +flinging the reins upon the backs of his horses, he climbed down from +his seat, and spitting on his hands, clenched them into fists and shook +them up at the yawning Bellew, one after the other. + +"It be enough," said he, "to raise the 'Old Adam' inside o' me to 'ave a +tramper o' the roads a-snoring in my hay,--but I ain't a-going to be +called names, into the bargain. 'Rusty'--I may be, but I reckon I'm good +enough for the likes o' you,--so come on down!" and the Waggoner shook +his fists again. + +He was a very square man, was this Waggoner, square of head, square of +jaw, and square of body, with twinkling blue eyes, and a pleasant, +good-natured face; but, just now, the eyes gleamed, and the face was set +grimly, and, altogether, he looked a very ugly opponent. + +Therefore Bellew sighed again, stretched himself, and, very reluctantly, +climbed down out of the hay. No sooner was he fairly in the road, than +the Waggoner went for him with a rush, and a whirl of knotted fists. It +was very dusty in that particular spot so that it presently rose in a +cloud, in the midst of which, the battle raged, fast and furious. + +And, in a while, the Waggoner, rising out of the ditch, grinned to see +Bellew wiping blood from his face. + +"You be no--fool!" panted the Waggoner, mopping his face with the end of +his neckerchief. "Leastways--not wi' your fists." + +"Why, you are pretty good yourself, if it comes to that," returned +Bellew, mopping in his turn. Thus they stood a while stanching their +wounds, and gazing upon each other with a mutual, and growing respect. + +"Well?" enquired Bellew, when he had recovered his breath somewhat, +"shall we begin again, or do you think we have had enough? To be sure, I +begin to feel much better for your efforts, you see, exercise is what I +most need, just now, on account of the--er--Haunting Spectre of the +Might Have Been,--to offset its effect, you know; but it is +uncomfortably warm work here, in the sun, isn't it?" + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "it be." + +"Then suppose we--er--continue our journey?" said Bellew with his dreamy +gaze upon the tempting load of sweet-smelling hay. + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner again, beginning to roll down his sleeves, +"suppose we do; I aren't above giving a lift to a chap as can use 'is +fists,--not even if 'e is a vagrant, and a uncommon dusty one at +that;--so, if you're in the same mind about it, up you get,--but no more +furrin curses, mind!" With which admonition, the Waggoner nodded, +grinned, and climbed back to his seat, while Bellew swung himself up +into the hay once more. + +"Friend," said he, as the waggon creaked upon its way, "Do you smoke?" + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner. + +"Then here are three cigars which you didn't manage to smash just now." + +"Cigars! why it ain't often as I gets so far as a cigar, unless it be +Squire, or Parson,--cigars, eh!" Saying which, the Waggoner turned and +accepted the cigars which he proceeded to stow away in the cavernous +interior of his wide-eaved hat, handling them with elaborate care, +rather as if they were explosives of a highly dangerous kind. + +Meanwhile, George Bellew, American Citizen, and millionaire, lay upon +the broad of his back, staring up at the cloudless blue above, and +despite heart break, and a certain Haunting Shadow, felt singularly +content, which feeling he was at some pains with himself to account for. + +"It's the exercise," said he, speaking his thought aloud, as he +stretched luxuriously upon his soft, and fragrant couch, "after all, +there is nothing like a little exercise." + +"That's what they all say!" nodded the Waggoner. "But I notice as them +as says it, ain't over fond o' doing of it,--they mostly prefers to lie +on their backs, an' talk about it,--like yourself." + +"Hum!" said Bellew, "ha! 'Some are born to exercise, some achieve +exercise, and some, like myself, have exercise thrust upon them.' But, +anyway, it is a very excellent thing,--more especially if one is +affected with a--er--broken heart." + +"A w'ot?" enquired the Waggoner. + +"Blighted affections, then," sighed Bellew, settling himself more +comfortably in the hay. + +"You aren't 'inting at--love, are ye?" enquired the Waggoner cocking a +somewhat sheepish eye at him. + +"I was, but, just at present," and here Bellew lowered his voice, "it is +a--er--rather painful subject with me,--let us, therefore, talk of +something else." + +"You don't mean to say as your 'eart's broke, do ye?" enquired the +Waggoner in a tone of such vast surprise and disbelief, that Bellew +turned, and propped himself on an indignant elbow. + +"And why the deuce not?" he retorted, "my heart is no more impervious +than anyone else's,--confound it!" + +"But," said the Waggoner, "you ain't got the look of a 'eart-broke cove, +no more than Squire Cassilis,--which the same I heard telling Miss +Anthea as 'is 'eart were broke, no later than yesterday, at two o'clock +in the arternoon, as ever was." + +"Anthea!" repeated Bellew, blinking drowsily up at the sky again, "that +is a very quaint name, and very pretty." + +"Pretty,--ah,--an' so's Miss Anthea!--as a pict'er." + +"Oh, really?" yawned Bellew. + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "there ain't a man, in or out o' the parish, +from Squire down, as don't think the very same." + +But here, the Waggoner's voice tailed off into a meaningless drone that +became merged with the creaking of the wheels, the plodding hoof-strokes +of the horses, and Bellew fell asleep. + +He was awakened by feeling himself shaken lustily, and, sitting up, saw +that they had come to where a narrow lane branched off from the high +road, and wound away between great trees. + +"Yon's your way," nodded the Waggoner, pointing along the high road, +"Dapplemere village lies over yonder, 'bout a mile." + +"Thank you very much," said Bellew, "but I don't want the village." + +"No?" enquired the Waggoner, scratching his head. + +"Certainly not," answered Bellew. + +"Then--what do ye want?" + +"Oh well, I'll just go on lying here, and see what turns up,--so drive +on, like the good fellow you are." + +"Can't be done!" said the Waggoner. + +"Why not?" + +"Why, since you ax me--because I don't have to drive no farther. There +be the farm-house,--over the up-land yonder, you can't see it because o' +the trees, but there it be." + +So, Bellew sighed resignedly, and, perforce, climbed down into the road. + +"What do I owe you?" he enquired. + +"Owe me!" said the Waggoner, staring. + +"For the ride, and the--er--very necessary exercise you afforded me." + +"Lord!" cried the Waggoner with a sudden, great laugh, "you don't owe me +nothin' for that,--not nohow,--I owe you one for a knocking of me into +that ditch, back yonder, though, to be sure, I did give ye one or two +good 'uns, didn't I?" + +"You certainly did!" answered Bellew smiling, and he held out his hand. + +"Hey!--what be this?" cried the Waggoner, staring down at the bright +five-shilling piece in his palm. + +"Well, I rather think it's five shillings," said Bellew. "It's big +enough, heaven knows. English money is all O.K., I suppose, but it's +confoundedly confusing, and rather heavy to drag around if you happen to +have enough of it--" + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "but then nobody never _has_ enough of +it,--leastways, I never knowed nobody as had. Good-bye, sir! and +thankee, and--good luck!" saying which, the Waggoner chirrupped to his +horses, slipped the coin into his pocket, nodded, and the waggon creaked +and rumbled up the lane. + +Bellew strolled along the road, breathing an air fragrant with +honey-suckle from the hedges, and full of the song of birds; pausing, +now and then, to listen to the blythe carol of a sky-lark, or the rich; +sweet notes of a black-bird, and feeling that it was indeed, good to be +alive; so that, what with all this,--the springy turf beneath his feet, +and the blue expanse over-head, he began to whistle for very joy of it, +until, remembering the Haunting Shadow of the Might Have Been, he +checked himself, and sighed instead. Presently, turning from the road, +he climbed a stile, and followed a narrow path that led away across the +meadows, and, as he went, there met him a gentle wind laden with the +sweet, warm scent of ripening hops, and fruit. + +On he went, and on,--heedless of his direction until the sun grew low, +and he grew hungry; wherefore, looking about, he presently espied a nook +sheltered from the sun's level rays by a steep bank where flowers +bloomed, and ferns grew. Here he sat down, unslinging his knap-sack, and +here it was, also, that he first encountered Small Porges. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +_How Small Porges in looking for a fortune for another, found an Uncle +for Himself instead_ + +The meeting of George Bellew and Small Porges, (as he afterward came to +be called), was sudden, precipitate, and wholly unexpected; and it +befell on this wise: + +Bellew had opened his knap-sack, had fished thence cheese, clasp-knife, +and a crusty loaf of bread, and, having exerted himself so far, had +fallen a thinking or a dreaming, in his characteristic attitude, +i.e.:--on the flat of his back, when he was aware of a crash in the +hedge above, and then, of something that hurtled past him, all arms and +legs, that rolled over two or three times, and eventually brought up in +a sitting posture; and, lifting a lazy head, Bellew observed that it was +a boy. He was a very diminutive boy with a round head covered with +coppery curls, a boy who stared at Bellew out of a pair of very round, +blue eyes, while he tenderly cherished a knee, and an elbow. He had been +on the brink of tears for a moment, but meeting Bellew's quizzical gaze, +he manfully repressed the weakness, and, lifting the small, and somewhat +weather-beaten cap that found a precarious perch at the back of his +curly head, he gravely wished Bellew "Good afternoon!" + +"Well met, my Lord Chesterfield!" nodded Bellew, returning the salute, +"are you hurt?" + +"Just a bit--on the elbow; but my name's George." + +"Why--so is mine!" said Bellew. + +"Though they call me 'Georgy-Porgy.'" + +"Of course they do," nodded Bellew, "they used to call me the same, once +upon a time,-- + + Georgy Porgy, pudding and pie + Kissed the girls, and made them cry, + +though I never did anything of the kind,--one doesn't do that sort of +thing when one is young,--and wise, that comes later, and brings its own +care, and--er--heart-break." Here Bellew sighed, and hacked a piece from +the loaf with the clasp-knife. "Are you hungry, Georgy Porgy?" he +enquired, glancing up at the boy who had risen, and was removing some of +the soil and dust from his small person with his cap. + +"Yes I am." + +"Then here is bread, and cheese, and bottled stout,--so fall to, good +comrade." + +"Thank you, but I've got a piece of bread an' jam in my bundle,--" + +"Bundle?" + +"I dropped it as I came through the hedge, I'll get it," and as he +spoke, he turned, and, climbing up the bank, presently came back with a +very small bundle that dangled from the end of a very long stick, and +seating himself beside Bellew, he proceeded to open it. There, sure +enough, was the bread and jam in question, seemingly a little the worse +for wear and tear, for Bellew observed various articles adhering to it, +amongst other things, a battered penknife, and a top. These, however, +were readily removed, and Georgy Porgy fell to with excellent appetite. + +"And pray," enquired Bellew, after they had munched silently together, +some while, "pray where might you be going?" + +"I don't know yet," answered Georgy Porgy with a shake of his curls. + +"Good again!" exclaimed Bellew, "neither do I." + +"Though I've been thinking of Africa," continued his diminutive +companion, turning the remain of the bread and jam over and over +thoughtfully. + +"Africa!" repeated Bellew, staring, "that's quite a goodish step from +here." + +"Yes," sighed Georgy Porgy, "but, you see, there's gold there, oh, lots +of it! they dig it out of the ground with shovels, you know. Old Adam +told me all 'bout it; an' it's gold I'm looking for, you see, I'm trying +to find a fortune." + +"I--er--beg your pardon--?" said Bellew. + +"Money, you know," explained Georgy Porgy with a patient sigh, "pounds, +an' shillings, an' bank-notes--in a sack if I can get them." + +"And what does such a very small Georgy Porgy want so much money for?" + +"Well, it's for my Auntie, you know, so she won't have to sell her +house, an' go away from Dapplemere. She was telling me, last night, when +I was in bed,--she always comes to tuck me up, you know, an' she told me +she was 'fraid we'd have to sell Dapplemere an' go to live somewhere +else. So I asked why, an' she said ''cause she hadn't any money,' an' +'Oh Georgy!' she said, 'oh Georgy, if we could only find enough money to +pay off the--the--'" + +"Mortgage?" suggested Bellew, at a venture. + +"Yes,--that's it, but how did you know?" + +"Never mind how, go on with your tale, Georgy Porgy." + +"'If--we could only find enough money, or somebody would leave us a +fortune,' she said,--an' she was crying too, 'cause I felt a tear fall +on me, you know. So this morning I got up, awful' early, an' made myself +a bundle on a stick,--like Dick Whittington had when he left home, an' I +started off to find a fortune." + +"I see," nodded Bellew. + +"But I haven't found anything--yet," said Georgy Porgy, with a long +sigh, "I s'pose money takes a lot of looking for, doesn't it?" + +"Sometimes," Bellew answered. "And do you live alone with your Auntie +then, Georgy Porgy?" + +"Yes;--most boys live with their mothers, but that's where I'm +different, I don't need one 'cause I've got my Auntie Anthea." + +"Anthea!" repeated Bellew, thoughtfully. Hereupon they fell silent, +Bellew watching the smoke curl up from his pipe into the warm, still +air, and Georgy Porgy watching him with very thoughtful eyes, and a +somewhat troubled brow, as if turning over some weighty matter in his +mind; at last, he spoke: + +"Please," said he, with a sudden diffidence, "where do you live?" + +"Live," repeated Bellew, smiling, "under my hat,--here, there, and +everywhere, which means--nowhere in particular." + +"But I--I mean--where is your home?" + +"My home," said Bellew, exhaling a great cloud of smoke, "my home lies +beyond the 'bounding billow." + +"That sounds an awful' long way off." + +"It _is_ an awful' long way off." + +"An' where do you sleep while--while you're here?" + +"Anywhere they'll let me. To-night I shall sleep at some inn, I suppose, +if I can find one, if not,--under a hedge, or hay-rick." + +"Oh!--haven't you got any home of your own, then,--here?" + +"No." + +"And--you're not going home just yet,--I mean across the 'bounding +billow?'" + +"Not yet." + +"Then--please--" the small boy's voice was suddenly tremulous and eager, +and he laid a little, grimy hand upon Bellew's sleeve, "please--if it +isn't too much trouble--would you mind coming with me--to--to help me to +find the fortune?--you see, you are so very big, an'--Oh!--will +you please?" + +George Bellew sat up suddenly, and smiled; Bellew's smile was, at all +times, wonderfully pleasant to see, at least, the boy thought so. + +"Georgy Porgy," said he, "you can just bet your small life, I will,--and +there's my hand on it, old chap." Bellew's lips were solemn now, but all +the best of his smile seemed, somehow, to have got into his gray eyes. +So the big hand clasped the small one, and as they looked at each other, +there sprang up a certain understanding that was to be an enduring bond +between them. + +"I think," said Bellew, as he lay, and puffed at his pipe again, "I +think I'll call you Porges, it's shorter, easier, and I think, +altogether apt; I'll be Big Porges, and you shall be Small Porges,--what +do you say?" + +"Yes, it's lots better than Georgy Porgy," nodded the boy. And so Small +Porges he became, thenceforth. "But," said he, after a thoughtful pause, +"I think, if you don't mind, I'd rather call you----Uncle Porges. You +see, Dick Bennet--the black-smith's boy, has three uncles an' I've only +got a single aunt,--so, if you don't mind--" + +"Uncle Porges it shall be, now and for ever, Amen!" murmured Bellew. + +"An' when d'you s'pose we'd better start?" enquired Small Porges, +beginning to re-tie his bundle. + +"Start where, nephew?" + +"To find the fortune." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"If we could manage to find some,--even if it was only a very little, it +would cheer her up so." + +"To be sure it would," said Bellew, and, sitting up, he pitched loaf, +cheese, and clasp-knife back into the knap-sack, fastened it, slung it +upon his shoulders, and rising, took up his stick. + +"Come on, my Porges," said he, "and, whatever you do--keep your 'weather +eye' on your uncle." + +"Where do you s'pose we'd better look first?" enquired Small Porges, +eagerly. + +"Why, first, I think we'd better find your Auntie Anthea." + +"But,--" began Porges, his face falling. + +"But me no buts, my Porges," smiled Bellew, laying his hand upon his +new-found nephew's shoulder, "but me no buts, boy, and, as I said +before,--just keep your eye on your uncle." + + + +CHAPTER V + +_How Bellew came to Arcadia_ + +So, they set out together, Big Porges and Small Porges, walking side by +side over sun-kissed field and meadow, slowly and thoughtfully, to be +sure, for Bellew disliked hurry; often pausing to listen to the music of +running waters, or to stare away across the purple valley, for the sun +was getting low. And, ever as they went, they talked to one another +whole-heartedly as good friends should. + +And, from the boy's eager lips, Bellew heard much of "Auntie Anthea," +and learned, little by little, something of the brave fight she had +made, lonely and unaided, and burdened with ancient debt, to make the +farm of Dapplemere pay. Likewise Small Porges spoke learnedly of the +condition of the markets, and of the distressing fall in prices in +regard to hay, and wheat. + +"Old Adam,--he's our man, you know, he says that farming isn't what it +was in his young days, 'specially if you happen to be a woman, like my +Auntie Anthea, an' he told me yesterday that if he were Auntie he'd give +up trying, an' take Mr. Cassilis at his word." + +"Cassilis, ah!--And who is Mr. Cassilis?" + +"He lives at 'Brampton Court'--a great, big house 'bout a mile from +Dapplemere; an' he's always asking my Auntie to marry him, but 'course +she won't you know." + +"Why not?" + +"Well, I think it's 'cause he's got such big, white teeth when he +smiles,--an' he's always smiling, you know; but Old Adam says that if +he'd been born a woman he'd marry a man all teeth, or no teeth at all, +if he had as much money as Mr. Cassilis." + +The sun was low in the West as, skirting a wood, they came out upon a +grassy lane that presently led them into the great, broad highway. + +Now, as they trudged along together, Small Porges with one hand clasped +in Bellew's, and the other supporting the bundle on his shoulder, there +appeared, galloping towards them a man on a fine black horse, at sight +of whom, Porges' clasp tightened, and he drew nearer to Bellew's side. + +When he was nearly abreast of them, the horse-man checked his career so +suddenly that his animal was thrown back on his haunches. + +"Why--Georgy!" he exclaimed. + +"Good evening, Mr. Cassilis!" said Small Porges, lifting his cap. + +Mr. Cassilis was tall, handsome, well built, and very particular as to +dress. Bellew noticed that his teeth were, indeed, very large and white, +beneath the small, carefully trained moustache; also his eyes seemed +just a trifle too close together, perhaps. + +"Why--what in the world have you been up to, boy?" he enquired, +regarding Bellew with no very friendly eye. "Your Aunt is worrying +herself ill on your account,--what have you been doing with yourself +all day?" + +Again Bellew felt the small fingers tighten round his, and the small +figure shrink a little closer to him, as Small Porges answered, + +"I've been with Uncle Porges, Mr. Cassilis." + +"With whom?" demanded Mr. Cassilis, more sharply. + +"With his Uncle Porges, sir," Bellew rejoined, "a trustworthy person, +and very much at your service." + +Mr. Cassilis stared, his hand began to stroke and caress his small, +black moustache, and he viewed Bellew from his dusty boots up to the +crown of his dusty hat, and down again, with supercilious eyes. + +"Uncle?" he repeated incredulously. + +"Porges," nodded Bellew. + +"I wasn't aware," began Mr. Cassilis, "that--er--George was so very +fortunate--" + +"Baptismal name--George," continued Bellew, "lately of New York, +Newport, and--er--other places in America, U.S.A., at present of +Nowhere-in-Particular." + +"Ah!" said Mr. Cassilis, his eyes seeming to grow a trifle nearer +together, "an American Uncle? Still, I was not aware of even that +relationship." + +"It is a singularly pleasing thought," smiled Bellew, "to know that we +may learn something every day,--that one never knows what the day may +bring forth; to-morrow, for instance, you also may find yourself a +nephew--somewhere or other, though, personally, I--er doubt it, yes, I +greatly doubt it; still, one never knows, you know, and while there's +life, there's hope. A very good afternoon to you, sir. Come, nephew +mine, the evening falls apace, and I grow aweary,--let us +on--Excelsior!" + +Mr. Cassilis's cheek grew suddenly red, he twirled his moustache +angrily, and seemed about to speak, then he smiled instead, and turning +his horse, spurred him savagely, and galloped back down the road in a +cloud of dust. + +"Did you see his teeth, Uncle Porges?" + +"I did." + +"He only smiles like that when he's awful' angry," said Small Porges +shaking his head as the galloping hoof-strokes died away in the +distance, "An' what do you s'pose he went back for?" + +"Well, Porges, it's in my mind that he has gone back to warn our Auntie +Anthea of our coming." + +Small Porges sighed, and his feet dragged in the dust. + +"Tired, my Porges?" + +"Just a bit, you know,--but it isn't that. I was thinking that the day +has almost gone, an' I haven't found a bit of the fortune yet." + +"Why there's always to-morrow to live for, my Porges." + +"Yes, 'course--there's always to-morrow; an' then,--I did find you, you +know, Uncle Porges." + +"To be sure you did, and an uncle is better than nothing at all, isn't +he,--even if he is rather dusty and disreputable of exterior. One +doesn't find an uncle every day of one's life, my Porges, no sir!" + +"An' you are so nice an' big, you know!" said Porges, viewing Bellew +with a bright, approving eye. + +"Long, would be a better word, perhaps," suggested Bellew, smiling down +at him. + +"An' wide, too!" nodded Small Porges. And, from these two facts he +seemed to derive a deal of solid comfort, and satisfaction for he strode +on manfully once more. + +Leaving the high-road, he guided Bellew by divers winding paths, through +corn-fields, and over stiles, until, at length, they were come to an +orchard. Such an orchard as surely may only be found in Kent,--where +great apple-trees, gnarled, and knotted, shot out huge branches that +seemed to twist, and writhe; where were stately pear trees; where +peaches, and apricots, ripened against time-worn walls whose red bricks +still glowed rosily for all their years; where the air was sweet with +the scent of fruit, and fragrant with thyme, and sage, and marjoram; and +where the black-birds, bold marauders that they are, piped gloriously +all day long. In the midst of this orchard they stopped, and Small +Porges rested one hand against the rugged bole of a great, old +apple tree. + +"This," said he, "is my very own tree, because he's so very big, an' so +very, very old,--Adam says he's the oldest tree in the orchard. I call +him 'King Arthur' 'cause he is so big, an' strong,--just like a king +should be, you know,--an' all the other trees are his Knights of the +Round Table." + +But Bellew was not looking at "King Arthur" just then; his eyes were +turned to where one came towards them through the green,--one surely as +tall, and gracious, as proud and beautiful, as Enid, or Guinevere, or +any of those lovely ladies, for all her simple gown of blue, and the +sunbonnet that shaded the beauty of her face. Yes, as he gazed, Bellew +was sure and certain that she who, all unconscious of their presence, +came slowly towards them with the red glow of the sunset about her, was +handsomer, lovelier, statelier, and altogether more desirable than all +the beautiful ladies of King Arthur's court,--or any other court so-ever. + +But now Small Porges finding him so silent, and seeing where he looked, +must needs behold her too, and gave a sudden, glad cry, and ran out from +behind the great bulk of "King Arthur," and she, hearing his voice, +turned and ran to meet him, and sank upon her knees before him, and +clasped him against her heart, and rejoiced, and wept, and scolded him, +all in a breath. Wherefore Bellew, unobserved, as yet in "King Arthur's" +shadow, watching the proud head with its wayward curls, (for the +sunbonnet had been tossed back upon her shoulders), watching the quick, +passionate caress of those slender, brown hands, and listening to the +thrilling tenderness of that low, soft voice, felt, all at once, +strangely lonely, and friendless, and out of place, very rough and +awkward, and very much aware of his dusty person,--felt, indeed, as any +other ordinary human might, who had tumbled unexpectedly into Arcadia; +therefore he turned, thinking to steal quietly away. + +"You see, Auntie, I went out to try an' find a fortune for you," Small +Porges was explaining, "an' I looked, an' looked, but I didn't find +a bit--" + +"My dear, dear, brave Georgy!" said Anthea, and would have kissed him +again, but he put her off: + +"Wait a minute, please Auntie," he said excitedly, "'cause I did +find--something,--just as I was growing very tired an' disappointed, I +found Uncle Porges--under a hedge, you know." + +"Uncle Porges!" said Anthea, starting, "Oh! that must be the man Mr. +Cassilis mentioned--" + +"So I brought him with me," pursued Small Porges, "an' there he is!" and +he pointed triumphantly towards "King Arthur." + +Glancing thither, Anthea beheld a tall, dusty figure moving off among +the trees. + +"Oh,--wait, please!" she called, rising to her feet, and, with Small +Porges' hand in hers, approached Bellew who had stopped with his dusty +back to them. + +"I--I want to thank you for--taking care of my nephew. If you will come +up to the house cook shall give you a good meal, and, if you are in need +of work, I--I--" her voice faltered uncertainly, and she stopped. + +"Thank you!" said Bellew, turning and lifting his hat. + +"Oh!--I beg your pardon!" said Anthea. + +Now as their eyes met, it seemed to Bellew as though he had lived all +his life in expectation of this moment, and he knew that all his life he +should never forget this moment. But now, even while he looked at her, +he saw her cheeks flush painfully, and her dark eyes grow troubled. + +"I beg your pardon!" said she again, "I--I thought--Mr. Cassilis gave me +to understand that you were--" + +"A very dusty, hungry-looking fellow, perhaps," smiled Bellew, "and he +was quite right, you know; the dust you can see for yourself, but the +hunger you must take my word for. As for the work, I assure you exercise +is precisely what I am looking for." + +"But--" said Anthea, and stopped, and tapped the grass nervously with +her foot, and twisted one of her bonnet-strings, and meeting Bellew's +steady gaze, flushed again, "but you--you are--" + +"My Uncle Porges," her nephew chimed in, "an' I brought him home with me +'cause he's going to help me to find a fortune, an' he hasn't got any +place to go to 'cause his home's far, far beyond the 'bounding +billow,'--so you will let him stay, won't you, Auntie Anthea?" + +"Why--Georgy--" she began, but seeing her distressed look, Bellew came +to her rescue. + +"Pray do, Miss Anthea," said he in his quiet, easy manner. "My name is +Bellew," he went on to explain, "I am an American, without family or +friends, here, there or anywhere, and with nothing in the world to do +but follow the path of the winds. Indeed, I am rather a solitary fellow, +at least--I was, until I met my nephew Porges here. Since then, I've +been wondering if there would be--er--room for such as I, at +Dapplemere?" + +"Oh, there would be plenty of room," said Anthea, hesitating, and +wrinkling her white brow, for a lodger was something entirely new in her +experience. + +"As to my character," pursued Bellew, "though something of a vagabond, I +am not a rogue,--at least, I hope not, and I could pay--er--four or five +pounds a week--" + +"Oh!" exclaimed Anthea, with a little gasp. + +"If that would be sufficient--" + +"It is--a great deal too much!" said Anthea who would have scarcely +dared to ask three. + +"Pardon me!--but I think not," said Bellew, shaking his head, "you see, +I am--er--rather extravagant in my eating,--eggs, you know, lots of 'em, +and ham, and beef, and--er--(a duck quacked loudly from the vicinity of +a neighbouring pond),--certainly,--an occasional duck! Indeed, five +pounds a week would scarcely--" + +"Three would be ample!" said Anthea with a little nod of finality. + +"Very well," said Bellew, "we'll make it four, and have done with it." + +Anthea Devine, being absolute mistress of Dapplemere, was in the habit +of exerting her authority, and having her own way in most things; +therefore, she glanced up, in some surprise, at this tall, dusty, rather +lazy looking personage; and she noticed, even as had Small Porges, that +he was indeed very big and wide; she noticed also that, despite the easy +courtesy of his manner, and the quizzical light of his gray eyes, his +chin was very square, and that, despite his gentle voice, he had the air +of one who meant exactly what he said. Nevertheless she was much +inclined to take issue with him upon the matter; plainly observing +which, Bellew smiled, and shook his head. + +"Pray be reasonable," he said in his gentle voice, "if you send me away +to some horrible inn or other, it will cost me--being an American, +--more than that every week, in tips and things,--so let's shake hands +on it, and call it settled," and he held out his hand to her. + +Four pounds a week! It would be a veritable God-send just at present, +while she was so hard put to it to make both ends meet. Four pounds a +week! So Anthea stood, lost in frowning thought until meeting his frank +smile, she laughed. + +"You are dreadfully persistent!" she said, "and I know it is too +much,--but--we'll try to make you as comfortable as we can," and she +laid her hand in his. + +And thus it was that George Bellew came to Dapplemere in the glory of +the after-glow of an August afternoon, breathing the magic air of +Arcadia which is, and always has been, of that rare quality warranted to +go to the head, sooner, or later. + +And thus it was that Small Porges with his bundle on his shoulder, +viewed this tall, dusty Uncle with the eye of possession which is +oft-times an eye of rapture. + +And Anthea? She was busy calculating to a scrupulous nicety the very +vexed question as to exactly how far four pounds per week might be made +to go to the best possible advantage of all concerned. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +_Of the sad condition of the Haunting Spectre of the Might Have Been_ + +Dapplemere Farm House, or "The Manor," as it was still called by many, +had been built when Henry the Eighth was King, as the carved inscription +above the door testified. + +The House of Dapplemere was a place of many gables, and latticed +windows, and with tall, slender chimneys shaped, and wrought into things +of beauty and delight. It possessed a great, old hall; there were +spacious chambers, and broad stairways; there were panelled corridors; +sudden flights of steps that led up, or down again, for no apparent +reason; there were broad, and generous hearths, and deep window-seats; +and everywhere, within, and without, there lurked an indefinable, +old-world charm that was the heritage of years. + +Storms had buffeted, and tempests had beaten upon it, but all in vain, +for, save that the bricks glowed a deeper red where they peeped out +beneath the clinging ivy, the old house stood as it had upon that far +day when it was fashioned,--in the Year of Our Lord One Thousand Five +Hundred and Twenty-four. + +In England many such houses are yet to be found, monuments of the "Bad +Old Times"--memorials of the "Dark Ages"--when lath and stucco existed +not, and the "Jerry-builder" had no being. But where, among them all, +might be found such another parlour as this at Dapplemere, with its low, +raftered ceiling, its great, carved mantel, its panelled walls whence +old portraits looked down at one like dream faces, from dim, and +nebulous backgrounds. And where might be found two such bright-eyed, +rosy-cheeked, quick-footed, deft-handed Phyllises as the two buxom maids +who flitted here and there, obedient to their mistress's word, or +gesture. And, lastly, where, in all this wide world, could there ever be +found just such another hostess as Miss Anthea, herself? Something of +all this was in Bellew's mind as he sat with Small Porges beside him, +watching Miss Anthea dispense tea,--brewed as it should be, in an +earthen tea-pot. + +"Milk and sugar, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Thank you!" + +"This is blackberry, an' this is raspberry an' red currant--but the +blackberry jam's the best, Uncle Porges!" + +"Thank you, nephew." + +"Now aren't you awful' glad I found you--under that hedge, Uncle +Porges?" + +"Nephew,--I am!" + +"Nephew?" repeated Anthea, glancing at him with raised brows. + +"Oh yes!" nodded Bellew, "we adopted each other--at about four o'clock, +this afternoon." + +"Under a hedge, you know!" added Small Porges. + +"Wasn't it a very sudden, and altogether--unheard of proceeding?" Anthea +enquired. + +"Well, it might have been if it had happened anywhere but in Arcadia." + +"What do you mean by Arcadia, Uncle Porges?" + +"A place I've been looking for--nearly all my life, nephew. I'll trouble +you for the blackberry jam, my Porges." + +"Yes, try the blackberry,--Aunt Priscilla made it her very own self." + +"You know it's perfectly--ridiculous!" said Anthea, frowning and +laughing, both at the same time. + +"What is, Miss Anthea?" + +"Why that you should be sitting here calling Georgy your nephew, and +that I should be pouring out tea for you, quite as a matter of course." + +"It seems to me the most delightfully natural thing in the world," said +Bellew, in his slow, grave manner. + +"But--I've only known you--half an hour--!" + +"But then, friendships ripen quickly--in Arcadia." + +"I wonder what Aunt Priscilla will have to say about it!" + +"Aunt Priscilla?" + +"She is our housekeeper,--the dearest, busiest, gentlest little +housekeeper in all the world; but with--very sharp eyes, Mr. Bellew. She +will either like you very much,--or--not at all! there are no half +measures about Aunt Priscilla." + +"Now I wonder which it will be," said Bellew, helping himself to more +jam. + +"Oh, she'll like you, a course!" nodded Small Porges, "I know she'll +like you 'cause you're so different to Mr. Cassilis,--he's got black +hair, an' a mestache, you know, an' your hair's gold, like mine,--an' +your mestache--isn't there, is it? An' I know she doesn't like Mr. +Cassilis, an' I don't, either, 'cause--" + +"She will be back to-morrow," said Anthea, silencing Small Porges with a +gentle touch of her hand, "and we shall be glad, sha'n't we, Georgy? The +house is not the same place without her. You see, I am off in the fields +all day, as a rule; a farm,--even such a small one as Dapplemere, is a +great responsibility, and takes up all one's time--if it is to be +made to pay--" + +"An' sometimes it doesn't pay at all, you know!" added Small Porges, +"an' then Auntie Anthea worries, an' I worry too. Farming isn't what it +was in Adam's young days,--so that's why I must find a fortune--early +tomorrow morning, you know,--so my Auntie won't have to worry +any more--" + +Now when he had got thus far, Anthea leaned over, and, taking him by +surprise, kissed Small Porges suddenly. + +"It was very good, and brave of you, dear," said she in her soft, +thrilling voice, "to go out all alone into this big world to try and +find a fortune for me!" and here she would have kissed him again but +that he reminded her that they were not alone. + +"But, Georgy dear,--fortunes are very hard to find,--especially round +Dapplemere, I'm afraid!" said she, with a rueful little laugh. + +"Yes, that's why I was going to Africa, you know." + +"Africa!" she repeated, "Africa!" + +"Oh yes," nodded Bellew, "when I met him he was on his way there to +bring back gold for you--in a sack." + +"Only Uncle Porges said it was a goodish way off, you know, so I 'cided +to stay an' find the fortune nearer home." + +And thus they talked unaffectedly together until, tea being over, Anthea +volunteered to show Bellew over her small domain, and they went out, all +three, into an evening that breathed of roses, and honeysuckle. + +And, as they went, slow-footed through the deepening twilight, Small +Porges directed Bellew's attention to certain nooks and corners that +might be well calculated to conceal the fortune they were to find; while +Anthea pointed out to him the beauties of shady wood, of rolling meadow, +and winding stream. + +But there were other beauties that neither of them thought to call to +his attention, but which Bellew noted with observing eyes, none the +less:--such, for instance, as the way Anthea had of drooping her shadowy +lashes at sudden and unexpected moments; the wistful droop of her warm, +red lips, and the sweet, round column of her throat. These, and much +beside, Bellew noticed for himself as they walked on together through +this midsummer evening.... And so, betimes, Bellew got him to bed, and, +though the hour was ridiculously early, yet he fell into a profound +slumber, and dreamed of--nothing at all. But, far away upon the road, +forgotten, and out of mind,--with futile writhing and grimaces, the +Haunting Shadow of the Might Have Been jibbered in the shadows. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +_Which concerns itself among other matters, with "the Old Adam"_ + +Bellew awakened early next morning, which was an unusual thing for +Bellew to do under ordinary circumstances since he was one who held with +that poet who has written, somewhere or other, something to the +following effect: + +"God bless the man who first discovered sleep. But damn the man with +curses loud, and deep, who first invented--early rising." + +Nevertheless, Bellew, (as has been said), awoke early next morning, to +find the sun pouring in at his window, and making a glory all about him. +But it was not this that had roused him, he thought as he lay blinking +drowsily,--nor the black-bird piping so wonderfully in the apple-tree +outside,--a very inquisitive apple-tree that had writhed, and contorted +itself most un-naturally in its efforts to peep in at the +window;--therefore Bellew fell to wondering, sleepily enough, what it +could have been. Presently it came again, the sound,--a very peculiar +sound the like of which Bellew had never heard before, which, as he +listened, gradually evolved itself into a kind of monotonous chant, +intoned by a voice deep, and harsh, yet withal, not unmusical. Now the +words of the chant were these: + + "When I am dead, diddle, diddle, as well may hap, + Bury me deep, diddle, diddle, under the tap, + Under the tap, diddle, diddle, I'll tell you why, + That I may drink, diddle, diddle, when I am dry." + +Hereupon, Bellew rose, and crossing to the open casement leaned out into +the golden freshness of the morning. Looking about he presently espied +the singer,--one who carried two pails suspended from a yoke upon his +shoulders,--a very square man; that is to say, square of shoulder, +square of head, and square of jaw, being, in fact, none other than the +Waggoner with whom he had fought, and ridden on the previous afternoon; +seeing which, Bellew hailed him in cheery greeting. The man glanced up, +and, breaking off his song in the middle of a note, stood gazing at +Bellew, open-mouthed. + +"What,--be that you, sir?" he enquired, at last, and then,--"Lord! an' +what be you a doing of up theer?" + +"Why, sleeping, of course," answered Bellew. + +"W'ot--again!" exclaimed the Waggoner with a grin, "you do be for ever +a-sleepin' I do believe!" + +"Not when you're anywhere about!" laughed Bellew. + +"Was it me as woke ye then?" + +"Your singing did." + +"My singin'! Lord love ye, an' well it might! My singin' would wake the +dead,--leastways so Prudence says, an' she's generally right, +--leastways, if she ain't, she's a uncommon good cook, an' that goes a +long way wi' most of us. But I don't sing very often unless I be alone, +or easy in my mind an' 'appy-'earted,--which I ain't." + +"No?" enquired Bellew. + +"Not by no manner o' means, I ain't,--contrariwise my 'eart be sore an' +full o' gloom,--which ain't to be wondered at, nohow." + +"And yet you were singing." + +"Aye, for sure I were singin', but then who could help singin' on such a +mornin' as this be, an' wi' the black-bird a-piping away in the tree +here. Oh! I were singin', I don't go for to deny it, but it's sore +'earted I be, an' filled wi' gloom sir, notwithstanding." + +"You mean," said Bellew, becoming suddenly thoughtful, "that you are +haunted by the Carking Spectre of the--er Might Have Been?" + +"Lord bless you, no sir! This ain't no spectre, nor yet no +skellington,--which, arter all, is only old bones an' such,--no this +ain't nothin' of that sort, an' no more it ain't a thing as I can stand +'ere a maggin' about wi' a long day's work afore me, axing your pardon, +sir." Saying which, the Waggoner nodded suddenly and strode off with his +pails clanking cheerily. + +Very soon Bellew was shaved, and dressed, and going down stairs he let +himself out into the early sunshine, and strolled away towards the +farm-yard where cocks crew, cows lowed, ducks quacked, turkeys and geese +gobbled and hissed, and where the Waggoner moved to and fro among them +all, like a presiding genius. + +"I think," said Bellew, as he came up, "I think you must be the Adam I +have heard of." + +"That be my name, sir." + +"Then Adam, fill your pipe," and Bellew extended his pouch, whereupon +Adam thanked him, and fishing a small, short, black clay from his +pocket, proceeded to fill, and light it. + +"Yes sir," he nodded, inhaling the tobacco with much apparent enjoyment, +"Adam I were baptized some thirty odd year ago, but I generally calls +myself 'Old Adam,'" + +"But you're not old, Adam." + +"Why, it ain't on account o' my age, ye see sir,--it be all because o' +the Old Adam as is inside o' me. Lord love ye! I am nat'rally that full +o' the 'Old Adam' as never was. An' 'e's alway a up an' taking of me at +the shortest notice. Only t'other day he up an' took me because Job +Jagway ('e works for Squire Cassilis, you'll understand sir) because Job +Jagway sez as our wheat, (meanin' Miss Anthea's wheat, you'll understand +sir) was mouldy; well, the 'Old Adam' up an' took me to that extent, +sir, that they 'ad to carry Job Jagway home, arterwards. Which is all on +account o' the Old Adam,--me being the mildest chap you ever see, +nat'rally,--mild? ah! sucking doves wouldn't be nothin' to me for +mildness." + +"And what did the Squire have to say about your spoiling his man?" + +"Wrote to Miss Anthea, o' course, sir,--he's always writing to Miss +Anthea about summat or other,--sez as how he was minded to lock me up +for 'sault an' battery, but, out o' respect for her, would let me off, +wi' a warning." + +"Miss Anthea was worried, I suppose?" + +"Worried, sir! 'Oh Adam!' sez she, 'Oh Adam! 'aven't I got enough to +bear but you must make it 'arder for me?' An' I see the tears in her +eyes while she said it. Me make it 'arder for her! Jest as if I wouldn't +make things lighter for 'er if I could,--which I can't; jest as if, to +help Miss Anthea, I wouldn't let 'em take me an'--well, never mind +what,--only I would!" + +"Yes, I'm sure you would," nodded Bellew. "And is the Squire over here +at Dapplemere very often, Adam?" + +"Why, not so much lately, sir. Last time were yesterday, jest afore +Master Georgy come 'ome. I were at work here in the yard, an' Squire +comes riding up to me, smiling quite friendly like,--which were pretty +good of him, considering as Job Jagway ain't back to work yet. 'Oh +Adam!' sez he, 'so you're 'aving a sale here at Dapplemere, are you?' +Meaning sir, a sale of some bits, an' sticks o' furnitur' as Miss +Anthea's forced to part wi' to meet some bill or other. 'Summat o' that +sir,' says I, making as light of it as I could. 'Why then, Adam,' sez +he, 'if Job Jagway should 'appen to come over to buy a few o' the +things,--no more fighting!' sez he. An' so he nods, an' smiles, an' off +he rides. An' sir, as I watched him go, the 'Old Adam' riz up in me to +that extent as it's a mercy I didn't have no pitchfork 'andy." + +Bellew, sitting on the shaft of a cart with his back against a rick, +listened to this narration with an air of dreamy abstraction, but Adam's +quick eyes noticed that despite the unruffled serenity of his brow, his +chin seemed rather more prominent than usual. + +"So that was why you were feeling gloomy, was it, Adam?" + +"Ah! an' enough to make any man feel gloomy, I should think. Miss +Anthea's brave enough, but I reckon 'twill come nigh breakin' 'er 'eart +to see the old stuff sold, the furnitur' an' that,--so she's goin' to +drive over to Cranbrook to be out o' the way while it's a-doin'." + +"And when does the sale take place?" + +"The Saturday arter next, sir, as ever was," Adam answered. +"But--hush,--mum's the word, sir!" he broke off, and winking violently +with a side-ways motion of the head, he took up his pitch-fork. +Wherefore, glancing round, Bellew saw Anthea coming towards them, fresh +and sweet as the morning. Her hands were full of flowers, and she +carried her sun-bonnet upon her arm. Here and there a rebellious curl +had escaped from its fastenings as though desirous (and very naturally) +of kissing the soft oval of her cheek, or the white curve of her neck. +And among them Bellew noticed one in particular,--a roguish curl that +glowed in the sun with a coppery light, and peeped at him wantonly +above her ear. + +"Good morning!" said he, rising and, to all appearance, addressing the +curl in question, "you are early abroad this morning!" + +"Early, Mr. Bellew!--why I've been up hours. I'm generally out at four +o'clock on market days; we work hard, and long, at Dapplemere," she +answered, giving him her hand with her grave, sweet smile. + +"Aye, for sure!" nodded Adam, "but farmin' ain't what it was in my young +days!" + +"But I think we shall do well with the hops, Adam." + +"'Ops, Miss Anthea,--lord love you!--there ain't no 'ops nowhere so good +as ourn be!" + +"They ought to be ready for picking, soon,--do you think sixty people +will be enough?" + +"Ah!--they'll be more'n enough, Miss Anthea." + +"And, Adam--the five-acre field should be mowed today." + +"I'll set the men at it right arter breakfast,--I'll 'ave it done, trust +me, Miss Anthea." + +"I do, Adam,--you know that!" And with a smiling nod she turned away. +Now, as Bellew walked on beside her, he felt a strange constraint upon +him such as he had never experienced towards any woman before, and the +which he was at great pains with himself to account for. Indeed so rapt +was he, that he started suddenly to find that she was asking him +a question: + +"Do you--like Dapplemere, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Like it!" he repeated, "like it? Yes indeed!" + +"I'm so glad!" she answered, her eyes glowing with pleasure. "It was a +much larger property, once,--Look!" and she pointed away across +corn-fields and rolling meadow to the distant woods. "In my +grandfather's time it was all his--as far as you can see, and farther, +but it has dwindled since then, and to-day, my Dapplemere is very +small indeed." + +"You must be very fond of such a beautiful place." + +"Oh, I love it!" she cried passionately, "if ever I had to--give it +up,--I think I should--die!" She stopped suddenly, and as though +somewhat abashed by this sudden outburst, adding in a lighter tone: "If +I seem rather tragic it is because this is the only home I have +ever known." + +"Well," said Bellew, appearing rather more dreamy than usual, just then, +"I have journeyed here and there in this world of ours, I have wandered +up and down, and to and fro in it,--like a certain celebrated personage +who shall be nameless,--yet I never saw, or dreamed, of any such place +as this Dapplemere of yours. It is like Arcadia itself, and only I am +out of place. I seem, somehow, to be too common-place, and altogether +matter-of-fact." + +"I'm sure I'm matter-of-fact enough," she said, with her low, sweet +laugh that, Bellew thought, was all too rare. + +"You?" said he, and shook his head. + +"Well?" she enquired, glancing at him through her wind-tossed curls. + +"You are like some fair, and stately lady out of the old romances," he +said gravely. + +"In a print gown, and with a sun-bonnet!" + +"Even so!" he nodded. Here, for no apparent reason, happening to meet +his glance, the colour deepened in her cheek and she was silent; +wherefore Bellew went on, in his slow, placid tones. "You surely, are +the Princess ruling this fair land of Arcadia, and I am the Stranger +within your gates. It behoves you, therefore, to be merciful to this +Stranger, if only for the sake of--er--our mutual nephew." + +Whatever Anthea might have said in answer was cut short by Small Porges +himself who came galloping towards them with the sun bright in +his curls. + +"Oh, Uncle Porges!" he panted as he came up, "I was 'fraid you'd gone +away an' left me,--I've been hunting, an' hunting for you ever since +I got up." + +"No, I haven't gone away yet, my Porges, you see." + +"An' you won't go--ever or ever, will you?" + +"That," said Bellew, taking the small hand in his, "that is a question +that we had better leave to the--er--future, nephew." + +"But--why!" + +"Well, you see, it doesn't rest with me--altogether, my Porges." + +"Then who--" he was beginning, but Anthea's soft voice interrupted him. + +"Georgy dear, didn't Prudence send you to tell us that breakfast was +ready?" + +"Oh yes! I was forgetting,--awfull' silly of me wasn't it! But you are +going to stay--Oh a long, long time, aren't you, Uncle Porges?" + +"I sincerely hope so!" answered Bellew. Now as he spoke, his eyes,--by +the merest chance in the world, of course,--happened to meet Anthea's, +whereupon she turned, and slipped on her sunbonnet which was very +natural, for the sun was growing hot already. + +"I'm awful' glad!" sighed Small Porges, "an' Auntie's glad too,--aren't +you Auntie?" + +"Why--of course!" from the depths of the sunbonnet. + +"'Cause now, you see, there'll be two of us to take care of you. Uncle +Porges is so nice an' big, and--wide, isn't he, Auntie?" + +"Y-e-s,--Oh Georgy!--what are you talking about?" + +"Why I mean I'm rather small to take care of you all by myself alone, +Auntie, though I do my best of course. But now that I've found myself a +big, tall Uncle Porges,--under the hedge, you know,--we can take care of +you together, can't we, Auntie Anthea?" + +But Anthea only hurried on without speaking, whereupon Small Porges +continued all unheeding: + +"You 'member the other night, Auntie, when you were crying, you said you +wished you had some one very big, and strong to take care of you--" + +"Oh--Georgy!" + +Bellew heartily wished that sunbonnets had never been thought of. + +"But you did you know, Auntie, an' so that was why I went out an' found +my Uncle Porges for you,--so that he--" + +But here, Mistress Anthea, for all her pride and stateliness, catching +her gown about her, fairly ran on down the path and never paused until +she had reached the cool, dim parlour. Being there, she tossed aside her +sunbonnet, and looked at herself in the long, old mirror, and,--though +surely no mirror made by man, ever reflected a fairer vision of +dark-eyed witchery and loveliness, nevertheless Anthea stamped her foot, +and frowned at it. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, and then again, "Oh Georgy!" and covered her +burning cheeks. + +Meanwhile Big Porges, and Small Porges, walking along hand in hand shook +their heads solemnly, wondering much upon the capriciousness of aunts, +and the waywardness thereof. + +"I wonder why she runned away, Uncle Porges?" + +"Ah, I wonder!" + +"'Specks she's a bit angry with me, you know, 'cause I told you she was +crying." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"An Auntie takes an awful lot of looking after!" sighed Small Porges. + +"Yes," nodded Bellew, "I suppose so,--especially if she happens to be +young, and--er--" + +"An' what, Uncle Porges?" + +"Beautiful, nephew." + +"Oh! Do you think she's--really beautiful?" demanded Small Porges. + +"I'm afraid I do," Bellew confessed. + +"So does Mr. Cassilis,--I heard him tell her so once--in the orchard." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"Ah! but you ought to see her when she comes to tuck me up at night, +with her hair all down, an' hanging all about her--like a shiny cloak, +you know." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"Please Uncle Porges," said Georgy, turning to look up at him, "what +makes you hum so much this morning?" + +"I was thinking, my Porges." + +"'Bout my Auntie Anthea?" + +"I do admit the soft impeachment, sir." + +"Well, I'm thinking too." + +"What is it, old chap?" + +"I'm thinking we ought to begin to find that fortune for her after +breakfast." + +"Why, it isn't quite the right season for fortune hunting, yet--at +least, not in Arcadia," answered Bellew, shaking his head. + +"Oh!--but why not?" + +"Well, the moon isn't right, for one thing." + +"The moon!" echoed Small Porges. + +"Oh yes,--we must wait for a--er--a Money Moon, you know,--surely you've +heard of a Money Moon?" + +"'Fraid not," sighed Small Porges regretfully, "but--I've heard of a +Honey-moon--" + +"They're often much the same!" nodded Bellew. + +"But when will the Money Moon come, an'--how?" + +"I can't exactly say, my Porges, but come it will one of these fine +nights. And when it does we shall know that the fortune is close by, and +waiting to be found. So, don't worry your small head about it,--just +keep your eye on your uncle." + +Betimes they came in to breakfast where Anthea awaited them at the head +of the table. Then who so demure, so gracious and self-possessed, so +sweetly sedate as she. But the Cavalier in the picture above the carved +mantel, versed in the ways of the world, and the pretty tricks and wiles +of the Beau Sex Feminine, smiled down at Bellew with an expression of +such roguish waggery as said plain as words: "We know!" And Bellew, +remembering a certain pair of slender ankles that had revealed +themselves in their hurried flight, smiled back at the cavalier, and it +was all he could do to refrain from winking outright. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +_Which tells of Miss Priscilla, of peaches, and of Sergeant Appleby late +of the 19th Hussars_ + +Small Porges was at his lessons. He was perched at the great oak table +beside the window, pen in hand, and within easy reach of Anthea who sat +busied with her daily letters and accounts. Small Porges was laboriously +inscribing in a somewhat splashed and besmeared copy-book the rather +surprising facts that: + +A stitch in time, saves nine. 9. + +That: + +The Tagus, a river in Spain. R. + +and that: + +Artaxerxes was a king of the Persians. A. + +and the like surprising, curious, and interesting items of news, his pen +making not half so many curls, and twists as did his small, red tongue. +As he wrote, he frowned terrifically, and sighed oft betwixt whiles; and +Bellew watching, where he stood outside the window, noticed that Anthea +frowned also, as she bent over her accounts, and sighed wearily more +than once. + +It was after a sigh rather more hopeless than usual that, chancing to +raise her eyes they encountered those of the watcher outside, who, +seeing himself discovered, smiled, and came to lean in at the +open window. + +"Won't they balance?" he enquired, with a nod toward the heap of bills, +and papers before her. + +"Oh yes," she answered with a rueful little smile, "but--on the wrong +side, if you know what I mean." + +"I know," he nodded, watching how her lashes curled against her cheek. + +"If only we had done better with our first crop of wheat!" she sighed. + +"Job Jagway said it was mouldy, you know,--that's why Adam punched him +in the--" + +"Georgy,--go on with your work, sir!" + +"Yes, Auntie!" And immediately Small Porges' pen began to scratch, and +his tongue to writhe and twist as before. + +"I'm building all my hopes, this year, on the hops," said Anthea, +sinking her head upon her hand, "if they should fail--" + +"Well?" enquired Bellew, with his gaze upon the soft curve of her +throat. + +"I--daren't think of it!" + +"Then don't--let us talk of something else--" + +"Yes,--of Aunt Priscilla!" nodded Anthea, "she is in the garden." + +"And pray who is Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Go and meet her." + +"But--" + +"Go and find her--in the orchard!" repeated Anthea, "Oh do go, and leave +us to our work." + +Thus it was that turning obediently into the orchard, and looking about, +Bellew presently espied a little, bright-eyed old lady who sat beneath +the shadow of "King Arthur" with a rustic table beside her upon which +stood a basket of sewing. Now, as he went, he chanced to spy a ball of +worsted that had fallen by the way, and stooping, therefore, he picked +it up, while she watched him with her quick, bright eyes. + +"Good morning, Mr. Bellew!" she said in response to his salutation, "it +was nice of you to trouble to pick up an old woman's ball of worsted." +As she spoke, she rose, and dropped him a courtesy, and then, as he +looked at her again, he saw that despite her words, and despite her +white hair, she was much younger, and prettier than he had thought. + +"I am Miss Anthea's house-keeper," she went on, "I was away when you +arrived, looking after one of Miss Anthea's old ladies,--pray be seated. +Miss Anthea,--bless her dear heart!--calls me her aunt, but I'm not +really--Oh dear no! I'm no relation at all! But I've lived with her long +enough to feel as if I was her aunt, and her uncle, and her father, and +her mother--all rolled into one,--though I should be rather small to be +so many,--shouldn't I?" and she laughed so gaily, and unaffectedly, that +Bellew laughed too. + +"I tell you all this," she went on, keeping pace to her flying needle, +"because I have taken a fancy to you--on the spot! I always like, or +dislike a person--on the spot,--first impressions you know! Y-e-e-s," +she continued, glancing up at him side-ways, "I like you just as much as +I dislike Mr. Cassilis,--heigho! how I do--detest that man! There, now +that's off my mind!" + +"And why?" enquired Bellew, smiling. + +"Dear me, Mr. Bellew I--how should I know, only I do,--and what's +more--he knows it too! And how," she enquired, changing the subject +abruptly, "how is your bed,--comfortable, mm?" + +"Very!" + +"You sleep well?" + +"Like a top!" + +"Any complaints, so far?" + +"None whatever," laughed Bellew, shaking his head. + +"That is very well. We have never had a boarder before, and Miss +Anthea,--bless her dear soul! was a little nervous about it. And here's +the Sergeant!" + +"I--er--beg your pardon--?" said Bellew. + +"The Sergeant!" repeated Miss Priscilla, with a prim little nod, +"Sergeant Appleby, late of the Nineteenth Hussars,--a soldier every inch +of him, Mr. Bellew,--with one arm--over there by the peaches." Glancing +in the direction she indicated, Bellew observed a tall figure, very +straight and upright, clad in a tight-fitting blue coat, with extremely +tight trousers strapped beneath the insteps, and with a hat balanced +upon his close-cropped, grizzled head at a perfectly impossible angle +for any save an ex-cavalry-man. Now as he stood examining a peach-tree +that flourished against the opposite wall, Bellew saw that his right +sleeve was empty, sure enough, and was looped across his broad chest. + +"The very first thing he will say will be that 'it is a very fine day,'" +nodded Miss Priscilla, stitching away faster than ever, "and the next, +that 'the peaches are doing remarkably well,'--now mark my words, Mr. +Bellew." As she spoke, the Sergeant wheeled suddenly right about face, +and came striding down towards them, jingling imaginary spurs, and with +his stick tucked up under his remaining arm, very much as if it had +been a sabre. + +Being come up to them, the Sergeant raised a stiff arm as though about +to salute them, military fashion, but, apparently changing his mind, +took off the straw hat instead, and put it on again, more over one ear +than ever. + +"A particular fine day, Miss Priscilla, for the time o' the year," said +he. + +"Indeed I quite agree with you Sergeant," returned little Miss Priscilla +with a bright nod, and a sly glance at Bellew, as much as to say, "I +told you so!" "And the peaches, mam," continued the Sergeant, "the +peaches--never looked--better, mam." Having said which, he stood looking +at nothing in particular, with his one hand resting lightly upon +his hip. + +"Yes, to be sure, Sergeant," nodded Miss Priscilla, with another sly +look. "But let me introduce you to Mr. Bellew who is staying at +Dapplemere." The Sergeant stiffened, once more began a salute, changed +his mind, took off his hat instead, and, after looking at it as though +not quite sure what to do with it next, clapped it back upon his ear, in +imminent danger of falling off, and was done with it. + +"Proud to know you, sir,--your servant, sir!" + +"How do you do!" said Bellew, and held out his hand with his frank +smile. The Sergeant hesitated, then put out his remaining hand. + +"My left, sir," said he apologetically, "can't be helped--left my +right--out in India--a good many years ago. Good place for soldiering, +India, sir--plenty of active service--chances of promotion--though +sun bad!" + +"Sergeant," said Miss Priscilla, without seeming to glance up from her +sewing, "Sergeant,--your hat!" Hereupon, the Sergeant gave a sudden, +sideways jerk of the head, and, in the very nick of time, saved the +article in question from tumbling off, and very dexterously brought it +to the top of his close-cropped head, whence it immediately began, +slowly, and by scarcely perceptible degrees to slide down to his +ear again. + +"Sergeant," said Miss Priscilla again, "sit down,--do." + +"Thank you mam," said he, and proceeded to seat himself at the other end +of the rustic bench, where he remained, bolt upright, and with his long +legs stretched out straight before him, as is, and has been, the manner +of cavalrymen since they first wore straps. + +"And now," said he, staring straight in front of him, "how might Miss +Anthea be?" + +"Oh, very well, thank you," nodded Miss Priscilla. + +"Good!" exclaimed the Sergeant, with his eyes still fixed, "very good!" +Here he passed his hand two or three times across his shaven chin, +regarding an apple-tree, nearby, with an expression of the most +profound interest: + +"And how," said he again, "how might Master Georgy be?" + +"Master Georgy is as well as ever," answered Miss Priscilla, stitching +away faster than before, and Bellew thought she kept her rosy cheeks +stooped a little lower over her work. Meanwhile the Sergeant continued +to regard the tree with the same degree of lively interest, and to rasp +his fingers to and fro across his chin. Suddenly, he coughed behind +hand, whereupon Miss Priscilla raised her head, and looked at him. + +"Well?" she enquired, very softly: + +"And pray, mam," said the Sergeant, removing his gaze from the tree with +a jerk, "how might--you be feeling, mam?" + +"Much the same as usual, thank you," she answered, smiling like a girl, +for all her white hair, as the Sergeant's eyes met hers. + +"You look," said he, pausing to cough behind his hand again, "you +look--blooming, mam,--if you'll allow the expression,--blooming,--as you +ever do, mam." + +"I'm an old woman, Sergeant, as well you know!" sighed Miss Priscilla, +shaking her head. + +"Old, mam!" repeated the Sergeant, "old, mam!--nothing of the sort, +mam!--Age has nothing to do with it.--'Tisn't the years as count.--We +aren't any older than we feel,--eh, sir?" + +"Of course not!" answered Bellew. + +"Nor than we look,--eh sir?" + +"Certainly not, Sergeant!" answered Bellew. + +"And she, sir,--she don't look--a day older than--" + +"Thirty five!" said Bellew. + +"Exactly, sir, very true! My own opinion,--thirty five exactly, sir." + +"Sergeant," said Miss Priscilla, bending over her work again, +"Sergeant,--your hat!" The Sergeant, hereupon, removed the distracting +head-gear altogether, and sat with it upon his knee, staring hard at the +tree again. Then, all at once, with a sudden gesture he drew a large, +silver watch from his pocket,--rather as if it were some weapon of +offence,--looked at it, listened to it, and then nodding his head, rose +to his feet. + +"Must be going," he said, standing very straight, and looking down at +little Miss Priscilla, "though sorry, as ever,--must be going, +mam,--Miss Priscilla mam--good day to you!" And he stretched out his +hand to her with a sudden, jerky movement. Miss Priscilla paused in her +sewing, and looked up at him with her youthful smile: + +"Must you go--so soon, Sergeant? Then Good-bye,--until to-morrow," and +she laid her very small hand in his big palm. The Sergeant stared down +at it as though he were greatly minded to raise it to his lips, instead +of doing which, he dropped it, suddenly, and turned to Bellew: + +"Sir, I am--proud to have met you. Sir, there is a poor crippled soldier +as I know,--My cottage is very small, and humble sir, but if you ever +feel like--dropping in on him, sir,--by day or night, he will +be--honoured, sir, honoured! And that's me--Sergeant Richard +Appleby--late of the Nineteenth Hussars--at your service, sir!" saying +which, he put on his hat, stiff-armed, wheeled, and strode away through +the orchard, jingling his imaginary spurs louder than ever. + +"Well?" enquired Miss Priscilla in her quick, bright way, "Well Mr. +Bellew, what do you think of him?--first impressions are always +best,--at least, I think so,--what do you think of Sergeant Appleby?" + +"I think he's a splendid fellow," said Bellew, looking after the +Sergeant's upright figure. + +"A very foolish old fellow, I think, and as stiff as one of the ram-rods +of one of his own guns!" said Miss Priscilla, but her clear, blue eyes +were very soft, and tender as she spoke. + +"And as fine a soldier as a man, I'm sure," said Bellew. + +"Why yes, he _was_ a good soldier, once upon a time, I believe,--he won +the Victoria Cross for doing something or other that was very brave, and +he wears it with all his other medals, pinned on the inside of his coat. +Oh yes, he was a fine soldier, once, but he's a very foolish old +soldier, now,--I think, and as stiff as the ram-rod of one of his own +guns. But I'm glad you like him, Mr. Bellew, and he will be proud, and +happy for you to call and see him at his cottage. And now, I suppose, it +is half past eleven, isn't it?" + +"Yes, just half past!" nodded Bellew, glancing at his watch. + +"Exact to time, as usual!" said Miss Priscilla, "I don't think the +Sergeant has missed a minute, or varied a minute in the last five +years,--you see, he is such a very methodical man, Mr. Bellew!" + +"Why then, does he come every day, at the same hour?" + +"Every day!" nodded Miss Priscilla, "it has become a matter of habit +with him." + +"Ah?" said Bellew, smiling. + +"If you were to ask me why he comes, I should answer that I fancy it is +to--look at the peaches. Dear me, Mr. Bellew! what a very foolish old +soldier he is, to be sure!" Saying which, pretty, bright-eyed Miss +Priscilla, laughed again, folded up her work, settled it in the basket +with a deft little pat, and, rising, took a small, crutch stick from +where it had lain concealed, and then, Bellew saw that she was lame. + +"Oh yes,--I'm a cripple, you see," she nodded,--"Oh very, very lame! my +ankle, you know. That is why I came here, the big world didn't want a +poor, lame, old woman,--that is why Miss Anthea made me her Aunt, God +bless her! No thank you,--I can carry my basket. So you see,--he--has +lost an arm,--his right one, and I--am lame in my foot. Perhaps that is +why--Heigho! how beautifully the black birds are singing this morning, +to be sure!" + + + +CHAPTER IX + +_In which may be found some description of Arcadia, and gooseberries_ + +Anthea, leaning on her rake in a shady corner of the five-acre field, +turned to watch Bellew who, stripped to his shirt-sleeves, bare of neck, +and arm, and pitch-fork in hand, was busy tossing up great mounds of +sweet-smelling hay to Adam who stood upon a waggon to receive it, with +Small Porges perched up beside him. + +A week had elapsed since Bellew had found his way to Dapplemere, a week +which had only served to strengthen the bonds of affection between him +and his "nephew," and to win over sharp-eyed, shrewd little Miss +Priscilla to the extent of declaring him to be: "First a gentleman, +Anthea, my dear, and Secondly,--what is much rarer, now-a-days,--a true +man!" A week! and already he was hail-fellow-well-met with everyone +about the place, for who was proof against his unaffected gaiety, his +simple, easy, good-fellowship? So he laughed, and joked as he swung his +pitch-fork, (awkwardly enough, to be sure), and received all hints, and +directions as to its use, in the kindly spirit they were tendered. And +Anthea, watching him from her shady corner, sighed once or twice, and +catching herself, so doing, stamped her foot at herself, and pulled her +sunbonnet closer about her face. + +"No, Adam," he was saying, "depend upon it, there is nothing like +exercise, and, of all exercise,--give me a pitch-fork." + +"Why, as to that, Mr. Belloo, sir," Adam retorted, "I say--so be it, so +long as I ain't near the wrong end of it, for the way you do 'ave of +flourishin' an' a whirlin' that theer fork, is fair as-tonishin', I do +declare it be." + +"Why you see, Adam, there are some born with a leaning towards +pitch-forks, as there are others born to the pen, and the--er--palette, +and things, but for me, Adam, the pitch-fork, every time!" said Bellew, +mopping his brow. + +"If you was to try an' 'andle it more as if it _was_ a pitchfork now, +Mr. Belloo, sir--" suggested Adam, and, not waiting for Bellew's +laughing rejoinder, he chirrupped to the horses, and the great waggon +creaked away with its mountainous load, surmounted by Adam's grinning +visage, and Small Porges' golden curls, and followed by the rest of the +merry-voiced hay-makers. + +Now it was, that turning his head, Bellew espied Anthea watching him, +whereupon he shouldered his fork, and coming to where she sat upon a +throne of hay, he sank down at her feet with a luxurious sigh. She had +never seen him without a collar, before, and now she could not but +notice how round, and white, and powerful his neck was, and how the +muscles bulged upon arm, and shoulder, and how his hair curled in small, +damp rings upon his brow. + +"It is good," said he, looking up into the witching face, above him, +"yes, it is very good to see you idle--just for once." + +"And I was thinking it was good to see you work,--just for once." + +"Work!" he exclaimed, "my dear Miss Anthea, I assure you I have become a +positive glutton for work. It has become my earnest desire to plant +things, and grow things, and chop things with axes; to mow things with +scythes. I dream of pastures, and ploughs, of pails and pitchforks, by +night; and, by day, reaping-hooks, hoes, and rakes, are in my thoughts +continually,--which all goes to show the effect of this wonderful air of +Arcadia. Indeed, I am as full of suppressed energy, these days, as Adam +is of the 'Old Adam.' And, talking of Adam reminds me that he has +solemnly pledged himself to initiate me into the mysteries of swinging a +scythe to-morrow morning at--five o'clock! Yes indeed, my heart bounds +responsive to the swish of a scythe in thick grass, and my soul sits +enraptured upon a pitch-fork." + +"How ridiculous you are!" she laughed. + +"And how perfectly content!" he added. + +"Is anyone ever quite content?" she sighed, glancing down at him, +wistful-eyed. + +"Not unless they have found Arcadia," he answered. + +"Have you then?" + +"Yes," he nodded complacently, "oh yes, I've found it." + +"Are you--sure?" + +"Quite sure!" + +"Arcadia!" she repeated, wrinkling her brows, "what is Arcadia +and--where?" + +"Arcadia," answered Bellew, watching the smoke rise up from his pipe, +with a dreamy eye, "Arcadia is the--Promised Land,--the Land that +everyone tries to find, sometime or other, and may be--anywhere." + +"And how came you to--find it?" + +"By the most fortunate chance in the world." + +"Tell me," said Anthea, taking a wisp of hay, and beginning to plait it +in dexterous, brown fingers, "tell me how you found it." + +"Why then you must know, in the first place," he began in his slow, even +voice, "that it is a place I have sought for in all my wanderings, and I +have been pretty far afield,--but I sought it so long, and so vainly, +that I began to think it was like the El Dorado of the old Adventurers, +and had never existed at all." + +"Yes?" said Anthea, busy with her plaiting. + +"But, one day,--Fate, or Chance, or Destiny,--or their benevolent +spirit, sent a certain square-shouldered Waggoner to show me the way, +and, after him, a very small Porges,--bless him!--to lead me into this +wonderful Arcadia." + +"Oh, I see!" nodded Anthea, very intent upon her plaiting. + +"But there is something more," said Bellew. + +"Oh?" said Anthea. + +"Shall I tell you?" + +"If--it is--very interesting." + +"Well then, in this delightful land there is a castle, grim, embattled, +and very strong." + +"A castle?" said Anthea, glancing up suddenly. + +"The Castle of Heart's Desire." + +"Oh!" said she, and gave all her attention to her plaiting again. + +"And so," continued Bellew, "I am waiting, very patiently, until, in her +own good time, she who rules within, shall open the gate to me, or--bid +me go away." + +Into Bellew's voice had crept a thrill no one had ever heard there +before; he leaned nearer to her, and his dreamy eyes were keen now, and +eager. And she, though she saw nothing of all this, yet, being a woman, +knew it was there, of course, and, for that very reason, looked +resolutely away. Wherefore, once again, Bellew heartily wished that +sunbonnets had never been invented. + +So there was silence while Anthea stared away across the golden +corn-fields, yet saw nothing of them, and Bellew looked upon those +slender, capable fingers, that had faltered in their plaiting and +stopped. And thus, upon the silence there broke a sudden voice shrill +with interest: + +"Go on, Uncle Porges,--what about the dragons? Oh, please go +on!--there's always dragons in 'chanted castles, you know, to guard the +lovely Princess,--aren't you going to have any dragons that hiss, you +know, an' spit out smoke, an' flames? Oh!--do please have a dragon." And +Small Porges appeared from the other side of the hay-mow, flushed, +and eager. + +"Certainly, my Porges," nodded Bellew, drawing the small figure down +beside him, "I was forgetting the dragons, but there they are, with +scaly backs, and iron claws, spitting out sparks and flames, just as +self-respecting dragons should, and roaring away like thunder." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Small Porges, nestling closer to Bellew, and reaching +out a hand to Auntie Anthea, "that's fine! let's have plenty +of dragons." + +"Do you think a--er--dozen would be enough, my Porges?" + +"Oh yes! But s'pose the beautiful Princess didn't open the door,--what +would you do if you were really a wandering knight who was waiting +patiently for it to open,--what would you do then?" + +"Shin up a tree, my Porges." + +"Oh but that wouldn't be a bit right--would it, Auntie?" + +"Of course not!" laughed Anthea, "it would be most un-knight-like, and +very undignified." + +"'Sides," added Small Porges, "you couldn't climb up a tree in your +armour, you know." + +"Then I'd make an awful' good try at it!" nodded Bellew. + +"No," said Small Porges, shaking his head, "shall I tell you what you +ought to do? Well then, you'd draw your two-edged sword, an' dress your +shield,--like Gareth, the Kitchen Knave did,--he was always dressing his +shield, an' so was Lancelot,--an' you'd fight all those dragons, an' +kill them, an' cut their heads off." + +"And then what would happen?" enquired Bellew. + +"Why then the lovely Princess would open the gate, an' marry you of +course, an' live happy ever after, an' all would be revelry an' joy." + +"Ah!" sighed Bellew, "if she'd do that, I think I'd fight all the +dragons that ever roared,--and kill them too. But supposing +she--er--wouldn't open the gate." + +"Why then," said Small Porges, wrinkling his brow, "why then--you'd have +to storm the castle, of course, an' break open the gate an' run off with +the Princess on your charger,--if she was very beautiful, you know." + +"A most excellent idea, my Porges! If I should happen to find myself in +like circumstances, I'll surely take your advice." + +Now, as he spoke, Bellew glanced at Anthea, and she at him. And +straightway she blushed, and then she laughed, and then she blushed +again, and, still blushing, rose to her feet, and turned to find Mr. +Cassilis within a yard of them. + +"Ah, Miss Anthea," said he, lifting his hat, "I sent Georgy to find you, +but it seems he forgot to mention that I was waiting." + +"I'm awful' sorry, Mr. Cassilis,--but Uncle Porges was telling us 'bout +dragons, you know," Small Porges hastened to explain. + +"Dragons!" repeated Mr. Cassilis, with his supercilious smile, "ah, +indeed! dragons should be interesting, especially in such a very quiet, +shady nook as this,--quite an idyllic place for story-telling, it's a +positive shame to disturb you," and his sharp, white teeth gleamed +beneath his moustache, as he spoke, and he tapped his riding-boot +lightly with his hunting-crop as he fronted Bellew, who had risen, and +stood bare-armed, leaning upon his pitch-fork. And, as in their first +meeting, there was a mute antagonism in their look. + +"Let me introduce you to each other," said Anthea, conscious of this +attitude,--"Mr. Cassilis, of Brampton Court,--Mr. Bellew!" + +"Of nowhere in particular, sir!" added Bellew. + +"And pray," said Mr. Cassilis perfunctorily as they strolled on across +the meadow, "how do you like Dapplemere, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Immensely, sir,--beyond all expression!" + +"Yes, it is considered rather pretty, I believe." + +"Lovely, sir!" nodded Bellew, "though it is not so much the beauty of +the place itself, that appeals to me so much as what it--contains." + +"Oh, indeed!" said Mr. Cassilis, with a sudden, sharp glance, "to what +do you refer?" + +"Goose-berries, sir!" + +"I--ah--beg your pardon?" + +"Sir," said Bellew gravely, "all my life I have fostered a secret +passion for goose-berries--raw, or cooked,--in pie, pudding or jam, they +are equally alluring. Unhappily the American goose-berry is but a hollow +mockery, at best--" + +"Ha?" said Mr. Cassilis, dubiously. + +"Now, in goose-berries, as in everything else, sir, there is to be found +the superlative, the quintessence,--the ideal. Consequently I have +roamed East and West, and North and South, in quest of it." + +"Really?" said Mr. Cassilis, stifling a yawn, and turning towards Miss +Anthea with the very slightest shrug of his shoulders. + +"And, in Dapplemere," concluded Bellew, solemnly, "I have, at last, +found my ideal--" + +"Goose-berry!" added Anthea with a laugh in her eyes. + +"Arcadia being a land of ideals!" nodded Bellew. + +"Ideals," said Mr. Cassilis, caressing his moustache, "ideals +and--ah--goose-berries,--though probably excellent things in themselves, +are apt to pall upon one, in time; personally, I find them equally +insipid,--" + +"Of course it is all a matter of taste!" sighed Bellew. + +"But," Mr. Cassilis went on, fairly turning his back upon him, "the +subject I wished to discuss with you, Miss Anthea, was the--er +--approaching sale." + +"The sale!" she repeated, all the brightness dying out of her face. + +"I wished," said Cassilis, leaning nearer to her, and lowering his voice +confidentially, "to try to convince you how--unnecessary it would +be--if--" and he paused, significantly. + +Anthea turned quickly aside, as though to hide her mortification from +Bellew's keen eyes; whereupon he, seeing it all, became, straightway, +more dreamy than ever, and, laying a hand upon Small Porges' shoulder, +pointed with his pitch-fork to where at the other end of the "Five-acre" +the hay-makers worked away as merrily as ever: + +"Come, my Porges," said he, "let us away and join yon happy throng, +and--er-- + + 'With Daphnis, and Clo, and Blowsabel + We'll list to the--er--cuckoo in the dell.'" + +So, hand in hand, the two Porges set off together. But when they had +gone some distance, Bellew looked back, and then he saw that Anthea +walked with her head averted, yet Cassilis walked close beside her, and +stooped, now and then, until the black moustache came very near the +curl--that curl of wanton witchery that peeped above her ear. + +"Uncle Porges--why do you frown so?" + +"Frown, my Porges,--did I? Well, I was thinking." + +"Well, I'm thinking too, only I don't frown, you know, but I'm thinking +just the same." + +"And what might you be thinking, nephew?" + +"Why I was thinking that although you're so awful fond of goose-berries, +an' though there's lots of ripe ones on the bushes I've never seen you +eat a single one." + + + +CHAPTER X + +_How Bellew and Adam entered into a solemn league and covenant_ + +"Look at the moon to-night, Uncle Porges!" + +"I see it." + +"It's awfull' big, an' round, isn't it?" + +"Yes, it's very big, and very round." + +"An'--rather--yellow, isn't it?" + +"Very yellow!" + +"Just like a great, big golden sovereign, isn't it" + +"Very much like a sovereign, my Porges." + +"Well, do you know, I was wondering--if there was any chance that it was +a--Money Moon?" + +They were leaning out at the lattice, Small Porges, and Big Porges. +Anthea and Miss Priscilla were busied upon household matters wholly +feminine, wherefore Small Porges had drawn Bellew to the window, and +there they leaned, the small body enfolded by Bellew's long arm, and the +two faces turned up to the silvery splendour of the moon. + +But now, Anthea came up behind them, and, not noticing the position of +Bellew's arm as she leaned on the other side of Small Porges, it befell +that her hand touched, and for a moment, rested upon Bellew's hand, +hidden as it was in the shadow. And this probably began it. + +The air of Arcadia, as has been said before, is an intoxicating air; but +it is more, it is an air charged with a subtle magic whereby the +commonest objects, losing their prosaic, matter-of-fact shapes, become +transfigured into things of wonder, and delight. Little things that pass +as mere ordinary common-places,--things insignificant, and wholly +beneath notice in the every day world, become fraught with such infinite +meaning, and may hold such sublime, such undreamed of possibilities +--here in Arcadia. Thus, when it is recorded that Anthea's hand +accidentally touched, and rested upon Bellew's--the significance of it +will become at once apparent. + +"And pray," said Anthea, laying that same hand in the most natural +manner in the world, upon the Small Porges' curls, "Pray what might you +two be discussing so very solemnly?" + +"The moon," answered Small Porges. "I was wondering if it was a Money +Moon, an' Uncle Porges hasn't said if it is, yet." + +"Why no, old chap," answered Bellew, "I'm afraid not." + +"And pray," said Anthea again, "what might a Money Moon be?" + +"Well," explained Small Porges, "when the moon's just--just so, then you +go out an'--an' find a fortune, you know. But the moon's got to be a +Money Moon, and you've got to know, you know, else you'll find nothing, +of course." + +"Ah Georgy dear!" sighed Anthea, stooping her dark head down to his +golden curls, "don't you know that fortunes are very hard to get, and +that they have to be worked for, and that no one ever found one without +a great deal of labour, and sorrow?" + +"'Course--everyone can't find fortunes, Auntie Anthea, I know that, but +we shall,--my Uncle Porges knows all about it, you see, an' I know that +we shall. I'm sure as sure we shall find one, some day, 'cause, you see, +I put it in my prayers now,--at the end, you know. I say: 'An' please +help me an' my Uncle Porges to find a fortune when the Money Moon +comes,--a big one, world without end--Amen!' So you see, it's all right, +an' we're just waiting till the Money Moon comes, aren't we, +Uncle Porges?" + +"Yes, old chap, yes," nodded Bellew, "until the Money Moon comes." + +And so there fell a silence between them, yet a silence that held a +wondrous charm of its own; a silence that lasted so long that the +coppery curls drooped lower, and lower upon Bellew's arm, until Anthea, +sighing, rose, and in a very tender voice bade Small Porges say +'Goodnight!' the which he did, forthwith, slumberous of voice, and +sleepy eyed, and so, with his hand in Anthea's, went drowsily up to bed. + +Wherefore, seeing that Miss Priscilla had bustled away into the kitchen, +Bellew sauntered out into the rose-garden to look upon the beauty of the +night. The warm air was fragrant with dewy scents, and the moon, already +high above the tree-tops, poured down her gentle radiance upon the +quaint, old garden with its winding walks, and clipped yew hedges, while +upon the quiet, from the dim shadow of the distant woods, stole the +soft, sweet song of a nightingale. + +Bellew walked a path bordered with flowers, and checkered with silver +patches of moon-light, drinking in the thousand beauties about him, +staring up at the glory of the moon, the indigo of the sky, and +listening to the voice of the lonely singer in the wood. And yet it was +of none of these he was thinking as he paused under the shadow of "King +Arthur,"--nor of Small Porges, nor of any one or anything in this world +but only of the sudden, light touch of a warm, soft hand upon his. "Be +that you, sir?" Bellew started and now he found that he had been +sitting, all this while, with an empty pipe between his teeth, yet +content therewith; wherefore he shook his head, and wondered. + +"Be that you, Mr. Beloo, sir?" + +"Yes Adam, it is I." + +"Ah! an' how might you be feelin' now--arter your exercise wi' the +pitch-fork, sir?" + +"Very fit, I thank you, Adam. Sit down, and smoke, and let us converse +together." + +"Why thankee sir," answered Adam, producing the small, black clay pipe +from his waistcoat pocket, and accepting Bellew's proffered pouch. "I've +been up to the 'ouse a visitin' Prudence, the cook,--an' a rare cook she +be, too, Mr. Beloo sir!" + +"And a rare buxom girl into the bargain, Adam!" + +"Oh, ah!--she's well enough, sir; I won't go for to deny as she's a +fine, up-standing, well-shaped, tall, an' proper figure of a woman as +ever was, sir,--though the Kentish lasses be a tidy lot, Mr. Beloo sir. +But, Lord! when you come to think of her gift for Yorkshire Puddin', +likewise jam-rollers, and seed-cake,--(which, though mentioned last, +ain't by no manner o' means least),--when you come to think of her brew +o' ale, an' cider, an' ginger wine,--why then--I'm took, sir, I'm took +altogether, an' the 'Old Adam' inside o' me works hisself into such a +state that if another chap--'specially that there Job Jagway gets +lookin' her way too often, why it's got to get took out o' him, or took +out o' me in good 'ard knocks, Mr. Belloo, sir." + +"And when are you going to get married, Adam?" + +"Well sir, we was thinkin' that if Miss Anthea has a good season, this +year, we'd get it over an' done wi' some time in October, sir,--but it's +all accordin'." + +"According to what?" + +"To the 'ops, sir,--the H-O-P-S--'ops, sir. They're comin' on fine,--ah! +scrumptuous they be! If they don't take the blight, sir, they'll be the +finest 'ops this side o' Maidstone. But then, if they do take the +blight,--why then my 'opes is blighted likewise sir,--B-L-I-T-E-D, +--blighted, Mr. Belloo sir!" which said, Adam laughed once, nodded his +head several times, and relapsed into puffing silence. + +"Mr. Cassilis was over to-day, Adam," said Bellew, after a while +pursuing a train of thought. + +"Ah sir!--I seen him,--'e also seen me. 'E told me as Job Jagway was up +and about again,--likewise Job Jagway will be over 'ere to-morrow, along +wi' the rest of 'em for the sale, sir." + +"Ah yes,--the sale!" said Bellew, thoughtfully. + +"To think o' that there Job Jagway a coming over here to buy Miss +Anthea's furnitur' do set the Old Adam a workin' inside o' me to that +amazin' extent as I can't sit still, Mr. Belloo sir! If that there Job +crosses my path to-morrer--well--let 'im--look out, that's all!" saying +which, Adam doubled up a huge, knotted fist and shook it at an +imaginary Job. + +"Adam," said Bellew, in the same thoughtful tone, "I wonder if you would +do something for me?" + +"Anything you ax me, sir, so long as you don't want me to--" + +"I want you to buy some of that furniture for me." + +"What!" exclaimed Adam, and vented his great laugh again, "well, if that +ain't a good 'un, sir! why that's just w'ot I'm a going to do! Ye see, I +ain't w'ot you might call a rich cove, nor yet a millionaire, but I've +got a bit put by, an' I drawed out ten pound, yesterday. Thinks +I,--'here's to save Miss Anthea's old sideboard, or the mirror as she's +so fond of, or if not--why then a cheer or so,--they ain't a going to +get it all,--not while I've got a pound or two,' I sez to myself." + +"Adam," said Bellew, turning suddenly, "that sentiment does you credit, +that sentiment makes me proud to have knocked you into a ditch,--shake +hands, Adam." And there, beneath the great apple tree, while the moon +looked on, they very solemnly shook hands. + +"And now, Adam," pursued Bellew, "I want you to put back your ten +pounds, keep it for Prudence,--because I happen to have rather more than +we shall want,--see here!" And, with the words, Bellew took out a +leathern wallet, and from this wallet, money, and bank-notes,--more +money, and more bank-notes than Adam had ever beheld in all his thirty +odd years, at sight of which his eyes opened, and his square jaw +relaxed, to the imminent danger of his cherished clay pipe. + +"I want you to take this," Bellew went on, counting a sum into Adam's +nerveless hand, "and to-morrow, when the sale begins, if any one makes a +bid for anything, I want you to bid higher, and, no matter what, you +must always buy--always, you understand?" + +"But sir,--that there old drorin'-room cab'net wi' the--carvings--" + +"Buy it!" + +"An' the silver candle-sticks,--and the four-post bed-stead,--an' the--" + +"Buy 'em, Adam,--buy everything! If we haven't enough money there's +plenty more where this came from,--only buy!--You understand?" + +"Oh yes sir, I understand! 'Ow much 'ave you give me? Why, +here's--forty-five,--fifty,--sixty,--Lord!--" + +"Put it away, Adam,--forget all about it till to-morrow,--and not a +word, mind!" + +"A hundred pound!" gasped Adam, "Lord!--Oh I won't speak of it, trust +me, Mr. Belloo, sir! But to think of me a walking about wi' a hundred +pound in my pocket,--Lord! I won't say nothing--but to think of Old Adam +wi' a hundred pound in his pocket, e'Cod! it do seem that comical!" +saying which, Adam buttoned the money into a capacious pocket, slapped +it, nodded, and rose. "Well sir, I'll be going,--there be Miss Anthea in +the garden yonder, and if she was to see me now there's no sayin' but I +should be took a laughin' to think o' this 'ere hundred pound." + +"Miss Anthea!--where?" + +"Comin' through the rose-gardin. She be off to see old Mother Dibbin. +They call Mother Dibbin a witch, an' now as she's down wi' the +rheumatics there ain't nobody to look arter 'er,--'cept Miss +Anthea,--she'd ha' starved afore now if it 'adn't been for Miss Anthea, +but Lord love your eyes, an' limbs, Mr. Belloo sir! Miss Anthea don't +care if she's a witch, or fifty witches, not she! So good-night, Mr. +Belloo sir, an' mum's the word!" + +Saying which, Adam slapped his pocket again, nodded, winked, and went +upon his way. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +_Of the "Man with the Tiger Mark"_ + +It is a moot question as to whether a curl can be more alluring when it +glows beneath the fiery kisses of the sun, or shines demurely in the +tender radiance of the moon. As Bellew looked at it now,--that same +small curl that nodded and beckoned to him above Anthea's left ear,--he +strongly inclined to the latter opinion. + +"Adam tells me that you are going out, Miss Anthea." + +"Only as far as Mrs. Dibbin's cottage,--just across the meadow." + +"Adam also informs me that Mrs. Dibbin is a witch." + +"People call her so." + +"Never in all my days have I seen a genuine, old witch,--so I'll come +with you, if I may?" + +"Oh, this is a very gentle old witch, and she is neither humpbacked, nor +does she ride a broom-stick,--so I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, +Mr. Bellew." + +"Then, at least, I can carry your basket,--allow me!" And so, in his +quiet, masterful fashion he took the basket from her arm, and walked on +beside her, through the orchard. + +"What a glorious night it is!" exclaimed Anthea suddenly, drawing a deep +breath of the fragrant air,--"Oh! it is good to be alive! In spite of +all the cares, and worries, life is very sweet!" + +After this, they walked on some distance in silence, she gazing +wistfully upon the beauties of the familiar world about her while he +watched the curl above her ear until she, becoming aware of it all at +once, promptly sent it back into retirement, with a quick, deft little +pat of her fingers. + +"I hope," said Bellew at last, "I do sincerely hope that you 'tucked up' +my nephew safe in bed,--you see--" + +"Your nephew, indeed!" + +"Our nephew, then; I ask because he tells me that he can't possibly +sleep unless you go to 'tuck him up,'--and I can quite believe it." + +"Do you know, Mr. Bellew, I'm growing quite jealous of you, he can't +move a step without you, and he is for ever talking, and lauding your +numberless virtues!" + +"But then--I'm only an uncle, after all, and if he talks of me to you, +he talks of you to me, all day long." + +"Oh, does he!" + +"And, among other things, he told me that I ought to see you when your +hair is down, and all about you." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Anthea. + +"Indeed, our nephew is much luckier than I, because I never had an aunt +of my own to come and 'tuck me up' at night with her hair hanging all +about her--like a beautiful cloak. So, you see, I have no boyish +recollections to go upon, but I think I can imagine--" + +"And what do you think of the Sergeant?" Anthea enquired, changing the +subject abruptly. + +"I like him so much that I am going to take him at his word, and call +upon him at the first opportunity." + +"Did Aunt Priscilla tell you that he comes marching along regularly +every day, at exactly the same hour?" + +"Yes,--to see how the peaches are getting on!" nodded Bellew. + +"For such a very brave soldier he is a dreadful coward," said Anthea, +smiling, "it has taken him five years to screw up courage enough to tell +her that she's uncommonly young for her age. And yet, I think it is just +that diffidence that makes him so lovable. And he is so simple, and so +gentle--in spite of all his war medals. When I am moody, and cross, the +very sight of him is enough to put me in humour again." + +"Has he never--spoken to Miss Priscilla,--?" + +"Never,--though, of course, she knows, and has done from the very first. +I asked him once, why he had never told her what it was brought him so +regularly,--to look at the peaches,--and he said, in his quick, sharp +way: 'Miss Anthea,--can't be done, mam,--a poor, battered, old +soldier,--only one arm,--no mam.'" + +"I wonder if one could find just such another Sergeant outside Arcadia," +said Bellew, "I wonder!" + +Now they were approaching a stile towards which Bellew had directed his +eyes, from time to time, as, for that matter, curiously enough, had +Anthea; but to him it seemed that it never would be reached, while to +her, it seemed that it would be reached much too soon. Therefore she +began to rack her mind trying to remember some gate, or any gap in the +hedge that should obviate the necessity of climbing it. But, before she +could recall any such gate, or gap, they were at the stile, and Bellew, +leaping over, had set down the basket, and stretched out his hand to aid +her over. But Anthea, tall, and lithe, active and vigorous with her +outdoor life, and used to such things from her infancy, stood a moment +hesitating. To be sure, the stile was rather high, yet she could have +vaulted it nearly, if not quite, as easily as Bellew himself, had she +been alone. But then, she was not alone, moreover, be it remembered, +this was in Arcadia of a mid-summer night. Thus, she hesitated, only a +moment, it is true, for, seeing the quizzical look in his eyes that +always made her vaguely rebellious,--with a quick, light movement, she +mounted the stile, and there paused to shake her head in laughing +disdain of his out-stretched hand; then--there was the sound of rending +cambric, she tripped, and, next moment, he had caught her in his arms. +It was for but a very brief instant that she lay, soft and yielding, in +his embrace, yet she was conscious of how strong were the arms that held +her so easily, ere they set her down. + +"I beg your pardon!--how awkward I am!" she exclaimed, in hot +mortification. + +"No," said Bellew, shaking his head, "it was a nail, you know, a bent, +and rusty nail,--here, under the top bar. Is your dress much torn?" + +"Oh, that is nothing, thank you!" + +So they went on again, but now they were silent once more, and very +naturally, for Anthea was mightily angry,--with herself, the stile, +Bellew, and everything concerned; while he was thinking of the sudden, +warm clasp of her arms, of the alluring fragrance of her hair, and of +the shy droop of her lashes as she lay in his embrace. Therefore, as he +walked on beside her, saying nothing, within his secret soul he poured +benedictions upon the head of that bent, and rusty nail. + +And presently, having turned down a grassy lane and crossed a small but +very noisy brook that chattered impertinences among the stones and +chuckled at them slyly from the shadows, they eventually came upon a +small, and very lonely little cottage bowered in roses and +honeysuckle,--as are all the cottages hereabouts. But now Anthea paused, +looking at Bellew with a dubious brow. + +"I ought to warn you that Mrs. Dibbin is very old, and sometimes a +little queer, and sometimes says very--surprising things." + +"Excellent!" nodded Bellew, holding the little gate open for her, "very +right and proper conduct in a witch, and I love surprises above +all things." + +But Anthea still hesitated, while Bellew stood with his hand upon the +gate, waiting for her to enter. Now he had left his hat behind him, and, +as the moon shone down on his bare head, she could not but notice how +bright, and yellow was his hair, despite the thick, black brows below. + +"I think I--would rather you waited outside,--if you don't mind, Mr. +Bellew." + +"You mean that I am to be denied the joy of conversing with a real, +live, old witch, and having my fortune told?" he sighed. "Well, if such +is your will--so be it," said he obediently, and handed her the basket. + +"I won't keep you waiting very long,--and--thank you!" she smiled, and, +hurrying up the narrow path, she tapped at the cottage door. + +"Come in! come in!" cried an old, quavering voice, albeit, very sharp, +and piercing. "That be my own soft dove of a maid,--my proud, beautiful, +white lady! Come in! come in!--and bring him wi' you,--him as is so big, +and strong,--him as I've expected so long,--the tall, golden man from +over seas. Bid him come in, Miss Anthea, that Goody Dibbin's old eyes +may look at him at last." + +Hereupon, at a sign from Anthea, Bellew turned in at the gate, and +striding up the path, entered the cottage. + +Despite the season, a fire burned upon the hearth, and crouched over +this, in a great elbow-chair, sat a very bent, and aged woman. Her face +was furrowed, and seamed with numberless lines and wrinkles, but her +eyes were still bright, and she wore no spectacles; likewise her white +hair was wonderfully thick, and abundant, as could plainly be seen +beneath the frill of her cap, for, like the very small room of this very +small cottage, she was extremely neat, and tidy. She had a great, +curving nose, and a great, curving chin, and what with this and her +bright, black eyes, and stooping figure, she was very much like what a +witch should be,--albeit a very superior kind of old witch. + +She sat, for a while, staring up at Bellew who stood tall, and +bare-headed, smiling down at her; and then, all at once, she nodded her +head three several, and distinct times. + +"Right!" she quavered, "right! right,--it be all right!--the golden man +as I've watched this many an' many a day, wi' the curly hair, and the +sleepy eye, and the Tiger-mark upon his arm,--right! right!" + +"What do you mean by 'Tiger-mark?'" enquired Bellew. + +"I mean, young master wi' your golden curls,--I mean as, sitting here +day in, and day out, staring down into my fire, I has my +dreams,--leastways, I calls 'em my dreams, though there's them as calls +it the 'second sight.' But pray sit down, tall sir, on the stool there; +and you, my tender maid, my dark lady, come you here--upon my right, +and, if you wish, I'll look into the ink, or read your pretty hand, or +tell you what I see down there in the fire. But no,--first, show what +you have brought for Old Nannie in the blessed basket,--the fine, strong +basket as holds so much. Yes, set it down here--where I can open it +myself, tall sir. Eh,--what's this?--Tea! God bless you for the tea, my +dear! And eggs, and butter,--and a cold chicken!--the Lord bless your +kind heart, Miss Anthea! Ah, my proud lady, happy the man who shall win +ye! Happy the man who shall wed ye, my dark, beautiful maid. And strong +must he be, aye, and masterful he who shall wake the love-light in those +dark, great, passionate eyes of yours. And there is no man in all this +world can do it but he must be a golden man--wi' the Tiger-mark +upon him." + +"Why--oh Nannie--!" + +"Aye,--blush if ye will, my dark lady, but Mother Dibbin knows she's +seen it in the fire, dreamed it in her dreams, and read it in the ink. +The path lies very dark afore ye, my lady,--aye very dark it be, and +full o' cares, and troubles, but there's the sun shining +beyond,--bright, and golden. You be proud, and high, and scornful, my +lady,--'tis in your blood,--you'll need a strong hand to guide ye,--and +the strong hand shall come. By force you shall be wooed, and by force +you shall be wed,--and there be no man strong enough to woo, and wed ye, +but him as I've told ye of--him as bears the Tiger-mark." + +"But Nannie," said Anthea again, gently interrupting her, and patting +the old woman's shrivelled hand, "you're forgetting the basket,--you +haven't found all we've brought you, yet." + +"Aye, aye!" nodded old Nannie, "the fine, strong basket,--let's see what +more be in the good, kind basket. Here's bread, and sugar,--and--" + +"A pound of your favourite tobacco!" said Anthea, with a smiling nod. + +"Oh the good weed! The blessed weed!" cried the old woman, clutching the +package with trembling fingers. "Ah! who can tell the comfort it has +been to me in the long, long days, and the long, long nights,--the +blessed weed! when I've sat here a looking and a looking into the fire. +God bless you, my sweet maid, for your kindly thought!" and, with a +sudden gesture, she caught Anthea's hand to her lips, and then, just as +suddenly turned upon Bellew. + +"And now, tall sir, can I do ought for ye? Shall I look into the fire +for ye, or the ink, or read your hand?" + +"Why yes," answered Bellew, stretching out his hand to her, "you shall +tell me two things, if you will; first, shall one ever find his way into +the 'Castle of Heart's Desire,' and secondly;--When?" + +"Oh, but I don't need to look into your hand to tell you that, tall sir, +nor yet in the ink, or in the fire, for I've dreamed it all in my +dreams. And now, see you, 'tis a strong place, this Castle,--wi' thick +doors, and great locks, and bars. But I have seen those doors broke' +down,--those great locks, and bars burst asunder,--but--there is none +can do this but him as bears the Tiger-Mark. So much for the first. And, +for the second,--Happiness shall come a riding to you on the full +moon,--but you must reach up--and take it for yourself,--if you be +tall enough." + +"And--even you are not tall enough to do that, Mr. Bellew!" laughed +Anthea, as she rose to bid Old Nannie "Good-night," while Bellew, +unnoticed, slipped certain coins upon a corner of the chimney-piece. So, +old Nannie blessed them, and theirs,--past, present, and future, +thoroughly and completely, with a fine comprehensiveness that only a +genuinely accomplished old witch might hope to attain to, and, following +them to the door, paused there with one shrivelled, claw-like hand +up-lifted towards the sky: + +"At the full o' the moon, tall sir!" she repeated, "at the full o' the +moon! As for you, my dark-eyed lady, I say, by force you shall be wooed, +and by force ye shall be wed, aye! aye!--but there is no man strong +enough except he have the Tiger-Mark upon him. Old Nannie knows,--she's +seen it in the ink, dreamed it in the fire, and read it all in your +pretty hand. And now--thank ye for the tea, my pretty, and God bless ye +for the good weed, and just so sure as you've been good, and kind to old +Nannie, so shall Fortune be good and kind to you, Miss Anthea." + +"Poor old Nannie!" said Anthea, as they went on down the grassy lane, +"she is so very grateful for so little. And she is such a gentle old +creature really, though the country folk do call her a witch and are +afraid of her because they say she has the 'evil eye,'--which is +ridiculous, of course! But nobody ever goes near her, and she is +dreadfully lonely, poor old thing!" + +"And so that is why you come to sit with her, and let her talk to you?" +enquired Bellew, staring up at the moon. + +"Yes." + +"And do you believe in her dreams, and visions?" + +"No,--of course not!" answered Anthea, rather hurriedly, and with a +deeper colour in her cheeks, though Bellew was still intent upon the +moon. "You don't either,--do you?" she enquired, seeing he was silent. + +"Well, I don't quite know," he answered slowly, "but she is rather a +wonderful old lady, I think." + +"Yes, she has wonderful thick hair still," nodded Anthea, "and she's not +a bit deaf, and her eyes are as clear, and sharp as ever they were." + +"Yes, but I wasn't meaning her eyes, or her hair, or her hearing." + +"Oh,--then pray what were you pleased to mean?" + +"Did you happen to notice what she said about a--er--Man with, +a--Tiger-Mark?" enquired Bellew, still gazing up at the moon. + +Anthea laughed: + +"The Man with the Tiger-Mark,--of course! he has been much in her +dreams, lately, and she has talked of him a great deal,--" + +"Has she?" said Bellew, "ha!" + +"Yes,--her mind is full of strange twists, and fancies,--you see she is +so very old,--and she loves to tell me her dreams, and read the +future for me." + +"Though, of course, you don't believe it," said Bellew. + +"Believe it!" Anthea repeated, and walked some dozen paces, or so, +before she answered,--"no, of course not." + +"Then--none of your fortune,--nothing she told you has ever come true?" + +Once more Anthea hesitated, this time so long that Bellew turned from +his moon-gazing to look at her. + +"I mean," he went on, "has none of it ever come true,--about this Man +with the Tiger-Mark, for instance?" + +"No,--oh no!" answered Anthea, rather hastily, and laughed again. "Old +Nannie has seen him in her dreams--everywhere,--in India, and Africa, +and China; in hot countries, and cold countries--oh! Nannie has seen him +everywhere, but I have seen him--nowhere, and, of course, I +never shall." + +"Ah!" said Bellew, "and she reads him always in your fortune, does she?" + +"And I listen very patiently," Anthea nodded, "because it pleases her so +much, and it is all so very harmless, after all, isn't it?" + +"Yes," answered Bellew, "and very wonderful!" + +"Wonderful?--poor old Nannie's fancies!--What do you mean by wonderful?" + +"Upon my word, I hardly know," said Bellew, shaking his head, "but +'there are more things in heaven, and earth,' etc., you know, and this +is one of them." + +"Really!--now you grow mysterious, Mr. Bellew." + +"Like the night!" he answered, turning to aid her across the impertinent +brook that chuckled at them, and laughed after them, as only such a very +impertinent brook possibly could. + +So, betimes, they reached the stile, and crossed it, this time without +mishap, despite the lurking nail and, all too soon for Bellew, had +traversed the orchard, and were come to the garden where the roses all +hung so still upon their stems that they might have been asleep, and +filling the air with the perfume of their dreams. + +And here they paused, perhaps because of the witchery of the moon, +perhaps to listen to the voice of the nightingale who sang on more +gloriously than ever. Yet, though they stood so close together, their +glances seldom met, and they were very silent. But at last, as though +making up her mind, Anthea spoke: + +"What did you mean when you said Old Nannie's dreams were so wonderful?" +she asked. + +"I'll show you!" he answered, and, while he spoke, slipped off his coat, +and drawing up his shirt-sleeve, held out a muscular, white arm towards +her. He held it out in the full radiance of the moon, and thus, looking +down at it, her eyes grew suddenly wide, and her breath caught strangely +as surprise gave place to something else; for there, plain to be seen +upon the white flesh, were three long scars that wound up from elbow to +shoulder. And so, for a while, they stood thus, she looking at his arm, +and he at her. + +"Why--" said she at last, finding voice in a little gasp,--"why then--" + +"I am the Man with the Tiger Mark!" he said, smiling his slow, placid +smile. Now, as his eyes looked down into hers, she flushed sudden, and +hot, and her glance wavered, and fell beneath his. + +"Oh!" she cried, and, with the word, turned about, and fled from him +into the house. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +_In which may be found a full, true, and particular account of the sale_ + +"Uncle Porges, there's a little man in the hall with a red, red nose, +an' a blue, blue chin,--" + +"Yes, I've seen him,--also his nose, and chin, my Porges." + +"But he's sticking little papers with numbers on them, all over my +Auntie Anthea's chairs,--an' tables. Now what do you s'pose he's doing +that for?" + +"Who knows? It's probably all on account of his red nose, and blue chin, +my Porges. Anyway, don't worry about him,--let us rather, find our +Auntie Anthea." + +They found her in the hall. And it _was_ a hall, here, at Dapplemere, +wide, and high, and with a minstrel's gallery at one end; a hall that, +years and years ago, had often rung with the clash of men-at-arms, and +echoed with loud, and jovial laughter, for this was the most ancient +part of the Manor. + +It looked rather bare, and barren, just now, for the furniture was all +moved out of place,--ranged neatly round the walls, and stacked at the +farther end, beneath the gallery where the little man in question, blue +of chin, and red of nose, was hovering about it, dabbing little tickets +on chairs, and tables,--even as Small Porges had said. + +And, in the midst of it all, stood Anthea, a desolate figure, Bellew +thought, who, upon his entrance, bent her head to draw on her driving +gloves, for she was waiting for the dog-cart which was to bear her, and +Small Porges to Cranbrook, far away from the hollow tap of the +auctioneer's hammer. + +"We're getting rid of some of the old furniture, you see, Mr. Bellew," +she said, laying her hand on an antique cabinet nearby,--"we really have +much more than we ever use." + +"Yes," said Bellew. But he noticed that her eyes were very dark and +wistful, despite her light tone, and that she had laid her hand upon the +old cabinet with a touch very like a caress. + +"Why is that man's nose so awful' red, and his chin so blue, Auntie +Anthea?" enquired Small Porges, in a hissing stage whisper. + +"Hush Georgy!--I don't know," said Anthea. + +"An' why is he sticking his little numbers all over our best furniture!" + +"That is to guide the auctioneer." + +"Where to,--an' what is an auctioneer?" + +But, at this moment, hearing the wheels of the dog-cart at the door, +Anthea turned, and hastened out into the sunshine. + +"A lovely day it do be for drivin'," said Adam touching his hat, "an' +Bess be thinkin' the same, I do believe!" and he patted the glossy coat +of the mare, who arched her neck, and pawed the gravel with an impatient +hoof. Lightly, and nimbly Anthea swung herself up to the high seat, +turning to make Small Porges secure beside her, as Bellew handed him up. + +"You'll--look after things for me, Adam?" said Anthea, glancing back +wistfully into the dim recesses of the cool, old hall. + +"Aye,--I will that, Miss Anthea!" + +"Mr. Bellew, we can find room for you if you care to come with us?" + +"Thanks," said he, shaking his head, "but I rather think I'll stay here, +and--er--help Adam to--to--look after things, if you don't mind." + +"Then,--'Good-bye!'" said Anthea, and, nodding to Adam, he gave the mare +her head, and off they went. + +"Good-bye!" cried Small Porges, "an' thank you for the shilling Uncle +Porges." + +"The mare is--er--rather fresh this morning, isn't she, Adam?" enquired +Bellew, watching the dog-cart's rapid course. + +"Fresh sir?" + +"And that's rather a--er--dangerous sort of thing for a woman to drive, +isn't it?" + +"Meanin' the dog-cart, sir?" + +"Meaning the dog-cart, Adam." + +"Why, Lord love ye, Mr. Belloo sir!" cried Adam with his great laugh, +"there ain't nobody can 'andle the ribbons better than Miss +Anthea,--there ain't a horse as she can't drive,--ah! or ride, for that +matter,--not no-wheres, sir." + +"Hum!" said Bellew, and, having watched the dog-cart out of sight, he +turned and followed Adam into the stables. + +And here, sitting upon a bale of hay, they smoked many pipes together in +earnest converse, until such time as the sale should begin. + +As the day advanced, people began arriving in twos and threes, and, +among the first, the Auctioneer himself. A jovial-faced man, was this +Auctioneer, with jovial manner, and a jovial smile. Indeed, his +joviality seemed, somehow or other, to have got into the very buttons of +his coat, for they fairly winked, and twinkled with joviality. Upon +catching sight of the furniture he became, if possible, more jovial than +ever, and beckoning to his assistant,--that is to say to the small man +with the red nose and the blue chin, who, it seemed answered to the name +of Theodore,--he clapped him jovially upon the back,--(rather as though +he were knocking him down to some unfortunate bidder),--and immediately +fell into business converse with him,--albeit jovial still. + +But all the while intending purchasers were arriving; they came on +horse, and afoot, and in conveyances of every sort and kind, and the +tread of their feet, and the buzz of their voices awoke unwonted echoes +in the old place. And still they came, from far and near, until some +hundred odd people were crowded into the hall. + +Conspicuous among them was a large man with a fat, red neck which he was +continually mopping at, and rubbing with a vivid bandanna handkerchief +scarcely less red. Indeed, red seemed to be his pervading colour, for +his hair was red, his hands were red, and his face, heavy and round, was +reddest of all, out of whose flaming circumference two diminutive but +very sharp eyes winked and blinked continually. His voice, like himself, +was large with a peculiar brassy ring to it that penetrated to the +farthest corners and recesses of the old hall. He was, beyond all doubt, +a man of substance, and of no small importance, for he was greeted +deferentially on all hands, and it was to be noticed that people elbowed +each other to make way for him, as people ever will before substance, +and property. To some of them he nodded, to some he spoke, and with +others he even laughed, albeit he was of a solemn, sober, and serious +nature, as becomes a man of property, and substance. + +Between whiles, however, he bestowed his undivided attention upon the +furniture. He sat down suddenly and heavily, in chairs; he pummelled +them with his plump, red fists,--whereby to test their springs; he +opened the doors of cabinets; he peered into drawers; he rapped upon +tables, and altogether comported himself as a thoroughly knowing man +should, who is not to be hocussed by veneer, or taken in by the shine, +and splendour of well applied bees-wax. Bellew, watching all this from +where he sat screened from the throng by a great carved sideboard, and +divers chairs, and whatnots,--drew rather harder at his pipe, and, +chancing to catch Adam's eye, beckoned him to approach. + +"Who is that round, red man, yonder, Adam?" he enquired, nodding to +where the individual in question was engaged at that moment poking at +something or other with a large, sausage-like finger. + +"That!" replied Adam in a tone of profound disgust, "that be Mr. Grimes, +o' Cranbrook, sir. Calls hisself a corn-chandler,--but I calls +'im,--well, never mind what, sir,--only it weren't at corn-chandling as +'e made all 'is money, sir,--and it be him as we all work, and slave +for,--here at Dapplemere Farm." + +"What do you mean, Adam?" + +"I mean as it be him as holds the mortgage on Dapplemere, sir." + +"Ah,--and how much?" + +"Over three thousand pound, Mr. Belloo sir!" sighed Adam, with a +hopeless shake of the head, "an' that be a powerful lot o' money, sir." + +Bellew thought of the sums he had lavished upon his yacht, upon his +three racing cars, and certain other extravagances. Three thousand +pounds,--fifteen thousand dollars! It would make her a free +woman,--independent,--happy! Just fifteen thousand dollars,--and he had +thrown away more than that upon a poker game, before now! + +"Lord!" exclaimed Adam, "the very sight o' that theer Grimes's pig eyes +a-starin' at Miss Anthea's furnitur' do make the Old Adam rise up in me +to that amazin' extent, Mr. Belloo sir--why, jest look at 'im a-thumpin' +an' a poundin' at that theer chair!" Saying which, Adam turned, and +elbowing his way to where Mr. Grimes was in the act of testing the +springs of an easy chair, he promptly,--and as though forced by a +struggling mob,--fell up against Mr. Grimes, and jostled Mr. Grimes, and +trod heavily upon the toes of Mr. Grimes, and all with an expression of +the most profound unconsciousness and abstraction, which, upon the +indignant Corn-chandler's loud expostulations, immediately changed to a +look of innocent surprise. + +"Can't you look where you're going?--you clumsy fool!" fumed the irate +Grimes, redder of neck than ever. + +"Ax your pardon, Mr. Grimes," said Adam solemnly, "but what wi' people's +legs, an' cheer legs, an' the legs o' tables,--not to mention sideboards +an' cab'nets,--which, though not 'aving no legs, ain't to be by no +manner o' means despised therefore,--w'ot wi' this an' that, an' +t'other, I am that con-fined, or as you might say, con-fused, I don't +know which legs is mine, or yourn, or anybody else's. Mr. Grimes sir,--I +makes so bold as to ax your pardon all over again, sir." During which +speech, Adam contrived, once more, to fall against, to tread upon, and +to jostle the highly incensed Mr. Grimes back into the crowd again. +Thereafter he became a Nemesis to Mr. Grimes, haunting him through the +jungle of chairs, and tables, pursuing him into distant corners, and +shady places, where, so sure as the sausage-like finger poised itself +for an interrogatory poke, or the fat, red fist doubled itself for a +spring-testing punch, the innocent-seeming Adam would thereupon fall +against him from the rear, sideways, or in front. + +Meanwhile, Bellew sat in his secluded corner, watching the crowd through +the blue wreaths of his pipe, but thinking of her who, brave though she +was, had nevertheless run away from it all at the last moment. +Presently, however, he was aware that the Corn-chandler had seated +himself on the other side of the chiffonier, puffing, and panting with +heat, and indignation,--where he was presently joined by another +individual,--a small, rat-eyed man, who bid Mr. Grimes a deferential +"Good-day!" + +"That there Adam," puffed the Corn-chandler, "that there Adam ought to +be throwed out into the stables where he belongs. I never see a man as +was so much growed to feet and elbers, in all my days! He ought to be +took," repeated the Corn-chandler, "and shook, and throwed out into +the yard." + +"Yes," nodded the other, "took, and shook, and throwed out--neck, and +crop, sir! And now,--what might you think o' the furniture, Mr. Grimes?" + +"So so, Parsons," nodded Grimes, "so so!" + +"Shall you buy?" + +"I am a-going," said the Corn-chandler with much deliberation, "I am +a-going to take them tapestry cheers, sir, likewise the grand-feyther +clock in the corner here, likewise the four-post bed-stead wi' the +carved 'ead-board,--and--most particular, Parsons, I shall take this +here side-board. There ain't another piece like this in the county, as I +know of,--solid ma-hogany, sir!--and the carvings!" and herewith, he +gave two loud double knocks upon the article of furniture in question. +"Oh! I've 'ad my eye on this side-board for years, and years,--knowed +I'd get it some day, too,--the only wonder is as she ain't had to sell +up afore now." + +"Meaning Miss Anthea, sir?" + +"Ah,--her! I say as it's a wonder to me,--wo't wi' the interest on the +mortgage I 'old on the place, and one thing and another,--it's a wonder +to me as she's kept her 'ead above water so long. But--mark me, Parsons, +mark me,--she'll be selling again soon, and next time it'll be lock, +stock, and barrel, Parsons!" + +"Well, I don't 'old wi' women farmers, myself!" nodded Parsons. +"But,--as to that cup-board over there,--Sheraton, I think,--what might +you suppose it to be worth,--betwixt friends, now?" enquired Parsons, +the rat eyed. + +"Can't say till I've seed it, and likewise felt it," answered the +Corn-chandler, rising. "Let me lay my 'and upon it, and I'll tell +you--to a shilling," and here, they elbowed their way into the crowd. +But Bellew sat there, chin in hand, quite oblivious to the fact that his +pipe was out, long since. + +The tall, old grand-father clock ticking in leisurely fashion in the +corner behind him, solemn and sedate, as it had done since, (as the neat +inscription upon the dial testified), it had first been made in the Year +of Grace 1732, by one Jabez Havesham, of London;--this ancient +time-piece now uttered a sudden wheeze, (which, considering its great +age, could scarcely be wondered at), and, thereafter, the wheezing +having subsided, gave forth a soft, and mellow chime, proclaiming to all +and sundry, that it was twelve o'clock. Hereupon, the Auctioneer, +bustling to and fro with his hat upon the back of his head, consulted +his watch, nodded to the red nosed, blue-chinned Theodore, and, perching +himself above the crowd, gave three sharp knocks with his hammer. + +"Gentlemen!" he began, but here he was interrupted by a loud voice +upraised in hot anger. + +"Confound ye for a clumsy rascal! Will ye keep them elbers o' yourn to +out o' my weskit, eh? Will ye keep them big feet o' yourn to yeself? If +there ain't room enough for ye,--out ye go, d'ye hear--I'll have ye +took, and shook,--and throwed out where ye belong; so jest mind where ye +come a trampin', and a treadin'." + +"Tread!" repeated Adam, "Lord! where am I to tread? If I steps backward +I tread on ye,--If I steps sideways I tread on ye, if I steps for-ard I +tread on ye. It do seem to me as I can't go nowhere but there you be +a-waitin' to be trod on, Mr. Grimes, sir." + +Hereupon the Auctioneer rapped louder than ever, upon which, the clamour +subsiding, he smiled his most jovial smile, and once more began: + +"Gentlemen! you have all had an opportunity to examine the furniture I +am about to dispose of, and, as fair minded human beings I think you +will admit that a finer lot of genuine antique was never offered at one +and the same time. Gentlemen, I am not going to burst forth into +laudatory rodomontade, (which is a word, gentlemen that I employ only +among an enlightened community such as I now have the honour of +addressing),--neither do I propose to waste your time in purposeless +verbiage, (which is another of the same kind, gentlemen),--therefore, +without further preface, or preamble, we will proceed at once to +business. The first lot I have to offer you is a screen,--six foot +high,--bring out the screen, Theodore! There it is, gentlemen,--open it +out, Theodore! Observe, Gentlemen it is carved rosewood, the panels hand +painted, and representing shepherds, and shepherdesses, disporting +themselves under a tree with banjo and guitar. Now what am I offered for +this hand-painted, antique screen,--come?" + +"Fifteen shillings!" from someone deep hidden in the crowd. + +"Start as low as you like, gentlemen! I am offered a miserable fifteen +shillings for a genuine, hand-painted--" + +"Sixteen!" this from a long, loose-limbed fellow with a patch over one +eye, and another on his cheek. + +"A pound!" said Adam, promptly. + +"A guinea!" nodded he of the patches. + +"Twenty-five shillin's!" said Adam. + +"At twenty-five shillings!" cried the Auctioneer, "any advance?--a +genuine, hand-painted, antique screen,--going at twenty-five--at +twenty-five,--going--going--gone! To the large gentleman in the +neckcloth, Theodore!" + +"Theer be that Job Jagway, sir," said Adam, leaning across the +side-board to impart this information,--"over yonder, Mr. Belloo +sir,--'im as was bidding for the screen,--the tall chap wi' the patches. +Two patches be pretty good, but I do wish as I'd give him a couple more, +while I was about it, Mr. Belloo sir." Here, the Auctioneer's voice put +an end to Adam's self-reproaches, and he turned back to the business +in hand. + +"The next lot I'm going to dispose of, gentlemen, is a fine set of six +chairs with carved antique backs, and upholstered in tapestry. Also two +arm-chairs to match,--wheel 'em out, Theodore! Now what is your price +for these eight fine pieces,--look 'em over and bid accordingly." + +"Thirty shillings!" Again from the depths of the crowd. + +"Ha! ha!--you joke sir!" laughed the Auctioneer, rubbing his hands in +his most jovial manner, "you joke! I can't see you, but you joke of +course, and I laugh accordingly, ha! ha! Thirty shillings for eight, +fine, antique, tapestried, hand-carved chairs,--Oh very +good,--excellent, upon my soul!" + +"Three pound!" said the fiery-necked Corn-chandler. + +"Guineas!" said the rat-eyed Parsons. + +"Four pound!" nodded the Corn-chandler. + +"Four pound ten!" roared Adam. + +"Five!" nodded Grimes, edging away from Adam's elbow. + +"Six pound ten!" cried Adam. + +"Seven!"--from Parsons. + +"Eight!" said Grimes. + +"Ten!" roared Adam, growing desperate. + +"Eleven!" said Grimes, beginning to mop at his neck again. + +Adam hesitated; eleven pounds seemed so very much for those chairs, that +he had seen Prudence and the rosy-cheeked maids dust regularly every +morning, and then,--it was not his money, after all. Therefore Adam +hesitated, and glanced wistfully towards a certain distant corner. + +"At eleven,--at eleven pounds!--this fine suite of hand-carved antique +chairs, at eleven pounds!--at eleven!--at eleven, going--going!--" + +"Fifteen!" said a voice from the distant corner; whereupon Adam drew a +great sigh of relief, while the Corn-chandler contorted himself in his +efforts to glare at Bellew round the side-board. + +"Fifteen pounds!" chanted the Auctioneer, "I have fifteen,--I am given +fifteen,--any advance? These eight antique chairs, going at +fifteen!--going! for the last time,--going!--gone! Sold to the gentleman +in the corner behind the side-board, Theodore." + +"They were certainly fine chairs, Mr. Grimes!" said Parsons shaking his +head. + +"So so!" said the Corn-chandler, sitting down heavily, "So so, Parsons!" +and he turned to glare at Bellew, who, lying back in an easy chair with +his legs upon another, puffed at his pipe, and regarded all things with +a placid interest. + +It is not intended to record in these pages all the bids that were made +as the afternoon advanced, for that would be fatiguing to write, and a +weariness to read; suffice it that lots were put up, and regularly +knocked down but always to Bellew, or Adam. Which last, encouraged by +Bellew's bold advances, gaily roared down, and constantly out-bid all +competitors with such unhesitating pertinacity, that murmurs rose, and +swelled into open complaint. In the midst of which, the fiery-visaged +Corn-chandler, purple now, between heat, and vexation, loudly demanded +that he lay down some substantial deposit upon what he had already +purchased, failing which, he should, there and then, be took, and shook, +and throwed out into the yard. + +"Neck, and crop!" added Mr. Parsons. + +"That seems to be a fair proposition," smiled the Auctioneer, who had +already experienced some doubts as to Adam's financial capabilities, yet +with his joviality all unruffled,--"that seems to be a very fair +proposal indeed. If the gentleman will put down some substantial +deposit now--" + +"Aye, for sure!" nodded Adam, stepping forward; and, unbuttoning a +capacious pocket he drew out a handful of bank-notes, "shall I gi'e ye a +hundred pound,--or will fifty be enough?" + +"Why," said the Auctioneer, rubbing his hands as he eyed the fistful of +bank-notes, "ten pound will be all that is necessary, sir,--just to +ensure good faith, you understand." + +Hereupon, Bellew beckoning to Adam, handed him a like amount which was +duly deposited with the Auctioneer. + +So, once more, the bidding began,--once more lots were put up,--and +knocked down--now to Adam, and now to Bellew. The bed with the carved +head-board had fallen to Adam after a lively contest between him, and +Parsons, and the Corn-chandler, which had left the latter in a state of +perspiring profanity, from which he was by no means recovered, when the +Auctioneer once more rapped for silence. + +"And now, gentlemen, last, but by no means least, we come to the gem of +the sale,--a side-board, gentlemen,--a magnificent, mahogany +side-board, being a superb example of the carver's art! Here is a +side-board, gentlemen, which,--if it can be equalled,--cannot be +excelled--no, gentlemen, not if you were to search all the baronial +halls, and lordly mansions in this land of mansions, and baronials. It +is a truly magnificent piece, in perfect condition,--and to be sold at +your own price. I say no more. Gentlemen,--how much for this +magnificent, mahogany piece?" + +"Ten pound!" + +"Eleven!" + +"Fifteen!" + +"Seventeen!" said Adam, who was rapidly drawing near the end of his +resources. + +"Eighteen!" This from Job Jagway. + +"Go easy there, Job!" hissed Adam, edging a little nearer to him, "go +easy, now,--Nineteen!" + +"Come, come Gentlemen!" remonstrated the Auctioneer, "this isn't a +coal-scuttle, nor a broom, nor yet a pair of tongs,--this is a +magnificent mahogany side-board,--and you offer me--nineteen pound!" + +"Twenty!" said Job. + +"Twenty-one!" roared Adam, making his last bid, and then, turning, he +hissed in Job's unwilling ear,--"go any higher, an' I'll pound ye to a +jelly, Job!" + +"Twenty-five!" said Parsons. + +"Twenty-seven!" + +"Twenty-eight!" + +"Thirty!" nodded Grimes, scowling at Adam. + +"Thirty-two!" cried Parsons. + +"Thirty-six!" + +"Thirty-seven!" + +"Forty!" nodded Grimes. + +"That drops me," said Parsons, sighing, and shaking his head. + +"Ah!" chuckled the Corn-chandler, "well, I've waited years for that +side-board, Parsons, and I ain't going to let you take it away from +me--nor nobody else, sir!" + +"At forty!" cried the Auctioneer, "at forty!--this magnifi--" + +"One!" nodded Bellew, beginning to fill his pipe. + +"Forty-one's the bid,--I have forty-one from the gent in the corner--" + +"Forty-five!" growled the Corn-chandler. + +"Six!" said Bellew. + +"Fifty!" snarled Grimes. + +"One!" said Bellew. + +"Gent in the corner gives me fifty-one!" chanted the Auctioneer--"any +advance?--at fifty-one--" + +"Fifty-five!" said Grimes, beginning to mop at his neck harder than +ever. + +"Add ten!" nodded Bellew. + +"What's that?" cried Grimes, wheeling about. + +"Gent in the corner offers me sixty-five,--at sixty-five,--this +magnificent piece at sixty-five! What, are you all done?--at sixty-five, +and cheap at the price,--come, gentlemen, take your time, give it +another look over, and bid accordingly." + +The crowd had dwindled rapidly during the last hour, which was scarcely +to be wondered at seeing that they were constantly out-bid--either by a +hoarse voiced, square-shouldered fellow in a neck-cloth, or a dreamy +individual who lolled in a corner, and puffed at a pipe. + +But now, as Grimes, his red cheeks puffed out, his little eyes snapping +in a way that many knew meant danger (with a large D)--as the rich +Corn-chandler, whose word was law to a good many, turned and confronted +this lounging, long-legged individual,--such as remained closed round +them in a ring, in keen expectation of what was to follow. Observing +which, the Corn-chandler feeling it incumbent upon him now or never, to +vindicate himself as a man of property, and substance, and not to be put +down, thrust his hands deep into his pockets, spread his legs wide +apart, and stared at Bellew in a way that most people had found highly +disconcerting, before now. Bellew, however, seemed wholly unaffected, +and went on imperturbably filling his pipe. + +"At sixty-five!" cried the Auctioneer, leaning towards Grimes with his +hammer poised, "at sixty-five--Will you make it another pound, +sir!--come,--what do you say?" + +"I say--no sir!" returned the Corn-chandler, slowly, and impressively, +"I say no, sir,--I say--make it another--twenty pound, sir!" Hereupon +heads were shaken, or nodded, and there rose the sudden shuffle of feet +as the crowd closed in nearer. + +"I get eighty-five! any advance on eighty-five?" + +"Eighty-six!" said Bellew, settling the tobacco in his pipe-bowl with +his thumb. + +Once again the Auctioneer leaned over and appealed to the Corn-chandler, +who stood in the same attitude, jingling the money in his pocket, "Come +sir, don't let a pound or so stand between you and a side-board that +can't be matched in the length and breadth of the United Kingdom,--come, +what do you say to another ten shillings?" + +"I say, sir," said Grimes, with his gaze still riveted upon Bellew, "I +say--no sir,--I say make it another--twenty pound sir!" + +Again there rose the shuffle of feet, again heads were nodded, and +elbows nudged neighbouring ribs, and all eyes were focussed upon Bellew +who was in the act of lighting his pipe. + +"One hundred and six pounds!" cried the Auctioneer, "at one six!--at one +six!--" + +Bellew struck a match, but the wind from the open casement behind him, +extinguished it. + +"I have one hundred and six pounds! is there any advance, yes or +no?--going at one hundred and six!" + +Adam who, up till now, had enjoyed the struggle to the utmost, +experienced a sudden qualm of fear. + +Bellew struck another match. + +"At one hundred and six pounds!--at one six,--going at one hundred and +six pounds--!" + +A cold moisture started out on Adam's brow, he clenched his hands, and +muttered between his teeth. Supposing the money were all gone, like his +own share, supposing they had to lose this famous old side-board,--and +to Grimes of all people! This, and much more, was in Adam's mind while +the Auctioneer held his hammer poised, and Bellew went on lighting +his pipe. + +"Going at one hundred and six!--going!--going!--" + +"Fifty up!" said Bellew. His pipe was well alight at last, and he was +nodding to the Auctioneer through a fragrant cloud. + +"What!" cried Grimes, "'ow much?" + +"Gent in the corner gives me one hundred and fifty six pounds," said the +Auctioneer, with a jovial eye upon the Corn-chandler's lowering visage, +"one five six,--all done?--any advance? Going at one five six,--going! +going!--gone!" The hammer fell, and with its tap a sudden silence came +upon the old hall. Then, all at once, the Corn-chandler turned, caught +up his hat, clapped it on, shook a fat fist at Bellew, and crossing to +the door, lumbered away, muttering maledictions as he went. + +By twos and threes the others followed him until there remained only +Adam, Bellew, the Auctioneer, and the red-nosed Theodore. And yet, there +was one other, for, chancing to raise his eyes to the minstrel's +gallery, Bellew espied Miss Priscilla, who, meeting his smiling glance, +leaned down suddenly over the carved rail, and very deliberately, threw +him a kiss, and then hurried away with a quick, light tap-tap of +her stick. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +_How Anthea came home_ + +"Lord!" said Adam, pausing with a chair under either arm, "Lord, Mr. +Belloo sir,--I wonder what Miss Anthea will say?" with which remark he +strode off with the two chairs to set them in their accustomed places. + +Seldom indeed had the old hall despite its many years, seen such a +running to and fro, heard such a patter of flying feet, such merry +voices, such gay, and heart-felt laughter. For here was Miss Priscilla, +looking smaller than ever, in a great arm chair whence she directed the +disposal and arrangement of all things, with quick little motions of her +crutch-stick. And here were the two rosy-cheeked maids, brighter and +rosier than ever, and here was comely Prudence hither come from her +kitchen to bear a hand, and here, as has been said, was Adam, and here +also was Bellew, his pipe laid aside with his coat, pushing, and tugging +in his efforts to get the great side-board back into its customary +position; and all, as has also been said, was laughter, and bustle, and +an eager haste to have all things as they were,--and should be +henceforth,--before Anthea's return. + +"Lord!" exclaimed Adam again, balanced now upon a ladder, and pausing to +wipe his brow with one hand and with a picture swinging in the other, +"Lord! what ever will Miss Anthea say, Mr. Belloo sir!" + +"Ah!" nodded Bellew thoughtfully, "I wonder!" + +"What do you suppose she'll say, Miss Priscilla, mam?" + +"I think you'd better be careful of that picture, Adam!" + +"Which means," said Bellew, smiling down into Miss Priscilla's young, +bright eyes, "that you don't know." + +"Well, Mr. Bellew, she'll be very--glad, of course,--happier I think, +than you or I can guess, because I know she loves every stick, and stave +of that old furniture,--but--" + +"But!" nodded Bellew, "yes, I understand." + +"Mr. Bellew, if Anthea,--God bless her dear heart!--but if she has a +fault--it is pride, Mr. Bellew, Pride! Pride! Pride!--with a capital P!" + +"Yes, she is very proud." + +"She'll be that 'appy-'earted," said Adam, pausing near-by with a great +armful of miscellaneous articles, "an' that full o' joy as never was! +Mr. Belloo sir!" Having delivered himself of which, he departed with +his load. + +"I rose this morning--very early, Mr. Bellew,--Oh! very early!" said +Miss Priscilla, following Adam's laden figure with watchful eyes, +"couldn't possibly sleep, you see. So I got up,--ridiculously +early,--but, bless you, she was before me!" + +"Ah!" + +"Oh dear yes!--had been up--hours! And what--what do you suppose she was +doing?" Bellew shook his head. + +"She was rubbing and polishing that old side-board that you paid such a +dreadful price for,--down on her knees before it,--yes she was! and +polishing, and rubbing, and--crying all the while. Oh dear heart! such +great, big tears,--and so very quiet! When she heard my little stick +come tapping along she tried to hide them,--I mean her tears, of course, +Mr. Bellew, and when I drew her dear, beautiful head down into my arms, +she--tried to smile. 'I'm so very silly, Aunt Priscilla,' she said, +crying more than ever, 'but it _is_ so hard to let the old things be +taken away,--you see,--I do _love_ them so! I tell you all this, Mr. +Bellew, because I like you,--ever since you took the trouble to pick up +a ball of worsted for a poor, old lame woman--in an orchard,--first +impressions, you know. And secondly, I tell you all this to explain to +you why I--hum!--" + +"Threw a kiss--from a minstrel's gallery, to a most unworthy individual, +Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Threw you a kiss, Mr. Bellew,--I had to,--the side-board you know,--on +her knees--you understand?" + +"I understand!" + +"You see, Mr. Belloo sir," said Adam, at this juncture, speaking from +beneath an inlaid table which he held balanced upon his head,--"it +ain't as if this was jest ordinary furnitur' sir,--ye see she kind-er +feels as it be all part o' Dapplemere Manor, as it used to be called, +it's all been here so long, that them cheers an' tables has come to be +part o' the 'ouse, sir. So when she comes, an' finds as it ain't all +been took,--or, as you might say,--vanished away,--why the question as I +ax's you is,--w'ot will she say? Oh Lord!" And here, Adam gave vent to +his great laugh which necessitated an almost superhuman exertion of +strength to keep the table from slipping from its precarious perch. +Whereupon Miss Priscilla screamed, (a very small scream, like herself) +and Prudence scolded, and the two rosy-cheeked maids tittered, and Adam +went chuckling upon his way. + +And when the hall was, once more, its old, familiar, comfortable self, +when the floor had been swept of its litter, and every trace of the sale +removed,--then Miss Priscilla sighed, and Bellew put on his coat. + +"When do you expect--she will come home?" he enquired, glancing at the +grandfather clock in the corner. + +"Well, if she drove straight back from Cranbrook she would be here +now,--but I fancy she won't be so very anxious to get home to-day,--and +may come the longest way round; yes, it's in my mind she will keep away +from Dapplemere as long as ever she can." + +"And I think," said Bellew, "Yes, I think I'll take a walk. I'll go and +call upon the Sergeant." + +"The Sergeant!" said Miss Priscilla, "let me see,--it is now a quarter +to six, it should take you about fifteen minutes to the village, that +will make it exactly six o'clock. You will find the Sergeant just +sitting down in the chair on the left hand side of the fire-place,--in +the corner,--at the 'King's Head,' you know. Not that I have ever seen +him there,--good gracious no! but I--happen to be--acquainted with his +habits, and he is as regular and precise as his great, big silver watch, +and that is the most precise, and regular thing in all the world. I am +glad you are going," she went on, "because to-day is--well, a day apart, +Mr. Bellew. You will find the Sergeant at the 'King's Head,'--until half +past seven." + +"Then I will go to the 'King's Head,'" said Bellew. "And what message do +you send him?" + +"None," said Miss Priscilla, laughing and shaking her head,--"at +least,--you can tell him, if you wish,--that--the peaches are riper than +ever they were this evening." + +"I won't forget," said Bellew, smiling, and went out into the sunshine. +But, crossing the yard, he was met by Adam, who, chuckling still, paused +to touch his hat. + +"To look at that theer 'all, sir, you wouldn't never know as there'd +ever been any sale at all,--not no'ow. Now the only question as worrits +me, and as I'm a-axin' of myself constant is,--what will Miss Anthea +'ave to say about it?" + +"Yes," said Bellew, "I wonder!" And so he turned, and went away slowly +across the fields. + +Miss Priscilla had been right,--Anthea _was_ coming back the longest way +round,--also she was anxious to keep away from Dapplemere as long as +possible. Therefore, despite Small Porges' exhortations, and Bess's +champing impatience, she held the mare in, permitting her only the +slowest of paces, which was a most unusual thing for Anthea to do. For +the most part, too, she drove in silence seemingly deaf to Small Porges' +flow of talk, which was also very unlike in her. But before her eyes +were visions of her dismantled home, in her ears was the roar of voices +clamouring for her cherished possessions,--a sickening roar, broken, now +and then, by the hollow tap of the auctioneer's cruel hammer. And, each +time the clamouring voices rose, she shivered, and every blow of the +cruel hammer seemed to fall upon her quivering heart. Thus, she was +unwontedly deaf and unresponsive to Small Porges, who presently fell +into a profound gloom, in consequence; and thus, she held in the eager +mare who therefore, shied, and fidgeted, and tossed her head +indignantly. + +But, slowly as they went, they came within sight of the house, at last, +with its quaint gables, and many latticed windows, and the blue smoke +curling up from its twisted chimneys,--smiling and placid as though, in +all this great world, there were no such thing to be found as--an +auctioneer's hammer. + +And presently they swung into the drive, and drew up in the courtyard. +And there was Adam, waiting to take the mare's head,--Adam, as +good-natured, and stolid as though there were no abominations called, +for want of a worse name,--sales. + +Very slowly, for her, Anthea climbed down from the high dog-cart, aiding +Small Porges to earth, and with his hand clasped tight in hers, and with +lips set firm, she turned and entered the hall. But, upon the threshold, +she stopped, and stood there utterly still, gazing, and gazing upon the +trim orderliness of everything. Then, seeing every well remembered thing +in its appointed place,--all became suddenly blurred, and dim, and, +snatching her hand from Small Porges' clasp, she uttered a great, +choking sob, and covered her face. + +But Small Porges had seen, and stood aghast, and Miss Priscilla had +seen, and now hurried forward with a quick tap, tap of her stick. As she +came, Anthea raised her head, and looked for one who should have been +there, but was not. And, in that moment, instinctively she knew how +things came to be as they were,--and, because of this knowledge, her +cheeks flamed with a swift, burning colour, and with a soft cry, she hid +her face in Miss Priscilla's gentle bosom. Then, while her face was yet +hidden there, she whispered: + +"Tell me--tell me--all about it." + +But, meanwhile, Bellew, striding far away across the meadows, seeming to +watch the glory of the sun-set, and to hearken to a blackbird piping +from the dim seclusion of the copse a melodious "Good-bye" to the dying +day, yet saw, and heard it not at all, for his mind was still occupied +with Adam's question:-- + +"What would Miss Anthea say?" + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +_Which, among, other things, has to do with shrimps, muffins, and tin +whistles_ + +A typical Kentish Village is Dapplemere with its rows of scattered +cottages bowered in roses and honeysuckle,--white walled cottages with +steep-pitched roofs, and small latticed windows that seem to stare at +all and sundry like so many winking eyes. + +There is an air redolent of ripening fruit, and hops, for Dapplemere is +a place of orchards, and hop-gardens, and rick-yards, while, here and +there, the sharp-pointed, red-tiled roof of some oast-house pierces +the green. + +Though Dapplemere village is but a very small place indeed, +now-a-days,--yet it possesses a church, grey and ancient, whose massive +Norman tower looks down upon gable and chimney, upon roof of thatch and +roof of tile, like some benignant giant keeping watch above them all. +Near-by, of course, is the inn, a great, rambling, comfortable place, +with time-worn settles beside the door, and with a mighty sign +a-swinging before it, upon which, plainly to be seen (when the sun +catches it fairly) is that which purports to be a likeness of His +Majesty King William the Fourth, of glorious memory. But alas! the +colours have long since faded, so that now, (upon a dull day), it is a +moot question whether His Majesty's nose was of the Greek, or Roman +order, or, indeed, whether he was blessed with any nose at all. Thus, +Time and Circumstances have united to make a ghost of the likeness (as +they have done of the original, long since) which, fading yet more, and +more, will doubtless eventually vanish altogether,--like King William +himself, and leave but a vague memory behind. + +Now, before the inn was a small crowd gathered about a trap in which sat +two men, one of whom Bellew recognised as the rednecked Corn-chandler +Grimes, and the other, the rat-eyed Parsons. + +The Corn-chandler was mopping violently at his face and neck down which +ran, and to which clung, a foamy substance suspiciously like the froth +of beer, and, as he mopped, his loud brassy voice shook and quavered +with passion. + +"I tell ye--you shall get out o' my cottage!" he was saying, "I say you +shall quit my cottage at the end o' the month,--and when I says a thing, +I means it,--I say you shall get off of my property,--you--and that +beggarly cobbler. I say you shall be throwed out o' my cottage,--lock, +stock, and barrel. I say--" + +"I wouldn't, Mr. Grimes,--leastways, not if I was you," another voice +broke in, calm and deliberate. "No, I wouldn't go for to say another +word, sir; because, if ye do say another word, I know a man as will drag +you down out o' that cart, sir,--I know a man as will break your whip +over your very own back, sir,--I know a man as will then take and heave +you into the horse-pond, sir,--and that man is me--Sergeant Appleby, +late of the Nineteenth Hussars, sir." + +The Corn-chandler having removed most of the froth from his head and +face, stared down at the straight, alert figure of the big Sergeant, +hesitated, glanced at the Sergeant's fist which, though solitary, was +large, and powerful, scowled at the Sergeant from his polished boots to +the crown of his well-brushed hat (which perched upon his close-cropped, +grey hair at a ridiculous angle totally impossible to any but an +ex-cavalry-man), muttered a furious oath, and snatching his whip, cut +viciously at his horse, very much as if that animal had been the +Sergeant himself, and, as the trap lurched forward, he shook his fist, +and nodded his head. + +"Out ye go,--at the end o' the month,--mind that!" he snarled and so, +rattled away down the road still mopping at his head and neck until he +had fairly mopped himself out of sight. + +"Well, Sergeant," said Bellew extending his hand, "how are you!" + +"Hearty, sir,--hearty I thank you, though, at this precise moment, just +a leetle put out, sir. None the less I know a man as is happy to see +you, Mr. Bellew, sir,--and that's me--Sergeant Appleby, at your service, +sir. My cottage lies down the road yonder, an easy march--if you will +step that far?--Speaking for my comrade and myself--we shall be proud +for you to take tea with us--muffins sir--shrimps, Mr. Bellew--also a +pikelet or two.--Not a great feast--but tolerable good rations, sir--and +plenty of 'em--what do you say?" + +"I say--done, and thank you very much!" + +So, without further parley, the Sergeant saluted divers of the little +crowd, and, wheeling sharply, strode along beside Bellew, rather more +stiff in the back, and fixed of eye than was his wont, and jingling his +imaginary spurs rather more loudly than usual. + +"You will be wondering at the tantrums of the man Grimes, sir,--of his +ordering me and my comrade Peterday out of his cottage. Sir--I'll tell +you--in two words. It's all owing to the sale--up at the Farm, sir. You +see, Grimes is a great hand at buying things uncommonly cheap, and +selling 'em--uncommonly dear. To-day it seems--he was disappointed--" + +"Ah?" said Bellew. + +"At exactly--twenty-three minutes to six, sir," said the Sergeant, +consulting his large silver watch, "I were sitting in my usual +corner--beside the chimley, sir,--when in comes Grimes--like a +thunder-cloud.--Calls for a pint of ale--in a tankard. Tom draws +pint--which Tom is the landlord, sir. 'Buy anything at the sale, Mr. +Grimes?' says Tom,--'Sale!' says Grimes, 'sale indeed!' and falls a +cursing--folk up at the Farm--shocking--outrageous. Ends by threatening +to foreclose mortgage--within the month. Upon which--I raise a +protest--upon which he grows abusive,--upon which I was forced to pour +his ale over him,--after which I ran him out into the road--and there it +is, you see." + +"And--he threatened to foreclose the mortgage on Dapplemere Farm, did +he, Sergeant!" + +"Within the month, sir!--upon which I warned him--inn parlour no +place--lady's private money troubles--gaping crowd--dammit!" + +"And so he is turning you out of his cottage?" + +"Within the week, sir,--but then--beer down the neck--is rather +unpleasant!" and here the Sergeant uttered a short laugh, and was +immediately grave again. "It isn't," he went on, "it isn't as _I_ mind +the inconvenience of moving, sir--though I shall be mighty sorry to +leave the old place, still, it isn't that so much as the small corner +cup-board, and my bookshelf by the chimley. There never was such a +cup-board,--no sir,--there never was a cup-board so well calculated to +hold a pair o' jack boots, not to mention spurs, highlows, burnishers, +shoulder-chains, polishing brushes, and--a boot-jack, as that same small +corner cup-board. As for the book-shelf beside the chimley, +sir--exactly three foot three,--sunk in a recess--height, the third +button o' my coat,--capacity, fourteen books. You couldn't get another +book on that shelf--no, not if you tried with a sledge-hammer, or a +hydraulic engine. Which is highly surprising when you consider that +fourteen books is the true, and exact number of books as I possess." + +"Very remarkable!" said Bellew. + +"Then again,--there's my comrade,--Peter Day (The Sergeant pronounced it +as though it were all one word). Sir, my comrade Peterday is a very +remarkable man,--most cobblers are. When he's not cobbling, he's +reading,--when not reading, he's cobbling, or mending clocks, and +watches, and, betwixt this and that, my comrade has picked up a power of +information,--though he lost his leg a doing of it--in a gale of +wind--off the Cape of Good Hope, for my comrade was a sailor, sir. +Consequently he is a handy man, most sailors are and makes his own +wooden legs, sir, he is also a musician--the tin whistle, sir,--and +here we are!" + +Saying which, the Sergeant halted, wheeled, opened a very small gate, +and ushered Bellew into a very small garden bright with flowers, beyond +which was a very small cottage indeed, through the open door of which +there issued a most appetizing odour, accompanied by a whistle, +wonderfully clear, and sweet, that was rendering "Tom Bowling" with many +shakes, trills, and astonishing runs. + +Peterday was busied at the fire with a long toasting-fork in his hand, +but, on their entrance, breaking off his whistling in the very middle of +a note, he sprang nimbly to his feet, (or rather, his foot), and stood +revealed as a short, yet strongly built man, with a face that, in one +way, resembled an island in that it was completely surrounded by hair, +and whisker. But it was, in all respects, a vastly pleasant island to +behold, despite the somewhat craggy prominences of chin, and nose, and +brow. In other words, it was a pleasing face notwithstanding the fierce, +thick eye-brows which were more than offset by the merry blue eyes, and +the broad, humourous mouth below. + +"Peterday," said the Sergeant, "Mr. Bel-lew!" + +"Glad to see you sir," said the mariner, saluting the visitor with a +quick bob of the head, and a backward scrape of the wooden leg. "You +couldn't make port at a better time, sir,--and because why?--because the +kettle's a biling, sir, the muffins is piping hot, and the shrimps is +a-laying hove to, waiting to be took aboard, sir." Saying which, +Peterday bobbed his head again, shook his wooden leg again, and turned +away to reach another cup and saucer. + +It was a large room for so small a cottage, and comfortably furnished, +with a floor of red tile, and with a grate at one end well raised up +from the hearth. Upon the hob a kettle sang murmurously, and on a trivet +stood a plate whereon rose a tower of toasted muffins. A round table +occupied the middle of the floor and was spread with a snowy cloth +whereon cups and saucers were arranged, while in the midst stood a great +bowl of shrimps. + +Now above the mantel-piece, that is to say, to the left of it, and +fastened to the wall, was a length of rope cunningly tied into what is +called a "running bowline," above this, on a shelf specially contrived +to hold it, was the model of a full-rigged ship that was--to all +appearances--making excellent way of it, with every stitch of canvas set +and drawing, alow and aloft; above this again, was a sextant, and a +telescope. Opposite all these, upon the other side of the mantel, were a +pair of stirrups, three pairs of spurs, two cavalry sabres, and a +carbine, while between these objects, in the very middle of the chimney, +uniting, as it were, the Army, and the Navy, was a portrait of +Queen Victoria. + +Bellew also noticed that each side of the room partook of the same +characteristics, one being devoted to things nautical, the other to +objects military. All this Bellew noticed while the soldier was brewing +the tea, and the sailor was bestowing the last finishing touches to +the muffins. + +"It aren't often as we're honoured wi' company, sir," said Peterday, as +they sat down, "is it, Dick?" + +"No," answered the Sergeant, handing Bellew the shrimps. + +"We ain't had company to tea," said Peterday, passing Bellew the +muffins, "no, we ain't had company to tea since the last time Miss +Anthea, and Miss Priscilla honoured us, have we, Dick?" + +"Honoured us," said the Sergeant, nodding his head approvingly, "is the +one, and only word for it, Peterday." + +"And the last time was this day twelve months, sir,--because +why?--because this day twelve months 'appened to be Miss Priscilla's +birthday,--consequently to-day is her birthday, likewise,--wherefore the +muffins, and wherefore the shrimps, sir, for they was this day to have +once more graced our board, Mr. Bellew." + +"'Graced our board,'" said the Sergeant, nodding his head again, +"'graced our board,' is the only expression for it, Peterday. But they +disappointed us, Mr. Bellew, sir,--on account of the sale." + +"Messmate," said Peterday, with a note of concern in his voice, "how's +the wind?" + +"Tolerable, comrade, tolerable!" + +"Then--why forget the tea?" + +"Tea!" said the Sergeant with a guilty start, "why--so I am!--Mr. Bellew +sir,--your pardon!" and, forthwith he began to pour out the tea very +solemnly, but with less precision of movement than usual, and with +abstracted gaze. + +"The Sergeant tells me you are a musician," said Bellew, as Peterday +handed him another muffin. + +"A musician,--me! think o' that now! To be sure, I do toot on the tin +whistle now and then, sir, such things as 'The British Grenadiers,' and +the 'Girl I left behind me,' for my shipmate, and 'The Bay o' Biscay,' +and 'A Life on the Ocean Wave,' for myself,--but a musician, Lord! Ye +see, sir," said Peterday, taking advantage of the Sergeant's +abstraction, and whispering confidentially behind his muffin, "that +messmate o' mine has such a high opinion o' my gifts as is fair +over-powering, and a tin whistle is only a tin whistle, after all." + +"And it is about the only instrument I could ever get the hang of," said +Bellew. + +"Why--do you mean as you play, sir?" + +"Hardly that, but I make a good bluff at it." + +"Why then,--I've got a couple o' very good whistles,--if you're so +minded we might try a doo-et, sir, arter tea." + +"With pleasure!" nodded Bellew. But, hereupon, Peterday noticing that +the Sergeant ate nothing, leaned over and touched him upon the shoulder. + +"How's the wind, now, Shipmate?" he enquired. + +"Why so so, Peterday, fairish! fairish!" said the Sergeant, stirring his +tea round and round, and with his gaze fixed upon the opposite wall. + +"Then messmate,--why not a muffin, or even a occasional shrimp,--where +be your appetite?" + +"Peterday," said the Sergeant, beginning to stir his tea faster than +ever, and with his eyes still fixed, "consequent upon disparaging +remarks having been passed by one Grimes,--our landlord,--concerning +them as should not be mentioned in a inn parlour--or anywhere else--by +such as said Grimes,--I was compelled to pour--a tankard of beer--over +said Grimes, our landlord,--this arternoon, Peterday, at exactly--twelve +and a half minutes past six, by my watch,--which done,--I ran our +landlord--out into the road, Peterday, say--half a minute later, which +would make it precisely thirteen minutes after the hour. Consequent upon +which, comrade--we have received our marching orders." + +"What messmate, is it heave our anchor, you mean?" + +"I mean, comrade--that on Saturday next, being the twenty-fifth +instant,--we march out--bag and baggage--horse, foot, and artillery,--we +evacuate our position--in face of superior force,--for good and +all, comrade." + +"Is that so, shipmate?" + +"It's rough on you, Peterday--it's hard on you, I'll admit, but things +were said, comrade--relative to--business troubles of one as we both +respect, Peterday,--things was said as called for--beer down the +neck,--and running out into the road, comrade. But it's rough on you, +Peterday seeing as you--like the Hussars at Assuan--was never engaged, +so to speak." + +"Aye, aye, Shipmate, that does ketch me,--all aback, shipmate. Why Lord! +I'd give a pound,--two pound--ah, ten!--just to have been astarn of him +wi' a rope's end,--though--come to think of it I'd ha' preferred a +capstan-bar." + +"Peterday," said the Sergeant removing his gaze from the wall with a +jerk, "on the twenty-fifth instant we shall be--without a roof to cover +us, and--all my doing. Peterday--what have you to say about it?" + +"Say, messmate,--why that you and me, honouring, and respecting two +ladies as deserves to be honoured, and respected, ain't going to let +such a small thing as this here cottage come betwixt us, and our +honouring and respecting of them two ladies. If, therefore, we are due +to quit this anchorage, why then it's all hands to the windlass with a +heave yo ho, and merrily! say I. Messmate,--my fist!" Hereupon, with a +very jerky movement indeed, the Sergeant reached out his remaining arm, +and the soldier and the sailor shook hands very solemnly over the +muffins (already vastly diminished in number) with a grip that +spoke much. + +"Peterday,--you have lifted a load off my heart--I thank ye +comrade,--and spoke like a true soldier. Peterday--the muffins!" + +So now the Sergeant, himself once more, fell to in turn, and they ate, +and drank, and laughed, and talked, until the shrimps were all gone, and +the muffins were things of the past. + +And now, declining all Bellew's offers of assistance, the soldier and +the sailor began washing, and drying, and putting away their crockery, +each in his characteristic manner,--the Sergeant very careful and exact, +while the sailor juggled cups and saucers with the sure-handed deftness +that seems peculiar to nautical fingers. + +"Yes, Peterday," said the Sergeant, hanging each cup upon its appointed +nail, and setting each saucer solicitously in the space reserved for it +on the small dresser, "since you have took our marching orders as you +have took 'em, I am quite reconciled to parting with these here snug +quarters, barring only--a book-shelf, and a cup-board." + +"Cupboard!" returned Peterday with a snort of disdain, "why there never +was such a ill-contrived, lubberly cupboard as that, in all the world; +you can't get at it unless you lay over to port,--on account o' the +clothes-press, and then hard a starboard,--on account o' the +dresser,--and then it being in the darkest corner--" + +"True Peterday, but then I'm used to it, and use is everything as you +know,--I can lay my hand upon anything--in a minute--watch me!" Saying +which, the Sergeant squeezed himself between the press and the dresser, +opened the cupboard, and took thence several articles which he named, +each in order. + +"A pair o' jack-boots,--two brushes,--blacking,--and a burnisher." +Having set these down, one by one, upon the dresser, he wheeled, and +addressed himself to Bellew, as follows: + +"Mr. Bellew, sir,--this evening being the anniversary of a +certain--event, sir, I will ask you--to excuse me--while I make the +necessary preparations--to honour this anniversary--as is ever my +custom." As he ended, he dropped the two brushes, the blacking, and the +burnisher inside the legs of the boots, picked them up with a sweep of +the arm, and, turning short round, strode out into the little garden. + +"A fine fellow is Dick, sir!" nodded Peterday, beginning to fill a long +clay pipe, "Lord!--what a sailor he 'd ha' made, to be sure!--failing +which he's as fine a soldier as ever was, or will be, with enough +war-medals to fill my Sunday hat, sir. When he lost his arm they gave +him the V.C., and his discharge, sir,--because why--because a soldier +wi' one arm ain't any more good than a sailor wi' one leg, d'ye see. So +they tried to discharge Dick, but--Lord love you!--they couldn't, +sir,--because why?--because Dick were a soldier bred and born, and is as +much a soldier to-day, as ever he was,--ah! and always will be--until he +goes marching aloft,--like poor Tom Bowling,--until one as is General of +all the armies, and Admiral of all the fleets as ever sailed, shall call +the last muster roll, sir. At this present moment, sir," continued the +sailor, lighting his pipe with a live coal from the fire, "my messmate +is a-sitting to the leeward o' the plum tree outside, a polishing of his +jack-boots,--as don't need polishing, and a burnishing of his spurs,--as +don't need burnishing. And because why?--because he goes on guard, +to-night, according to custom." + +"On guard!" repeated Bellew, "I'm afraid I don't understand." + +"Of course you don't, sir," chuckled Peterday, "well then, to-night he +marches away--in full regimentals, sir,--to mount guard. And--where, do +you suppose?--why, I'll tell you,--under Miss Priscilla's window! He +gets there as the clock is striking eleven, and there he stays, a +marching to and fro, until twelve o'clock. Which does him a world o' +good, sir, and noways displeases Miss Priscilla,--because why?--because +she don't know nothing whatever about it." Hereupon, Peterday rose, and +crossing to a battered sea-man's chest in the corner, came back with +three or four tin whistles which he handed to Bellew, who laid aside his +pipe, and, having selected one, ran tentatively up and down the scale +while Peterday listened attentive of ear, and beaming of face. + +"Sir," said he, "what do you say to 'Annie Laurie' as a start--shall we +give 'em 'Annie Laurie'?--very good!--ready?--go!" + +Thus, George Bellew, American citizen, and millionaire, piped away on a +tin whistle with all the gusto in the world,--introducing little trills, +and flourishes, here and there, that fairly won the one-legged +sailor's heart. + +They had already "given 'em" three or four selections, each of which had +been vociferously encored by Peterday, or Bellew,--and had just finished +an impassioned rendering of the "Suwanee River," when the Sergeant +appeared with his boots beneath his arm. + +"Shipmate!" cried Peterday, flourishing his whistle, "did ye ever hear a +tin whistle better played, or mellerer in tone?" + +"Meller--is the only word for it, comrade,--and your playing sirs, +is--artistic--though doleful. P'raps you wouldn't mind giving us +something brighter--a rattling quick-step? P'raps you might remember one +as begins: + + 'Some talk of Alexander + And some, of Hercules;' + +if it wouldn't be troubling you too much?" + +Forthwith they burst forth into "The British Grenadiers?" and never did +tin whistles render the famous old tune with more fire, and dash. As the +stirring notes rang out, the Sergeant, standing upon the hearth, seemed +to grow taller, his broad chest expanded, his eyes glowed, a flush crept +up into his cheek, and the whole man thrilled to the music as he had +done, many a time and oft, in years gone by. As the last notes died +away, he glanced down at the empty sleeve pinned across his breast, +shook his head, and thanking them in a very gruff voice indeed, turned +on his heel, and busied himself at his little cupboard. Peterday now +rose, and set a jug together with three glasses upon the table, also +spoons, and a lemon, keeping his "weather-eye" meanwhile, upon the +kettle,--which last, condescending to boil obligingly, he rapped three +times with his wooden leg. + +"Right O, shipmate!" he cried, very much as though he had been hailing +the "main-top," whereupon the Sergeant emerged from between the +clothes-press and the dresser with a black bottle in his hand, which he +passed over to Peterday who set about brewing what he called a "jorum o' +grog," the savour of which filled the place with a right pleasant +fragrance. And, when the glasses brimmed, each with a slice of lemon +a-top,--the Sergeant solemnly rose. + +"Mr. Bellew, and comrade," said he, lifting his glass, "I give you--Miss +Priscilla!" + +"God bless her!" said Peterday. + +"Amen!" added Bellew. So the toast was drunk,--the glasses were emptied, +re-filled, and emptied again,--this time more slowly, and, the clock +striking nine, Bellew rose to take his leave. Seeing which, the Sergeant +fetched his hat and stick, and volunteered to accompany him a little +way. So when Bellew had shaken the sailor's honest hand, they set +out together. + +"Sergeant," said Bellew, after they had walked some distance, "I have a +message for you." + +"For me, sir?" + +"From Miss Priscilla." + +"From--indeed, sir!" + +"She bid me tell you that--the peaches are riper to-night than ever they +were." + +The Sergeant seemed to find in this a subject for profound thought, and +he strode on beside Bellew very silently, and with his eyes straight +before him. + +"'That the peaches were riper,--to-night,--than ever they were?'" said +he at last. + +"Yes, Sergeant." + +"Riper!" said the Sergeant, as though turning this over in his mind. + +"Riper than ever they were!" nodded Bellew. + +"The--peaches, I think, sir?" + +"The peaches, yes." Bellew heard the Sergeant's finger rasping to and +fro across his shaven chin. + +"Mr. Bellew, sir--she is a--very remarkable woman, sir!" + +"Yes, Sergeant!" + +"A--wonderful woman!" + +"Yes, Sergeant!" + +"The kind of woman that--improves with age, sir!" + +"Yes, Sergeant." + +"Talking of--peaches, sir, I've often thought--she is--very like a +peach--herself, sir." + +"Very, Sergeant, but--" + +"Well, sir?" + +"Peaches do--_not_ improve with age, Sergeant,--'and the peaches +are--riper than ever they were,--to-night!'" The Sergeant stopped short, +and stared at Bellew wide-eyed. + +"Why--sir," said he very slowly, "you don't mean to say you--think as +she--meant--that--?" + +"But I do!" nodded Bellew. And now, just as suddenly as he had stopped, +the Sergeant turned, and went on again. + +"Lord!" he whispered--"Lord! Lord!" + +The moon was rising, and looking at the Sergeant, Bellew saw that there +was a wonderful light in his face, yet a light that was not of the moon. + +"Sergeant," said Bellew, laying a hand upon his shoulder, "why don't you +speak to her?" + +"Speak to her,--what me! No, no, Mr. Bellew!" said the Sergeant, +hastily. "No, no,--can't be done, sir,--not to be mentioned, or thought +of, sir!" The light was all gone out of his face, now, and he walked +with his chin on his breast. + +"The surprising thing to me, Sergeant, is that you have never thought of +putting your fortune to the test, and--speaking your mind to her, +before now." + +"Thought of it, sir!" repeated the Sergeant, bitterly, "thought of +it!--Lord, sir! I've thought of it--these five years--and more. I've +thought of it--day and night. I've thought of it so very much that I +know--I never can--speak my mind to her. Look at me!" he cried suddenly, +wheeling and confronting Bellew, but not at all like his bold, erect, +soldierly self,--"Yes, look at me,--a poor, battered, old soldier--with +his--best arm gone,--left behind him in India, and with nothing in the +world but his old uniform,--getting very frayed and worn,--like himself, +sir,--a pair o' jack boots, likewise very much worn, though wonderfully +patched, here and there, by my good comrade, Peterday,--a handful of +medals, and a very modest pension. Look at me, with the best o' my days +behind me, and wi' only one arm left--and I'm a deal more awkward and +helpless with that one arm than you'd think, sir,--look at me, and then +tell me how could such a man dare to speak his mind to--such a woman. +What right has--such a man to even think of speaking his mind to--such a +woman, when there's part o' that man already in the grave? Why, no +right, sir,--none in the world. Poverty, and one arm, are facts as make +it impossible for that man to--ever speak his mind. And, sir--that +man--never will. Sir,--good night to you!--and a pleasant walk!--I turn +back here." + +Which the Sergeant did, then and there, wheeling sharp right about face; +yet, as Bellew watched him go, he noticed that the soldier's step was +heavy, and slow, and it seemed that, for once, the Sergeant had even +forgotten to put on his imaginary spurs. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +_In which Adam explains_ + +"Adam!" + +"Yes, Miss Anthea." + +"How much money did Mr. Bellew give you to--buy the furniture?" + +Miss Anthea was sitting in her great elbow chair, leaning forward with +her chin in her hand, looking at him in the way which always seemed to +Adam as though she could see into the verimost recesses of his mind. +Therefore Adam twisted his hat in his hands, and stared at the ceiling, +and the floor, and the table before Miss Anthea, and the wall behind +Miss Anthea--anywhere but at Miss Anthea. + +"You ax me--how much it were, Miss Anthea?" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"Well,--it were a goodish sum." + +"Was it--fifty pounds?" + +"Fifty pound!" repeated Adam, in a tone of lofty disdain, "no, Miss +Anthea, it were _not_ fifty pound." + +"Do you mean it was--more?" + +"Ah!" nodded Adam, "I mean as it were a sight more. If you was to take +the fifty pound you mention, add twenty more, and then another twenty to +that, and then come ten more to that,--why then--you'd be a bit nigher +the figure--" + +"A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Anthea, aghast. + +"Ah! a hundred pound!" nodded Adam, rolling the words upon his tongue +with great gusto,--"one--hundred--pound, were the sum, Miss Anthea." + +"Oh, Adam!" + +"Lord love you, Miss Anthea!--that weren't nothing,--that were only a +flea-bite, as you might say,--he give more--ah! nigh double as much as +that for the side-board." + +"Nonsense, Adam!" + +"It be gospel true, Miss Anthea. That there sideboard were the plum o' +the sale, so to speak, an' old Grimes had set 'is 'eart on it, d'ye see. +Well, it were bid up to eighty-six pound, an' then Old Grimes 'e goes +twenty more, making it a hundred an' six. Then--jest as I thought it +were all over, an' jest as that there Old Grimes were beginning to swell +hisself up wi' triumph, an' get that red in the face as 'e were a sight +to behold,--Mr. Belloo, who'd been lightin' 'is pipe all this time, up +and sez,--'Fifty up!' 'e sez in his quiet way, making it a hundred an' +fifty-six pound, Miss Anthea,--which were too much for Grimes,--Lord! I +thought as that there man were going to burst, Miss Anthea!" and Adam +gave vent to his great laugh at the mere recollection. But Anthea was +grave enough, and the troubled look in her eyes quickly sobered him. + +"A hundred and fifty-six pounds!" she repeated in an awed voice, "but +it--it is awful!" + +"Steepish!" admitted Adam, "pretty steepish for a old sideboard, I'll +allow, Miss Anthea,--but you see it were a personal matter betwixt +Grimes an' Mr. Belloo. I began to think as they never would ha' left off +biddin', an' by George!--I don't believe as Mr. Belloo ever would have +left off biddin'. Ye see, there's summat about Mr. Belloo,--whether it +be his voice, or his eye, or his chin,--I don't know,--but there be +summat about him as says, very distinct that if so be 'e should 'appen +to set 'is mind on a thing,--why 'e's a-going to get it, an' 'e ain't +a-going to give in till 'e do get it. Ye see, Miss Anthea, 'e's so very +quiet in 'is ways, an' speaks so soft, an' gentle,--p'raps that's it. +Say, for instance, 'e were to ax you for summat, an' you said +'No'--well, 'e wouldn't make no fuss about it,--not 'im,--he'd +jest--take it, that's what he'd do. As for that there sideboard he'd a +sat there a bidding and a bidding all night I do believe." + +"But, Adam, why did he do it! Why did he buy--all that furniture?" + +"Well,--to keep it from being took away, p'raps!" + +"Oh, Adam!--what am I to do?" + +"Do, Miss Anthea?" + +"The mortgage must be paid off--dreadfully soon--you know that, and--I +can't--Oh, I can't give the money back--" + +"Why--give it back!--No, a course not, Miss Anthea!" + +"But I--can't--keep it!" + +"Can't keep it, Miss Anthea mam,--an' why not?" + +"Because I'm very sure he doesn't want all those things,--the idea is +quite--absurd! And yet,--even if the hops do well, the money they bring +will hardly be enough by itself, and so--I was selling my furniture to +make it up, and--now--Oh! what am I to do?" and she leaned her head +wearily upon her hand. + +Now, seeing her distress, Adam all sturdy loyalty that he was, must +needs sigh in sympathy, and fell, once more, to twisting his hat until +he had fairly wrung it out of all semblance to its kind, twisting and +screwing it between his strong hands as though he would fain wring out +of it some solution to the problem that so perplexed his mistress. Then, +all at once, the frown vanished from his brow, his grip loosened upon +his unfortunate hat, and his eye brightened with a sudden gleam. + +"Miss Anthea," said he, drawing a step nearer, and lowering his voice +mysteriously, "supposing as I was to tell you that 'e did want that +furnitur',--ah! an' wanted it bad?" + +"Now how can he, Adam? It isn't as though he lived in England," said +Anthea, shaking her head, "his home is thousands of miles away,--he is +an American, and besides--" + +"Ah!--but then--even a American--may get married. Miss Anthea, mam!" +said Adam. + +"Married!" she repeated, glancing up very quickly, "Adam--what do you +mean?" + +"Why you must know," began Adam, wringing at his hat again, "ever since +the day I found him asleep in your hay, Miss Anthea, mam, Mr. Belloo has +been very kind, and--friendly like. Mr. Belloo an' me 'ave smoked a good +many sociable pipes together, an' when men smoke together, Miss Anthea, +they likewise talk together." + +"Yes?--Well?" said Anthea, rather breathlessly, and taking up a pencil +that happened to be lying near to hand. + +"And Mr. Belloo," continued Adam, heavily, "Mr. Belloo has done +me--the--the honour," here Adam paused to give an extra twist to his +hat,--"the--honour, Miss Anthea--" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"Of confiding to me 'is 'opes--" said Adam slowly, finding it much +harder to frame his well-meaning falsehood than he had supposed, +"his--H-O-P-E-S--'opes, Miss Anthea, of settling down very soon, an' of +marryin' a fine young lady as 'e 'as 'ad 'is eye on a goodish +time,--'aving knowed her from childhood's hour, Miss Anthea, and as +lives up to Lonnon--" + +"Yes--Adam!" + +"Consequently--'e bought all your furnitur' to set up 'ousekeepin', +don't ye see." + +"Yes,--I see, Adam!" Her voice was low, soft and gentle as ever, but the +pencil was tracing meaningless scrawls in her shaking fingers. + +"So you don't 'ave to be no-wise back-ard about keepin' the money, Miss +Anthea." + +"Oh no,--no, of course not, I--I understand, it was--just a--business +transaction." + +"Ah!--that's it,--a business transaction!" nodded Adam, "So you'll put +the money a one side to help pay off the mortgage, eh, Miss Anthea?" + +"Yes." + +"If the 'ops comes up to what they promise to come up to,--you'll be +able to get rid of Old Grimes--for good an' all, Miss Anthea." + +"Yes, Adam." + +"An' you be quite easy in your mind, now, Miss Anthea--about keepin' the +money?" + +"Quite!--Thank you, Adam--for--telling me. You can go now." + +"Why then--Good-night! Miss Anthea, mam,--the mortgage is as good as +paid,--there ain't no such 'ops nowhere near so good as our'n be. +An'--you're quite free o' care, an' 'appy 'earted, Miss Anthea?" + +"Quite--Oh quite, Adam!" + +But when Adam's heavy tread had died away,--when she was all alone, she +behaved rather strangely for one so free of care, and happy-hearted. +Something bright and glistening splashed upon the paper before her, the +pencil slipped from her fingers, and, with a sudden, choking cry, she +swayed forward, and hid her face in her hands. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +_In which Adam proposes a game_ + +"To be, or not to be!" Bellew leaned against the mighty bole of "King +Arthur," and stared up at the moon with knitted brows. "That is the +question!--whether I shall brave the slings, and arrows and things, +and--speak tonight, and have done with it--one way or another, or live +on, a while, secure in this uncertainty? To wait? Whether I shall, at +this so early stage, pit all my chances of happiness against the chances +of--losing her, and with her--Small Porges, bless him! and all the +quaint, and lovable beings of this wonderful Arcadia of mine. For, if +her answer be 'No,'--what recourse have I,--what is there left me but to +go wandering forth again, following the wind, and with the gates of +Arcadia shut upon me for ever? 'To be, or not to be,--that is the +question!'" + +"Be that you, Mr. Belloo, sir?" + +"Even so, Adam. Come sit ye a while, good knave, and gaze upon Dian's +loveliness, and smoke, and let us converse of dead kings." + +"Why, kings ain't much in my line, sir,--living or dead uns,--me never +'aving seen any--except a pic'ter,--and that tore, though very life +like. But why I were a lookin' for you was to ax you to back me up,--an' +to--play the game, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"Why--as to that, my good Adam,--my gentle Daphnis,--my rugged +Euphemio,--you may rely upon me to the uttermost. Are you in trouble? Is +it counsel you need, or only money? Fill your pipe, and, while you +smoke, confide your cares to me,--put me wise, or, as your French +cousins would say,--make me 'au fait.'" + +"Well," began Adam, when his pipe was well alight, "in the first place, +Mr. Belloo sir, I begs to remind you, as Miss Anthea sold her furnitur' +to raise enough money as with what the 'ops will bring, might go to pay +off the mortgage,--for good an' all, sir." + +"Yes." + +"Well, to-night, sir, Miss Anthea calls me into the parlour to ax,--or +as you might say,--en-quire as to the why, an' likewise the wherefore +of you a buyin' all that furnitur'." + +"Did she, Adam?" + +"Ah!--'why did 'e do it?' says she--'well, to keep it from bein' took +away, p'raps,' says I--sharp as any gimblet, sir." + +"Good!" nodded Bellew. + +"Ah!--but it weren't no good, sir," returned Adam, "because she sez as +'ow your 'ome being in America, you couldn't really need the +furnitur',--nor yet want the furnitur',--an' blest if she wasn't talkin' +of handing you the money back again." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"Seeing which, sir, an' because she must have that money if she 'opes to +keep the roof of Dapplemere over 'er 'ead, I, there an' then, made +up,--or as you might say,--concocted a story, a anecdote, or a +yarn,--upon the spot, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"Most excellent Machiavelli!--proceed!" + +"I told her, sir, as you bought that furnitur' on account of you being +wishful to settle down,--whereat she starts, an' looks at me wi' her +eyes big, an' surprised-like. I told 'er, likewise, as you had told me +on the quiet,--or as you might say,--con-fi-dential, that you bought +that furnitur' to set up 'ouse-keeping on account o' you being on the +p'int o' marrying a fine young lady up to Lonnon,--" + +"What!" Bellew didn't move, nor did he raise his voice,--nevertheless +Adam started back, and instinctively threw up his arm. + +"You--told her--that?" + +"I did sir." + +"But you knew it was a--confounded lie." + +"Aye,--I knowed it. But I'd tell a hundred,--ah! thousands o' lies, +con-founded, or otherwise,--to save Miss Anthea." + +"To save her?" + +"From ruination, sir! From losing Dapplemere Farm, an' every thing she +has in the world. Lord love ye!--the 'ops can never bring in by +theirselves all the three thousand pounds as is owing,--it ain't to be +expected,--but if that three thousand pound ain't paid over to that +dirty Grimes by next Saturday week as ever was, that dirty Grimes turns +Miss Anthea out o' Dapplemere, wi' Master Georgy, an' poor little Miss +Priscilla,--An' what'll become o' them then,--I don't know. Lord! when I +think of it the 'Old Adam' do rise up in me to that extent as I'm minded +to take a pitch-fork and go and skewer that there Grimes to his own +chimbley corner. Ye see Mr. Belloo sir," he went on, seeing Bellew was +silent still, "Miss Anthea be that proud, an' independent that she'd +never ha' took your money, sir, if I hadn't told her that there lie,--so +that's why I did tell her that here lie." + +"I see," nodded Bellew, "I see!--yes,--you did quite right. You acted +for the best, and you--did quite right, Adam,--yes, quite right" + +"Thankee sir!" + +"And so--this is the game I am to play, is it?" + +"That's it, sir; if she ax's you,--'are you goin' to get +married?'--you'll tell her 'yes,--to a lady as you've knowed from your +childhood's hour,--living in Lonnon,'--that's all, sir." + +"That's all is it, Adam!" said Bellew slowly, turning to look up at the +moon again. "It doesn't sound very much, does it? Well, I'll play your +game,--Adam,--yes, you may depend upon me." + +"Thankee, Mr. Belloo sir,--thankee sir!--though I do 'ope as you'll +excuse me for taking such liberties, an' making so free wi' your 'eart, +and your affections, sir?" + +"Oh certainly, Adam!--the cause excuses--everything." + +"Then, good-night, sir!" + +"Good-night, Adam!" + +So this good, well-meaning Adam strode away, proud on the whole of his +night's work, leaving Bellew to frown up at the moon with teeth clenched +tight upon his pipe-stem. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +_How Bellew began the game_ + +Now in this life of ours, there be games of many, and divers, sorts, and +all are calculated to try the nerve, courage, or skill of the player, as +the case may be. Bellew had played many kinds of games in his day, and, +among others, had once been famous as a Eight Tackle on the Harvard +Eleven. Upon him he yet bore certain scars received upon a memorable day +when Yale, flushed with success, saw their hitherto invincible line rent +and burst asunder, saw a figure torn, bruised, and bleeding, flash out +and away down the field to turn defeat into victory, and then to be +borne off honourably to hospital, and bed. + +If Bellew thought of this, by any chance, as he sat there, staring up at +the moon, it is very sure that, had the choice been given him, he would +joyfully have chosen the game of torn flesh, and broken bones, or any +other game, no matter how desperate, rather than this particular game +that Adam had invented, and thrust upon him. + +Presently Bellew knocked the ashes from his pipe, and rising, walked on +slowly toward the house. As he approached, he heard someone playing the +piano, and the music accorded well with his mood, or his mood with the +music, for it was haunting, and very sweet, and with a recurring melody +in a minor key, that seemed to voice all the sorrow of Humanity, past, +present, and to come. + +Drawn by the music, he crossed the Rose Garden, and reaching the +terrace, paused there; for the long French windows were open, and, from +where he stood, he could see Anthea seated at the piano. She was dressed +in a white gown of some soft, clinging material, and among the heavy +braids of her hair was a single great, red rose. And, as he watched, he +thought she had never looked more beautiful than now, with the soft glow +of the candles upon her; for her face reflected the tender sadness of +the music, it was in the mournful droop of her scarlet lips, and the +sombre depths of her eyes. Close beside her sat little Miss Priscilla +busy with her needle as usual, but now she paused, and lifting her head +in her quick, bird-like way, looked up at Anthea, long, and fixedly. + +"Anthea my dear," said she suddenly, "I'm fond of music, and I love to +hear you play, as you know,--but I never heard you play quite +so--dolefully? dear me, no,--that's not the right word,--nor +dismal,--but I mean something between the two." + +"I thought you were fond of Grieg, Aunt Priscilla." + +"So I am, but then, even in his gayest moments, poor Mr. Grieg was +always breaking his heart over something, or other. And-- +Gracious!--there's Mr. Bellew at the window. Pray come in, Mr. Bellew, +and tell us how you liked Peterday, and the muffins?" + +"Thank you!" said Bellew, stepping in through the long French window, +"but I should like to hear Miss Anthea play again, first, if she will?" + +But Anthea, who had already risen from the piano, shook her head: + +"I only play when I feel like it,--to please myself,--and Aunt +Priscilla," said she, crossing to the broad, low window-seat, and +leaning out into the fragrant night. + +"Why then," said Bellew, sinking into the easy-chair that Miss Priscilla +indicated with a little stab of her needle, "why then the muffins were +delicious, Aunt Priscilla, and Peterday was just exactly what a +one-legged mariner ought to be." + +"And the shrimps, Mr. Bellew?" enquired Miss Priscilla, busy at her +sewing again. + +"Out-shrimped all other shrimps so ever!" he answered, glancing to where +Anthea sat with her chin propped in her hand, gazing up at the waning +moon, seemingly quite oblivious of him. + +"And did--_He_--pour out the tea?" enquired Miss Priscilla, "from the +china pot with the blue flowers and the Chinese Mandarin fanning +himself,--and very awkward, of course, with his one hand,--I don't mean +the Mandarin, Mr. Bellew,--and very full of apologies?" + +"He did." + +"Just as usual; yes he always does,--and every year he gives me three +lumps of sugar,--and I only take one, you know. It's a pity," sighed +Miss Priscilla, "that it was his right arm,--a great pity!" And here she +sighed again, and, catching herself, glanced up quickly at Bellew, and +smiled to see how completely absorbed he was in contemplation of the +silent figure in the window-seat. "But, after all, better a right +arm--than a leg," she pursued,--"at least, I think so!" + +"Certainly!" murmured Bellew. + +"A man with only one leg, you see, would be almost as helpless as +an--old woman with a crippled foot,--" + +"Who grows younger, and brighter, every year!" added Bellew, turning to +her with his pleasant smile, "yes, and I think,--prettier!" + +"Oh, Mr. Bellew!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla shaking her head at him +reprovingly, yet looking pleased, none the less,--"how can you be so +ridiculous,--Good gracious me!" + +"Why, it was the Sergeant who put it into my head,--" + +"The Sergeant?" + +"Yes,--it was after I had given him your message about peaches, Aunt +Priscilla and--" + +"Oh dear heart!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, at this juncture, "Prudence +is out, to-night, and I promised to bake the bread for her, and here I +sit chatting, and gossipping while that bread goes rising, and rising +all over the kitchen!" And Miss Priscilla laid aside her sewing, and +catching up her stick, hurried to the door. + +"And I was almost forgetting to wish you 'many happy returns of the day, +Aunt Priscilla!'" said Bellew, rising. + +At this familiar appellation, Anthea turned sharply, in time to see him +stoop, and kiss Miss Priscilla's small, white hand; whereupon Anthea +must needs curl her lip at his broad back. Then he opened the door, and +Miss Priscilla tapped away, even more quickly than usual. + +Anthea was half-sitting, half-kneeling among the cushions in the corner +of the deep window, apparently still lost in contemplation of the moon. +So much so, that she did not stir, or even lower her up-ward gaze, when +Bellew came, and stood beside her. + +Therefore, taking advantage of the fixity of her regard, he, once more, +became absorbed in her loveliness. Surely a most unwise proceeding--in +Arcadia, by the light of a midsummer moon! And he mentally contrasted +the dark, proud beauty of her face, with that of all the women he had +ever known,--to their utter, and complete disparagement. + +"Well?" enquired Anthea, at last, perfectly conscious of his look, and +finding the silence growing irksome, yet still with her eyes +averted,--"Well, Mr. Bellew?" + +"On the contrary," he answered, "the moon is on the wane!" + +"The moon!" she repeated, "Suppose it is,--what then?" + +"True happiness can only come riding astride the full moon you +know,--you remember old Nannie told us so." + +"And you--believed it?" she enquired scornfully. + +"Why, of course!" he answered in his quiet way. + +Anthea didn't speak but, once again, the curl of her lip was eloquent. + +"And so," he went on, quite unabashed, "when I behold Happiness riding +astride the full moon, I shall just reach up, in the most natural manner +in the world, and--take it down, that it may abide with me, world +without end." + +"Do you think you will be tall enough?" + +"We shall see,--when the time comes." + +"I think it's all very ridiculous!" said Anthea. + +"Why then--suppose you play for me, that same, plaintive piece you were +playing as I came in,--something of Grieg's I think it was,--will you, +Miss Anthea?" + +She was on the point of refusing, then, as if moved by some capricious +whim, she crossed to the piano, and dashed into the riotous music of a +Polish Dance. As the wild notes leapt beneath her quick, brown fingers, +Bellew, seated near-by, kept his eyes upon the great, red rose in her +hair, that nodded slyly at him with her every movement. And surely, in +all the world, there had never bloomed a more tantalizing, more wantonly +provoking rose than this! Wherefore Bellew, very wisely, turned his eyes +from its glowing temptation. Doubtless observing which, the rose, in +evident desperation, nodded, and swayed, until, it had fairly nodded +itself from its sweet resting-place, and, falling to the floor, lay +within Bellew's reach. Whereupon, he promptly stooped, and picked it up, +and,--even as, with a last, crashing chord, Anthea ceased playing, and +turned, in that same moment he dropped it deftly into his coat pocket. + +"Oh! by the way, Mr. Bellew," she said, speaking as if the idea had but +just entered her mind, "what do you intend to do about--all your +furniture?" + +"Do about it?" he repeated, settling the rose carefully in a corner of +his pocket where it would not be crushed by his pipe. + +"I mean--where would you like it--stored until you can send, and have +it--taken away?" + +"Well,--I--er--rather thought of keeping it--where it was if you didn't +mind." + +"I'm afraid that will be--impossible, Mr. Bellew." + +"Why then the barn will be an excellent place for it, I don't suppose +the rats and mice will do it any real harm, and as for the damp, and +the dust--" + +"Oh! you know what I mean!" exclaimed Anthea, beginning to tap the floor +impatiently with her foot. "Of course we can't go on using the things +now that they are your property, it--wouldn't be--right." + +"Very well," he nodded, his fingers questing anxiously after the rose +again, "I'll get Adam to help me to shift it all into the barn, +to-morrow morning." + +"Will you please be serious, Mr. Bellew!" + +"As an owl!" he nodded. + +"Why then--of course you will be leaving Dapplemere soon, and I should +like to know exactly when, so that I can--make the necessary +arrangements." + +"But you see, I am not leaving Dapplemere soon or even thinking of it." + +"Not?" she repeated, glancing up at him in swift surprise. + +"Not until--you bid me." + +"I?" + +"You!" + +"But I--I understood that you--intend to--settle down?" + +"Certainly!" nodded Bellew, transferring his pipe to another pocket +altogether, lest it should damage the rose's tender petals. "To settle +down has lately become the--er--ambition of my life." + +"Then pray," said Anthea, taking up a sheet of music, and beginning to +study it with attentive eyes, "be so good as to tell me--what you mean." + +"That necessarily brings us back to the moon again," answered Bellew. + +"The moon?" + +"The moon!" + +"But what in the world has the moon to do with your furniture?" she +demanded, her foot beginning to tap again. + +"Everything!--I bought that furniture with--er--with one eye on the +moon, as it were,--consequently the furniture, the moon, and I, are +bound indissolubly together." + +"You are pleased to talk in riddles, to-night, and really, Mr. Bellew, I +have no time to waste over them, so, if you will excuse me--" + +"Thank you for playing to me," he said, as he held the door open for +her. + +"I played because I--I felt like it, Mr. Bellew." + +"Nevertheless, I thank you." + +"When you make up your mind about--the furniture,--please let me know." + +"When the moon is at the full, yes." + +"Can it be possible that you are still harping on the wild words of poor +old Nannie?" she exclaimed, and once more, she curled her lip at him. + +"Nannie is very old, I'll admit," he nodded, "but surely you remember +that we proved her right in one particular,--I mean about the Tiger +Mark, you know." + +Now, when he said this, for no apparent reason, the eyes that had +hitherto been looking into his, proud and scornful,--wavered, and were +hidden under their long, thick lashes; the colour flamed in her cheeks, +and, without another word, she was gone. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +_How the Sergeant went upon his guard_ + +The Arcadians, one and all, generally follow that excellent maxim which +runs: + +"Early to bed, and early to rise Makes a man healthy, and wealthy, and +wise." + +Healthy they are, beyond a doubt, and, in their quaint, simple fashion, +profoundly wise. If they are not extraordinarily wealthy, yet are they +generally blessed with contented minds which, after all, is better than +money, and far more to be desired than fine gold. + +Now whether their general health, happiness, and wisdom is to be +attributed altogether to their early to bed proclivities, is perhaps a +moot question. Howbeit, to-night, long after these weary Arcadians had +forgotten their various cares, and troubles in the blessed oblivion of +sleep, (for even Arcadia has its troubles) Bellew sat beneath the shade +of "King Arthur" alone with his thoughts. + +Presently, however, he was surprised to hear the house-door open, and +close very softly, and to behold--not the object of his meditations, but +Miss Priscilla coming towards him. + +As she caught sight of him in the shadow of the tree, she stopped and +stood leaning upon her stick as though she were rather disconcerted. + +"Aunt Priscilla!" said he, rising. + +"Oh!--it's you?" she exclaimed, just as though she hadn't known it all +along. "Dear me! Mr. Bellew,--how lonely you look, and dreadfully +thoughtful,--good gracious!" and she glanced up at him with her quick, +girlish smile. "I suppose you are wondering what I am doing out here at +this unhallowed time of night--it must be nearly eleven o'clock. Oh dear +me!--yes you are!--Well, sit down, and I'll tell you. Let us sit +here,--in the darkest corner,--there. Dear heart!--how bright the moon +is to be sure." So saying, Miss Priscilla ensconced herself at the very +end of the rustic bench, where the deepest shadow lay. + +"Well, Mr. Bellew," she began, "as you know, to-day is my birthday. As +to my age, I am--let us say,--just turned twenty-one and, being young, +and foolish, Mr. Bellew, I have come out here to watch another very +foolish person,--a ridiculous, old Sergeant of Hussars, who will come +marching along, very soon, to mount guard in full regimentals, Mr. +Bellew,--with his busby on his head, with his braided tunic and dolman, +and his great big boots, and with his spurs jingling, and his sabre +bright under the moon." + +"So then--you know he comes?" + +"Why of course I do. And I love to hear the jingle of his spurs, and to +watch the glitter of his sabre. So, every year, I come here, and sit +among the shadows, where he can't see me, and watch him go march, march, +marching up and down, and to and fro, until the clock strikes twelve, +and he goes marching home again. Oh dear me!--it's all very foolish, of +course,--but I love to hear the jingle of his spurs." + +"And--have you sat here watching him, every year?" + +"Every year!" + +"And he has never guessed you were watching him?" + +"Good gracious me!--of course not." + +"Don't you think, Aunt Priscilla, that you are--just a little--cruel?" + +"Cruel--why--what do you mean?" + +"I gave him your message, Aunt Priscilla." + +"What message?" + +"That 'to-night, the peaches were riper than ever they were.'" + +"Oh!" said Miss Priscilla, and waited expectantly for Bellew to +continue. But, as he was silent she glanced at him, and seeing him +staring at the moon, she looked at it, also. And after she had gazed for +perhaps half a minute, as Bellew was still silent, she spoke, though in +a very small voice indeed. + +"And--what did--he say?" + +"Who?" enquired Bellew. + +"Why the--the Sergeant, to be sure." + +"Well, he gave me to understand that a poor, old soldier with only one +arm left him, must be content to stand aside, always and--hold his +peace, just because he was a poor, maimed, old soldier. Don't you think +that you have been--just a little cruel--all these years, Aunt +Priscilla?" + +"Sometimes--one is cruel--only to be--kind!" she answered. + +"Aren't the peaches ripe enough, after all, Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Over-ripe!" she said bitterly, "Oh--they are over-ripe!" + +"Is that all, Aunt Priscilla?" + +"No," she answered, "no, there's--this!" and she held up her little +crutch stick. + +"Is that all, Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Oh!--isn't--that enough?" Bellew rose. "Where are you going--What are +you going to do?" she demanded. + +"Wait!" said he, smiling down at her perplexity, and so he turned, and +crossed to a certain corner of the orchard. When he came back he held +out a great, glowing peach towards her. + +"You were quite right," he nodded, "it was so ripe that it fell at a +touch." + +But, as he spoke, she drew him down beside her in the shadow: + +"Hush!" she whispered, "Listen!" + +Now as they sat there, very silent,--faint and far-away upon the still +night air, they heard a sound; a silvery, rhythmic sound, it was,--like +the musical clash of fairy cymbals which drew rapidly nearer, and +nearer; and Bellew felt that Miss Priscilla's hand was trembling upon +his arm as she leaned forward, listening with a smile upon her parted +lips, and a light in her eyes that was ineffably tender. + +Nearer came the sound, and nearer, until, presently, now in moonlight, +now in shadow, there strode a tall, martial figure in all the glory of +braided tunic, and furred dolman, the three chevrons upon his sleeve, +and many shining medals upon his breast,--a stalwart, soldierly figure, +despite the one empty sleeve, who moved with the long, swinging stride +that only the cavalry-man can possess. Being come beneath a certain +latticed window, the Sergeant halted, and, next moment, his glittering +sabre flashed up to the salute; then, with it upon his shoulder, he +wheeled, and began to march up and down, his spurs jingling, his sabre +gleaming, his dolman swinging, his sabre glittering, each time he +wheeled; while Miss Priscilla leaning forward, watched him wide-eyed, +and with hands tight clasped. Then, all at once,--with a little +fluttering sigh she rose. + +Thus, the Sergeant as he marched to and fro, was suddenly aware of one +who stood in the full radiance of the moon,--and with one hand +outstretched towards him. And now, as he paused, disbelieving his very +eyes, he saw that in her extended hand she held a great ripe peach. + +"Sergeant!" she said, speaking almost in a whisper, "Oh Sergeant--won't +you--take it?" + +The heavy sabre thudded down into the grass, and he took a sudden step +towards her. But, even now, he hesitated, until, coming nearer yet, he +could look down into her eyes. + +Then he spoke, and his voice was very hoarse, and uneven: + +"Miss Priscilla?" he said, "Priscilla?--Oh, Priscilla!" And, with the +word, he had fallen on his knees at her feet, and his strong, solitary +arm was folded close about her. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +_In which Porges Big, and Porges Small discuss the subject of Matrimony_ + +"What is it, my Porges?" + +"Well,--I'm a bit worried, you know." + +"Worried?" + +"Yes,--'fraid I shall be an old man before my time, Uncle Porges. Adam +says it's worry that ages a man,--an' it killed a cat too!" + +"And why do you worry?" + +"Oh, it's my Auntie Anthea, a course!--she was crying again last +night--" + +"Crying!" Bellew had been lying flat upon his back in the fragrant +shadow of the hay-rick, but now he sat up--very suddenly, so suddenly +that Small Porges started. "Crying!" he repeated, "last night! Are +you sure?" + +"Oh yes! You see, she forgot to come an' 'tuck me up' last night, so I +creeped downstairs,--very quietly, you know, to see why. An' I found her +bending over the table, all sobbing, an' crying. At first she tried to +pretend that she wasn't, but I saw the tears quite plain,--her cheeks +were all wet, you know; an' when I put my arms round her--to comfort her +a bit, an' asked her what was the matter, she only kissed me a lot, an' +said 'nothing! nothing,--only a headache!'" + +"And why was she crying, do you suppose, my Porges?" + +"Oh!--money, a course!" he sighed. + +"What makes you think it was money?" + +"'Cause she'd been talking to Adam,--I heard him say 'Good-night,' as I +creeped down the stairs,--" + +"Ah?" said Bellew, staring straight before him. His beloved pipe had +slipped from his fingers, and, for a wonder, lay all neglected. "It was +after she had talked with Adam, was it, my Porges?" + +"Yes,--that's why I knew it was 'bout money; Adam's always talking 'bout +morgyges, an' bills, an' money. Oh Uncle Porges, how I do--hate money!" + +"It is sometimes a confounded nuisance!" nodded Bellew. + +"But I do wish we had some,--so we could pay all her bills, an' morgyges +for her. She'd be so happy, you know, an' go about singing like she used +to,--an' I shouldn't worry myself into an old man before my time,--all +wrinkled, an' gray, you know; an' all would be revelry, an' joy, if only +she had enough gold, an' bank-notes!" + +"And she was--crying, you say!" demanded Bellew again, his gaze still +far away. + +"Yes." + +"You are quite sure you saw the--tears, my Porges?" + +"Oh yes! an' there was one on her nose, too,--a big one, that shone +awful' bright,--twinkled, you know." + +"And she said it was only a headache, did she?" + +"Yes, but that meant money,--money always makes her head ache, lately. +Oh Uncle Porges!--I s'pose people do find fortunes, sometimes, +don't they?" + +"Why yes, to be sure they do." + +"Then I wish I knew where they looked for them," said he with a very big +sigh indeed, "I've hunted an' hunted in all the attics, an' the +cupboards, an' under hedges, an' in ditches, an' prayed, an' prayed, you +know,--every night." + +"Then, of course, you'll be answered, my Porges." + +"Do you really s'pose I shall be answered? You see it's such an awful' +long way for one small prayer to have to go,--from here to heaven. An' +there's clouds that get in the way; an' I'm 'fraid my prayers aren't +quite big, or heavy enough, an' get lost, an' blown away in the wind." + +"No, my Porges," said Bellew, drawing his arm about the small +disconsolate figure, "you may depend upon it that your prayers fly +straight up into heaven, and that neither the clouds, nor the wind can +come between, or blow them away. So just keep on praying, old chap, and +when the time is ripe, they'll be answered, never fear." + +"Answered?--Do you mean,--oh Uncle Porges!--do you mean--the Money +Moon?" The small hand upon Bellew's arm, quivered, and his voice +trembled with eagerness. + +"Why yes, to be sure,--the Money Moon, my Porges,--it's bound to come, +one of these fine nights." + +"Ah!--but when,--oh! when will the Money Moon ever come?" + +"Well, I can't be quite sure, but I rather fancy, from the look of +things, my Porges, that it will be pretty soon." + +"Oh, I do hope so!--for her sake, an' my sake. You see, she may go +getting herself married to Mr. Cassilis, if something doesn't happen +soon, an' I shouldn't like that, you know." + +"Neither should I, my Porges. But what makes you think so?" + +"Why he's always bothering her, an' asking her to, you see. She always +says 'No' a course, but--one of these fine days, I'm 'fraid she'll say +'Yes'--accidentally, you know." + +"Heaven forbid, nephew!" + +"Does that mean you hope not?" + +"Indeed yes." + +"Then I say heaven forbid, too,--'cause I don't think she'd ever be +happy in Mr. Cassilis's great, big house. An' I shouldn't either." + +"Why, of course not!" + +"_You_ never go about asking people to marry you, do you Uncle Porges!" + +"Well, it could hardly be called a confirmed habit of mine." + +"That's one of the things I like about you so,--all the time you've been +here you haven't asked my Auntie Anthea once, have you?" + +"No, my Porges,--not yet." + +"Oh!--but you don't mean that you--ever will?" + +"Would you be very grieved, and angry, if I did,--some day soon, my +Porges?" + +"Well, I--I didn't think you were that kind of a man!" answered Small +Porges, sighing and shaking his head regretfully. + +"I'm afraid I am, nephew." + +"Do you really mean that you want to--marry my Auntie Anthea?" + +"I do." + +"As much as Mr. Cassilis does?" + +"A great deal more, I think." + +Small Porges sighed again, and shook his head very gravely indeed: + +"Uncle Porges," said he, "I'm--s'prised at you!" + +"I rather feared you would be, nephew." + +"It's all so awful' silly, you know!--why do you want to marry her?" + +"Because, like a Prince in a fairy tale, I'm--er--rather anxious +to--live happy ever after." + +"Oh!" said Small Porges, turning this over in his mind, "I never thought +of that." + +"Marriage is a very important institution, you see, my +Porges,--especially in this case, because I can't possibly live happy +ever after, unless I marry--first--now can I?" + +"No, I s'pose not!" Small Porges admitted, albeit reluctantly, after he +had pondered the matter a while with wrinkled brow, "but why pick +out--my Auntie Anthea?" + +"Just because she happens to be your Auntie Anthea, of course." + +Small Porges sighed again: + +"Why then, if she's got to be married some day, so she can live happy +ever after,--well,--I s'pose you'd better take her, Uncle Porges." + +"Thank you, old chap,--I mean to." + +"I'd rather you took her than Mr. Cassilis, an'--why there he is!" + +"Who?" + +"Mr. Cassilis. An' he's stopped, an' he's twisting his mestache." + +Mr. Cassilis, who had been crossing the paddock, had indeed stopped, +and was twisting his black moustache, as if he were hesitating between +two courses. Finally, he pushed open the gate, and, approaching Bellew, +saluted him with that supercilious air which Miss Priscilla always +declared she found so "trying." + +"Ah, Mr. Bellew! what might it be this morning,--the pitchfork--the +scythe, or the plough?" he enquired. + +"Neither, sir,--this morning it is--matrimony!" + +"Eh!--I beg your pardon,--matrimony?" + +"With a large M, sir," nodded Bellew, "marriage, sir,--wedlock; my +nephew and I are discussing it in its aspects philosophical, +sociological, and--" + +"That is surely rather a--peculiar subject to discuss with a child, Mr. +Bellew--" + +"Meaning my nephew, sir?" + +"I mean--young George, there." + +"Precisely,--my nephew, Small Porges." + +"I refer," said Mr. Cassilis, with slow, and crushing emphasis, "to Miss +Devine's nephew--" + +"And mine, Mr. Cassilis,--mine by--er--mutual adoption, and +inclination." + +"And I repeat that your choice of subjects is--peculiar, to say the +least of it." + +"But then, mine is rather a peculiar nephew, sir. But, surely it was not +to discuss nephews,--mine or anyone else's, that you are hither come, +and our ears do wait upon you,--pray be seated, sir." + +"Thank you, I prefer to stand." + +"Strange!" murmured Bellew, shaking his head, "I never stand if I can +sit, or sit if I can lie down." + +"I should like you to define, exactly, your position--here at +Dapplemere, Mr. Bellew." + +Bellew's sleepy glance missed nothing of the other's challenging +attitude, and his ear, nothing of Mr. Cassilis's authoritative tone, +therefore his smile was most engaging as he answered: + +"My position here, sir, is truly the most--er--enviable in the world. +Prudence is an admirable cook,--particularly as regard Yorkshire +Pudding; gentle, little Miss Priscilla is the most--er Aunt-like, and +perfect of housekeepers; and Miss Anthea is our sovereign lady, before +whose radiant beauty, Small Porges and I like true knights, and gallant +gentles, do constant homage, and in whose behalf Small Porges and I do +stand prepared to wage stern battle, by day, or by night." + +"Indeed!" said Mr. Cassilis, and his smile was even more supercilious +than usual. + +"Yes, sir," nodded Bellew, "I do confess me a most fortunate, and happy, +wight who, having wandered hither and yon upon this planet of ours, +which is so vast, and so very small,--has, by the most happy chance, +found his way hither into Arcady." + +"And--may I enquire how long you intend to lead this Arcadian +existence?" + +"I fear I cannot answer that question until the full o' the moon, +sir,--at present, I grieve to say,--I do not know." + +Mr. Cassilis struck his riding-boot a sudden smart rap with his whip; +his eyes snapped, and his nostrils dilated, as he glanced down into +Bellew's imperturbable face. + +"At least you know, and will perhaps explain, what prompted you to buy +all that furniture? You were the only buyer at the sale I understand." + +"Who--bought anything, yes," nodded Bellew. + +"And pray--what was your object,--you--a stranger?" + +"Well," replied Bellew slowly, as he began to fill his pipe, "I bought +it because it was there to buy, you know; I bought it because furniture +is apt to be rather useful, now and then,--I acquired the chairs +to--er--sit in, the tables to--er--put things on, and--" + +"Don't quibble with me, Mr. Bellew!" + +"I beg your pardon, Mr. Cassilis!" + +"When I ask a question, sir, I am in the habit of receiving a direct +reply,--" + +"And when I am asked a question, Mr. Cassilis, I am in the habit of +answering it precisely as I please,--or not at all." + +"Mr. Bellew, let me impress upon you, once and for all, that Miss Devine +has friends,--old and tried friends, to whom she can always turn for aid +in any financial difficulty she may have to encounter,--friends who can +more than tide over all her difficulties without the--interference of +strangers; and, as one of her oldest friends, I demand to know by what +right you force your wholly unnecessary assistance upon her?" + +"My very good sir," returned Bellew, shaking his head in gentle reproof, +"really, you seem to forget that you are not addressing one of your +grooms, or footmen,--consequently you force me to remind you of the +fact; furthermore,--" + +"That is no answer!" said Mr. Cassilis, his gloved hands tight-clenched +upon his hunting-crop,--his whole attitude one of menace. + +"Furthermore," pursued Bellew placidly, settling the tobacco in his pipe +with his thumb, "you can continue to--er demand, until all's blue, and I +shall continue to lie here, and smoke, and gaze up at the smiling +serenity of heaven." + +The black brows of Mr. Cassilis met in a sudden frown, he tossed his +whip aside, and took a sudden quick stride towards the recumbent Bellew +with so evident an intention, that Small Porges shrank instinctively +further within the encircling arm. + +But, at that psychic moment, very fortunately for all concerned, there +came the sound of a quick, light step, and Anthea stood between them. + +"Mr. Cassilis!--Mr. Bellew!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed, and her +bosom heaving with the haste she had made, "pray whatever does +this mean?" + +Bellew rose to his feet, and seeing Cassilis was silent, shook his head +and smiled: + +"Upon my word, I hardly know, Miss Anthea. Our friend Mr. Cassilis seems +to have got himself all worked up over the--er--sale, I fancy--" + +"The furniture!" exclaimed Anthea, and stamped her foot with vexation. +"That wretched furniture! Of course you explained your object in buying +it, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Well, no,--we hadn't got as far as that." + +Now when he said this, Anthea's eyes flashed sudden scorn at him, and +she curled her lip at him, and turned her back upon him: + +"Mr. Bellew bought my furniture because he intends to set up +house-keeping--he is to be married--soon, I believe." + +"When the moon is at the full!" nodded Bellew. + +"Married!" exclaimed Mr. Cassilis, his frown vanishing as if by magic. +"Oh, indeed--" + +"I am on my way to the hop-gardens, if you care to walk with me, Mr. +Cassilis?" and, with the words, Anthea turned, and, as he watched them +walk away, together,--Bellew noticed upon the face of Mr. Cassilis an +expression very like triumph, and, in his general air, a suggestion of +proprietorship that jarred upon him most unpleasantly. + +"Why do you frown so, Uncle Porges?" + +"I--er--was thinking, nephew." + +"Well, I'm thinking, too!" nodded Small Porges, his brows knitted +portentously. And thus they sat, Big, and Little Porges, frowning in +unison at space for quite a while. + +"Are you quite sure you never told my Auntie Anthea that you were going +to marry her?" enquired Small Porges, at last. + +"Quite sure, comrade,--why?" + +"Then how did she know you were going to marry her, an' settle down?" + +"Marry--her, and settle down?" + +"Yes,--at the full o' the moon, you know." + +"Why really--I don't know, my Porges,--unless she guessed it." + +"I specks she did,--she's awful' clever at guessing things! But, do you +know--" + +"Well?" + +"I'm thinking I don't just like the way she smiled at Mr. Cassilis, I +never saw her look at him like that before,--as if she were awful' glad +to see him, you know; so I don't think I'd wait till the full o' the +moon, if I were you. I think you'd better marry her--this afternoon." + +"That," said Bellew, clapping him on the shoulder, "is a very admirable +idea,--I'll mention it to her on the first available opportunity, +my Porges." + +But the opportunity did not come that day, nor the next, nor the next +after that, for it seemed that with the approach of the "Hop-picking" +Anthea had no thought, or time, for anything else. + +Wherefore Bellew smoked many pipes, and, as the days wore on, possessed +his soul in patience, which is a most excellent precept to follow--in +all things but love. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +_Which relates a most extraordinary conversation_ + +In the days which now ensued, while Anthea was busied out of doors and +Miss Priscilla was busied indoors, and Small Porges was diligently +occupied with his lessons,--at such times, Bellew would take his pipe +and go to sit and smoke in company with the Cavalier in the great +picture above the carved chimney-piece. + +A right jovial companion, at all times, was this Cavalier, an optimist +he, from the curling feather in his broad-brimmed beaver hat, to the +spurs at his heels. Handsome, gay, and debonair was he, with lips +up-curving to a smile beneath his moustachio, and a quizzical light in +his grey eyes, very like that in Bellew's own. Moreover he wore the +knowing, waggish air of one well versed in all the ways of the world, +and mankind in general, and, (what is infinitely more),--of the Sex +Feminine, in particular. Experienced was he, beyond all doubt, in their +pretty tricks, and foibles, since he had ever been a diligent student of +Feminine Capriciousness when the "Merry Monarch" ruled the land. + +Hence, it became customary for Bellew to sit with him, and smoke, and +take counsel of this "preux chevalier" upon the unfortunate turn of +affairs. Whereof ensued many remarkable conversations of which the +following, was one: + +BELLEW: No sir,--emphatically I do not agree with you. To be sure, you +may have had more experience than I, in such affairs,--but then, it was +such a very long time ago. + +THE CAVALIER: (Interrupting, or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Again, I beg to differ from you, women are not the same to-day +as they ever were. Judging by what I have read of the ladies of your +day, and King Charles's court at Whitehall,--I should say--not. At +least, if they are, they act differently, and consequently must +be--er--wooed differently. The methods employed in your day would be +wholly inadequate and quite out of place, in this. + +THE CAVALIER: (Shaking his head and smirking,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Well, I'm willing to bet you anything you like that if you were +to step down out of your frame, change your velvets and laces for +trousers and coat, leave off your great peruke, and wear a derby hat +instead of that picturesque, floppy affair, and try your fortune with +some Twentieth Century damsel, your high-sounding gallantries, and +flattering phrases, would fall singularly flat, and you would be +promptly--turned down, sir. + +THE CAVALIER: (Tossing his love-locks,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: The "strong hand," you say? Hum! History tells us that William +the Conqueror wooed his lady with a club, or a battle-axe, or something +of the sort, and she consequently liked him the better for it; which was +all very natural, and proper of course, in her case, seeing that hers +was the day of battle-axes, and things. But then, as I said before, +sir,--the times are sadly changed,--women may still admire strength of +body, and even--occasionally--of mind, but the theory of "Dog, woman, +and walnut tree" is quite obsolete. + +THE CAVALIER: (Frowning and shaking his head,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Ha!--you don't believe me? Well, that is because you are +obsolete, too;--yes sir, as obsolete as your hat, or your boots, or your +long rapier. Now, for instance, suppose I were to ask your advice in my +own case? You know precisely how the matter stands at present, between +Miss Anthea and myself. You also know Miss Anthea personally, since you +have seen her much and often, and have watched her grow from childhood +into--er--glorious womanhood,--I repeat sir glorious womanhood. Thus, +you ought to know, and understand her far better than I,--for I do +confess she is a constant source of bewilderment to me. Now, since you +do know her so well,--what course should you adopt, were you in +my place? + +THE CAVALIER: (Smirking more knowingly than ever,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Preposterous! Quite absurd!--and just what I might have +expected. Carry her off, indeed! No no, we are not living in your bad, +old, glorious days when a maid's "No" was generally taken to mean +"Yes"--or when a lover might swing his reluctant mistress up to his +saddle-bow, and ride off with her, leaving the world far behind. To-day +it is all changed,--sadly changed. Your age was a wild age, a violent +age, but in some respects, perhaps, a rather glorious age. Your advice +is singularly characteristic, and, of course, quite impossible, +alas!--Carry her off, indeed! + +Hereupon, Bellew sighed, and turning away, lighted his pipe, which had +gone out, and buried himself in the newspaper. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +_Of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax, and the third finger of the left +hand_ + +So Bellew took up the paper. The house was very quiet, for Small Porges +was deep in the vexatious rules of the Multiplication Table, and +something he called "Jogafrey," Anthea was out, as usual, and Miss +Priscilla was busied with her numerous household duties. Thus the +brooding silence was unbroken save for the occasional murmur of a voice, +the jingle of the housekeeping keys, and the quick, light tap, tap, of +Miss Priscilla's stick. + +Therefore, Bellew read the paper, and let it be understood that he +regarded the daily news-sheet as the last resource of the utterly bored. + +Now presently, as he glanced over the paper with a negative interest his +eye was attracted by a long paragraph beginning: + +At St. George's, Hanover Square, by the Right Reverend the Bishop +of----, Silvia Cecile Marchmont, to His Grace the Duke of Ryde, +K.G., K.C.B. + +Below followed a full, true, and particular account of the ceremony +which, it seemed, had been graced by Royalty. George Bellew read it half +way through, and--yawned,--positively, and actually, yawned, and +thereafter, laughed. + +"And so, I have been in Arcadia--only three weeks! I have known Anthea +only twenty-one days! A ridiculously short time, as time goes,--in any +other place but Arcadia,--and yet sufficient to lay for ever, +the--er--Haunting Spectre of the Might Have Been. Lord! what a +preposterous ass I was! Baxter was quite right,--utterly, and completely +right! Now, let us suppose that this paragraph had read: 'To-day, at St. +George's, Hanover Square, Anthea Devine to--' No no,--confound it!" and +Bellew crumpled up the paper, and tossed it into a distant corner. "I +wonder what Baxter would think of me now,--good old faithful John. The +Haunting Spectre of the Might Have Been,--What a preposterous ass!--what +a monumental idiot I was!" + +"Posterous ass, isn't a very pretty word, Uncle Porges,--or continental +idiot!" said a voice behind him, and turning, he beheld Small Porges +somewhat stained, and bespattered with ink, who shook a reproving +head at him. + +"True, nephew," he answered, "but they are sometimes very apt, and in +this instance, particularly so." + +Small Porges drew near, and, seating himself upon the arm of Bellew's +chair, looked at his adopted uncle, long, and steadfastly. + +"Uncle Porges," said he, at last, "you never tell stories, do you?--I +mean--lies, you know." + +"Indeed, I hope not, Porges,--why do you ask?" + +"Well,--'cause my Auntie Anthea's 'fraid you do." + +"Is she--hum!--Why?" + +"When she came to 'tuck me up,' last night, she sat down on my bed, an' +talked to me a long time. An' she sighed a lot, an' said she was 'fraid +I didn't care for her any more,--which was awful' silly, you know." + +"Yes, of course!" nodded Bellew. + +"An' then she asked me why I was so fond of you, an' I said 'cause you +were my Uncle Porges that I found under a hedge. An' then she got more +angrier than ever, an' said she wished I'd left you under the hedge--" + +"Did she, my Porges?" + +"Yes; she said she wished she'd never seen you, an' she'd be awful' glad +when you'd gone away. So I told her you weren't ever going away, an' +that we were waiting for the Money Moon to come, an' bring us the +fortune. An' then she shook her head, an' said 'Oh! my dear,--you +mustn't believe anything he says to you about the moon, or anything +else, 'cause he tells lies,'--an' she said 'lies' twice!" + +"Ah!--and--did she stamp her foot, Porges?" + +"Yes, I think she did; an' then she said there wasn't such a thing as a +Money Moon, an' she told me you were going away very soon, to get +married, you know." + +"And what did you say?" + +"Oh! I told her that I was going too. An' then I thought she was going +to cry, an' she said 'Oh Georgy! I didn't think you'd leave me--even for +him.' So then I had to s'plain how we had arranged that she was going to +marry you so that we could all live happy ever after,--I mean, that it +was all settled, you know, an' that you were going to speak to her on +the first--opportunity. An' then she looked at me a long time an' asked +me--was I sure you had said so. An' then she got awful' angry indeed, +an' said 'How dare he! Oh, how dare he!' So a course, I told her you'd +dare anything--even a dragon,--'cause you are so big, an' brave, you +know. So then she went an' stood at the window, an' she was so angry she +cried,--an' I nearly cried too. But at last she kissed me 'Good night' +an' said you were a man that never meant anything you said, an' that I +must never believe you any more, an' that you were going away to marry a +lady in London, an' that she was very glad, 'cause then we should all be +happy again she s'posed. So she kissed me again, an' tucked me up, an' +went away. But it was a long, long time before I could go to sleep, +'cause I kept on thinking, an' thinking s'posing there really wasn't any +Money Moon, after all! s'posing you were going to marry another lady in +London!--You see, it would all be so--frightfully awful, wouldn't it?" + +"Terribly dreadfully awful, my Porges." + +"But you never _do_ tell lies,--do you, Uncle Porges?" + +"No!" + +"An'--there _is_ a Money Moon, isn't there?" + +"Why of course there is." + +"An' you _are_ going to marry my Auntie Anthea in the full o' the moon, +aren't you?" + +"Yes, my Porges." + +"Why then--everything's all right again,--so let's go an' sit under the +hay-stack, an' talk 'bout ships." + +"But why of ships?" enquired Bellew, rising. + +"'Cause I made up my mind, this morning, that I'd be a sailor when I +grow up,--a mariner, you know, like Peterday, only I'd prefer to have +both my legs." + +"You'd find it more convenient, perhaps." + +"You know all 'bout oceans, an' waves, and billows, don't you Uncle +Porges?" + +"Well, I know a little." + +"An' are you ever sea-sick,--like a 'landlubber?'" + +"I used to be, but I got over it." + +"Was it a very big ship that you came over in?" + +"No,--not so very big, but she's about as fast as anything in her class, +and a corking sea-boat." + +"What's her name?" + +"Her name?" repeated Bellew, "well, she was called the--er 'Silvia.'" + +"That's an awful' pretty name for a ship." + +"Hum!--so so,--but I have learned a prettier, and next time she puts out +to sea we'll change her name, eh, my Porges?" + +"We?" cried Small Porges, looking up with eager eyes, "do you mean you'd +take me to sea with you,--an' my Auntie Anthea, of course?" + +"You don't suppose I'd leave either of you behind, if I could help it, +do you? We'd all sail away together--wherever you wished." + +"Do you mean," said Small Porges, in a suddenly awed voice, "that it +is--your ship,--your very own?" + +"Oh yes-" + +"But,--do you know, Uncle Porges, you don't look as though you had a +ship--for your very own, somehow." + +"Don't I?" + +"You see, a ship is such a very big thing for one man to have for his +very own self. An' has it got masts, an' funnels, an' anchors?" + +"Lots of 'em." + +"Then, please, when will you take me an' Auntie Anthea sailing all over +the oceans?" + +"Just so soon as she is ready to come." + +"Then I think I'd like to go to Nova Zembla first,--I found it in my +jogafrey to-day, an' it sounds nice an' far off, doesn't it?" + +"It does, Shipmate!" nodded Bellew. + +"Oh! that's fine!" exclaimed Small Porges rapturously, "you shall be the +captain, an' I'll be the shipmate, an' we'll say Aye Aye, to each +other--like the real sailors do in books,--shall we?" + +"Aye, aye Shipmate!" nodded Bellew again. + +"Then please, Uncle Por--I mean Captain,--what shall we name our +ship,--I mean the new name?" + +"Well, my Porges,--I mean, of course, shipmate,--I rather thought of +calling her--Hallo!--why here's the Sergeant." + +Sure enough, there was Sergeant Appleby sitting under the shade of "King +Arthur"--but who rose, and stood at attention as they came up. + +"Why Sergeant, how are you?" said Bellew, gripping the veteran's hand. +"You are half an hour before your usual time, to-day,--nothing wrong, +I hope?" + +"Nothing wrong, Mr. Bellew, sir--I thank you. No, nothing wrong, but +this--is a--memorable occasion, sir. May I trouble you to--step behind +the tree with me--for half a moment, sir?" + +Suiting the action to the word, the Sergeant led Bellew to the other +side of the tree, and there, screened from view of the house, he, with a +sudden, jerky movement, produced a very small leather case from his +pocket, which he handed to Bellew. + +"Not good enough--for such a woman--I know, but the best I could afford, +sir!" said the Sergeant appearing profoundly interested in the leaves +overhead, while Bellew opened the very small box. + +"Why--it's very handsome, Sergeant!" said Bellew, making the jewels +sparkle in the sun,--"anyone might be proud of such a ring." + +"Why, it did look pretty tidy--in the shop, sir,--to me, and Peterday. +My comrade has a sharp eye, and a sound judgment in most things, +sir--and we took--a deal of trouble in selecting it. But now--when it +comes to--giving it to _Her_,--why it looks--uncommon small, and +mean, sir." + +"A ruby, and two diamonds, and very fine stones, too, Sergeant!" + +"So I made so bold as to--come here sir," pursued the Sergeant still +interested in the foliage above, "half an hour afore my usual time--to +ask you, sir--if you would so far oblige me--as to--hand it to her--when +I'm gone, sir." + +"Lord, no!" said Bellew, smiling and shaking his head, "not on your +life, Sergeant! Why man it would lose half its value in her eyes if any +other than you gave it to her. No Sergeant, you must hand it to her +yourself, and, what's more, you must slip it upon her finger." + +"Good Lord! sir!" exclaimed the Sergeant, "I could never do that!" + +"Oh yes you could!" + +"Not unless you--stood by me--a force in reserve, as it were, sir." + +"I'll do that willingly, Sergeant." + +"Then--p 'raps sir--you might happen to know--which finger?" + +"The third finger of the left hand, I believe Sergeant." + +"Here's Aunt Priscilla now," said Small Porges, at this juncture. + +"Lord!" exclaimed the Sergeant, "and sixteen minutes afore her usual +time!" + +Yes,--there was Miss Priscilla, her basket of sewing upon her arm, as +gentle, as unruffled, as placid as usual. And yet it is probable that +she divined something from their very attitudes, for there was a light +in her eyes, and her cheeks seemed more delicately pink than was their +wont. Thus, as she came toward them, under the ancient apple-trees, +despite her stick, and her white hair, she looked even younger, and more +girlish than ever. + +At least, the Sergeant seemed to think so, for, as he met her look, his +face grew suddenly radiant, while a slow flush crept up under the tan of +his cheek, and the solitary hand he held out to her, trembled a little, +for all its size, and strength. + +"Miss Priscilla, mam--" he said, and stopped. "Miss Priscilla," he began +again, and paused once more. + +"Why--Sergeant!" she exclaimed, though it was a very soft little +exclamation indeed,--for her hand still rested in his, and so she could +feel the quiver of the strong fingers, "why--Sergeant!" + +"Miss Priscilla,--" said he, beginning all over again, but with no +better success. + +"Goodness me!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, "I do believe he is going to +forget to enquire about the peaches!" + +"Peaches!" repeated the Sergeant, "Yes, Priscilla." + +"And--why?" + +"'Cause he's brought you a ring," Small Porges broke in, "a very +handsome ring, you know, Aunt Priscilla,--all diamonds an' jewels, an' +he wants you to please let him put it on your finger--if you +don't mind." + +"And--here it is!" said the Sergeant, and gave it into her hand. + +Miss Priscilla stood very silent, and very still, looking down at the +glittering gems, then, all at once, her eyes filled, and a slow wave of +colour dyed her cheeks: + +"Oh Sergeant!" she said, very softly, "Oh Sergeant, I am only a poor, +old woman--with a lame foot!" + +"And I am a poor, old soldier--with only one arm, Priscilla." + +"You are the strongest, and gentlest, and bravest soldier in all the +world, I think!" she answered. + +"And you, Priscilla, are the sweetest, and most beautiful _woman_ in the +world, I _know!_ And so--I've loved you all these years, and--never +dared to tell you so, because of my--one arm." + +"Why then," said Miss Priscilla, smiling up at him through her tears, +"if you do--really--think that,--why,--it's this finger, Sergeant!" + +So the Sergeant, very clumsily, perhaps, because he had but the one +hand, slipped the ring upon the finger in question. And Porges, Big, and +Small, turning to glance back, as they went upon their way saw that he +still held that small white hand pressed close to his lips. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +_Coming events cast their shadows before_ + +"I s'pose they'll be marrying each other, one of these fine days!" said +Small Porges as they crossed the meadow, side by side. + +"Yes, I expect so, Shipmate," nodded Bellew, "and may they live long, +and die happy, say I." + +"Aye, aye, Captain,--an' Amen!" returned Small Porges. + +Now as they went, conversing of marriage, and ships, and the wonders, +and marvels of foreign lands,--they met with Adam who stared up at the +sky and muttered to himself, and frowned, and shook his head. + +"Good arternoon, Mr. Belloo sir,--an' Master Georgy!" + +"Well, Adam, how are the hops?" + +"'Ops sir,--there never was such 'ops,--no, not in all Kent, sir. All +I'm wishin' is that they was all safe picked, an' gathered. W'ot do you +make o' them clouds, sir,--over there,--jest over the p'int o' the +oast-house?" + +Bellew turned, and cast a comprehensive, sailor-like glance in the +direction indicated. + +"Rain, Adam, and wind,--and plenty of it!" said he. + +"Ah! so I think, sir,--driving storm, and thrashing tempest!" + +"Well, Adam?" + +"Well, sir,--p'raps you've never seen w'ot driving rain, an' raging +wind, can do among the 'op-bines, sir. All I wish is that they 'ops was +all safe picked an' gathered, sir!" And Adam strode off with his eye +still turned heaven-ward, and shaking his head like some great bird +of ill-omen. + +So the afternoon wore away to evening, and with evening, came Anthea; +but a very grave-eyed, troubled Anthea, who sat at the tea-table silent, +and preoccupied,--in so much, that Small Porges openly wondered, while +Miss Priscilla watched over her, wistful, and tender. + +Thus, Tea, which was wont to be the merriest meal of the day, was but +the pale ghost of what it should have been, despite Small Porges' flow +of conversation, (when not impeded by bread and jam), and Bellew's +tactful efforts. Now while he talked light-heartedly, keeping carefully +to generalities, he noticed two things,--one was that Anthea made but a +pretence at eating, and the second, that though she uttered a word, now +and then, yet her eyes persistently avoided his. + +Thus, he, for one, was relieved when tea was over, and, as he rose from +the table, he determined, despite the unpropitious look of things, to +end the suspense, one way or another, and speak to Anthea just so soon +as she should be alone. + +But here again he was balked and disappointed, for when Small Porges +came to bid him good-night as usual, he learned that "Auntie Anthea" had +already gone to bed. + +"She says it's a head-ache," said Small Porges, "but I 'specks it's the +hops, really, you know." + +"The hops, my Porges?" + +"She's worrying about them,--she's 'fraid of a storm, like Adam is. An' +when she worries,--I worry. Oh Uncle Porges!--if only my prayers can +bring the Money Moon--soon, you know,--very soon! If they don't bring it +in a day or two,--'fraid I shall wake up, one fine morning, an' find +I've worried, an' worried myself into an old man." + +"Never fear, Shipmate!" said Bellew in his most nautical manner, "'all's +well that ends well,'--a-low, and aloft all's a-taunto. So just take a +turn at the lee braces, and keep your weather eye lifting, for you may +be sure of this,--if the storm does come,--it will bring the Money +Moon with it." + +Then, having bidden Small Porges a cheery "Good-night"--Bellew went out +to walk among the roses. And, as he walked, he watched the flying wrack +of clouds above his head, and listened to the wind that moaned in fitful +gusts. Wherefore, having learned in his many travels to read, and +interpret such natural signs and omens, he shook his head, and muttered +to himself--even as Adam had done before him. + +Presently he wandered back into the house, and, filling his pipe, went +to hold communion with his friend--the Cavalier. + +And thus it was that having ensconced himself in the great elbow-chair, +and raised his eyes to the picture, he espied a letter tucked into the +frame, thereof. Looking closer, he saw that it was directed to himself. +He took it down, and, after a momentary hesitation, broke the seal, +and read: + +Miss Devine presents her compliments to Mr. Bellew, and regrets to say +that owing to unforeseen circumstances, she begs that he will provide +himself with other quarters at the expiration of the month, being the +Twenty-third inst. + +Bellew read the lines slowly, twice over, then, folding the note very +carefully, put it into his pocket, and stood for a long time staring at +nothing in particular. At length he lifted his head, and looked up into +the smiling eyes of the Cavalier, above the mantel. + +"Sir," said he, very gravely, "it would almost seem that you were in the +right of it,--that yours is the best method, after all!" Then he knocked +the ashes from his pipe, and went, slowly, and heavily, up-stairs +to bed. + +It was a long time before he fell asleep, but he did so at last, for +Insomnia is a demon who rarely finds his way into Arcadia. But, all at +once, he was awake again,--broad awake, and staring into the dark, for a +thousand voices seemed to be screaming in his ears, and eager hands were +shaking, and plucking at window and lattice. He started up, and then he +knew that the storm was upon them, at last, in all its fury,--rain, and +a mighty wind,--a howling raging tempest. Yes, a great, and mighty wind +was abroad,--it shrieked under the eaves, it boomed and bellowed in the +chimneys, and roared away to carry destruction among the distant woods; +while the rain beat hissing against the window-panes. + +Surely in all its many years the old house of Dapplemere had seldom +borne the brunt of such a storm, so wild,--so fierce, and pitiless! + +And, lying there upon his bed, listening to the uproar, and tumult, +Bellew must needs think of her who had once said: + +"We are placing all our hopes, this year, upon the hops!" + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +_How Small Porges, in his hour of need, was deserted by his Uncle_ + +"Ruined, sir!--Done for!--Lord love me! they ain't worth the trouble o? +gatherin'--w'ot's left on 'em, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"So bad as that, Adam?" + +"Bad!--ah, so bad as ever was, sir!" said Adam, blinking suspiciously, +and turning suddenly away. + +"Has Miss Anthea seen,--does she know?" + +"Ah! she were out at dawn, and Oh Lord, Mr. Belloo sir! I can't never +forget her poor, stricken face,--so pale and sad it were. But she never +said nothing, only: 'Oh, Adam!--my poor hops!' An' I see her lips all of +a quiver while she spoke. An' so she turned away, an' came back to the +'ouse, sir. Poor lass! Oh poor lass!" he exclaimed, his voice growing +more husky. "She's made a brave fight for it, sir,--but it weren't no +use, ye see,--it'll be 'Good-bye' for her to Dapplemere, arter all, that +there mortgage can't never be paid now,--nohow." + +"When is it due?" + +"Well, according to the bond, or the deed, or whatever they calls +it,--it be doo--tonight, at nine o'clock, sir,--though Old Grimes,--as +a special favour, an' arter much persuading,--'ad agreed to hold over +till next Saturday,--on account o' the 'op-picking. But now--seeing as +there ain't no 'ops to be picked,--why he'll fore-close to-night, an' +glad enough to do it, you can lay your oath on that, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"To-night!" said Bellew, "to-night!" and he stood, for a while with bent +head, as though lost in profound thought. "Adam," said he, suddenly, +"help me to harness the mare, I must drive over to the nearest rail-road +depot,--hurry, I must be off, the sooner, the better." + +"What!--be you--goin' sir?" + +"Yes;--hurry, man,--hurry!" + +"D'ye mean as you're a-goin' to leave her--now, in the middle o' all +this trouble?" + +"Yes, Adam,--I must go to London--on business,--now hurry, like a good +fellow." And so, together they entered the stable, and together they +harnessed the mare. Which done, staying not for breakfast, Bellew +mounted the driver's seat, and, with Adam beside him, drove +rapidly away. + +But Small Porges had seen these preparations, and now came running all +eagerness, but ere he could reach the yard, Bellew was out of ear-shot. + +So there stood Small Porges, a desolate little figure, watching the +rapid course of the dogcart until it had vanished over the brow of the +hill. And then, all at once the tears welled up into his eyes hot, and +scalding, and a great sob burst from him, for it seemed to him that his +beloved Uncle Porges had failed him at the crucial moment,--had left him +solitary just when he needed him most. + +Thus Small Porges gave way to his grief, hidden in the very darkest +corner of the stable, whither he had retired lest any should observe his +weakness, until having once more gained command of himself, and wiped +away his tears with his small, and dingy pocket-handkerchief, he slowly +re-crossed the yard, and entering the house went to look for his +Auntie Anthea. + +And, after much search, he found her--half-lying, half-kneeling beside +his bed. When he spoke to her, though she answered him, she did not look +up, and he knew that she was weeping. + +"Don't, Auntie Anthea,--don't!" he pleaded. "I know Uncle Porges has +gone away, an' left us, but you've got me left, you know,--an' I shall +be a man--very soon,--before my time, I think. So--don't cry,--though +I'm awful' sorry he's gone, too--just when we needed him the most, +you know!" + +"Oh Georgy!" she whispered, "my dear, brave little Georgy! We shall only +have each other soon,--they're going to take Dapplemere away from +us,--and everything we have in the world,--Oh Georgy!" + +"Well, never mind!" said he, kneeling beside her, and drawing one small +arm protectingly about her, "we shall always have each other left, you +know,--nobody shall ever take you away from me. An' then--there's +the--Money Moon! It's been an awful' long time coming,--but it may come +to-night, or tomorrow night. _He_ said it would be sure to come if the +storm came, an' so I'll find the fortune for you at last. I know I shall +find it _some day_ a course--'cause I've prayed, an' prayed for it so +very hard, an' _He_ said my prayers went straight up to heaven, an' +didn't get blown away, or lost in the clouds. So--don't cry, Auntie +Anthea let's wait--just a little longer--till the Money Moon comes." + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +_In which shall be found mention of a certain black bag_ + +"Baxter!" + +"Sir?" + +"Get me a pen, and ink!" + +"Yes, sir." + +Now any ordinary mortal might have manifested just a little surprise to +behold his master walk suddenly in, dusty and dishevelled of person, his +habitual languor entirely laid aside, and to thus demand pen and ink, +forthwith. But then, Baxter, though mortal, was the very cream of a +gentleman's gentleman, and the acme of valets, (as has been said), and +comported himself accordingly. + +"Baxter!" + +"Sir?" + +"Oblige me by getting this cashed." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Bring half of it in gold." + +"Sir," said Baxter, glancing down at the slip of paper, "did you +say--half, sir?" + +"Yes, Baxter,--I'd take it all in gold only that it would be rather +awkward to drag around. So bring half in gold, and the rest in--five +pound notes." + +"Very good, sir!" + +"And--Baxter!" + +"Sir?" + +"Take a cab!" + +"Certainly sir." And Baxter went out, closing the door behind him. +Meanwhile Bellew busied himself in removing all traces of his journey, +and was already bathed, and shaved, and dressed, by the time +Baxter returned. + +Now gripped in his right hand Baxter carried a black leather bag which +jingled as he set it down upon the table. + +"Got it?" enquired Bellew. + +"I have, sir." + +"Good!" nodded Bellew. "Now just run around to the garage, and fetch the +new racing car,--the Mercedes." + +"Now, sir?" + +"Now, Baxter!" + +Once more Baxter departed, and, while he was gone, Bellew began to +pack,--that is to say, he bundled coats and trousers, shirts and boots +into a portmanteau in a way that would have wrung Baxter's heart, could +he have seen. Which done, Bellew opened the black bag, glanced inside, +shut it again, and, lighting his pipe, stretched himself out upon an +ottoman, and immediately became plunged in thought. + +So lost was he, indeed, that Baxter, upon his return was necessitated to +emit three distinct coughs,--(the most perfectly proper, and +gentleman-like coughs in the world) ere Bellew was aware of +his presence. + +"Oh!--that you, Baxter?" said he, sitting up, "back so soon?" + +"The car is at the door, sir." + +"The car?--ah yes, to be sure!--Baxter." + +"Sir?" + +"What should you say if I told you--" Bellew paused to strike a match, +broke it, tried another, broke that, and finally put his pipe back into +his pocket, very conscious the while of Baxter's steady, though +perfectly respectful regard. + +"Baxter," said he again. + +"Sir?" said Baxter. + +"What should you say if I told you that I was in love--at last, +Baxter!--Head over ears--hopelessly--irretrievably?" + +"Say, sir?--why I should say,--indeed, sir?" + +"What should you say," pursued Bellew, staring thoughtfully down at the +rug under his feet, "if I told you that I am so very much, in love that +I am positively afraid to--tell her so?" + +"I should say--very remarkable, sir!" + +Bellew took out his pipe again, looked at it very much as if he had +never seen such a thing before, and laid it down upon the mantelpiece. + +"Baxter," said he, "kindly understand that I am speaking to you +as--er--man to man,--as my father's old and trusted servant and my early +boy-hood's only friend; sit down, John." + +"Thank you, Master George, sir." + +"I wish to--confess to you, John, that--er--regarding the--er--Haunting +Spectre of the Might Have Been,--you were entirely in the right. At that +time I knew no more the meaning of the--er--the word, John--" + +"Meaning the word--Love, Master George!" + +"Precisely; I knew no more about it than--that table. But during these +latter days, I have begun to understand, and--er--the fact of the matter +is--I'm--I'm fairly--up against it, John!" + +Here, Baxter, who had been watching him with his quick, sharp eyes +nodded his head solemnly: + +"Master George," said he, "speaking as your father's old servant, and +your boyhood's friend,--I'm afraid you are." + +Bellew took a turn up and down the room, and then pausing in front of +Baxter, (who had risen also, as a matter of course), he suddenly laid +his two hands upon his valet's shoulders. + +"Baxter," said he, "you'll remember that after my mother died, my father +was always too busy piling up his millions to give much time or thought +to me, and I should have been a very lonely small boy if it hadn't been +for you, John Baxter. I was often 'up against it,' in those days, John, +and you were always ready to help, and advise me;--but now,--well, from +the look of things, I'm rather afraid that I must stay 'up against +it'--that the game is lost already, John. But which ever way Fate +decides--win, or lose,--I'm glad--yes, very glad to have learned the +true meaning of--the word, John." + +"Master George, sir,--there was a poet once--Tennyson, I think, who +said,--'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at +all,' and I know--that he was--right. Many years ago,--before you were +born, Master George, I loved--and lost, and that is how I know. But I +hope that Fortune will be kinder to you, indeed I do." + +"Thank you, John,--though I don't see why she should be." And Bellew +stood staring down at the rug again, till aroused by Baxter's cough: + +"Pray sir, what are your orders, the car is waiting downstairs?" + +"Orders?--why--er--pack your grip, Baxter, I shall take you with me, +this time, into Arcadia, Baxter." + +"For how long, sir?" + +"Probably a week." + +"Very good, sir." + +"It is now half-past three, I must be back in Dapplemere at eight. Take +your time--I'll go down to look at the machine. Just lock the place up, +and--er--don't forget the black bag." + +Some ten minutes later the great racing car set out on its journey, with +Bellew at the wheel, and Baxter beside him with the black bag held +firmly upon his knee. + +Their process was, necessarily, slow at first, on account of the crowded +thoroughfares. But, every now and then, the long, low car would shoot +forward through some gap in the traffic, grazing the hubs of bus-wheels, +dodging hansoms, shaving sudden corners in an apparently reckless +manner. But Baxter, with his hand always upon the black leather bag, sat +calm and unruffled, since he knew, by long experience, that Bellew's eye +was quick and true, and his hand firm and sure upon the wheel. + +Over Westminster Bridge, and along the Old Kent Road they sped, now +fast, now slow,--threading a tortuous, and difficult way amid the myriad +vehicles, and so, betimes, they reached Blackheath. + +And now the powerful machine hummed over that ancient road that had +aforetime, shaken to the tread of stalwart Roman Legionaries,--up +Shooter's Hill, and down,--and so into the open country. + +And, ever as they went, they talked. And not as master and servant but +as "between man and man,"--wherefore Baxter the Valet became merged and +lost in Baxter the Human,--the honest John of the old days,--a gray +haired, kindly-eyed, middle-aged cosmopolitan who listened to, and +looked at, Young Alcides beside him as if he had indeed been the Master +George, of years ago. + +"So you see, John, if all things _do_ go well with me, we should +probably take a trip to the Mediterranean." + +"In the--'Silvia,' of course, Master George?" + +"Yes; though--er--I've decided to change her name, John." + +"Ah!--very natural--under the circumstances, Master George," said honest +John, his eyes twinkling slyly as he spoke, "Now, if I might suggest a +new name it would be hard to find a more original one than 'The Haunting +Spectre of the--" + +"Bosh, John!--there never was such a thing, you were quite right, as I +said before, and--by heaven,--potato sacks!" + +"Eh,--what?--potato sacks, Master George?" + +They had been climbing a long, winding ascent, but now, having reached +the top of the hill, they overtook a great, lumbering market cart, or +wain, piled high with sacks of potatoes, and driven by an extremely +surly-faced man in a smock-frock. + +"Hallo there!" cried Bellew, slowing up, "how much for one of your +potato-sacks?" + +"Get out, now!" growled the surly-faced man, in a tone as surly as his +look, "can't ye see as they're all occipied?" + +"Well,--empty one." + +"Get out, now!" repeated the man, scowling blacker than ever. + +"I'll give you a sovereign for one." + +"Now, don't ye try to come none o' your jokes wi' me, young feller!" +growled the carter. "Sovereign!--bah!--Show us." + +"Here it is," said Bellew, holding up the coin in question. "Catch!" +and, with the word, he tossed it up to the carter who caught it, very +dexterously, looked at it, bit it, rubbed it on his sleeve, rang it upon +the foot-board of his waggon, bit it again and finally pocketed it. + +"It's a go, sir," he nodded, his scowl vanishing as by magic; and as he +spoke, he turned, seized the nearest sack, and, forthwith sent a cascade +of potatoes rolling, and bounding all over the road. Which done, he +folded up the sack, and handed it down to Bellew who thrust it under the +seat, nodded, and, throwing in the clutch, set off down the road. But, +long after the car had hummed itself out of sight, and the dust of its +going had subsided, the carter sat staring after it--open-mouthed. + +If Baxter wondered at this purchase, he said nothing, only he bent his +gaze thoughtfully upon the black leather bag that he held upon his knee. + +On they sped between fragrant hedges, under whispering trees, past +lonely cottages and farm-houses, past gate, and field, and wood, until +the sun grew low. + +At last, Bellew stopped the automobile at a place where a narrow lane, +or cart track, branched off from the high road, and wound away between +great trees. + +"I leave you here," said he as he sprang from the car, "this is +Dapplemere,--the farmhouse lies over the up-land, yonder, though you +can't see it because of the trees." + +"Is it far, Master George?" + +"About half a mile." + +"Here is the bag, sir; but--do you think it is--quite safe--?" + +"Safe, John?" + +"Under the circumstances, Master George, I think it would be advisable +to--to take this with you." And he held out a small revolver. Bellew +laughed, and shook his head. + +"Such things aren't necessary--here in Arcadia, John,--besides, I have +my stick. So good-bye, for the present, you'll stay at the 'King's +Head,'--remember." + +"Good-night, Master George, sir, goodnight! and good fortune go with +you." + +"Thank you!" said Bellew, and reached out his hand, "I think we'll shake +on that, John!" + +So they clasped hands, and Bellew turned, and set off along the grassy +lane. And, presently, as he went, he heard the hum of the car grow +rapidly fainter and fainter until it was lost in the quiet of +the evening. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +_The Conspirators_ + +The shadows were creeping down, and evening was approaching, as Bellew +took his way along that winding lane that led to the House of +Dapplemere. + +Had there been anyone to see, (which there was not), they might have +noticed something almost furtive in his manner of approach, for he +walked always under the trees where the shadows lay thickest, and +paused, once or twice, to look about him warily. Being come within sight +of the house, he turned aside, and forcing his way through a gap in the +hedge, came by a roundabout course to the farm-yard. Here, after some +search, he discovered a spade, the which, (having discarded his stick), +he took upon his shoulder, and with the black leather bag tucked under +his arm, crossed the paddock with the same degree of caution, and so, at +last, reached the orchard. On he went, always in the shadow until, at +length, he paused beneath the mighty, knotted branches of "King Arthur." +Never did conspirator glance about him with sharper eyes, or hearken +with keener ears, than did George Bellew,--or Conspirator No. One, where +he now stood beneath the protecting shadow of "King Arthur,"--or +Conspirator No. Two, as, having unfolded the potato sack, he opened the +black leather bag. + +The moon was rising broad, and yellow, but it was low as yet, and "King +Arthur" stood in impenetrable gloom,--as any other thorough-going, +self-respecting conspirator should; and now, all at once, from this +particular patch of shadow, there came a sudden sound,--a rushing +sound,--a chinking, clinking, metallic sound, and, thereafter, a crisp +rustling that was not the rustling of ordinary paper. + +And now Conspirator No. One rises, and ties the mouth of the sack with +string he had brought with him for the purpose, and setting down the +sack, bulky now and heavy, by Conspirator No. Two, takes up the spade +and begins to dig. And, in a while, having made an excavation not very +deep to be sure, but sufficient to his purpose, he deposits the sack +within, covers it with soil, treads it down, and replacing the torn sod, +carefully pats it down with the flat of his spade. Which thing +accomplished, Conspirator No. One wipes his brow, and stepping forth of +the shadow, consults his watch with anxious eye, and, thereupon, +smiles,--surely a singularly pleasing smile for the lips of an +arch-conspirator to wear. Thereafter he takes up the black bag, empty +now, shoulders the spade, and sets off, keeping once more in the +shadows, leaving Conspirator No. Two to guard their guilty secret. + +Now, as Conspirator No. One goes his shady way, he keeps his look +directed towards the rising moon, and thus he almost runs into one who +also stands amid the shadows and whose gaze is likewise fixed upon +the moon. + +"Ah?--Mr. Bellew!" exclaims a drawling voice, and Squire Cassilis turns +to regard him with his usual supercilious smile. Indeed Squire Cassilis +seems to be even more self-satisfied, and smiling than ordinary, +to-night,--or at least Bellew imagines so. + +"You are still agriculturally inclined, I see," said Mr. Cassilis, +nodding towards the spade, "though it's rather a queer time to choose +for digging, isn't it?" + +"Not at all, sir--not at all," returned Bellew solemnly, "the moon is +very nearly at the full, you will perceive." + +"Well, sir,--and what of that?" + +"When the moon is at the full, or nearly so, I generally dig, sir,--that +is to say, circumstances permitting." + +"Really," said Mr. Cassilis beginning to caress his moustache, "it seems +to me that you have very--ah--peculiar tastes, Mr. Bellew." + +"That is because you have probably never experienced the fierce joys of +moon-light digging, sir." + +"No, Mr. Bellew,--digging--as a recreation, has never appealed to me at +any time." + +"Then sir," said Bellew, shaking his head, "permit me to tell you that +you have missed a great deal. Had I the time, I should be delighted to +explain to you exactly how much, as it is--allow me to wish you a very +good evening." + +Mr. Cassilis smiled, and his teeth seemed to gleam whiter, and sharper +than ever in the moon-light: + +"Wouldn't it be rather more apropos if you said--'Good-bye' Mr. Bellew?" +he enquired. "You are leaving Dapplemere, shortly, I understand,--aren't +you?" + +"Why sir," returned Bellew, grave, and imperturbable as ever,--"it all +depends." + +"Depends!--upon what, may I ask?" + +"The moon, sir." + +"The moon?" + +"Precisely!" + +"And pray--what can the moon have to do with your departure?" + +"A great deal more than you'd think--sir. Had I the time, I should be +delighted to explain to you exactly how much, as it is,--permit me to +wish you a very--good evening!" + +Saying which, Bellew nodded affably, and, shouldering his spade, went +upon his way. And still he walked in the shadows, and still he gazed +upon the moon, but now, his thick brows were gathered in a frown, and he +was wondering just why Cassilis should chance to be here, to-night, and +what his confident air, and the general assurance of his manner might +portend; above all, he was wondering how Mr. Cassilis came to be aware +of his own impending departure. And so, at last, he came to the +rick-yard,--full of increasing doubt and misgivings. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +_How the money moon rose_ + +Evening had deepened into night,--a night of ineffable calm, a night of +an all pervading quietude. A horse snorted in the stable nearby, a dog +barked in the distance, but these sounds served only to render the +silence the more profound, by contrast. It was, indeed, a night wherein +pixies, and elves, and goblins, and fairies might weave their magic +spells, a night wherein tired humanity dreamed those dreams that seem so +hopelessly impossible by day. + +And, over all, the moon rose high, and higher, in solemn majesty, +filling the world with her pale loveliness, and brooding over it like +the gentle goddess she is. Even the distant dog seemed to feel something +of all this, for, after a futile bark or two, he gave it up altogether, +and was heard no more. + +And Bellew, gazing up at Luna's pale serenity, smiled and nodded,--as +much as to say, "You'll do!" and so stood leaning upon his spade +listening to: + + "That deep hush which seems a sigh + Breathed by Earth to listening sky." + +Now, all at once, upon this quietude there rose a voice up-raised in +fervent supplication; wherefore, treading very softly, Bellew came, and +peeping round the hay-rick, beheld Small Porges upon his knees. He was +equipped for travel and the perils of the road, for beside him lay a +stick, and tied to this stick was a bundle that bulged with his most +cherished possessions. His cheeks were wet with great tears that +glistened in the moon-beams, but he wept with eyes tight shut, and with +his small hands clasped close together, and thus he spoke,--albeit much +shaken, and hindered by sobs: + +"I s'pose you think I bother you an awful lot, dear Lord,--an' so I do, +but you haven't sent the Money Moon yet, you see, an' now my Auntie +Anthea's got to leave Dapplemere--if I don't find the fortune for her +soon. I know I'm crying a lot, an' real men don't cry,--but it's only +'cause I'm awful--lonely an' disappointed,--an' nobody can see me, so it +doesn't matter. But, dear Lord, I've looked an' looked everywhere, an' I +haven't found a single sovereign yet,--an' I've prayed to you, an' +prayed to you for the Money Moon an'--it's never come. So now, dear +Lord, I'm going to Africa, an' I want you to please take care of my +Auntie Anthea till I come back. Sometimes I'm 'fraid my prayers can't +quite manage to get up to you 'cause of the clouds, an' wind, but +to-night there isn't any, so, if they do reach you, please--Oh! please +let me find the fortune, and, if you don't mind, let--_him_ come back to +me, dear Lord,--I mean my Uncle Porges, you know. An' now--that's all, +dear Lord, so Amen!" + +As the prayer ended Bellew stole back, and coming to the gate of the +rick-yard, leaned there waiting. And, presently, as he watched, he saw a +small figure emerge from behind the big hay-stack and come striding +manfully toward him, his bundle upon his shoulder, and with the moon +bright in his curls. + +But, all at once, Small Porges saw him and stopped, and the stick and +bundle fell to the ground and lay neglected. + +"Why--my Porges!" said Bellew, a trifle huskily, perhaps, "why, +Shipmate!" and he held out his hands. Then Small Porges uttered a cry, +and came running, and next moment Big Porges had him in his arms. + +"Oh, Uncle Porges!--then you--have come back to me!" + +"Aye, aye, Shipmate." + +"Why, then--my prayers _did_ reach!" + +"Why, of course,--prayers always reach, my Porges." + +"Then, oh!--do you s'pose I shall find the fortune, too?" + +"Not a doubt of it,--just look at the moon!" + +"The--moon?" + +"Why, haven't you noticed how--er--peculiar it is to-night?" + +"Peculiar?" repeated Small Porges breathlessly, turning to look at it. + +"Why, yes, my Porges,--big, you know, and--er--yellow,--like--er--like a +very large sovereign." + +"Do you mean--Oh! do you mean--it's--the--" But here Small Porges choked +suddenly, and could only look his question. + +"The Money Moon?--Oh yes--there she is at last, my Porges! Take a good +look at her, I don't suppose we shall ever see another." + +Small Porges stood very still, and gazed up at the moon's broad, yellow +disc, and, as he looked the tears welled up in his eyes again, and a +great sob broke from him. + +"I'm so--glad!" he whispered. "So--awful--glad!" Then, suddenly, he +dashed away his tears and slipped his small, trembling hand +into Bellew's. + +"Quick, Uncle Porges!" said he, "Mr. Grimes is coming to-night, you +know--an' we must find the money in time. Where shall we look first?" + +"Well, I guess the orchard will do--to start with." + +"Then let's go--now." + +"But we shall need a couple of spades, Shipmate." + +"Oh!--must we dig?" + +"Yes,--I fancy that's a--er--digging moon, my Porges, from the look of +it. Ah! there's a spade, nice and handy, you take that and +I'll--er--I'll manage with this pitchfork." + +"But you can't dig with a--" + +"Oh! well--you can do the digging, and I'll just--er--prod, you know. +Ready?--then heave ahead, Shipmate." + +So they set out, hand in hand, spade and pitch-fork on shoulder, and +presently were come to the orchard. + +"It's an awful big place to dig up a fortune in!" said Small Porges, +glancing about. "Where do you s'pose we'd better begin?" + +"Well, Shipmate, between you and me, and the pitch-fork here, I rather +fancy 'King Arthur' knows more than most people would think. Any way, +we'll try him. You dig on that side, and I'll prod on this." + +Saying which, Bellew pointed to a certain spot where the grass looked +somewhat uneven, and peculiarly bumpy, and, bidding Small Porges get to +work, went round to the other side of the great tree. + +Being there, he took out his pipe, purely from force of habit, and stood +with it clenched in his teeth, listening to the scrape of Small +Porges' spade. + +Presently he heard a cry, a panting, breathless cry, but full of a joy +unspeakable: + +"I've got it!--Oh, Uncle Porges--I've found it!" + +Small Porges was down upon his knees, pulling and tugging at a sack he +had partially unearthed, and which, with Bellew's aid, he dragged forth +into the moonlight. In the twinkling of an eye the string was cut, and +plunging in a hand Small Porges brought up a fistful of shining +sovereigns, and, among them, a crumpled banknote. + +"It's all right, Uncle Porges!" he nodded, his voice all of a quaver. +"It's all right, now,--I've found the fortune I've prayed for,--gold, +you know, an' banknotes--in a sack. Everything will be all right again +now." And, while he spoke, he rose to his feet, and lifting the sack +with an effort, swung it across his shoulder, and set off toward +the house. + +"Is it heavy, Shipmate?" + +"Awful heavy!" he panted, "but I don't mind that--it's gold, you see!" +But, as they crossed the rose-garden, Bellew laid a restraining hand +upon his shoulder. + +"Porges," said he, "where is your Auntie Anthea?" + +"In the drawing-room, waiting for Mr. Grimes." + +"Then, come this way." And turning, Bellew led Small Porges up, and +along the terrace. + +"Now, my Porges," he admonished him, "when we come to the drawing-room +windows,--they're open, you see,--I want you to hide with me in the +shadows, and wait until I give you the word--" + +"Aye, aye, Captain!" panted Small Porges. + +"When I say 'heave ahead, Shipmate,'--why, then, you will take your +treasure upon your back and march straight into the room--you +understand?" + +"Aye, aye, Captain." + +"Why, then--come on, and--mum's the word." + +Very cautiously they approached the long French windows, and paused in +the shadow of a great rose-bush, near-by. From where he stood Bellew +could see Anthea and Miss Priscilla, and between them, sprawling in an +easy chair, was Grimes, while Adam, hat in hand, scowled in the +background. + +"All I can say is--as I'm very sorry for ye, Miss Anthea," Grimes was +saying. "Ah! that I am, but glad as you've took it so well,--no crying +nor nonsense!" Here he turned to look at Miss Priscilla, whose +everlasting sewing had fallen to her feet, and lay there all unnoticed, +while her tearful eyes were fixed upon Anthea, standing white-faced +beside her. + +"And when--when shall ye be ready to--leave, to--vacate Dapplemere, +Miss Anthea?" Grimes went on. "Not as I mean to 'urry you, mind,--only I +should like you to--name a day." + +Now, as Bellew watched, he saw Anthea's lips move, but no sound came. +Miss Priscilla saw also, and catching the nerveless hand, drew it to her +bosom, and wept over it. + +"Come! come!" expostulated Grimes, jingling the money in his pockets. +"Come, come, Miss Anthea, mam!--all as I'm axing you is--when? All as I +want you to do is--" + +But here Adam, who had been screwing and wringing at his hat, now +stepped forward and, tapping Grimes upon the shoulder, pointed to +the door: + +"Mister Grimes," said he, "Miss Anthea's told ye all as you come here to +find out,--she's told ye as she--can't pay, so now,--s'pose you--go." + +"But all I want to know is when she'll be ready to move, and I ain't a +going till I do,--so you get out o' my way!" + +"S'pose you go!" repeated Adam. + +"Get out o' my way,--d'ye hear?" + +"Because," Adam went on, "if ye don't go, Mister Grimes, the 'Old Adam' +be arising inside o' me to that degree as I shall be forced to ketch you +by the collar o' your jacket, and--heave you out, Mr. Grimes, sir,--so +s'pose you go." + +Hereupon Mr. Grimes rose, put on his hat, and muttering to himself, +stamped indignantly from the room, and Adam, shutting the door upon him, +turned to Miss Anthea, who stood white-lipped and dry-eyed, while gentle +little Miss Priscilla fondled her listless hand. + +"Don't,--don't look that way, Miss Anthea," said Adam. "I'd rayther see +you cry, than look so. It be 'ard to 'ave to let the old place +go, but--" + +"Heave ahead, Shipmate!" whispered Bellew. + +Obedient to his command Small Porges, with his burden upon his back, ran +forward, and stumbled into the room. + +"It's all right, Auntie Anthea!" he cried, "I've got the fortune for +you,--I've found the money I prayed for,--here it is, oh!--here it is!" + +The sack fell jingling to the floor, and, next moment, he had poured a +heap of shining gold and crumpled banknotes at Anthea's feet. + +For a moment no one moved, then, with a strange hoarse cry, Adam had +flung himself down upon his knees, and caught up a great handful of the +gold; then while Miss Priscilla sobbed with her arms about Small Porges, +and Anthea stared down at the treasure, wide-eyed, and with her hands +pressed down upon her heart, Adam gave a sudden, great laugh, and +springing up, came running out through the window, never spying Bellew +in his haste, and shouting as he ran: + +"Grimes!" he roared, "Oh! Grimes, come back an' be paid. Come +back--we've had our little joke wi' you,--now come back an' be paid!" + +Then, at last, Anthea's stony calm was broken, her bosom heaved with +tempestuous sobs, and, next moment, she had thrown herself upon her +knees, and had clasped her arms about Small Porges and Aunt Priscilla, +mingling kisses with her tears. As for Bellew, he turned away, and, +treading a familiar path, found himself beneath the shadow of "King +Arthur." Therefore, he sat down, and lighting his pipe, stared up at the +glory of the full-orbed moon. + +"Happiness," said he, speaking his thought aloud, "'Happiness shall come +riding astride the full moon!' Now--I wonder!" + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +_In which is verified the adage of the cup and the lip_. + +Now as he sat thus, plunged in thought, he heard the voice of one who +approached intoning a familiar chant, or refrain,--the voice was harsh, +albeit not unmusical, and the words of the chant were these: + + "When I am dead, diddle diddle, as well may hap, + Bury me deep, diddle diddle, under the tap, + Under the tap, diddle diddle, I'll tell you--" + +"Lord!" exclaimed the singer, breaking off suddenly, "be that you, Mr. +Belloo, sir?" + +"Yea, in good sooth, Adam, the very same,--but you sing, Adam?" + +"Ah!--I sing, Mr. Belloo, sir, an' if you ax me why, then I tell you +because I be 'appy-'earted an' full o' j-o-y, j'y, sir. The mortgage be +paid off at last, Mr. Belloo, sir,--Miss Anthea be out o' debt,--free, +sir,--an' all along o' Master Georgy, God bless him!" + +"Oh!" said Bellew, "--er--that's good!" + +"Good!" exclaimed Adam, "Ah, Mr. Belloo sir! it be more than good,--it's +saved Miss Anthea's home for her, and--betwixt you an' me, sir,--I think +it's saved her too. An' it be all along o' that Master Georgy! Lord sir! +many's the time as I've watched that theer blessed b'y a-seekin', an' +a-searchin', a pokin' an' a pryin' round the place a-lookin' for 'is +fortun',--but, Lord bless my eyes an' limbs, sir!--I never thought as +he'd find nothin'." + +"Why, of course not, Adam." + +"Ah!--but that's jest where I were mistook, Mr. Belloo, sir,--because 'e +did." + +"Did what, Adam?" + +"Found the fortun' as he were always a-lookin' for,--a sack o' golden +soverings, sir, an' bank-notes, Mr. Belloo, sir,--bushels on 'em; +enough--ah! more 'n enough to pay off that mortgage, and to send that +theer old Grimes about his business,--an' away from Dapplemere for good +an' all, sir." + +"So Grimes is really paid off, then, is he, Adam?" + +"I done it myself, sir,--wi' these here two 'ands,--Three thousand pound +I counted over to him, an' five hundred more--in banknotes, sir, while +Miss Anthea sat by like one in a dream. Altogether there were five +thousand pound as that blessed b'y dug up out o' the orchard--done up +all in a pertater sack, under this very i-dentical tree as you'm a +set-tin' under Mr. Belloo sir. E'cod, I be half minded to take a shovel +and have a try at fortun'-huntin' myself,--only there ain't much chance +o' findin' another, hereabouts; besides--that b'y prayed for that +fortun', ah! long, an' hard he prayed, Mr. Belloo sir, an'--'twixt you +an' me, sir, I ain't been much of a pray-er myself since my old mother +died. Anyhow, the mortgage be paid off, sir, Miss Anthea's free, an' +'tis joy'ful, an' 'appy-'earted I be this night. Prudence an' me'll be +gettin' married soon now,--an' when I think of her cookin'--Lord, Mr. +Belloo sir!--All as I say is God bless Master Georgy! Good-night, sir! +an' may your dreams be as 'appy as mine,--always supposin' I do dream, +--which is seldom. Good-night, sir!" + +Long after Adam's cheery whistle had died away, Bellew sat, pipe in +mouth, staring up at the moon. At length, however, he rose, and turned +his steps towards the house. + +"Mr. Bellew!" + +He started, and turning, saw Anthea standing amid her roses. For a +moment they looked upon each other in silence, as though each dreaded to +speak, then suddenly, she turned, and broke a great rose from its stem, +and stood twisting it between her fingers. + +"Why did you--do it?" she asked. + +"Do it?" he repeated. + +"I mean the--fortune. Georgy told me--how you--helped him to find it, +and I--_know_ how it came there, of course. Why did you--do it?" + +"You didn't tell him--how it came there?" asked Bellew anxiously. + +"No," she answered, "I think it would break his heart--if he knew." + +"And I think it would have broken his heart if he had never found it," +said Bellew, "and I couldn't let that happen, could I?" Anthea did not +answer, and he saw that her eyes were very bright in the shadow of her +lashes though she kept them lowered to the rose in her fingers. + +"Anthea!" said he, suddenly, and reached out his hand to her. But she +started and drew from his touch. + +"Don't!" she said, speaking almost in a whisper, "don't touch me. Oh! I +know you have paid off the mortgage--you have bought back my home for me +as you bought back my furniture! Why?--why? I was nothing to you, or you +to me,--why have you laid me under this obligation,--you know I can +never hope to return your money--oh! why,--why did you do it?" + +"Because I--love you, Anthea, have loved you from the first. Because +everything I possess in this world is yours--even as I am." + +"You forget!" she broke in proudly, "you forget--" + +"Everything but my love for you, Anthea,--everything but that I want you +for my wife. I'm not much of a fellow, I know, but--could you learn +to--love me enough to--marry me--some day, Anthea?" + +"Would you have--dared to say this to me--before to-night?--before your +money had bought back the roof over my head? Oh! haven't I been +humiliated enough? You--you have taken from me the only thing I had +left--my independence,--stolen it from me! Oh! hadn't I been +shamed enough?" + +Now, as she spoke, she saw that his eyes were grown suddenly big and +fierce, and, in that moment, her hands were caught in his +powerful clasp. + +"Let me go!" she cried. + +"No," said he, shaking his head, "not until you tell me if you--love me. +Speak, Anthea." + +"Loose my hands!" She threw up her head proudly, and her eyes gleamed, +and her cheeks flamed with sudden anger. "Loose me!" she repeated. But +Bellew only shook his head, and his chin seemed rather more prominent +than usual, as he answered: + +"Tell me that you love me, or that you hate me--whichever it is, but, +until you do--" + +"You--hurt me!" said she, and then, as his fingers relaxed,--with a +sudden passionate cry, she had broken free; but, even so, he had caught +and swept her up in his arms, and held her close against his breast. And +now, feeling the hopelessness of further struggle, she lay passive, +while her eyes flamed up into his, and his eyes looked down into hers. +Her long, thick hair had come loose, and now with a sudden, quick +gesture, she drew it across her face, veiling it from him; wherefore, he +stooped his head above those lustrous tresses. + +"Anthea!" he murmured, and the masterful voice was strangely hesitating, +and the masterful arms about her were wonderfully gentle, "Anthea--do +you--love me?" Lower he bent, and lower, until his lips touched her +hair, until beneath that fragrant veil, his mouth sought, and found, +hers, and, in that breathless moment, he felt them quiver responsive to +his caress. And then, he had set her down, she was free, and he was +looking at her with a new-found radiance in his eyes. + +"Anthea!" he said, wonderingly, "why then--you do--?" But, as he spoke, +she hid her face in her hands. + +"Anthea!" he repeated. + +"Oh!" she whispered, "I--hate you!--despise you! Oh! you shall be paid +back,--every penny,--every farthing, and--very soon! Next week--I marry +Mr. Cassilis!" + +And so, she turned, and fled away, and left him standing there amid the +roses. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +_Which tells how Bellew left Dapplemere in the dawn_ + +Far in the East a grey streak marked the advent of another day, and upon +all things was a solemn hush, a great, and awful stillness that was like +the stillness of Death. The Earth was a place of gloom, and mist, where +spectral shadows writhed, and twisted, and flitted under a frowning +heaven, and out of the gloom there came a breath, sharp, and damp, and +exceeding chill. + +Therefore, as Bellew gazed down from the frowning Heaven to the gloom of +Earth, below, with its ever-moving, misty shapes, he shivered +involuntarily. + +In another hour it would be day, and with the day, the gates of Arcadia +would open for his departure, and he must go forth to become once more a +wanderer, going up and down, and to and fro in the world until his +course was run. + +And yet it was worth having lived for, this one golden month, and in all +his wanderings needs must he carry with him the memory of her who had +taught him how deep and high, how wide and infinitely far-reaching that +thing called "Love" may really be. + +And--Porges!--dear, quaint, Small Porges! where under heaven could he +ever find again such utter faith, such pure unaffected loyalty and +devotion as throbbed within that small, warm heart? How could he ever +bid "Good-bye" to loving, eager, little Small Porges? + +And then there was Miss Priscilla, and the strong, gentle Sergeant, and +Peterday, and sturdy Adam, and Prudence, and the rosy-cheeked maids. How +well they all suited this wonderful Arcadia! Yes, indeed he, and he +only, had been out of place, and so--he must go--back to the every-day, +matter-of-fact world, but how could he ever say "Good-bye" to faithful, +loving Small Porges? + +Far in the East the grey streak had brightened, and broadened, and was +already tinged with a faint pink that deepened, and deepened, as he +watched. Bellew had seen the glory of many a sun-rise in divers wild +places of the Earth, and, hitherto, had always felt deep within him, the +responsive thrill, the exhilaration of hope new born, and joyful +expectation of the great, unknown Future. But now, he watched the +varying hues of pink, and scarlet, and saffron, and gold, with gloomy +brow, and sombre eyes. + +Now presently, the Black-bird who lived in the apple-tree beneath his +window, (the tree of the inquisitive turn of mind), this Black-bird +fellow, opening a drowsy eye, must needs give vent to a croak, very +hoarse and feeble; then, (apparently having yawned prodigiously and +stretched himself, wing, and leg), he tried a couple of notes,--in a +hesitating, tentative sort of fashion, shook himself,--repeated the two +notes,--tried three, found them mellower, and more what the waiting +world very justly expected of him; grew more confident; tried four; +tried five,--grew perfectly assured, and so burst forth into the full, +golden melody of his morning song. + +Then Bellew, leaning out from his casement, as the first bright beams of +the rising sun gilded the top-most leaves of the tree, thus +apostrophised the unseen singer: + +"I suppose you will be piping away down in your tree there, old fellow, +long after Arcadia has faded out of my life. Well, it will be only +natural, and perfectly right, of course,--She will be here, and may, +perhaps, stop to listen to you. Now if, somehow, you could manage to +compose for me a Song of Memory, some evening when I'm gone,--some +evening when She happens to be sitting idle, and watching the moon rise +over the upland yonder; if, at such a time, you could just manage to +remind her of--me, why--I'd thank you. And so,--Good-bye, old fellow!" + +Saying which, Bellew turned from the window, and took up a certain +bulging, be-strapped portmanteau, while the Black-bird, (having, +evidently, hearkened to his request with much grave attention), fell a +singing more gloriously than ever. + +Meanwhile, Bellew descended the great, wide stair, soft of foot, and +cautious of step, yet pausing once to look towards a certain closed +door, and so, presently let himself quietly out into the dawn. The dew +sparkled in the grass, it hung in glittering jewels from every leaf, and +twig, while, now and then, a shining drop would fall upon him as he +passed, like a great tear. + +Now, as he reached the orchard, up rose the sun in all his majesty +filling the world with the splendour of his coming,--before whose kindly +beams the skulking mists and shadows shrank affrighted, and fled +utterly away. + +This morning, "King Arthur" wore his grandest robes of state, for his +mantle of green was thick sewn with a myriad flaming gems; very +different he looked from that dark, shrouded giant who had so lately +been Conspirator No. Two. Yet, perhaps for this very reason, Bellew +paused to lay a hand upon his mighty, rugged hole, and, doing so, turned +and looked back at the House of Dapplemere. + +And truly never had the old house seemed so beautiful, so quaint, and +peaceful as now. It's every stone and beam had become familiar and, as +he looked, seemed to find an individuality of its own, the very lattices +seemed to look back at him, like so many wistful eyes. + +Therefore George Bellew, American Citizen, millionaire, traveller, +explorer, and--LOVER, sighed as he turned away,--sighed as he strode on +through the green and golden morning, and resolutely--looked back +no more. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +_Of the moon's message to Small Porges, and how he told it to Bellew--in +a whisper_ + +Bellew walked on at a good pace with his back turned resolutely towards +the House of Dapplemere, and thus, as he swung into that narrow, grassy +lane that wound away between trees, he was much surprised to hear a +distant hail. Facing sharp about he espied a diminutive figure whose +small legs trotted very fast, and whose small fist waved a +weather-beaten cap. + +Bellew's first impulse was to turn, and run. But Bellew rarely acted on +impulse; therefore, he set down the bulging portmanteau, seated himself +upon it, and taking out pipe and tobacco, waited for his pursuer to +come up. + +"Oh Uncle Porges!" panted a voice, "you did walk so awful fast, an' I +called, an' called, but you never heard. An' now, please,--where are +you going?" + +"Going," said Bellew, searching through his pockets for a match, "going, +my Porges, why--er--for a stroll, to be sure,--just a walk before +breakfast, you know." + +"But then--why have you brought your bag?" + +"Bag!" repeated Bellew, stooping down to look at it, "why--so--I have!" + +"Please--why?" persisted Small Porges, suddenly anxious. "Why did +you--bring it?" + +"Well, I expect it was to--er--to bear me company. But how is it you are +out so very early, my Porges?" + +"Why, I couldn't sleep, last night, you know, 'cause I kept on thinking, +and thinking 'bout the fortune. So I got up--in the middle of the night, +an' dressed myself, an' sat in the big chair by the window, an' looked +at the Money Moon. An' I stared at it, an' stared at it till a wonderful +thing happened,--an' what do you s'pose?" + +"I don't know." + +"Well,--all at once, while I stared up at it, the moon changed itself +into a great, big face; but I didn't mind a bit, 'cause it was a very +nice sort of face,--rather like a gnome's face, only without the beard, +you know. An' while I looked at it, it talked to me, an' it told me a +lot of things,--an' that's how I know that you are--going away, 'cause +you are, you know,--aren't you?" + +"Why, my Porges," said Bellew, fumbling with his pipe, "why Shipmate, +I--since you ask me--I am." + +"Yes, I was 'fraid the moon was right," said Small Porges, and turned +away. But Bellew had seen the stricken look in his eyes, therefore he +took Small Porges in the circle of his big arm, and holding him thus, +explained to him how that in this great world each of us must walk his +appointed way, and that there must, and always will be, partings, but +that also there must and always shall be, meetings: + +"And so, my Porges, if we have to say 'Good-bye' now,--the sooner we +shall meet again,--some day--somewhere." + +But Small Porges only sighed, and shook his head in hopeless dejection. + +"Does--she--know you're going,--I mean my Auntie Anthea?" + +"Oh yes, she knows, Porges." + +"Then I s'pose that's why she was crying so, in the night--" + +"Crying?" + +"Yes;--she's cried an awful lot lately, hasn't she? Last night,--when I +woke up, you know, an' couldn't sleep, I went into her room, an' she was +crying--with her face hidden in the pillow, an' her hair all +about her--" + +"Crying!" + +"Yes; an' she said she wished she was dead. So then, a course, I tried +to comfort her, you know. An' she said 'I'm a dreadful failure, Georgy +dear, with the farm, an' everything else. I've tried to be a father and +mother to you, an' I've failed in that too,--so now, I'm going to give +you a real father,'--an' she told me she was going to marry--Mr. +Cassilis. But I said 'No'--'cause I'd 'ranged for her to marry you an' +live happy ever after. But she got awful angry again an' said she'd +never marry you if you were the last man in the world--'cause she +'spised you so--" + +"And that would seem to--settle it!" nodded Bellew gloomily, "so it's +'Good-bye' my Porges! We may as well shake hands now, and get it over," +and Bellew rose from the portmanteau, and sighing, held out his hand. + +"Oh!--but wait a minute!" cried Small Porges eagerly, "I haven't told +you what the Moon said to me, last night--" + +"Ah!--to be sure, we were forgetting that!" said Bellew with an absent +look, and a trifle wearily. + +"Why then--please sit down again, so I can speak into your ear, 'cause +what the Moon told me to tell you was a secret, you know." + +So, perforce, Bellew re-seated himself upon his portmanteau, and drawing +Small Porges close, bent his head down to the anxious little face; and +so, Small Porges told him exactly what the Moon had said. And the Moon's +message, (whatever it was), seemed to be very short, and concise, (as +all really important messages should be); but these few words had a +wondrous, and magical effect upon George Bellew. For a moment he stared +wide-eyed at Small Porges like one awaking from a dream, then the gloom +vanished from his brow, and he sprang to his feet. And, being upon his +feet, he smote his clenched fist down into the palm of his hand with a +resounding smack. + +"By heaven!" he exclaimed, and took a turn to and fro across the width +of the lane, and seeing Small Porges watching him, caught him suddenly +up in his arms, and hugged him. + +"And the moon will be at the full, tonight!" said he. Thereafter he sat +him down upon his portmanteau again, with Small Porges upon his knee, +and they talked confidentially together with their heads very close +together and in muffled tones. + +When, at last, Bellew rose, his eyes were bright and eager, and his +square chin, prominent, and grimly resolute. + +"So--you quite understand, my Porges?" + +"Yes, yes--Oh I understand!" + +"Where the little bridge spans the brook,--the trees are thicker, +there." + +"Aye aye, Captain!" + +"Then--fare thee well, Shipmate! Goodbye, my Porges,--and remember!" + +So they clasped hands, very solemnly, Big Porges, and Small Porges, and +turned each his appointed way, the one up, the other down, the lane. But +lo! as they went Small Porges' tears were banished quite; and Bellew +strode upon his way, his head held high, his shoulders squared, like one +in whom Hope has been newborn. + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +_How Anthea gave her promise_ + +"And so--he--has really gone!" Miss Priscilla sighed as she spoke, and +looked up from her needle-work to watch Anthea who sat biting her pen, +and frowning down at the blank sheet of paper before her. "And so, he +is--really--gone?" + +"Who--Mr. Bellew? Oh yes!" + +"He went--very early!" + +"Yes." + +"And--without any breakfast!" + +"That was--his own fault!" said Anthea. + +"And without even--saying 'Good-bye'!" + +"Perhaps he was in a hurry," Anthea suggested. + +"Oh dear me, no my dear! I don't believe Mr. Bellew was ever in a hurry +in all his life." + +"No," said Anthea, giving her pen a vicious bite, "I don't believe he +ever was; he is always so--hatefully placid, and deliberate!" and here, +she bit her pen again. + +"Eh, my dear?" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, pausing with her needle in +mid-air, "did you say--hatefully?" + +"Yes." + +"Anthea!" + +"I--hate him, Aunt Priscilla!" + +"Eh?--My dear!" + +"That was why I--sent him away." + +"You--sent him away?" + +"Yes." + +"But--Anthea--why?" + +"Oh Aunt Priscilla!--surely you never--believed in the--fortune? Surely +you guessed it was--_his_ money that paid back the mortgage,--didn't +you, Aunt,--didn't you?" + +"Well, my dear--. But then--he did it so very--tactfully, and--and--I +had hoped, my dear that--" + +"That I should--marry him, and settle the obligation that way, perhaps?" + +"Well, yes my dear, I did hope so--" + +"Oh!--I'm going to marry--" + +"Then why did you send--" + +"I'm going to marry Mr. Cassilis--whenever he pleases!" + +"Anthea!" The word was a cry, and her needle-work slipped from Miss +Priscilla's nerveless fingers. + +"He asked me to write and tell him if ever I changed my mind--" + +"Oh--my dear! my dear!" cried Miss Priscilla reaching out imploring +hands, "you never mean it,--you are all distraught to-day--tired, and +worn out with worry, and loss of sleep,--wait!" + +"Wait!" repeated Anthea bitterly, "for what?" + +"To--marry--him! O Anthea! you never mean it? Think,--think what you are +doing." + +"I thought of it all last night, Aunt Priscilla, and all this morning, +and--I have made up my mind." + +"You mean to write--?" + +"Yes." + +"To tell Mr. Cassilis that you will--marry him?" + +"Yes." + +But now Miss Priscilla rose, and, next moment, was kneeling beside +Anthea's chair. + +"Oh my dear!" she pleaded, "you that I love like my own flesh and +blood,--don't! Oh Anthea! don't do what can never be undone. Don't give +your youth and beauty to one who can never--never make you happy,--Oh +Anthea--!" + +"Dear Aunt Priscilla, I would rather marry one I don't love than have to +live beholden all my days to a man that I--hate!" Now, as she spoke, +though her embrace was as ready, and her hands as gentle as ever, yet +Miss Priscilla saw that her proud face was set, and stern. So, she +presently rose, sighing, and taking her little crutch stick, tapped +dolefully away, and left Anthea to write her letter. + +And now, hesitating no more, Anthea took up her pen, and wrote,--surely +a very short missive for a love-letter. And, when she had folded, and +sealed it, she tossed it aside, and laying her arms upon the table, hid +her face, with a long, shuddering sigh. + +In a little while, she rose, and taking up the letter, went out to find +Adam; but remembering that he had gone to Cranbrook with Small Porges, +she paused irresolute, and then turned her steps toward the orchard. +Hearing voices, she stopped again, and glancing about, espied the +Sergeant, and Miss Priscilla. She had given both her hands into the +Sergeant's one, great, solitary fist, and he was looking down at her, +and she was looking up at him, and upon the face of each, was a great +and shining joy. + +And, seeing all this, Anthea felt herself very lonely all at once, and, +turning aside, saw all things through a blur of sudden tears. She was +possessed, also, of a sudden, fierce loathing of the future, a horror +because of the promise her letter contained. Nevertheless she was firm, +and resolute on her course because of the pride that burned within her. + +So thus it was that as the Sergeant presently came striding along on his +homeward way, he was suddenly aware of Miss Anthea standing before him; +whereupon he halted, and removing his hat, wished her a +"good-afternoon!" + +"Sergeant," said she, "will you do something for me?" + +"Anything you ask me, Miss Anthea, mam,--ever and always." + +"I want you to take this letter to--Mr. Cassilis,--will you?" + +The Sergeant hesitated unwontedly, turning his hat about and about in +his hand, finally he put it on, out of the way. + +"Will you, Sergeant?" + +"Since you ask me--Miss Anthea mam--I will." + +"Give it into his own hand." + +"Miss Anthea mam--I will." + +"Thank you!--here it is, Sergeant." And so she turned, and was gone, +leaving the Sergeant staring down at the letter in his hand, and shaking +his head over it. + +Anthea walked on hastily, never looking behind, and so, coming back to +the house, threw herself down by the open window, and stared out with +unseeing eyes at the roses nodding slumberous heads in the +gentle breeze. + +So the irrevocable step was taken! She had given her promise to marry +Cassilis whenever he would, and must abide by it! Too late now, any hope +of retreat, she had deliberately chosen her course, and must follow +it--to the end. + +"Begging your pardon, Miss Anthea mam--!" + +She started, and glancing round, espied Adam. + +"Oh!--you startled me, Adam,--what is it?" + +"Begging your pardon, Miss Anthea, but is it true as Mr. Belloo be gone +away--for good?" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"Why then all I can say is--as I'm sorry,--ah! mortal sorry I be, an' my +'eart, mam, my 'eart likewise gloomy." + +"Were you so--fond of him, Adam?" + +"Well, Miss Anthea,--considering as he were--the best, good-naturedest, +properest kind o' gentleman as ever was; when I tell you as over an' +above all this, he could use his fists better than any man as ever I +see,--him having knocked me into a dry ditch, though, to be sure I +likewise drawed his claret,--begging your pardon, I'm sure, Miss Anthea; +all of which happened on account o' me finding him a-sleeping in your +'ay, mam;--when I tell you furthermore, as he treated me ever as a man, +an' wern't noways above shaking my 'and, or smoking a pipe wi' +me--sociable like; when I tell you as he were the finest gentleman, and +properest man as ever I knowed, or heard tell on,--why, I think as the +word 'fond' be about the size of it, Miss Anthea mam!" saying which, +Adam nodded several times, and bestowed an emphatic backhanded knock to +the crown of his hat. + +"You used to sit together very often--under the big apple tree, didn't +you, Adam?" + +"Ah!--many an' many a night, Miss Anthea." + +"Did he--ever tell you--much of his--life, Adam?" + +"Why yes, Miss Anthea,--told me summat about his travels, told me as +he'd shot lions, an' tigers--away out in India, an' Africa." + +"Did he ever mention--" + +"Well, Miss Anthea?" said he enquiringly, seeing she had paused. + +"Did he ever speak of--the--lady he is going to marry?" + +"Lady?" repeated Adam, giving a sudden twist to his hat. + +"Yes,--the lady--who lives in London?" + +"No, Miss Anthea," answered Adam, screwing his hat tighter, and tighter. + +"Why--what do you mean?" + +"I mean--as there never was no lady, Miss Anthea,--neither up to Lonnon, +nor nowhere's else, as I ever heard on." + +"But--oh Adam!--you--told me--" + +"Ah!--for sure I told ye, but it were a lie, Miss Anthea,--leastways, it +weren't the truth. Ye see, I were afraid as you'd refuse to take the +money for the furnitur' unless I made ye believe as he wanted it +uncommon bad. So I up an' told ye as he'd bought it all on account o' +him being matrimonially took wi' a young lady up to Lonnon--" + +"And then--you went to--him, and warned him--told him of the story you +had invented?" + +"I did, Miss Anthea; at first, I thought as he were going to up an' give +me one for myself, but, arterwards he took it very quiet, an' told me as +I'd done quite right, an' agreed to play the game. An' that's all about +it, an' glad I am as it be off my mind at last. Ah' now, Miss Anthea +mam, seeing you're that rich--wi' Master Georgy's fortun',--why you can +pay back for the furnitur'--if so be you're minded to. An' I hope as you +agree wi' me as I done it all for the best, Miss Anthea?" + +Here, Adam unscrewed his hat, and knocked out the wrinkles against his +knee, which done, he glanced at Anthea: + +"Why--what is it, Miss Anthea?" + +"Nothing, Adam,--I haven't slept well, lately--that's all" + +"Ah, well!--you'll be all right again now,--we all shall,--now the +mortgage be paid off,--shan't we, Miss Anthea?" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"We 'ad a great day--over to Cranbrook, Master Georgy an' me, he be in +the kitchen now, wi' Prudence--a-eating of bread an' jam. Good-night, +Miss Anthea mam, if you should be wanting me again I shall be in the +stables,--Good-night, Miss Anthea!" So, honest, well-meaning Adam +touched his forehead with a square-ended finger, and trudged away. But +Anthea sat there, very still, with drooping head, and vacant eyes. + +And so it was done, the irrevocable step had been taken; she had given +her promise! So now, having chosen her course, she must follow +it--to the end. + +For, in Arcadia, it would seem that a promise is still a sacred thing. + +Now, in a while, lifting her eyes, they encountered those of the smiling +Cavalier above the mantel. Then, as she looked, she stretched out her +arms with a sudden yearning gesture: + +"Oh!" she whispered, "if I were only--just a picture, like you." + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +_Which, being the last, is, very properly, the longest in the book_ + +In those benighted days when men went abroad cased in steel, and, upon +very slight provocation, were wont to smite each other with axes, and +clubs, to buffet and skewer each other with spears, lances, swords, and +divers other barbarous engines, yet, in that dark, and doughty age, +ignorant though they were of all those smug maxims, and excellent +moralities with which we are so happily blessed,--even in that +unhallowed day, when the solemn tread of the policeman's foot was all +unknown,--they had evolved for themselves a code of rules whereby to +govern their life, and conduct. Amongst these, it was tacitly agreed +upon, and understood, that a spoken promise was a pledge, and held to be +a very sacred thing, and he who broke faith, committed all the cardinal +sins. Indeed their laws were very few, and simple, easily understood, +and well calculated to govern man's conduct to his fellow. In this day +of ours, ablaze with learning, and culture,--veneered with a fine +civilization, our laws are complex beyond all knowing and expression; +man regulates his conduct--to them,--and is as virtuous, and honest as +the law compels him to be. + +This is the age of Money, and, therefore, an irreverent age; it is also +the age of Respectability (with a very large R),--and the +policeman's bludgeon. + +But in Arcadia--because it is an old-world place where life follows an +even, simple course, where money is as scarce as roguery, the old law +still holds; a promise once given, is a sacred obligation, and not to be +set aside. + +Even the Black-bird, who lived in the inquisitive apple tree, +understood, and was aware of this, it had been born in him, and had +grown with his feathers. Therefore,--though, to be sure, he had spoken +no promise, signed no bond, nor affixed his mark to any agreement, still +he had, nevertheless, borne in mind a certain request preferred to him +when the day was very young. Thus, with a constancy of purpose worthy of +all imitation, he had given all his mind, and thought, to the +composition of a song with a new theme. He had applied himself to it +most industriously all day long, and now, as the sun began to set, he +had at last corked it all out,--every note, every quaver, and trill; +and, perched upon a look-out branch, he kept his bold, bright eye turned +toward a certain rustic seat hard by, uttering a melodious note or two, +every now and then, from pure impatience. + +And presently, sure enough, he spied her for whom he waited,--the tall, +long limbed, supple-waisted creature--whose skin was pink and gold like +the peaches and apricots in the garden, and with soft, little rings of +hair that would have made such an excellent lining to a nest. From this +strictly utilitarian point of view he had often admired her hair, (had +this Black-bird fellow), as she passed to and fro among her flowers, or +paused to look up at him and listen to his song, or even sometimes to +speak to him in her sweet, low voice. + +But to-day she seemed to have forgotten him altogether, she did not even +glance his way, indeed she walked with bent head, and seemed to keep her +eyes always upon the ground. + +Therefore the black-bird hopped a little further along the branch, and +peered over to look down at her with first one round eye, and then the +other, as she sank upon the seat, near by, and leaned her head wearily +against the great tree, behind. And thus he saw, upon the pint and gold +of her cheek, something that shone, and twinkled like a drop of dew. + +If the Black-bird wondered at this, and was inclined to be curious, he +sturdily repressed the weakness,--for here was the audience--seated, +and waiting--all expectation for him to begin. + +So, without more ado, he settled himself upon the bough, lifted his +head, stretched his throat, and, from his yellow bill, poured forth a +flood of golden melody as he burst forth into his "Song of Memory." + +And what a song it was!--so full of passionate entreaty, of tender +pleading, of haunting sweetness, that, as she listened, the bright drop +quivering upon her lashes, fell and was succeeded by another, and +another. Nor did she attempt to check them, or wipe them away, only she +sat and listened with her heavy head pillowed against the great tree, +while the Blackbird, glancing down at her every now and then with +critical eye to mark the effect of some particularly difficult passage, +piped surely as he had never done before, until the listener's proud +face sank lower and lower, and was, at last, hidden in her hands. Seeing +which, the Black-bird, like the true artist he was, fearing an +anti-climax, very presently ended his song with a long-drawn, +plaintive note. + +But Anthea sat there with her proud head bowed low, long after he had +retired for the night. And the sun went down, and the shadows came +creeping stealthily about her, and the moon began to rise, big and +yellow, over the up-land; but Anthea still sat there with her head, once +more resting wearily against "King Arthur," watching the deepening +shadows until she was roused by Small Porges' hand upon hers and his +voice saying: + +"Why,--I do believe you're crying, Auntie Anthea, an' why are you +here--all alone, an' by yourself?" + +"I was listening to the Black-bird, dear,--I never heard him sing quite +so--beautifully, before." + +"But black-birds don't make people cry,--an' I know you've been +crying--'cause you sound--all quivery, you know." + +"Do I, Georgy?" + +"Yes,--is it 'cause you feel--lonely?" + +"Yes dear." + +"You've cried an awful lot, lately, Auntie Anthea." + +"Have I, dear?" + +"Yes,--an' it--worries me, you know." + +"I'm afraid I've been a great responsibility to you, Georgy dear," said +she with a rueful little laugh. + +"'Fraid you have; but I don' mind the 'sponsibility,--'I'll always take +care of you, you know!" nodded Small Porges, sitting down, the better to +get his arm protectingly about her, while Anthea stooped to kiss the top +of his curly head. "I promised my Uncle Porges I'd always take care of +you, an' so I will!" + +"Yes, dear." + +"Uncle Porges told me--" + +"Never mind, dear,--don' let's talk of--him." + +"Do you still--hate him, then, Auntie Anthea?" + +"Hush, dear!--it's very wrong to--hate people." + +"Yes, a course it is! Then--perhaps, if you don't hate him any more--you +like him a bit,--jest a--teeny bit, you know?" + +"Why--there's the clock striking half-past eight, Georgy!" + +"Yes, I hear it,--but--do you,--the teeniest bit? Oh! can't you like him +jest a bit--for my sake, Auntie Anthea? I'm always trying to please +you,--an' I found you the fortune, you know, so now I want you to please +me,--an' tell me you like him--for my sake." + +"But--Oh Georgy dear!--you don't understand." + +"--'cause you see," Small Porges, continued, "after all, I found him for +you--under a hedge, you know--" + +"Ah!--why did you, Georgy dear? We were so happy--before--he came--" + +"But you couldn't have been, you know; you weren't married--even then, +so you couldn't have been really happy, you know;" said Small Porges +shaking his head. + +"Why Georgy--what do you mean?" + +"Well, Uncle Porges told me that nobody can live happy--ever after, +unless they're married--first. So that was why I 'ranged for him to +marry you, so you could _both_ be happy, an' all revelry an' joy,--like +the fairy tale, you know." + +"But, you see, we aren't in a fairy tale, dear, so I'm afraid we must +make the best of things as they are!" and here she sighed again, and +rose. "Come, Georgy, it's much later than I thought, and quite time you +were in bed, dear." + +"All right, Auntie Anthea,--only--don't you think it's jest a bit--cruel +to send a boy to bed so very early, an' when the moon's so big, an' +everything looks so--frightfully fine? 'sides--" + +"Well, what now?" she asked, a little wearily as, obedient to his +pleading gesture, she sat down again. + +"Why, you haven't answered my question yet, you know." + +"What question?" said she, not looking at him. + +"'Bout my--Uncle Porges." + +"But Georgy--I--" + +"You do like him--jest a bit--don't you?--please?" Small Porges was +standing before her as he waited for her answer, but now, seeing how she +hesitated, and avoided his eyes, he put one small hand beneath the +dimple in her chin, so that she was forced to look at him. + +"You do, please,--don't you?" he pleaded. + +Anthea hesitated; but, after all,--_He_ was gone, and nobody could hear; +and Small Porges was so very small; and who could resist the entreaty in +his big, wistful eyes? surely not Anthea. Therefore, with a sudden +gesture of abandonment, she leaned forward in his embrace, and rested +her weary head against his manly, small shoulder: + +"Yes!" she whispered. + +"Jest as much as you like--Mr. Cassilis?" he whispered back. + +"Yes!" + +"A--bit more--jest a teeny bit more?" + +"Yes!" + +"A--lot more,--lots an' lots,--oceans more?" + +"Yes!" + +The word was spoken, and, having uttered it, Anthea grew suddenly hot +with shame, and mightily angry with herself, and would, straightway, +have given the world to have it unsaid; the more so, as she felt Small +Porges' clasp tighten joyfully, and, looking up, fancied she read +something like triumph in his look. + +She drew away from him, rather hastily, and rose to her feet. + +"Come!" said she, speaking now in a vastly different tone, "it must be +getting very late--" + +"Yes, I s'pecks it'll soon be nine o'clock, now!" he nodded. + +"Then you ought to be in bed, fast asleep instead of talking +such--nonsense, out here. So--come along--at once, sir!" + +"But, can't I stay up--jest a little while? You see--" + +"No!" + +"You see, it's such a--magnif'cent night! It feels as though--things +might happen!" + +"Don't be so silly!" + +"Well, but it does, you know." + +"What do you mean--what things?" + +"Well, it feels--gnomy, to me. I s'pecks there's lots of elves +about--hidden in the shadows, you know, an' peeping at us." + +"There aren't any elves,--or gnomes," said Anthea petulantly, for she +was still furiously angry with herself. + +"But my Uncle Porges told me--" + +"Oh!" cried Anthea, stamping her foot suddenly, "can't you talk of +anyone, or anything but--him? I'm tired to death of him and his +very name!" + +"But I thought you liked him--an awful lot, an'--" + +"Well, I don't!" + +"But, you said--" + +"Never mind what I said! It's time you were in bed asleep,--so come +along--at once, sir!" + +So they went on through the orchard together, very silently, for Small +Porges was inclined to be indignant, but much more inclined to be hurt. +Thus, they had not gone so very far, when he spoke, in a voice that he +would have described as--quivery. + +"Don't you think that you're--just the teeniest bit--cruel to me, Auntie +Anthea?" he enquired wistfully, "after I prayed an' prayed till I found +a fortune for you!--don't you, please?" Surely Anthea was a creature of +moods, to-night, for, even while he spoke, she stopped, and turned, and +fell on her knees, and caught him in her arms, kissing him many times: + +"Yes,--yes, dear, I'm hateful to you,--horrid to you! But I don't mean +to be. There!--forgive me!" + +"Oh!--it's all right again, now, Auntie Anthea, thank you. I only +thought you were jest a bit--hard, 'cause it is such a--magnif'cent +night, isn't it?" + +"Yes dear; and perhaps there are gnomes, and pixies about. Anyhow, we +can pretend there are, if you like, as we used to--" + +"Oh will you? that would be fine! Then, please, may I go with you--as +far as the brook? We'll wander, you know,--I've never wandered with you +in the moonlight,--an' I do love to hear the brook talking to +itself,--so--will you wander--jest this once?" + +"Well," said Anthea, hesitating, "it's very late!--" + +"Nearly nine o 'clock, yes! But Oh!--please don't forget that I found a +fortune for you--" + +"Very well," she smiled, "just this once." + +Now as they went together, hand in hand through the moonlight, Small +Porges talked very fast, and very much at random, while his eyes, +bright, and eager, glanced expectantly towards every patch of +shadow,--doubtless in search of gnomes, and pixies. + +But Anthea saw nothing of this, heard nothing of the suppressed +excitement in his voice, for she was thinking that by now, Mr. Cassilis +had read her letter,--that he might, even then, be on his way to +Dapplemere. She even fancied, once or twice, that she could hear the +gallop of his horse's hoofs. And, when he came, he would want +to--kiss her! + +"Why do you shiver so, Auntie Anthea, are you cold?" + +"No, dear." + +"Well, then, why are you so quiet to me,--I've asked you a +question--three times." + +"Have you dear? I--I was thinking; what was the question?" + +"I was asking you if you would be awful frightened s'posing we did find +a pixie--or a gnome, in the shadows; an' would you be so very awfully +frightened if a gnome--a great, big one, you know,--came jumping out +an'--ran off with you,--should you?" + +"No!" said Anthea, with another shiver, "No, dear,--I think I should +be--rather glad of it!" + +"Should you, Auntie? I'm--so awful glad you wouldn't be frightened. A +course, I don't s'pose there are gnomes--I mean great, big +ones,--really, you know,--but there might be, on a magnif'cent night, +like this. If you shiver again Auntie you'll have to take my coat!" + +"I thought I heard a horse galloping--hush!" + +They had reached the stile, by now, the stile with the crooked, lurking +nail, and she leaned there, a while, to listen. "I'm sure I heard +something,--away there--on the road!" + +"I don't!" said Small Porges, stoutly,--"so take my hand, please, an' +let me 'sist you over the stile." + +So they crossed the stile, and, presently, came to the brook that was +the most impertinent brook in the world. And here, upon the little +rustic bridge, they stopped to look down at the sparkle of the water, +and to listen to its merry voice. + +Yes, indeed to-night it was as impertinent as ever, laughing, and +chuckling to itself among the hollows, and whispering scandalously in +the shadows. It seemed to Anthea that it was laughing at her,--mocking, +and taunting her with--the future. And now, amid the laughter, were +sobs, and tearful murmurs, and now, again, it seemed to be the prophetic +voice of old Nannie: + +"'By force ye shall be wooed and by force ye shall be wed, and there is +no man strong enough to do it, but him as bears the Tiger Mark +upon him!'" + +The "Tiger Mark!" Alas! how very far from the truth were poor, old +Nannie's dreams, after all, the dreams which Anthea had very nearly +believed in--once or twice. How foolish it had all been! And yet +even now-- + +Anthea had been leaning over the gurgling waters while all this passed +through her mind, but now,--she started at the sound of a heavy +foot-fall on the planking of the bridge, behind her, and--in that same +instant, she was encircled by a powerful arm, caught up in a strong +embrace,--swung from her feet, and borne away through the shadows of the +little copse. + +It was very dark in the wood, but she knew, instinctively, whose arms +these were that held her so close, and carried her so easily--away +through the shadows of the wood,--away from the haunting, hopeless dread +of the future from which there had seemed no chance, or hope of escape. + +And, knowing all this, she made no struggle, and uttered no word. And +now the trees thinned out, and, from under her lashes she saw the face +above her; the thick, black brows drawn together,--the close set of the +lips,--the grim prominence of the strong, square chin. + +And now, they were in the road; and now he had lifted her into an +automobile, had sprung in beside her, and--they were off, gliding swift, +and ever swifter, under the shadows of the trees. + +And still neither spoke, nor looked at each other; only she leaned away +from him, against the cushions, while he kept his frowning eyes fixed +upon the road a-head; and ever the great car flew onward faster, and +faster; yet not so fast as the beating of her heart, wherein shame, and +anger, and fear, and--another feeling strove and fought for mastery. + +But at last, finding him so silent, and impassive, she must needs steal +a look at him, beneath her lashes. + +He wore no hat, and as she looked upon him,--with his yellow hair, his +length of limb, and his massive shoulders, he might have been some +fierce Viking, and she, his captive, taken by strength of arm--borne +away by force.--By force! + +And, hereupon, as the car hummed over the smooth road, it seemed to find +a voice,--a subtle, mocking voice, very like the voice of the +brook,--that murmured to her over and over again: + +"By force ye shall be wooed, and by force ye shall be wed." + +The very trees whispered it as they passed, and her heart throbbed in +time to it: + +"By force ye shall be wooed, and by force ye shall be wed!" So, she +leaned as far from him as she might, watching him with frightened eyes +while he frowned ever upon the road in front, and the car rocked, and +swayed with their going, as they whirled onward through moonlight and +through shadow, faster, and faster,--yet not so fast as the beating of +her heart wherein was fear, and shame, and anger, and--another feeling, +but greatest of all now, was fear. Could this be the placid, soft-spoken +gentleman she had known,--this man, with the implacable eyes, and the +brutal jaw, who neither spoke to, nor looked at her, but frowned always +at the road in front. + +And so, the fear grew and grew within her,--fear of the man whom she +knew,--and knew not at all. She clasped her hands nervously together, +watching him with dilating eyes as the car slowed down,--for the road +made a sudden turn, hereabouts. + +And still he neither looked at, nor spoke to her; and therefore, because +she could bear the silence no longer, she spoke--in a voice that sounded +strangely faint, and far-away, and that shook and trembled in spite +of her. + +"Where are you--taking me?" + +"To be married!" he answered, never looking at her. + +"You--wouldn't--dare!" + +"Wait and see!" he nodded. + +"Oh!--but what do--you mean?" The fear in her voice was more manifest +than ever. + +"I mean that you are mine,--you always were, you always must and shall +be. So, I'm going to marry you--in about half-an-hour, by +special license." + +Still he did not even glance towards her, and she looked away over the +country side all lonely and desolate under the moon. + +"I want you, you see," he went on, "I want you more than I ever wanted +anything in this world. I need you, because without you my life will be +utterly purposeless, and empty. So I have taken you--because you are +mine, I know it,--Ah yes! and, deep down in your woman's heart, you know +it too. And so, I am going to marry you,--yes I am, unless--" and here, +he brought the car to a standstill, and turning, looked at her for the +first time. + +And now, before the look in his eyes, her own wavered, and fell, lest he +should read within them that which she would fain hide from him,--and +which she knew they must reveal,--that which was neither shame, nor +anger, nor fear, but the other feeling for which she dared find no name. +And thus, for a long moment, there was silence. + +At last she spoke, though with her eyes still hidden: + +"Unless!" she repeated breathlessly. + +"Anthea,--look at me!" + +But Anthea only drooped her head the lower; wherefore, he leaned +forward, and--even as Small Porges had done,--set his hand beneath the +dimple in her chin, and lifted the proud, un-willing face: + +"Anthea,--look at me!" + +And now, what could Anthea do but obey? + +"Unless," said he, as her glance, at last, met his, "unless you can tell +me--now, as your eyes look into mine,--that you love Cassilis. Tell me +that, and I will take you back, this very instant; and never trouble you +again. But, unless you do tell me that, why then--your Pride shall not +blast two lives, if I can help it. Now speak!" + +But Anthea was silent, also, she would have turned aside from his +searching look, but that his arms were about her, strong, and +compelling. So, needs must she suffer him to look down into her very +heart, for it seemed to her that, in that moment, he had rent away every +stitch, and shred of Pride's enfolding mantle, and that he saw the +truth, at last. + +But, if he had, he gave no sign, only he turned and set the car humming +upon its way, once more. + +On they went through the midsummer night, up hill and down hill, by +cross-road and bye-lane, until, as they climbed a long ascent, they +beheld a tall figure standing upon the top of the hill, in the attitude +of one who waits; and who, spying them, immediately raised a very stiff +left arm, whereupon this figure was joined by another. Now as the car +drew nearer, Anthea, with a thrill of pleasure, recognized the Sergeant +standing very much as though he were on parade, and with honest-faced +Peterday beside him, who stumped joyfully forward, and,--with a bob of +his head, and a scrape of his wooden leg,--held out his hand to her. + +Like one in a dream she took the sailor's hand to step from the car, and +like one in a dream, she walked on between the soldier and the sailor, +who now reached out to her, each, a hand equally big and equally gentle, +to aid her up certain crumbling, and time-worn steps. On they went +together until they were come to a place of whispering echoes, where +lights burned, few, and dim. + +And here, still as one in a dream, she spoke those words which gave her +life, henceforth, into the keeping of him who stood beside her,--whose +strong hand trembled as he set upon her finger, that which is an emblem +of eternity. + +Like one in a dream, she took the pen, and signed her name, obediently, +where they directed. And yet,--could this really be herself,--this +silent, submissive creature? + +And now, they were out upon the moon-lit road again, seated in the car, +while Peterday, his hat in his hand, was speaking to her. And yet,--was +it to her? + +"Mrs. Belloo, mam," he was saying, "on this here monumentous occasion--" + +"Monumentous is the only word for it, Peterday!" nodded the Sergeant. + +"On this here monumentous occasion, Mrs. Belloo," the sailor proceeded, +"my shipmate, Dick, and me, mam,--respectfully beg the favour of +saluting the bride;--Mrs. Belloo, by your leave--here's health, and +happiness, mam!" And, hereupon, the old sailor kissed her, right +heartily. Which done, he made way for the Sergeant who, after a moment's +hesitation, followed suit. + +"A fair wind, and prosperous!" cried Peterday, flourishing his hat. + +"And God--bless you--both!" said the Sergeant as the car shot away. + +So, it was done!--the irrevocable step was taken! Her life and future +had passed for ever into the keeping of him who sat so silent beside +her, who neither spoke, nor looked at her, but frowned ever at the road +before him. + +On sped the car, faster, and faster,--yet not so fast as the beating of +her heart wherein there was yet something of fear, and shame,--but +greatest of all was that other emotion, and the name of it was--Joy. + +Now, presently, the car slowed down, and he spoke to her, though without +turning his head. And yet, something in his voice thrilled through her +strangely. + +"Look Anthea,--the moon is at the full, to-night." + +"Yes!" she answered. + +"And Happiness shall come riding astride the full moon!" he quoted. "Old +Nannie is rather a wonderful old witch, after all, isn't she?" + +"Yes." + +"And then there is--our nephew,--my dear, little Porges! But for him, +Happiness would have been a stranger to me all my days, Anthea. He +dreamed that the Money Moon spoke to him, and--but he shall tell you of +that, for himself." + +But Anthea noticed that he spoke without once looking at her; indeed it +seemed that he avoided glancing towards her, of set design, and purpose; +and his deep voice quivered, now and then, in a way she had never heard +before. Therefore, her heart throbbed the faster, and she kept her gaze +bent downward, and thus, chancing to see the shimmer of that which was +upon her finger, she blushed, and hid it in a fold of her gown. + +"Anthea." + +"Yes?" + +"You have no regrets,--have you?" + +"No," she whispered. + +"We shall soon be--home, now!" + +"Yes." + +"And are you--mine--for ever, and always? Anthea, you--aren't--afraid of +me any more, are you?" + +"No." + +"Nor ever will be?" + +"Nor--ever will be." + +Now as the car swept round a bend, behold yet two other figures standing +beside the way. + +"Yo ho, Captain!" cried a voice, "Oh--please heave to, Uncle Porges!" + +And, forth to meet them, came Small Porges, running. Yet remembering +Miss Priscilla, tapping along behind him, he must needs turn back,--to +give her his hand like the kindly, small gentleman that he was. + +And now--Miss Priscilla had Anthea in her arms, and they were kissing +each other, and murmuring over each other, as loving women will, while +Small Porges stared at the car, and all things pertaining thereto, more +especially, the glaring head-lights, with great wondering eyes. + +At length, having seen Anthea, and Miss Priscilla safely stowed, he +clambered up beside Bellew, and gave him the word to proceed. What pen +could describe his ecstatic delight as he sat there, with one hand +hooked into the pocket of Uncle Porges' coat, and with the cool night +wind whistling through his curls. So great was it, indeed, that Bellew +was constrained to turn aside, and make a wide detour, purely for the +sake of the radiant joy in Small Porges' eager face. + +When, at last, they came within sight of Dapplemere, and the great +machine crept up the rutted, grassy lane, Small Porges sighed, +and spoke: + +"Auntie Anthea," said he, "are you sure that you are married--nice +an'--tight, you know?" + +"Yes, dear," she answered, "why--yes, Georgy." + +"But you don't look a bit diff'rent, you know,--either of you. Are you +quite--sure? 'cause I shouldn't like you to disappoint me,--after all." + +"Never fear, my Porges," said Bellew, "I made quite sure of it while I +had the chance,--look!" As he spoke, he took Anthea's left hand, +drawing it out into the moonlight, so that Small Porges could see the +shining ring upon her finger. + +"Oh!" said he, nodding his head, "then that makes it all right I s'pose. +An' you aren't angry with me 'cause I let a great, big gnome come an' +carry you off, are you, Auntie Anthea?" + +"No, dear." + +"Why then, everything's quite--magnif'cent, isn't it? An' now we're +going to live happy ever after, all of us, an' Uncle Porges is going to +take us to sail the oceans in his ship,--he's got a ship that all +belongs to his very own self, you know, Auntie Anthea,--so all will be +revelry an' joy--just like the fairy tale, after all." + +And so, at last, they came to the door of the ancient House of +Dapplemere. Whereupon, very suddenly, Adam appeared, bare-armed from the +stables, who, looking from Bellew's radiant face to Miss Anthea's shy +eyes, threw back his head, vented his great laugh, and was immediately +solemn again. + +"Miss Anthea," said he, wringing and twisting at his hat, "or--I think I +should say,--Mrs. Belloo mam,--there ain't no word for it! least-ways +not as I know on, nohow. No words be strong enough to tell the +J-O-Y--j'y, mam, as fills us--one an' all." Here, he waved his hand to +where stood the comely Prudence with the two rosy-cheeked maids peeping +over her buxom shoulders. + +"Only," pursued Adam, "I be glad--ah! mortal glad, I be,--as 'tis you, +Mr. Belloo sir. There ain't a man in all the world,--or--as you might +say,--uni-verse, as is so proper as you to be the husband to our Miss +Anthea--as was,--not nohow, Mr. Belloo sir. I wish you j'y, a j'y as +shall grow wi' the years, an' abide wi' you always,--both on ye." + +"That is a very excellent thought Adam!" said Bellew, "and I think I +should like to shake hands on it." Which they did, forthwith. + +"An' now, Mrs. Belloo mam," Adam concluded, "wi' your kind permission, +I'll step into the kitchen, an' drink a glass o' Prue's ale--to your +'ealth, and 'appiness. If I stay here any longer I won't say but what I +shall burst out a-singing in your very face, mam, for I do be that +'appy-'earted,--Lord!" + +With which exclamation, Adam laughed again, and turning about, strode +away to the kitchen with Prudence and the rosy-cheeked maids, laughing +as he went. + +"Oh my dears!" said little Miss Priscilla, "I've hoped for this,--prayed +for it,--because I believe he is--worthy of you, Anthea, and because you +have both loved each other, from the very beginning; oh dear me; yes you +have! And so, my dears,--your happiness is my happiness and--Oh, +goodness me! here I stand talking sentimental nonsense while our Small +Porges is simply dropping asleep as he stands." + +"'Fraid I am a bit tired," Small Porges admitted, "but it's been a +magnif'cent night. An' I think, Uncle Porges, when we sail away in your +ship, I think, I'd like to sail round the Horn first 'cause they say +it's always blowing, you know, and I should love to hear it blow. An' +now--Good-night!" + +"Wait a minute, my Porges, just tell us what it was the Money Moon said +to you, last night, will you?" + +"Well," said Small Porges, shaking his head, and smiling, a slow, sly +smile, "I don't s'pose we'd better talk about it, Uncle Porges, 'cause, +you see, it was such a very great secret; an 'sides,--I'm awful sleepy, +you know!" So saying, he nodded slumberously, kissed Anthea sleepily, +and, giving Miss Priscilla his hand, went drowsily into the house. + +But, as for Bellew it seemed to him that this was the hour for which he +had lived all his life, and, though he spoke nothing of this thought, +yet Anthea knew it, instinctively,--as she knew why he had avoided +looking at her hitherto, and what had caused the tremor in his voice, +despite his iron self-control; and, therefore, now that they were alone, +she spoke hurriedly, and at random: + +"What--did he--Georgy mean by--your ship?" + +"Why, I promised to take him a cruise in the yacht--if you cared to +come, Anthea." + +"Yacht!" she repeated, "are you so dreadfully rich?" + +"I'm afraid we are," he nodded, "but, at least, it has the advantage of +being better than if we were--dreadfully poor, hasn't it?" + +Now, in the midst of the garden there was an old sun-dial worn by time, +and weather, and it chanced that they came, and leaned there, side by +side. And, looking down upon the dial, Bellew saw certain characters +graven thereon in the form of a poesy. + +"What does it say, here, Anthea?" he asked. But Anthea shook her head: + +"That, you must read for yourself!" she said, not looking at him. + +So, he took her hand in his, and, with her slender finger, spelled out +this motto. + +Time, and youthe do flee awaie, Love, Oh! Love then, whiles ye may. + +"Anthea!" said he, and again she heard the tremor in his voice, "you +have been my wife nearly three quarters of an hour, and all that time I +haven't dared to look at you, because if I had, I must have--kissed you, +and I meant to wait--until your own good time. But Anthea, you have +never yet told me that you--love me--Anthea?" + +She did not speak, or move, indeed, she was so very still that he needs +must bend down to see her face. Then, all at once, her lashes were +lifted, her eyes looked up into his--deep and dark with passionate +tenderness. + +"Aunt Priscilla--was quite--right," she said, speaking in her low, +thrilling voice, "I have loved you--from the--very beginning, I think!" +And, with a soft, murmurous sigh, she gave herself into his embrace. + +Now, far away across the meadow, Adam was plodding his homeward way, +and, as he trudged, he sang to himself in a harsh, but not unmusical +voice, and the words of his song were these: + + "When I am dead, diddle diddle, as well may hap + You'll bury me, diddle diddle, under the tap, + Under the tap, diddle diddle, I'll tell you why, + That I may drink, diddle diddle, when I am dry." + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Money Moon, by Jeffery Farnol + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10418 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a0a7fc2 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #10418 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10418) diff --git a/old/10418-8.txt b/old/10418-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5831540 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10418-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8628 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Money Moon, by Jeffery Farnol + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Money Moon + A Romance + +Author: Jeffery Farnol + +Release Date: December 8, 2003 [EBook #10418] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONEY MOON *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ginny Brewer and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + +THE MONEY MOON + + +A Romance + +By + +JEFFERY FARNOL + +Author of "The Broad Highway," etc. + +Frontispiece by A.I. KELLER + + +1911 + + + + +To "JENNIFER" + +The One and Only + +Whose unswerving FAITH was an Inspiration +Whose GENEROSITY is a bye-word; +This book is dedicated as a mark of GRATITUDE and AFFECTION + +Jeffery Farnol Feb. 10, 1910 + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + + I WHICH, BEING THE FIRST, IS, VERY PROPERLY, THE SHORTEST CHAPTER IN + THE BOOK + + II HOW GEORGE BELLEW SOUGHT COUNSEL OF HIS VALET + + III WHICH CONCERNS ITSELF WITH A HAYCART, AND A BELLIGERENT WAGGONER + + IV HOW SMALL PORGES IN LOOKING FOR A FORTUNE FOR ANOTHER, FOUND AN + UNCLE FOR HIMSELF INSTEAD + + V HOW BELLEW CAME TO ARCADIA + + VI OF THE SAD CONDITION OF THE HAUNTING SPECTRE OF THE MIGHT HAVE BEEN + + VII WHICH CONCERNS ITSELF AMONG OTHER MATTERS, WITH "THE OLD ADAM" + + VIII WHICH TELLS OF MISS PRISCILLA, OF PEACHES, AND OF SERGEANT APPLEBY + LATE OF THE 19TH HUSSARS + + IX IN WHICH MAY BE FOUND SOME DESCRIPTION OF ARCADIA, AND GOOSEBERRIES + + X HOW BELLEW AND ADAM ENTERED INTO A SOLEMN LEAGUE AND COVENANT + + XI OF THE "MAN WITH THE TIGER MARK" + + XII IN WHICH MAY BE FOUND A FULL, TRUE, AND PARTICULAR ACCOUNT OF THE + SALE + + XIII HOW ANTHEA CAME HOME + + XIV WHICH, AMONG OTHER THINGS, HAS TO DO WITH SHRIMPS, MUFFINS, AND TIN + WHISTLES + + XV IN WHICH ADAM EXPLAINS + + XVI IN WHICH ADAM PROPOSES A GAME + + XVII HOW BELLEW BEGAN THE GAME + + XVIII HOW THE SERGEANT WENT UPON HIS GUARD + + XIX IN WHICH PORGES BIG, AND PORGES SMALL DISCUSS THE SUBJECT OF + MATRIMONY + + XX WHICH RELATES A MOST EXTRAORDINARY CONVERSATION + + XXI OF SHOES, AND SHIPS, AND SEALING WAX, AND THE THIRD FINGER OF THE + LEFT HAND + + XXII COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE + + XXIII HOW SMALL PORGES, IN HIS HOUR OF NEED, WAS DESERTED BY HIS UNCLE + + XXIV IN WHICH SHALL BE FOUND MENTION OF A CERTAIN BLACK BAG + + XXV THE CONSPIRATORS + + XXVI HOW THE MONEY MOON ROSE + + XXVII IN WHICH IS VERIFIED THE ADAGE OF THE CUP AND THE LIP + +XXVIII WHICH TELLS HOW BELLEW LEFT DAPPLEMERE IN THE DAWN + + XXIX OF THE MOON'S MESSAGE TO SMALL PORGES, AND HOW HE TOLD IT TO + BELLEW--IN A WHISPER + + XXX HOW ANTHEA GAVE HER PROMISE + + XXXI WHICH, BEING THE LAST, IS, VERY PROPERLY, THE LONGEST, IN THE BOOK + + + + +CHAPTER I + +_Which, being the first, is, very properly, the shortest chapter in the +book_ + +When Sylvia Marchmont went to Europe, George Bellew being, at the same +time, desirous of testing his newest acquired yacht, followed her, and +mutual friends in New York, Newport, and elsewhere, confidently awaited +news of their engagement. Great, therefore, was their surprise when they +learnt of her approaching marriage to the Duke of Ryde. + +Bellew, being young and rich, had many friends, very naturally, who, +while they sympathized with his loss, yet agreed among themselves, that, +despite Bellew's millions, Sylvia had done vastly well for herself, +seeing that a duke is always a duke,--especially in America. + +There were, also, divers ladies in New York, Newport, and elsewhere, and +celebrated for their palatial homes, their jewels, and their daughters, +who were anxious to know how Bellew would comport himself under his +disappointment. Some leaned to the idea that he would immediately blow +his brains out; others opined that he would promptly set off on another +of his exploring expeditions, and get himself torn to pieces by lions +and tigers, or devoured by alligators; while others again feared greatly +that, in a fit of pique, he would marry some "young person" unknown, and +therefore, of course, utterly unworthy. + +How far these worthy ladies were right, or wrong in their surmises, they +who take the trouble to turn the following pages, shall find out. + + + +CHAPTER II + +_How George Bellew sought counsel of his Valet_ + +The first intimation Bellew received of the futility of his hopes was +the following letter which he received one morning as he sat at +breakfast in his chambers in St. James Street, W. + +MY DEAR GEORGE--I am writing to tell you that I like you so much that I +am quite sure I could never marry you, it would be too ridiculous. +Liking, you see George, is not love, is it? Though, personally, I think +all that sort of thing went out of fashion with our great-grandmother's +hoops, and crinolines. So George, I have decided to marry the Duke of +Ryde. The ceremony will take place in three weeks time at St. George's, +Hanover Square, and everyone will be there, of course. If you care to +come too, so much the better. I won't say that I hope you will forget +me, because I don't; but I am sure you will find someone to console you +because you are such a dear, good fellow, and so ridiculously rich. + +So good-bye, and best wishes, + +Ever yours most sincerely, + +SYLVIA. + +Now under such circumstances, had Bellew sought oblivion and consolation +from bottles, or gone headlong to the devil in any of other numerous +ways that are more or less inviting, deluded people would have pitied +him, and shaken grave heads over him; for it seems that disappointment +(more especially in love) may condone many offences, and cover as many +sins as Charity. + +But Bellew, knowing nothing of that latter-day hysteria which wears the +disguise, and calls itself "Temperament," and being only a rather +ordinary young man, did nothing of the kind. Having lighted his pipe, +and read the letter through again, he rang instead for Baxter, +his valet. + +Baxter was small, and slight, and dapper as to person, clean-shaven, +alert of eye, and soft of movement,--in a word, Baxter was the cream of +gentlemen's gentlemen, and the very acme of what a valet should be, from +the very precise parting of his glossy hair, to the trim toes of his +glossy boots. Baxter as has been said, was his valet, and had been his +father's valet, before him, and as to age, might have been thirty, or +forty, or fifty, as he stood there beside the table, with one eye-brow +raised a trifle higher than the other, waiting for Bellew to speak. + +"Baxter." + +"Sir?" + +"Take a seat." + +"Thank you sir." And Baxter sat down, not too near his master, nor too +far off, but exactly at the right, and proper distance. + +"Baxter, I wish to consult with you." + +"As between Master and Servant, sir?" + +"As between man and man, Baxter." + +"Very good, Mr. George, sir!" + +"I should like to hear your opinion, Baxter, as to what is the proper, +and most accredited course to adopt when one has been--er--crossed +in love?" + +"Why sir," began Baxter, slightly wrinkling his smooth brow, "so far as +I can call to mind, the courses usually adopted by despairing lovers, +are, in number, four." + +"Name them, Baxter." + +"First, Mr. George, there is what I may term, the Course +Retaliatory,--which is Marriage--" + +"Marriage?" + +"With--another party, sir,--on the principle that there are as good fish +in the sea as ever came out, and--er--pebbles on beaches, sir; you +understand me, sir?" + +"Perfectly, go on." + +"Secondly, there is the Army, sir, I have known of a good many +enlistments on account of blighted affections, Mr. George, sir; indeed, +the Army is very popular." + +"Ah?" said Bellew, settling the tobacco in his pipe with the aid of the +salt-spoon, "Proceed, Baxter." + +"Thirdly, Mr. George, there are those who are content to--to merely +disappear." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"And lastly sir, though it is usually the first,--there is dissipation, +Mr. George. Drink, sir,--the consolation of bottles, and--" + +"Exactly!" nodded Bellew. "Now Baxter," he pursued, beginning to draw +diagrams on the table-cloth with the salt-spoon, "knowing me as you do, +what course should you advise me to adopt?" + +"You mean, Mr. George,--speaking as between man and man of course,--you +mean that you are in the unfortunate position of being--crossed in your +affections, sir?" + +"Also--heart-broken, Baxter." + +"Certainly, sir!" + +"Miss Marchmont marries the Duke of Hyde,--in three weeks, Baxter." + +"Indeed, sir!" + +"You were, I believe, aware of the fact that Miss Marchmont and I were +as good as engaged?" + +"I had--hem!--gathered as much, sir." + +"Then--confound it all, Baxter!--why aren't you surprised?" + +"I am quite--over-come, sir!" said Baxter, stooping to recover the +salt-spoon which had slipped to the floor. + +"Consequently," pursued Bellew, "I am--er--broken-hearted, as I told +you--" + +"Certainly, sir." + +"Crushed, despondent, and utterly hopeless, Baxter, and shall be, +henceforth, pursued by the--er--Haunting Spectre of the Might +Have Been." + +"Very natural, sir, indeed!" + +"I could have hoped, Baxter, that, having served me so long,--not to +mention my father, you would have shown just a--er shade more feeling in +the matter." + +"And if you were to ask me,--as between man and man sir,--why I don't +show more feeling, then, speaking as the old servant of your respected +father, Master George, sir,--I should beg most respectfully to say that +regarding the lady in question, her conduct is not in the least +surprising, Miss Marchmont being a beauty, and aware of the fact, Master +George. Referring to your heart, sir, I am ready to swear that it is not +even cracked. And now, sir,--what clothes do you propose to wear +this morning?" + +"And pray, why should you be so confident of regarding +the--er--condition of my heart?" + +"Because, sir,--speaking as your father's old servant, Master George, I +make bold to say that I don't believe that you have ever been in love, +or even know what love is, Master George, sir." + +Bellew picked up the salt-spoon, balanced it very carefully upon his +finger, and put it down again. + +"Nevertheless," said he, shaking his head, "I can see for myself but the +dreary perspective of a hopeless future, Baxter, blasted by the Haunting +Spectre of the Might Have Been;--I'll trouble you to push the cigarettes +a little nearer." + +"And now, sir," said Baxter, as he rose to strike, and apply the +necessary match, "what suit will you wear to-day?" + +"Something in tweeds." + +"Tweeds, sir! surely you forget your appointment with the Lady Cecily +Prynne, and her party? Lord Mountclair had me on the telephone, +last night--" + +"Also a good, heavy walking-stick, Baxter, and a knap-sack." + +"A knap-sack, sir?" + +"I shall set out on a walking tour--in an hour's time." + +"Certainly, sir,--where to, sir?" + +"I haven't the least idea, Baxter, but I'm going--in an hour. On the +whole, of the four courses you describe for one whose life is blighted, +whose heart,--I say whose heart, Baxter, is broken,--utterly smashed, +and--er--shivered beyond repair, I prefer to disappear--in an +hour, Baxter." + +"Shall you drive the touring car, sir, or the new racer?" + +"I shall walk, Baxter, alone,--in an hour." + + + +CHAPTER III + +_Which concerns itself with a hay-cart, and a belligerent Waggoner_ + +It was upon a certain August morning that George Bellew shook the dust +of London from his feet, and, leaving Chance, or Destiny to direct him, +followed a hap-hazard course, careless alike of how, or when, or where; +sighing as often, and as heavily as he considered his heart-broken +condition required,--which was very often, and very heavily,--yet +heeding, for all that, the glory of the sun, and the stir and bustle of +the streets about him. + +Thus it was that, being careless of his ultimate destination, Fortune +condescended to take him under her wing, (if she has one), and guided +his steps across the river, into the lovely land of Kent,--that county +of gentle hills, and broad, pleasant valleys, of winding streams and +shady woods, of rich meadows and smiling pastures, of grassy lanes and +fragrant hedgerows,--that most delightful land which has been called, +and very rightly, "The Garden of England." + +It was thus, as has been said, upon a fair August morning, that Bellew +set out on what he termed "a walking tour." The reservation is necessary +because Bellew's idea of a walking-tour is original, and quaint. He +began very well, for Bellew,--in the morning he walked very nearly five +miles, and, in the afternoon, before he was discovered, he accomplished +ten more on a hay-cart that happened to be going in his direction. + +He had swung himself up among the hay, unobserved by the somnolent +driver, and had ridden thus an hour or more in that delicious state +between waking, and sleeping, ere the waggoner discovered him, whereupon +ensued the following colloquy: + +THE WAGGONER. (_Indignantly_) Hallo there! what might you be a doing of +in my hay? + +BELLEW. (_Drowsily_) Enjoying myself immensely. + +THE WAGGONER. (_Growling_) Well, you get out o' that, and sharp about +it. + +BELLEW. (_Yawning_) Not on your life! No sir,--'not for Cadwallader and +all his goats!' + +THE WAGGONER. You jest get down out o' my hay,--now come! + +BELLEW. (_Sleepily_) Enough, good fellow,--go to!--thy voice offends +mine ear! + +THE WAGGONER. (_Threateningly_) Ear be blowed! If ye don't get down out +o' my hay,--I'll come an' throw ye out. + +BELLEW. (_Drowsily_) 'Twould be an act of wanton aggression that likes +me not. + +THE WAGGONER. (_Dubiously_) Where be ye goin'? + +BELLEW. Wherever you like to take me; Thy way shall be my way, +and--er--thy people--(Yawn) So drive on, my rustic Jehu, and Heaven's +blessings prosper thee! + +Saying which, Bellew closed his eyes again, sighed plaintively, and once +more composed himself to slumber. + +But to drive on, the Waggoner, very evidently, had no mind; instead, +flinging the reins upon the backs of his horses, he climbed down from +his seat, and spitting on his hands, clenched them into fists and shook +them up at the yawning Bellew, one after the other. + +"It be enough," said he, "to raise the 'Old Adam' inside o' me to 'ave a +tramper o' the roads a-snoring in my hay,--but I ain't a-going to be +called names, into the bargain. 'Rusty'--I may be, but I reckon I'm good +enough for the likes o' you,--so come on down!" and the Waggoner shook +his fists again. + +He was a very square man, was this Waggoner, square of head, square of +jaw, and square of body, with twinkling blue eyes, and a pleasant, +good-natured face; but, just now, the eyes gleamed, and the face was set +grimly, and, altogether, he looked a very ugly opponent. + +Therefore Bellew sighed again, stretched himself, and, very reluctantly, +climbed down out of the hay. No sooner was he fairly in the road, than +the Waggoner went for him with a rush, and a whirl of knotted fists. It +was very dusty in that particular spot so that it presently rose in a +cloud, in the midst of which, the battle raged, fast and furious. + +And, in a while, the Waggoner, rising out of the ditch, grinned to see +Bellew wiping blood from his face. + +"You be no--fool!" panted the Waggoner, mopping his face with the end of +his neckerchief. "Leastways--not wi' your fists." + +"Why, you are pretty good yourself, if it comes to that," returned +Bellew, mopping in his turn. Thus they stood a while stanching their +wounds, and gazing upon each other with a mutual, and growing respect. + +"Well?" enquired Bellew, when he had recovered his breath somewhat, +"shall we begin again, or do you think we have had enough? To be sure, I +begin to feel much better for your efforts, you see, exercise is what I +most need, just now, on account of the--er--Haunting Spectre of the +Might Have Been,--to offset its effect, you know; but it is +uncomfortably warm work here, in the sun, isn't it?" + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "it be." + +"Then suppose we--er--continue our journey?" said Bellew with his dreamy +gaze upon the tempting load of sweet-smelling hay. + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner again, beginning to roll down his sleeves, +"suppose we do; I aren't above giving a lift to a chap as can use 'is +fists,--not even if 'e is a vagrant, and a uncommon dusty one at +that;--so, if you're in the same mind about it, up you get,--but no more +furrin curses, mind!" With which admonition, the Waggoner nodded, +grinned, and climbed back to his seat, while Bellew swung himself up +into the hay once more. + +"Friend," said he, as the waggon creaked upon its way, "Do you smoke?" + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner. + +"Then here are three cigars which you didn't manage to smash just now." + +"Cigars! why it ain't often as I gets so far as a cigar, unless it be +Squire, or Parson,--cigars, eh!" Saying which, the Waggoner turned and +accepted the cigars which he proceeded to stow away in the cavernous +interior of his wide-eaved hat, handling them with elaborate care, +rather as if they were explosives of a highly dangerous kind. + +Meanwhile, George Bellew, American Citizen, and millionaire, lay upon +the broad of his back, staring up at the cloudless blue above, and +despite heart break, and a certain Haunting Shadow, felt singularly +content, which feeling he was at some pains with himself to account for. + +"It's the exercise," said he, speaking his thought aloud, as he +stretched luxuriously upon his soft, and fragrant couch, "after all, +there is nothing like a little exercise." + +"That's what they all say!" nodded the Waggoner. "But I notice as them +as says it, ain't over fond o' doing of it,--they mostly prefers to lie +on their backs, an' talk about it,--like yourself." + +"Hum!" said Bellew, "ha! 'Some are born to exercise, some achieve +exercise, and some, like myself, have exercise thrust upon them.' But, +anyway, it is a very excellent thing,--more especially if one is +affected with a--er--broken heart." + +"A w'ot?" enquired the Waggoner. + +"Blighted affections, then," sighed Bellew, settling himself more +comfortably in the hay. + +"You aren't 'inting at--love, are ye?" enquired the Waggoner cocking a +somewhat sheepish eye at him. + +"I was, but, just at present," and here Bellew lowered his voice, "it is +a--er--rather painful subject with me,--let us, therefore, talk of +something else." + +"You don't mean to say as your 'eart's broke, do ye?" enquired the +Waggoner in a tone of such vast surprise and disbelief, that Bellew +turned, and propped himself on an indignant elbow. + +"And why the deuce not?" he retorted, "my heart is no more impervious +than anyone else's,--confound it!" + +"But," said the Waggoner, "you ain't got the look of a 'eart-broke cove, +no more than Squire Cassilis,--which the same I heard telling Miss +Anthea as 'is 'eart were broke, no later than yesterday, at two o'clock +in the arternoon, as ever was." + +"Anthea!" repeated Bellew, blinking drowsily up at the sky again, "that +is a very quaint name, and very pretty." + +"Pretty,--ah,--an' so's Miss Anthea!--as a pict'er." + +"Oh, really?" yawned Bellew. + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "there ain't a man, in or out o' the parish, +from Squire down, as don't think the very same." + +But here, the Waggoner's voice tailed off into a meaningless drone that +became merged with the creaking of the wheels, the plodding hoof-strokes +of the horses, and Bellew fell asleep. + +He was awakened by feeling himself shaken lustily, and, sitting up, saw +that they had come to where a narrow lane branched off from the high +road, and wound away between great trees. + +"Yon's your way," nodded the Waggoner, pointing along the high road, +"Dapplemere village lies over yonder, 'bout a mile." + +"Thank you very much," said Bellew, "but I don't want the village." + +"No?" enquired the Waggoner, scratching his head. + +"Certainly not," answered Bellew. + +"Then--what do ye want?" + +"Oh well, I'll just go on lying here, and see what turns up,--so drive +on, like the good fellow you are." + +"Can't be done!" said the Waggoner. + +"Why not?" + +"Why, since you ax me--because I don't have to drive no farther. There +be the farm-house,--over the up-land yonder, you can't see it because o' +the trees, but there it be." + +So, Bellew sighed resignedly, and, perforce, climbed down into the road. + +"What do I owe you?" he enquired. + +"Owe me!" said the Waggoner, staring. + +"For the ride, and the--er--very necessary exercise you afforded me." + +"Lord!" cried the Waggoner with a sudden, great laugh, "you don't owe me +nothin' for that,--not nohow,--I owe you one for a knocking of me into +that ditch, back yonder, though, to be sure, I did give ye one or two +good 'uns, didn't I?" + +"You certainly did!" answered Bellew smiling, and he held out his hand. + +"Hey!--what be this?" cried the Waggoner, staring down at the bright +five-shilling piece in his palm. + +"Well, I rather think it's five shillings," said Bellew. "It's big +enough, heaven knows. English money is all O.K., I suppose, but it's +confoundedly confusing, and rather heavy to drag around if you happen to +have enough of it--" + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "but then nobody never _has_ enough of +it,--leastways, I never knowed nobody as had. Good-bye, sir! and +thankee, and--good luck!" saying which, the Waggoner chirrupped to his +horses, slipped the coin into his pocket, nodded, and the waggon creaked +and rumbled up the lane. + +Bellew strolled along the road, breathing an air fragrant with +honey-suckle from the hedges, and full of the song of birds; pausing, +now and then, to listen to the blythe carol of a sky-lark, or the rich; +sweet notes of a black-bird, and feeling that it was indeed, good to be +alive; so that, what with all this,--the springy turf beneath his feet, +and the blue expanse over-head, he began to whistle for very joy of it, +until, remembering the Haunting Shadow of the Might Have Been, he +checked himself, and sighed instead. Presently, turning from the road, +he climbed a stile, and followed a narrow path that led away across the +meadows, and, as he went, there met him a gentle wind laden with the +sweet, warm scent of ripening hops, and fruit. + +On he went, and on,--heedless of his direction until the sun grew low, +and he grew hungry; wherefore, looking about, he presently espied a nook +sheltered from the sun's level rays by a steep bank where flowers +bloomed, and ferns grew. Here he sat down, unslinging his knap-sack, and +here it was, also, that he first encountered Small Porges. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +_How Small Porges in looking for a fortune for another, found an Uncle +for Himself instead_ + +The meeting of George Bellew and Small Porges, (as he afterward came to +be called), was sudden, precipitate, and wholly unexpected; and it +befell on this wise: + +Bellew had opened his knap-sack, had fished thence cheese, clasp-knife, +and a crusty loaf of bread, and, having exerted himself so far, had +fallen a thinking or a dreaming, in his characteristic attitude, +i.e.:--on the flat of his back, when he was aware of a crash in the +hedge above, and then, of something that hurtled past him, all arms and +legs, that rolled over two or three times, and eventually brought up in +a sitting posture; and, lifting a lazy head, Bellew observed that it was +a boy. He was a very diminutive boy with a round head covered with +coppery curls, a boy who stared at Bellew out of a pair of very round, +blue eyes, while he tenderly cherished a knee, and an elbow. He had been +on the brink of tears for a moment, but meeting Bellew's quizzical gaze, +he manfully repressed the weakness, and, lifting the small, and somewhat +weather-beaten cap that found a precarious perch at the back of his +curly head, he gravely wished Bellew "Good afternoon!" + +"Well met, my Lord Chesterfield!" nodded Bellew, returning the salute, +"are you hurt?" + +"Just a bit--on the elbow; but my name's George." + +"Why--so is mine!" said Bellew. + +"Though they call me 'Georgy-Porgy.'" + +"Of course they do," nodded Bellew, "they used to call me the same, once +upon a time,-- + + Georgy Porgy, pudding and pie + Kissed the girls, and made them cry, + +though I never did anything of the kind,--one doesn't do that sort of +thing when one is young,--and wise, that comes later, and brings its own +care, and--er--heart-break." Here Bellew sighed, and hacked a piece from +the loaf with the clasp-knife. "Are you hungry, Georgy Porgy?" he +enquired, glancing up at the boy who had risen, and was removing some of +the soil and dust from his small person with his cap. + +"Yes I am." + +"Then here is bread, and cheese, and bottled stout,--so fall to, good +comrade." + +"Thank you, but I've got a piece of bread an' jam in my bundle,--" + +"Bundle?" + +"I dropped it as I came through the hedge, I'll get it," and as he +spoke, he turned, and, climbing up the bank, presently came back with a +very small bundle that dangled from the end of a very long stick, and +seating himself beside Bellew, he proceeded to open it. There, sure +enough, was the bread and jam in question, seemingly a little the worse +for wear and tear, for Bellew observed various articles adhering to it, +amongst other things, a battered penknife, and a top. These, however, +were readily removed, and Georgy Porgy fell to with excellent appetite. + +"And pray," enquired Bellew, after they had munched silently together, +some while, "pray where might you be going?" + +"I don't know yet," answered Georgy Porgy with a shake of his curls. + +"Good again!" exclaimed Bellew, "neither do I." + +"Though I've been thinking of Africa," continued his diminutive +companion, turning the remain of the bread and jam over and over +thoughtfully. + +"Africa!" repeated Bellew, staring, "that's quite a goodish step from +here." + +"Yes," sighed Georgy Porgy, "but, you see, there's gold there, oh, lots +of it! they dig it out of the ground with shovels, you know. Old Adam +told me all 'bout it; an' it's gold I'm looking for, you see, I'm trying +to find a fortune." + +"I--er--beg your pardon--?" said Bellew. + +"Money, you know," explained Georgy Porgy with a patient sigh, "pounds, +an' shillings, an' bank-notes--in a sack if I can get them." + +"And what does such a very small Georgy Porgy want so much money for?" + +"Well, it's for my Auntie, you know, so she won't have to sell her +house, an' go away from Dapplemere. She was telling me, last night, when +I was in bed,--she always comes to tuck me up, you know, an' she told me +she was 'fraid we'd have to sell Dapplemere an' go to live somewhere +else. So I asked why, an' she said ''cause she hadn't any money,' an' +'Oh Georgy!' she said, 'oh Georgy, if we could only find enough money to +pay off the--the--'" + +"Mortgage?" suggested Bellew, at a venture. + +"Yes,--that's it, but how did you know?" + +"Never mind how, go on with your tale, Georgy Porgy." + +"'If--we could only find enough money, or somebody would leave us a +fortune,' she said,--an' she was crying too, 'cause I felt a tear fall +on me, you know. So this morning I got up, awful' early, an' made myself +a bundle on a stick,--like Dick Whittington had when he left home, an' I +started off to find a fortune." + +"I see," nodded Bellew. + +"But I haven't found anything--yet," said Georgy Porgy, with a long +sigh, "I s'pose money takes a lot of looking for, doesn't it?" + +"Sometimes," Bellew answered. "And do you live alone with your Auntie +then, Georgy Porgy?" + +"Yes;--most boys live with their mothers, but that's where I'm +different, I don't need one 'cause I've got my Auntie Anthea." + +"Anthea!" repeated Bellew, thoughtfully. Hereupon they fell silent, +Bellew watching the smoke curl up from his pipe into the warm, still +air, and Georgy Porgy watching him with very thoughtful eyes, and a +somewhat troubled brow, as if turning over some weighty matter in his +mind; at last, he spoke: + +"Please," said he, with a sudden diffidence, "where do you live?" + +"Live," repeated Bellew, smiling, "under my hat,--here, there, and +everywhere, which means--nowhere in particular." + +"But I--I mean--where is your home?" + +"My home," said Bellew, exhaling a great cloud of smoke, "my home lies +beyond the 'bounding billow." + +"That sounds an awful' long way off." + +"It _is_ an awful' long way off." + +"An' where do you sleep while--while you're here?" + +"Anywhere they'll let me. To-night I shall sleep at some inn, I suppose, +if I can find one, if not,--under a hedge, or hay-rick." + +"Oh!--haven't you got any home of your own, then,--here?" + +"No." + +"And--you're not going home just yet,--I mean across the 'bounding +billow?'" + +"Not yet." + +"Then--please--" the small boy's voice was suddenly tremulous and eager, +and he laid a little, grimy hand upon Bellew's sleeve, "please--if it +isn't too much trouble--would you mind coming with me--to--to help me to +find the fortune?--you see, you are so very big, an'--Oh!--will +you please?" + +George Bellew sat up suddenly, and smiled; Bellew's smile was, at all +times, wonderfully pleasant to see, at least, the boy thought so. + +"Georgy Porgy," said he, "you can just bet your small life, I will,--and +there's my hand on it, old chap." Bellew's lips were solemn now, but all +the best of his smile seemed, somehow, to have got into his gray eyes. +So the big hand clasped the small one, and as they looked at each other, +there sprang up a certain understanding that was to be an enduring bond +between them. + +"I think," said Bellew, as he lay, and puffed at his pipe again, "I +think I'll call you Porges, it's shorter, easier, and I think, +altogether apt; I'll be Big Porges, and you shall be Small Porges,--what +do you say?" + +"Yes, it's lots better than Georgy Porgy," nodded the boy. And so Small +Porges he became, thenceforth. "But," said he, after a thoughtful pause, +"I think, if you don't mind, I'd rather call you----Uncle Porges. You +see, Dick Bennet--the black-smith's boy, has three uncles an' I've only +got a single aunt,--so, if you don't mind--" + +"Uncle Porges it shall be, now and for ever, Amen!" murmured Bellew. + +"An' when d'you s'pose we'd better start?" enquired Small Porges, +beginning to re-tie his bundle. + +"Start where, nephew?" + +"To find the fortune." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"If we could manage to find some,--even if it was only a very little, it +would cheer her up so." + +"To be sure it would," said Bellew, and, sitting up, he pitched loaf, +cheese, and clasp-knife back into the knap-sack, fastened it, slung it +upon his shoulders, and rising, took up his stick. + +"Come on, my Porges," said he, "and, whatever you do--keep your 'weather +eye' on your uncle." + +"Where do you s'pose we'd better look first?" enquired Small Porges, +eagerly. + +"Why, first, I think we'd better find your Auntie Anthea." + +"But,--" began Porges, his face falling. + +"But me no buts, my Porges," smiled Bellew, laying his hand upon his +new-found nephew's shoulder, "but me no buts, boy, and, as I said +before,--just keep your eye on your uncle." + + + +CHAPTER V + +_How Bellew came to Arcadia_ + +So, they set out together, Big Porges and Small Porges, walking side by +side over sun-kissed field and meadow, slowly and thoughtfully, to be +sure, for Bellew disliked hurry; often pausing to listen to the music of +running waters, or to stare away across the purple valley, for the sun +was getting low. And, ever as they went, they talked to one another +whole-heartedly as good friends should. + +And, from the boy's eager lips, Bellew heard much of "Auntie Anthea," +and learned, little by little, something of the brave fight she had +made, lonely and unaided, and burdened with ancient debt, to make the +farm of Dapplemere pay. Likewise Small Porges spoke learnedly of the +condition of the markets, and of the distressing fall in prices in +regard to hay, and wheat. + +"Old Adam,--he's our man, you know, he says that farming isn't what it +was in his young days, 'specially if you happen to be a woman, like my +Auntie Anthea, an' he told me yesterday that if he were Auntie he'd give +up trying, an' take Mr. Cassilis at his word." + +"Cassilis, ah!--And who is Mr. Cassilis?" + +"He lives at 'Brampton Court'--a great, big house 'bout a mile from +Dapplemere; an' he's always asking my Auntie to marry him, but 'course +she won't you know." + +"Why not?" + +"Well, I think it's 'cause he's got such big, white teeth when he +smiles,--an' he's always smiling, you know; but Old Adam says that if +he'd been born a woman he'd marry a man all teeth, or no teeth at all, +if he had as much money as Mr. Cassilis." + +The sun was low in the West as, skirting a wood, they came out upon a +grassy lane that presently led them into the great, broad highway. + +Now, as they trudged along together, Small Porges with one hand clasped +in Bellew's, and the other supporting the bundle on his shoulder, there +appeared, galloping towards them a man on a fine black horse, at sight +of whom, Porges' clasp tightened, and he drew nearer to Bellew's side. + +When he was nearly abreast of them, the horse-man checked his career so +suddenly that his animal was thrown back on his haunches. + +"Why--Georgy!" he exclaimed. + +"Good evening, Mr. Cassilis!" said Small Porges, lifting his cap. + +Mr. Cassilis was tall, handsome, well built, and very particular as to +dress. Bellew noticed that his teeth were, indeed, very large and white, +beneath the small, carefully trained moustache; also his eyes seemed +just a trifle too close together, perhaps. + +"Why--what in the world have you been up to, boy?" he enquired, +regarding Bellew with no very friendly eye. "Your Aunt is worrying +herself ill on your account,--what have you been doing with yourself +all day?" + +Again Bellew felt the small fingers tighten round his, and the small +figure shrink a little closer to him, as Small Porges answered, + +"I've been with Uncle Porges, Mr. Cassilis." + +"With whom?" demanded Mr. Cassilis, more sharply. + +"With his Uncle Porges, sir," Bellew rejoined, "a trustworthy person, +and very much at your service." + +Mr. Cassilis stared, his hand began to stroke and caress his small, +black moustache, and he viewed Bellew from his dusty boots up to the +crown of his dusty hat, and down again, with supercilious eyes. + +"Uncle?" he repeated incredulously. + +"Porges," nodded Bellew. + +"I wasn't aware," began Mr. Cassilis, "that--er--George was so very +fortunate--" + +"Baptismal name--George," continued Bellew, "lately of New York, +Newport, and--er--other places in America, U.S.A., at present of +Nowhere-in-Particular." + +"Ah!" said Mr. Cassilis, his eyes seeming to grow a trifle nearer +together, "an American Uncle? Still, I was not aware of even that +relationship." + +"It is a singularly pleasing thought," smiled Bellew, "to know that we +may learn something every day,--that one never knows what the day may +bring forth; to-morrow, for instance, you also may find yourself a +nephew--somewhere or other, though, personally, I--er doubt it, yes, I +greatly doubt it; still, one never knows, you know, and while there's +life, there's hope. A very good afternoon to you, sir. Come, nephew +mine, the evening falls apace, and I grow aweary,--let us +on--Excelsior!" + +Mr. Cassilis's cheek grew suddenly red, he twirled his moustache +angrily, and seemed about to speak, then he smiled instead, and turning +his horse, spurred him savagely, and galloped back down the road in a +cloud of dust. + +"Did you see his teeth, Uncle Porges?" + +"I did." + +"He only smiles like that when he's awful' angry," said Small Porges +shaking his head as the galloping hoof-strokes died away in the +distance, "An' what do you s'pose he went back for?" + +"Well, Porges, it's in my mind that he has gone back to warn our Auntie +Anthea of our coming." + +Small Porges sighed, and his feet dragged in the dust. + +"Tired, my Porges?" + +"Just a bit, you know,--but it isn't that. I was thinking that the day +has almost gone, an' I haven't found a bit of the fortune yet." + +"Why there's always to-morrow to live for, my Porges." + +"Yes, 'course--there's always to-morrow; an' then,--I did find you, you +know, Uncle Porges." + +"To be sure you did, and an uncle is better than nothing at all, isn't +he,--even if he is rather dusty and disreputable of exterior. One +doesn't find an uncle every day of one's life, my Porges, no sir!" + +"An' you are so nice an' big, you know!" said Porges, viewing Bellew +with a bright, approving eye. + +"Long, would be a better word, perhaps," suggested Bellew, smiling down +at him. + +"An' wide, too!" nodded Small Porges. And, from these two facts he +seemed to derive a deal of solid comfort, and satisfaction for he strode +on manfully once more. + +Leaving the high-road, he guided Bellew by divers winding paths, through +corn-fields, and over stiles, until, at length, they were come to an +orchard. Such an orchard as surely may only be found in Kent,--where +great apple-trees, gnarled, and knotted, shot out huge branches that +seemed to twist, and writhe; where were stately pear trees; where +peaches, and apricots, ripened against time-worn walls whose red bricks +still glowed rosily for all their years; where the air was sweet with +the scent of fruit, and fragrant with thyme, and sage, and marjoram; and +where the black-birds, bold marauders that they are, piped gloriously +all day long. In the midst of this orchard they stopped, and Small +Porges rested one hand against the rugged bole of a great, old +apple tree. + +"This," said he, "is my very own tree, because he's so very big, an' so +very, very old,--Adam says he's the oldest tree in the orchard. I call +him 'King Arthur' 'cause he is so big, an' strong,--just like a king +should be, you know,--an' all the other trees are his Knights of the +Round Table." + +But Bellew was not looking at "King Arthur" just then; his eyes were +turned to where one came towards them through the green,--one surely as +tall, and gracious, as proud and beautiful, as Enid, or Guinevere, or +any of those lovely ladies, for all her simple gown of blue, and the +sunbonnet that shaded the beauty of her face. Yes, as he gazed, Bellew +was sure and certain that she who, all unconscious of their presence, +came slowly towards them with the red glow of the sunset about her, was +handsomer, lovelier, statelier, and altogether more desirable than all +the beautiful ladies of King Arthur's court,--or any other court so-ever. + +But now Small Porges finding him so silent, and seeing where he looked, +must needs behold her too, and gave a sudden, glad cry, and ran out from +behind the great bulk of "King Arthur," and she, hearing his voice, +turned and ran to meet him, and sank upon her knees before him, and +clasped him against her heart, and rejoiced, and wept, and scolded him, +all in a breath. Wherefore Bellew, unobserved, as yet in "King Arthur's" +shadow, watching the proud head with its wayward curls, (for the +sunbonnet had been tossed back upon her shoulders), watching the quick, +passionate caress of those slender, brown hands, and listening to the +thrilling tenderness of that low, soft voice, felt, all at once, +strangely lonely, and friendless, and out of place, very rough and +awkward, and very much aware of his dusty person,--felt, indeed, as any +other ordinary human might, who had tumbled unexpectedly into Arcadia; +therefore he turned, thinking to steal quietly away. + +"You see, Auntie, I went out to try an' find a fortune for you," Small +Porges was explaining, "an' I looked, an' looked, but I didn't find +a bit--" + +"My dear, dear, brave Georgy!" said Anthea, and would have kissed him +again, but he put her off: + +"Wait a minute, please Auntie," he said excitedly, "'cause I did +find--something,--just as I was growing very tired an' disappointed, I +found Uncle Porges--under a hedge, you know." + +"Uncle Porges!" said Anthea, starting, "Oh! that must be the man Mr. +Cassilis mentioned--" + +"So I brought him with me," pursued Small Porges, "an' there he is!" and +he pointed triumphantly towards "King Arthur." + +Glancing thither, Anthea beheld a tall, dusty figure moving off among +the trees. + +"Oh,--wait, please!" she called, rising to her feet, and, with Small +Porges' hand in hers, approached Bellew who had stopped with his dusty +back to them. + +"I--I want to thank you for--taking care of my nephew. If you will come +up to the house cook shall give you a good meal, and, if you are in need +of work, I--I--" her voice faltered uncertainly, and she stopped. + +"Thank you!" said Bellew, turning and lifting his hat. + +"Oh!--I beg your pardon!" said Anthea. + +Now as their eyes met, it seemed to Bellew as though he had lived all +his life in expectation of this moment, and he knew that all his life he +should never forget this moment. But now, even while he looked at her, +he saw her cheeks flush painfully, and her dark eyes grow troubled. + +"I beg your pardon!" said she again, "I--I thought--Mr. Cassilis gave me +to understand that you were--" + +"A very dusty, hungry-looking fellow, perhaps," smiled Bellew, "and he +was quite right, you know; the dust you can see for yourself, but the +hunger you must take my word for. As for the work, I assure you exercise +is precisely what I am looking for." + +"But--" said Anthea, and stopped, and tapped the grass nervously with +her foot, and twisted one of her bonnet-strings, and meeting Bellew's +steady gaze, flushed again, "but you--you are--" + +"My Uncle Porges," her nephew chimed in, "an' I brought him home with me +'cause he's going to help me to find a fortune, an' he hasn't got any +place to go to 'cause his home's far, far beyond the 'bounding +billow,'--so you will let him stay, won't you, Auntie Anthea?" + +"Why--Georgy--" she began, but seeing her distressed look, Bellew came +to her rescue. + +"Pray do, Miss Anthea," said he in his quiet, easy manner. "My name is +Bellew," he went on to explain, "I am an American, without family or +friends, here, there or anywhere, and with nothing in the world to do +but follow the path of the winds. Indeed, I am rather a solitary fellow, +at least--I was, until I met my nephew Porges here. Since then, I've +been wondering if there would be--er--room for such as I, at +Dapplemere?" + +"Oh, there would be plenty of room," said Anthea, hesitating, and +wrinkling her white brow, for a lodger was something entirely new in her +experience. + +"As to my character," pursued Bellew, "though something of a vagabond, I +am not a rogue,--at least, I hope not, and I could pay--er--four or five +pounds a week--" + +"Oh!" exclaimed Anthea, with a little gasp. + +"If that would be sufficient--" + +"It is--a great deal too much!" said Anthea who would have scarcely +dared to ask three. + +"Pardon me!--but I think not," said Bellew, shaking his head, "you see, +I am--er--rather extravagant in my eating,--eggs, you know, lots of 'em, +and ham, and beef, and--er--(a duck quacked loudly from the vicinity of +a neighbouring pond),--certainly,--an occasional duck! Indeed, five +pounds a week would scarcely--" + +"Three would be ample!" said Anthea with a little nod of finality. + +"Very well," said Bellew, "we'll make it four, and have done with it." + +Anthea Devine, being absolute mistress of Dapplemere, was in the habit +of exerting her authority, and having her own way in most things; +therefore, she glanced up, in some surprise, at this tall, dusty, rather +lazy looking personage; and she noticed, even as had Small Porges, that +he was indeed very big and wide; she noticed also that, despite the easy +courtesy of his manner, and the quizzical light of his gray eyes, his +chin was very square, and that, despite his gentle voice, he had the air +of one who meant exactly what he said. Nevertheless she was much +inclined to take issue with him upon the matter; plainly observing +which, Bellew smiled, and shook his head. + +"Pray be reasonable," he said in his gentle voice, "if you send me away +to some horrible inn or other, it will cost me--being an American, +--more than that every week, in tips and things,--so let's shake hands +on it, and call it settled," and he held out his hand to her. + +Four pounds a week! It would be a veritable God-send just at present, +while she was so hard put to it to make both ends meet. Four pounds a +week! So Anthea stood, lost in frowning thought until meeting his frank +smile, she laughed. + +"You are dreadfully persistent!" she said, "and I know it is too +much,--but--we'll try to make you as comfortable as we can," and she +laid her hand in his. + +And thus it was that George Bellew came to Dapplemere in the glory of +the after-glow of an August afternoon, breathing the magic air of +Arcadia which is, and always has been, of that rare quality warranted to +go to the head, sooner, or later. + +And thus it was that Small Porges with his bundle on his shoulder, +viewed this tall, dusty Uncle with the eye of possession which is +oft-times an eye of rapture. + +And Anthea? She was busy calculating to a scrupulous nicety the very +vexed question as to exactly how far four pounds per week might be made +to go to the best possible advantage of all concerned. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +_Of the sad condition of the Haunting Spectre of the Might Have Been_ + +Dapplemere Farm House, or "The Manor," as it was still called by many, +had been built when Henry the Eighth was King, as the carved inscription +above the door testified. + +The House of Dapplemere was a place of many gables, and latticed +windows, and with tall, slender chimneys shaped, and wrought into things +of beauty and delight. It possessed a great, old hall; there were +spacious chambers, and broad stairways; there were panelled corridors; +sudden flights of steps that led up, or down again, for no apparent +reason; there were broad, and generous hearths, and deep window-seats; +and everywhere, within, and without, there lurked an indefinable, +old-world charm that was the heritage of years. + +Storms had buffeted, and tempests had beaten upon it, but all in vain, +for, save that the bricks glowed a deeper red where they peeped out +beneath the clinging ivy, the old house stood as it had upon that far +day when it was fashioned,--in the Year of Our Lord One Thousand Five +Hundred and Twenty-four. + +In England many such houses are yet to be found, monuments of the "Bad +Old Times"--memorials of the "Dark Ages"--when lath and stucco existed +not, and the "Jerry-builder" had no being. But where, among them all, +might be found such another parlour as this at Dapplemere, with its low, +raftered ceiling, its great, carved mantel, its panelled walls whence +old portraits looked down at one like dream faces, from dim, and +nebulous backgrounds. And where might be found two such bright-eyed, +rosy-cheeked, quick-footed, deft-handed Phyllises as the two buxom maids +who flitted here and there, obedient to their mistress's word, or +gesture. And, lastly, where, in all this wide world, could there ever be +found just such another hostess as Miss Anthea, herself? Something of +all this was in Bellew's mind as he sat with Small Porges beside him, +watching Miss Anthea dispense tea,--brewed as it should be, in an +earthen tea-pot. + +"Milk and sugar, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Thank you!" + +"This is blackberry, an' this is raspberry an' red currant--but the +blackberry jam's the best, Uncle Porges!" + +"Thank you, nephew." + +"Now aren't you awful' glad I found you--under that hedge, Uncle +Porges?" + +"Nephew,--I am!" + +"Nephew?" repeated Anthea, glancing at him with raised brows. + +"Oh yes!" nodded Bellew, "we adopted each other--at about four o'clock, +this afternoon." + +"Under a hedge, you know!" added Small Porges. + +"Wasn't it a very sudden, and altogether--unheard of proceeding?" Anthea +enquired. + +"Well, it might have been if it had happened anywhere but in Arcadia." + +"What do you mean by Arcadia, Uncle Porges?" + +"A place I've been looking for--nearly all my life, nephew. I'll trouble +you for the blackberry jam, my Porges." + +"Yes, try the blackberry,--Aunt Priscilla made it her very own self." + +"You know it's perfectly--ridiculous!" said Anthea, frowning and +laughing, both at the same time. + +"What is, Miss Anthea?" + +"Why that you should be sitting here calling Georgy your nephew, and +that I should be pouring out tea for you, quite as a matter of course." + +"It seems to me the most delightfully natural thing in the world," said +Bellew, in his slow, grave manner. + +"But--I've only known you--half an hour--!" + +"But then, friendships ripen quickly--in Arcadia." + +"I wonder what Aunt Priscilla will have to say about it!" + +"Aunt Priscilla?" + +"She is our housekeeper,--the dearest, busiest, gentlest little +housekeeper in all the world; but with--very sharp eyes, Mr. Bellew. She +will either like you very much,--or--not at all! there are no half +measures about Aunt Priscilla." + +"Now I wonder which it will be," said Bellew, helping himself to more +jam. + +"Oh, she'll like you, a course!" nodded Small Porges, "I know she'll +like you 'cause you're so different to Mr. Cassilis,--he's got black +hair, an' a mestache, you know, an' your hair's gold, like mine,--an' +your mestache--isn't there, is it? An' I know she doesn't like Mr. +Cassilis, an' I don't, either, 'cause--" + +"She will be back to-morrow," said Anthea, silencing Small Porges with a +gentle touch of her hand, "and we shall be glad, sha'n't we, Georgy? The +house is not the same place without her. You see, I am off in the fields +all day, as a rule; a farm,--even such a small one as Dapplemere, is a +great responsibility, and takes up all one's time--if it is to be +made to pay--" + +"An' sometimes it doesn't pay at all, you know!" added Small Porges, +"an' then Auntie Anthea worries, an' I worry too. Farming isn't what it +was in Adam's young days,--so that's why I must find a fortune--early +tomorrow morning, you know,--so my Auntie won't have to worry +any more--" + +Now when he had got thus far, Anthea leaned over, and, taking him by +surprise, kissed Small Porges suddenly. + +"It was very good, and brave of you, dear," said she in her soft, +thrilling voice, "to go out all alone into this big world to try and +find a fortune for me!" and here she would have kissed him again but +that he reminded her that they were not alone. + +"But, Georgy dear,--fortunes are very hard to find,--especially round +Dapplemere, I'm afraid!" said she, with a rueful little laugh. + +"Yes, that's why I was going to Africa, you know." + +"Africa!" she repeated, "Africa!" + +"Oh yes," nodded Bellew, "when I met him he was on his way there to +bring back gold for you--in a sack." + +"Only Uncle Porges said it was a goodish way off, you know, so I 'cided +to stay an' find the fortune nearer home." + +And thus they talked unaffectedly together until, tea being over, Anthea +volunteered to show Bellew over her small domain, and they went out, all +three, into an evening that breathed of roses, and honeysuckle. + +And, as they went, slow-footed through the deepening twilight, Small +Porges directed Bellew's attention to certain nooks and corners that +might be well calculated to conceal the fortune they were to find; while +Anthea pointed out to him the beauties of shady wood, of rolling meadow, +and winding stream. + +But there were other beauties that neither of them thought to call to +his attention, but which Bellew noted with observing eyes, none the +less:--such, for instance, as the way Anthea had of drooping her shadowy +lashes at sudden and unexpected moments; the wistful droop of her warm, +red lips, and the sweet, round column of her throat. These, and much +beside, Bellew noticed for himself as they walked on together through +this midsummer evening.... And so, betimes, Bellew got him to bed, and, +though the hour was ridiculously early, yet he fell into a profound +slumber, and dreamed of--nothing at all. But, far away upon the road, +forgotten, and out of mind,--with futile writhing and grimaces, the +Haunting Shadow of the Might Have Been jibbered in the shadows. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +_Which concerns itself among other matters, with "the Old Adam"_ + +Bellew awakened early next morning, which was an unusual thing for +Bellew to do under ordinary circumstances since he was one who held with +that poet who has written, somewhere or other, something to the +following effect: + +"God bless the man who first discovered sleep. But damn the man with +curses loud, and deep, who first invented--early rising." + +Nevertheless, Bellew, (as has been said), awoke early next morning, to +find the sun pouring in at his window, and making a glory all about him. +But it was not this that had roused him, he thought as he lay blinking +drowsily,--nor the black-bird piping so wonderfully in the apple-tree +outside,--a very inquisitive apple-tree that had writhed, and contorted +itself most un-naturally in its efforts to peep in at the +window;--therefore Bellew fell to wondering, sleepily enough, what it +could have been. Presently it came again, the sound,--a very peculiar +sound the like of which Bellew had never heard before, which, as he +listened, gradually evolved itself into a kind of monotonous chant, +intoned by a voice deep, and harsh, yet withal, not unmusical. Now the +words of the chant were these: + + "When I am dead, diddle, diddle, as well may hap, + Bury me deep, diddle, diddle, under the tap, + Under the tap, diddle, diddle, I'll tell you why, + That I may drink, diddle, diddle, when I am dry." + +Hereupon, Bellew rose, and crossing to the open casement leaned out into +the golden freshness of the morning. Looking about he presently espied +the singer,--one who carried two pails suspended from a yoke upon his +shoulders,--a very square man; that is to say, square of shoulder, +square of head, and square of jaw, being, in fact, none other than the +Waggoner with whom he had fought, and ridden on the previous afternoon; +seeing which, Bellew hailed him in cheery greeting. The man glanced up, +and, breaking off his song in the middle of a note, stood gazing at +Bellew, open-mouthed. + +"What,--be that you, sir?" he enquired, at last, and then,--"Lord! an' +what be you a doing of up theer?" + +"Why, sleeping, of course," answered Bellew. + +"W'ot--again!" exclaimed the Waggoner with a grin, "you do be for ever +a-sleepin' I do believe!" + +"Not when you're anywhere about!" laughed Bellew. + +"Was it me as woke ye then?" + +"Your singing did." + +"My singin'! Lord love ye, an' well it might! My singin' would wake the +dead,--leastways so Prudence says, an' she's generally right, +--leastways, if she ain't, she's a uncommon good cook, an' that goes a +long way wi' most of us. But I don't sing very often unless I be alone, +or easy in my mind an' 'appy-'earted,--which I ain't." + +"No?" enquired Bellew. + +"Not by no manner o' means, I ain't,--contrariwise my 'eart be sore an' +full o' gloom,--which ain't to be wondered at, nohow." + +"And yet you were singing." + +"Aye, for sure I were singin', but then who could help singin' on such a +mornin' as this be, an' wi' the black-bird a-piping away in the tree +here. Oh! I were singin', I don't go for to deny it, but it's sore +'earted I be, an' filled wi' gloom sir, notwithstanding." + +"You mean," said Bellew, becoming suddenly thoughtful, "that you are +haunted by the Carking Spectre of the--er Might Have Been?" + +"Lord bless you, no sir! This ain't no spectre, nor yet no +skellington,--which, arter all, is only old bones an' such,--no this +ain't nothin' of that sort, an' no more it ain't a thing as I can stand +'ere a maggin' about wi' a long day's work afore me, axing your pardon, +sir." Saying which, the Waggoner nodded suddenly and strode off with his +pails clanking cheerily. + +Very soon Bellew was shaved, and dressed, and going down stairs he let +himself out into the early sunshine, and strolled away towards the +farm-yard where cocks crew, cows lowed, ducks quacked, turkeys and geese +gobbled and hissed, and where the Waggoner moved to and fro among them +all, like a presiding genius. + +"I think," said Bellew, as he came up, "I think you must be the Adam I +have heard of." + +"That be my name, sir." + +"Then Adam, fill your pipe," and Bellew extended his pouch, whereupon +Adam thanked him, and fishing a small, short, black clay from his +pocket, proceeded to fill, and light it. + +"Yes sir," he nodded, inhaling the tobacco with much apparent enjoyment, +"Adam I were baptized some thirty odd year ago, but I generally calls +myself 'Old Adam,'" + +"But you're not old, Adam." + +"Why, it ain't on account o' my age, ye see sir,--it be all because o' +the Old Adam as is inside o' me. Lord love ye! I am nat'rally that full +o' the 'Old Adam' as never was. An' 'e's alway a up an' taking of me at +the shortest notice. Only t'other day he up an' took me because Job +Jagway ('e works for Squire Cassilis, you'll understand sir) because Job +Jagway sez as our wheat, (meanin' Miss Anthea's wheat, you'll understand +sir) was mouldy; well, the 'Old Adam' up an' took me to that extent, +sir, that they 'ad to carry Job Jagway home, arterwards. Which is all on +account o' the Old Adam,--me being the mildest chap you ever see, +nat'rally,--mild? ah! sucking doves wouldn't be nothin' to me for +mildness." + +"And what did the Squire have to say about your spoiling his man?" + +"Wrote to Miss Anthea, o' course, sir,--he's always writing to Miss +Anthea about summat or other,--sez as how he was minded to lock me up +for 'sault an' battery, but, out o' respect for her, would let me off, +wi' a warning." + +"Miss Anthea was worried, I suppose?" + +"Worried, sir! 'Oh Adam!' sez she, 'Oh Adam! 'aven't I got enough to +bear but you must make it 'arder for me?' An' I see the tears in her +eyes while she said it. Me make it 'arder for her! Jest as if I wouldn't +make things lighter for 'er if I could,--which I can't; jest as if, to +help Miss Anthea, I wouldn't let 'em take me an'--well, never mind +what,--only I would!" + +"Yes, I'm sure you would," nodded Bellew. "And is the Squire over here +at Dapplemere very often, Adam?" + +"Why, not so much lately, sir. Last time were yesterday, jest afore +Master Georgy come 'ome. I were at work here in the yard, an' Squire +comes riding up to me, smiling quite friendly like,--which were pretty +good of him, considering as Job Jagway ain't back to work yet. 'Oh +Adam!' sez he, 'so you're 'aving a sale here at Dapplemere, are you?' +Meaning sir, a sale of some bits, an' sticks o' furnitur' as Miss +Anthea's forced to part wi' to meet some bill or other. 'Summat o' that +sir,' says I, making as light of it as I could. 'Why then, Adam,' sez +he, 'if Job Jagway should 'appen to come over to buy a few o' the +things,--no more fighting!' sez he. An' so he nods, an' smiles, an' off +he rides. An' sir, as I watched him go, the 'Old Adam' riz up in me to +that extent as it's a mercy I didn't have no pitchfork 'andy." + +Bellew, sitting on the shaft of a cart with his back against a rick, +listened to this narration with an air of dreamy abstraction, but Adam's +quick eyes noticed that despite the unruffled serenity of his brow, his +chin seemed rather more prominent than usual. + +"So that was why you were feeling gloomy, was it, Adam?" + +"Ah! an' enough to make any man feel gloomy, I should think. Miss +Anthea's brave enough, but I reckon 'twill come nigh breakin' 'er 'eart +to see the old stuff sold, the furnitur' an' that,--so she's goin' to +drive over to Cranbrook to be out o' the way while it's a-doin'." + +"And when does the sale take place?" + +"The Saturday arter next, sir, as ever was," Adam answered. +"But--hush,--mum's the word, sir!" he broke off, and winking violently +with a side-ways motion of the head, he took up his pitch-fork. +Wherefore, glancing round, Bellew saw Anthea coming towards them, fresh +and sweet as the morning. Her hands were full of flowers, and she +carried her sun-bonnet upon her arm. Here and there a rebellious curl +had escaped from its fastenings as though desirous (and very naturally) +of kissing the soft oval of her cheek, or the white curve of her neck. +And among them Bellew noticed one in particular,--a roguish curl that +glowed in the sun with a coppery light, and peeped at him wantonly +above her ear. + +"Good morning!" said he, rising and, to all appearance, addressing the +curl in question, "you are early abroad this morning!" + +"Early, Mr. Bellew!--why I've been up hours. I'm generally out at four +o'clock on market days; we work hard, and long, at Dapplemere," she +answered, giving him her hand with her grave, sweet smile. + +"Aye, for sure!" nodded Adam, "but farmin' ain't what it was in my young +days!" + +"But I think we shall do well with the hops, Adam." + +"'Ops, Miss Anthea,--lord love you!--there ain't no 'ops nowhere so good +as ourn be!" + +"They ought to be ready for picking, soon,--do you think sixty people +will be enough?" + +"Ah!--they'll be more'n enough, Miss Anthea." + +"And, Adam--the five-acre field should be mowed today." + +"I'll set the men at it right arter breakfast,--I'll 'ave it done, trust +me, Miss Anthea." + +"I do, Adam,--you know that!" And with a smiling nod she turned away. +Now, as Bellew walked on beside her, he felt a strange constraint upon +him such as he had never experienced towards any woman before, and the +which he was at great pains with himself to account for. Indeed so rapt +was he, that he started suddenly to find that she was asking him +a question: + +"Do you--like Dapplemere, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Like it!" he repeated, "like it? Yes indeed!" + +"I'm so glad!" she answered, her eyes glowing with pleasure. "It was a +much larger property, once,--Look!" and she pointed away across +corn-fields and rolling meadow to the distant woods. "In my +grandfather's time it was all his--as far as you can see, and farther, +but it has dwindled since then, and to-day, my Dapplemere is very +small indeed." + +"You must be very fond of such a beautiful place." + +"Oh, I love it!" she cried passionately, "if ever I had to--give it +up,--I think I should--die!" She stopped suddenly, and as though +somewhat abashed by this sudden outburst, adding in a lighter tone: "If +I seem rather tragic it is because this is the only home I have +ever known." + +"Well," said Bellew, appearing rather more dreamy than usual, just then, +"I have journeyed here and there in this world of ours, I have wandered +up and down, and to and fro in it,--like a certain celebrated personage +who shall be nameless,--yet I never saw, or dreamed, of any such place +as this Dapplemere of yours. It is like Arcadia itself, and only I am +out of place. I seem, somehow, to be too common-place, and altogether +matter-of-fact." + +"I'm sure I'm matter-of-fact enough," she said, with her low, sweet +laugh that, Bellew thought, was all too rare. + +"You?" said he, and shook his head. + +"Well?" she enquired, glancing at him through her wind-tossed curls. + +"You are like some fair, and stately lady out of the old romances," he +said gravely. + +"In a print gown, and with a sun-bonnet!" + +"Even so!" he nodded. Here, for no apparent reason, happening to meet +his glance, the colour deepened in her cheek and she was silent; +wherefore Bellew went on, in his slow, placid tones. "You surely, are +the Princess ruling this fair land of Arcadia, and I am the Stranger +within your gates. It behoves you, therefore, to be merciful to this +Stranger, if only for the sake of--er--our mutual nephew." + +Whatever Anthea might have said in answer was cut short by Small Porges +himself who came galloping towards them with the sun bright in +his curls. + +"Oh, Uncle Porges!" he panted as he came up, "I was 'fraid you'd gone +away an' left me,--I've been hunting, an' hunting for you ever since +I got up." + +"No, I haven't gone away yet, my Porges, you see." + +"An' you won't go--ever or ever, will you?" + +"That," said Bellew, taking the small hand in his, "that is a question +that we had better leave to the--er--future, nephew." + +"But--why!" + +"Well, you see, it doesn't rest with me--altogether, my Porges." + +"Then who--" he was beginning, but Anthea's soft voice interrupted him. + +"Georgy dear, didn't Prudence send you to tell us that breakfast was +ready?" + +"Oh yes! I was forgetting,--awfull' silly of me wasn't it! But you are +going to stay--Oh a long, long time, aren't you, Uncle Porges?" + +"I sincerely hope so!" answered Bellew. Now as he spoke, his eyes,--by +the merest chance in the world, of course,--happened to meet Anthea's, +whereupon she turned, and slipped on her sunbonnet which was very +natural, for the sun was growing hot already. + +"I'm awful' glad!" sighed Small Porges, "an' Auntie's glad too,--aren't +you Auntie?" + +"Why--of course!" from the depths of the sunbonnet. + +"'Cause now, you see, there'll be two of us to take care of you. Uncle +Porges is so nice an' big, and--wide, isn't he, Auntie?" + +"Y-e-s,--Oh Georgy!--what are you talking about?" + +"Why I mean I'm rather small to take care of you all by myself alone, +Auntie, though I do my best of course. But now that I've found myself a +big, tall Uncle Porges,--under the hedge, you know,--we can take care of +you together, can't we, Auntie Anthea?" + +But Anthea only hurried on without speaking, whereupon Small Porges +continued all unheeding: + +"You 'member the other night, Auntie, when you were crying, you said you +wished you had some one very big, and strong to take care of you--" + +"Oh--Georgy!" + +Bellew heartily wished that sunbonnets had never been thought of. + +"But you did you know, Auntie, an' so that was why I went out an' found +my Uncle Porges for you,--so that he--" + +But here, Mistress Anthea, for all her pride and stateliness, catching +her gown about her, fairly ran on down the path and never paused until +she had reached the cool, dim parlour. Being there, she tossed aside her +sunbonnet, and looked at herself in the long, old mirror, and,--though +surely no mirror made by man, ever reflected a fairer vision of +dark-eyed witchery and loveliness, nevertheless Anthea stamped her foot, +and frowned at it. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, and then again, "Oh Georgy!" and covered her +burning cheeks. + +Meanwhile Big Porges, and Small Porges, walking along hand in hand shook +their heads solemnly, wondering much upon the capriciousness of aunts, +and the waywardness thereof. + +"I wonder why she runned away, Uncle Porges?" + +"Ah, I wonder!" + +"'Specks she's a bit angry with me, you know, 'cause I told you she was +crying." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"An Auntie takes an awful lot of looking after!" sighed Small Porges. + +"Yes," nodded Bellew, "I suppose so,--especially if she happens to be +young, and--er--" + +"An' what, Uncle Porges?" + +"Beautiful, nephew." + +"Oh! Do you think she's--really beautiful?" demanded Small Porges. + +"I'm afraid I do," Bellew confessed. + +"So does Mr. Cassilis,--I heard him tell her so once--in the orchard." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"Ah! but you ought to see her when she comes to tuck me up at night, +with her hair all down, an' hanging all about her--like a shiny cloak, +you know." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"Please Uncle Porges," said Georgy, turning to look up at him, "what +makes you hum so much this morning?" + +"I was thinking, my Porges." + +"'Bout my Auntie Anthea?" + +"I do admit the soft impeachment, sir." + +"Well, I'm thinking too." + +"What is it, old chap?" + +"I'm thinking we ought to begin to find that fortune for her after +breakfast." + +"Why, it isn't quite the right season for fortune hunting, yet--at +least, not in Arcadia," answered Bellew, shaking his head. + +"Oh!--but why not?" + +"Well, the moon isn't right, for one thing." + +"The moon!" echoed Small Porges. + +"Oh yes,--we must wait for a--er--a Money Moon, you know,--surely you've +heard of a Money Moon?" + +"'Fraid not," sighed Small Porges regretfully, "but--I've heard of a +Honey-moon--" + +"They're often much the same!" nodded Bellew. + +"But when will the Money Moon come, an'--how?" + +"I can't exactly say, my Porges, but come it will one of these fine +nights. And when it does we shall know that the fortune is close by, and +waiting to be found. So, don't worry your small head about it,--just +keep your eye on your uncle." + +Betimes they came in to breakfast where Anthea awaited them at the head +of the table. Then who so demure, so gracious and self-possessed, so +sweetly sedate as she. But the Cavalier in the picture above the carved +mantel, versed in the ways of the world, and the pretty tricks and wiles +of the Beau Sex Feminine, smiled down at Bellew with an expression of +such roguish waggery as said plain as words: "We know!" And Bellew, +remembering a certain pair of slender ankles that had revealed +themselves in their hurried flight, smiled back at the cavalier, and it +was all he could do to refrain from winking outright. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +_Which tells of Miss Priscilla, of peaches, and of Sergeant Appleby late +of the 19th Hussars_ + +Small Porges was at his lessons. He was perched at the great oak table +beside the window, pen in hand, and within easy reach of Anthea who sat +busied with her daily letters and accounts. Small Porges was laboriously +inscribing in a somewhat splashed and besmeared copy-book the rather +surprising facts that: + +A stitch in time, saves nine. 9. + +That: + +The Tagus, a river in Spain. R. + +and that: + +Artaxerxes was a king of the Persians. A. + +and the like surprising, curious, and interesting items of news, his pen +making not half so many curls, and twists as did his small, red tongue. +As he wrote, he frowned terrifically, and sighed oft betwixt whiles; and +Bellew watching, where he stood outside the window, noticed that Anthea +frowned also, as she bent over her accounts, and sighed wearily more +than once. + +It was after a sigh rather more hopeless than usual that, chancing to +raise her eyes they encountered those of the watcher outside, who, +seeing himself discovered, smiled, and came to lean in at the +open window. + +"Won't they balance?" he enquired, with a nod toward the heap of bills, +and papers before her. + +"Oh yes," she answered with a rueful little smile, "but--on the wrong +side, if you know what I mean." + +"I know," he nodded, watching how her lashes curled against her cheek. + +"If only we had done better with our first crop of wheat!" she sighed. + +"Job Jagway said it was mouldy, you know,--that's why Adam punched him +in the--" + +"Georgy,--go on with your work, sir!" + +"Yes, Auntie!" And immediately Small Porges' pen began to scratch, and +his tongue to writhe and twist as before. + +"I'm building all my hopes, this year, on the hops," said Anthea, +sinking her head upon her hand, "if they should fail--" + +"Well?" enquired Bellew, with his gaze upon the soft curve of her +throat. + +"I--daren't think of it!" + +"Then don't--let us talk of something else--" + +"Yes,--of Aunt Priscilla!" nodded Anthea, "she is in the garden." + +"And pray who is Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Go and meet her." + +"But--" + +"Go and find her--in the orchard!" repeated Anthea, "Oh do go, and leave +us to our work." + +Thus it was that turning obediently into the orchard, and looking about, +Bellew presently espied a little, bright-eyed old lady who sat beneath +the shadow of "King Arthur" with a rustic table beside her upon which +stood a basket of sewing. Now, as he went, he chanced to spy a ball of +worsted that had fallen by the way, and stooping, therefore, he picked +it up, while she watched him with her quick, bright eyes. + +"Good morning, Mr. Bellew!" she said in response to his salutation, "it +was nice of you to trouble to pick up an old woman's ball of worsted." +As she spoke, she rose, and dropped him a courtesy, and then, as he +looked at her again, he saw that despite her words, and despite her +white hair, she was much younger, and prettier than he had thought. + +"I am Miss Anthea's house-keeper," she went on, "I was away when you +arrived, looking after one of Miss Anthea's old ladies,--pray be seated. +Miss Anthea,--bless her dear heart!--calls me her aunt, but I'm not +really--Oh dear no! I'm no relation at all! But I've lived with her long +enough to feel as if I was her aunt, and her uncle, and her father, and +her mother--all rolled into one,--though I should be rather small to be +so many,--shouldn't I?" and she laughed so gaily, and unaffectedly, that +Bellew laughed too. + +"I tell you all this," she went on, keeping pace to her flying needle, +"because I have taken a fancy to you--on the spot! I always like, or +dislike a person--on the spot,--first impressions you know! Y-e-e-s," +she continued, glancing up at him side-ways, "I like you just as much as +I dislike Mr. Cassilis,--heigho! how I do--detest that man! There, now +that's off my mind!" + +"And why?" enquired Bellew, smiling. + +"Dear me, Mr. Bellew I--how should I know, only I do,--and what's +more--he knows it too! And how," she enquired, changing the subject +abruptly, "how is your bed,--comfortable, mm?" + +"Very!" + +"You sleep well?" + +"Like a top!" + +"Any complaints, so far?" + +"None whatever," laughed Bellew, shaking his head. + +"That is very well. We have never had a boarder before, and Miss +Anthea,--bless her dear soul! was a little nervous about it. And here's +the Sergeant!" + +"I--er--beg your pardon--?" said Bellew. + +"The Sergeant!" repeated Miss Priscilla, with a prim little nod, +"Sergeant Appleby, late of the Nineteenth Hussars,--a soldier every inch +of him, Mr. Bellew,--with one arm--over there by the peaches." Glancing +in the direction she indicated, Bellew observed a tall figure, very +straight and upright, clad in a tight-fitting blue coat, with extremely +tight trousers strapped beneath the insteps, and with a hat balanced +upon his close-cropped, grizzled head at a perfectly impossible angle +for any save an ex-cavalry-man. Now as he stood examining a peach-tree +that flourished against the opposite wall, Bellew saw that his right +sleeve was empty, sure enough, and was looped across his broad chest. + +"The very first thing he will say will be that 'it is a very fine day,'" +nodded Miss Priscilla, stitching away faster than ever, "and the next, +that 'the peaches are doing remarkably well,'--now mark my words, Mr. +Bellew." As she spoke, the Sergeant wheeled suddenly right about face, +and came striding down towards them, jingling imaginary spurs, and with +his stick tucked up under his remaining arm, very much as if it had +been a sabre. + +Being come up to them, the Sergeant raised a stiff arm as though about +to salute them, military fashion, but, apparently changing his mind, +took off the straw hat instead, and put it on again, more over one ear +than ever. + +"A particular fine day, Miss Priscilla, for the time o' the year," said +he. + +"Indeed I quite agree with you Sergeant," returned little Miss Priscilla +with a bright nod, and a sly glance at Bellew, as much as to say, "I +told you so!" "And the peaches, mam," continued the Sergeant, "the +peaches--never looked--better, mam." Having said which, he stood looking +at nothing in particular, with his one hand resting lightly upon +his hip. + +"Yes, to be sure, Sergeant," nodded Miss Priscilla, with another sly +look. "But let me introduce you to Mr. Bellew who is staying at +Dapplemere." The Sergeant stiffened, once more began a salute, changed +his mind, took off his hat instead, and, after looking at it as though +not quite sure what to do with it next, clapped it back upon his ear, in +imminent danger of falling off, and was done with it. + +"Proud to know you, sir,--your servant, sir!" + +"How do you do!" said Bellew, and held out his hand with his frank +smile. The Sergeant hesitated, then put out his remaining hand. + +"My left, sir," said he apologetically, "can't be helped--left my +right--out in India--a good many years ago. Good place for soldiering, +India, sir--plenty of active service--chances of promotion--though +sun bad!" + +"Sergeant," said Miss Priscilla, without seeming to glance up from her +sewing, "Sergeant,--your hat!" Hereupon, the Sergeant gave a sudden, +sideways jerk of the head, and, in the very nick of time, saved the +article in question from tumbling off, and very dexterously brought it +to the top of his close-cropped head, whence it immediately began, +slowly, and by scarcely perceptible degrees to slide down to his +ear again. + +"Sergeant," said Miss Priscilla again, "sit down,--do." + +"Thank you mam," said he, and proceeded to seat himself at the other end +of the rustic bench, where he remained, bolt upright, and with his long +legs stretched out straight before him, as is, and has been, the manner +of cavalrymen since they first wore straps. + +"And now," said he, staring straight in front of him, "how might Miss +Anthea be?" + +"Oh, very well, thank you," nodded Miss Priscilla. + +"Good!" exclaimed the Sergeant, with his eyes still fixed, "very good!" +Here he passed his hand two or three times across his shaven chin, +regarding an apple-tree, nearby, with an expression of the most +profound interest: + +"And how," said he again, "how might Master Georgy be?" + +"Master Georgy is as well as ever," answered Miss Priscilla, stitching +away faster than before, and Bellew thought she kept her rosy cheeks +stooped a little lower over her work. Meanwhile the Sergeant continued +to regard the tree with the same degree of lively interest, and to rasp +his fingers to and fro across his chin. Suddenly, he coughed behind +hand, whereupon Miss Priscilla raised her head, and looked at him. + +"Well?" she enquired, very softly: + +"And pray, mam," said the Sergeant, removing his gaze from the tree with +a jerk, "how might--you be feeling, mam?" + +"Much the same as usual, thank you," she answered, smiling like a girl, +for all her white hair, as the Sergeant's eyes met hers. + +"You look," said he, pausing to cough behind his hand again, "you +look--blooming, mam,--if you'll allow the expression,--blooming,--as you +ever do, mam." + +"I'm an old woman, Sergeant, as well you know!" sighed Miss Priscilla, +shaking her head. + +"Old, mam!" repeated the Sergeant, "old, mam!--nothing of the sort, +mam!--Age has nothing to do with it.--'Tisn't the years as count.--We +aren't any older than we feel,--eh, sir?" + +"Of course not!" answered Bellew. + +"Nor than we look,--eh sir?" + +"Certainly not, Sergeant!" answered Bellew. + +"And she, sir,--she don't look--a day older than--" + +"Thirty five!" said Bellew. + +"Exactly, sir, very true! My own opinion,--thirty five exactly, sir." + +"Sergeant," said Miss Priscilla, bending over her work again, +"Sergeant,--your hat!" The Sergeant, hereupon, removed the distracting +head-gear altogether, and sat with it upon his knee, staring hard at the +tree again. Then, all at once, with a sudden gesture he drew a large, +silver watch from his pocket,--rather as if it were some weapon of +offence,--looked at it, listened to it, and then nodding his head, rose +to his feet. + +"Must be going," he said, standing very straight, and looking down at +little Miss Priscilla, "though sorry, as ever,--must be going, +mam,--Miss Priscilla mam--good day to you!" And he stretched out his +hand to her with a sudden, jerky movement. Miss Priscilla paused in her +sewing, and looked up at him with her youthful smile: + +"Must you go--so soon, Sergeant? Then Good-bye,--until to-morrow," and +she laid her very small hand in his big palm. The Sergeant stared down +at it as though he were greatly minded to raise it to his lips, instead +of doing which, he dropped it, suddenly, and turned to Bellew: + +"Sir, I am--proud to have met you. Sir, there is a poor crippled soldier +as I know,--My cottage is very small, and humble sir, but if you ever +feel like--dropping in on him, sir,--by day or night, he will +be--honoured, sir, honoured! And that's me--Sergeant Richard +Appleby--late of the Nineteenth Hussars--at your service, sir!" saying +which, he put on his hat, stiff-armed, wheeled, and strode away through +the orchard, jingling his imaginary spurs louder than ever. + +"Well?" enquired Miss Priscilla in her quick, bright way, "Well Mr. +Bellew, what do you think of him?--first impressions are always +best,--at least, I think so,--what do you think of Sergeant Appleby?" + +"I think he's a splendid fellow," said Bellew, looking after the +Sergeant's upright figure. + +"A very foolish old fellow, I think, and as stiff as one of the ram-rods +of one of his own guns!" said Miss Priscilla, but her clear, blue eyes +were very soft, and tender as she spoke. + +"And as fine a soldier as a man, I'm sure," said Bellew. + +"Why yes, he _was_ a good soldier, once upon a time, I believe,--he won +the Victoria Cross for doing something or other that was very brave, and +he wears it with all his other medals, pinned on the inside of his coat. +Oh yes, he was a fine soldier, once, but he's a very foolish old +soldier, now,--I think, and as stiff as the ram-rod of one of his own +guns. But I'm glad you like him, Mr. Bellew, and he will be proud, and +happy for you to call and see him at his cottage. And now, I suppose, it +is half past eleven, isn't it?" + +"Yes, just half past!" nodded Bellew, glancing at his watch. + +"Exact to time, as usual!" said Miss Priscilla, "I don't think the +Sergeant has missed a minute, or varied a minute in the last five +years,--you see, he is such a very methodical man, Mr. Bellew!" + +"Why then, does he come every day, at the same hour?" + +"Every day!" nodded Miss Priscilla, "it has become a matter of habit +with him." + +"Ah?" said Bellew, smiling. + +"If you were to ask me why he comes, I should answer that I fancy it is +to--look at the peaches. Dear me, Mr. Bellew! what a very foolish old +soldier he is, to be sure!" Saying which, pretty, bright-eyed Miss +Priscilla, laughed again, folded up her work, settled it in the basket +with a deft little pat, and, rising, took a small, crutch stick from +where it had lain concealed, and then, Bellew saw that she was lame. + +"Oh yes,--I'm a cripple, you see," she nodded,--"Oh very, very lame! my +ankle, you know. That is why I came here, the big world didn't want a +poor, lame, old woman,--that is why Miss Anthea made me her Aunt, God +bless her! No thank you,--I can carry my basket. So you see,--he--has +lost an arm,--his right one, and I--am lame in my foot. Perhaps that is +why--Heigho! how beautifully the black birds are singing this morning, +to be sure!" + + + +CHAPTER IX + +_In which may be found some description of Arcadia, and gooseberries_ + +Anthea, leaning on her rake in a shady corner of the five-acre field, +turned to watch Bellew who, stripped to his shirt-sleeves, bare of neck, +and arm, and pitch-fork in hand, was busy tossing up great mounds of +sweet-smelling hay to Adam who stood upon a waggon to receive it, with +Small Porges perched up beside him. + +A week had elapsed since Bellew had found his way to Dapplemere, a week +which had only served to strengthen the bonds of affection between him +and his "nephew," and to win over sharp-eyed, shrewd little Miss +Priscilla to the extent of declaring him to be: "First a gentleman, +Anthea, my dear, and Secondly,--what is much rarer, now-a-days,--a true +man!" A week! and already he was hail-fellow-well-met with everyone +about the place, for who was proof against his unaffected gaiety, his +simple, easy, good-fellowship? So he laughed, and joked as he swung his +pitch-fork, (awkwardly enough, to be sure), and received all hints, and +directions as to its use, in the kindly spirit they were tendered. And +Anthea, watching him from her shady corner, sighed once or twice, and +catching herself, so doing, stamped her foot at herself, and pulled her +sunbonnet closer about her face. + +"No, Adam," he was saying, "depend upon it, there is nothing like +exercise, and, of all exercise,--give me a pitch-fork." + +"Why, as to that, Mr. Belloo, sir," Adam retorted, "I say--so be it, so +long as I ain't near the wrong end of it, for the way you do 'ave of +flourishin' an' a whirlin' that theer fork, is fair as-tonishin', I do +declare it be." + +"Why you see, Adam, there are some born with a leaning towards +pitch-forks, as there are others born to the pen, and the--er--palette, +and things, but for me, Adam, the pitch-fork, every time!" said Bellew, +mopping his brow. + +"If you was to try an' 'andle it more as if it _was_ a pitchfork now, +Mr. Belloo, sir--" suggested Adam, and, not waiting for Bellew's +laughing rejoinder, he chirrupped to the horses, and the great waggon +creaked away with its mountainous load, surmounted by Adam's grinning +visage, and Small Porges' golden curls, and followed by the rest of the +merry-voiced hay-makers. + +Now it was, that turning his head, Bellew espied Anthea watching him, +whereupon he shouldered his fork, and coming to where she sat upon a +throne of hay, he sank down at her feet with a luxurious sigh. She had +never seen him without a collar, before, and now she could not but +notice how round, and white, and powerful his neck was, and how the +muscles bulged upon arm, and shoulder, and how his hair curled in small, +damp rings upon his brow. + +"It is good," said he, looking up into the witching face, above him, +"yes, it is very good to see you idle--just for once." + +"And I was thinking it was good to see you work,--just for once." + +"Work!" he exclaimed, "my dear Miss Anthea, I assure you I have become a +positive glutton for work. It has become my earnest desire to plant +things, and grow things, and chop things with axes; to mow things with +scythes. I dream of pastures, and ploughs, of pails and pitchforks, by +night; and, by day, reaping-hooks, hoes, and rakes, are in my thoughts +continually,--which all goes to show the effect of this wonderful air of +Arcadia. Indeed, I am as full of suppressed energy, these days, as Adam +is of the 'Old Adam.' And, talking of Adam reminds me that he has +solemnly pledged himself to initiate me into the mysteries of swinging a +scythe to-morrow morning at--five o'clock! Yes indeed, my heart bounds +responsive to the swish of a scythe in thick grass, and my soul sits +enraptured upon a pitch-fork." + +"How ridiculous you are!" she laughed. + +"And how perfectly content!" he added. + +"Is anyone ever quite content?" she sighed, glancing down at him, +wistful-eyed. + +"Not unless they have found Arcadia," he answered. + +"Have you then?" + +"Yes," he nodded complacently, "oh yes, I've found it." + +"Are you--sure?" + +"Quite sure!" + +"Arcadia!" she repeated, wrinkling her brows, "what is Arcadia +and--where?" + +"Arcadia," answered Bellew, watching the smoke rise up from his pipe, +with a dreamy eye, "Arcadia is the--Promised Land,--the Land that +everyone tries to find, sometime or other, and may be--anywhere." + +"And how came you to--find it?" + +"By the most fortunate chance in the world." + +"Tell me," said Anthea, taking a wisp of hay, and beginning to plait it +in dexterous, brown fingers, "tell me how you found it." + +"Why then you must know, in the first place," he began in his slow, even +voice, "that it is a place I have sought for in all my wanderings, and I +have been pretty far afield,--but I sought it so long, and so vainly, +that I began to think it was like the El Dorado of the old Adventurers, +and had never existed at all." + +"Yes?" said Anthea, busy with her plaiting. + +"But, one day,--Fate, or Chance, or Destiny,--or their benevolent +spirit, sent a certain square-shouldered Waggoner to show me the way, +and, after him, a very small Porges,--bless him!--to lead me into this +wonderful Arcadia." + +"Oh, I see!" nodded Anthea, very intent upon her plaiting. + +"But there is something more," said Bellew. + +"Oh?" said Anthea. + +"Shall I tell you?" + +"If--it is--very interesting." + +"Well then, in this delightful land there is a castle, grim, embattled, +and very strong." + +"A castle?" said Anthea, glancing up suddenly. + +"The Castle of Heart's Desire." + +"Oh!" said she, and gave all her attention to her plaiting again. + +"And so," continued Bellew, "I am waiting, very patiently, until, in her +own good time, she who rules within, shall open the gate to me, or--bid +me go away." + +Into Bellew's voice had crept a thrill no one had ever heard there +before; he leaned nearer to her, and his dreamy eyes were keen now, and +eager. And she, though she saw nothing of all this, yet, being a woman, +knew it was there, of course, and, for that very reason, looked +resolutely away. Wherefore, once again, Bellew heartily wished that +sunbonnets had never been invented. + +So there was silence while Anthea stared away across the golden +corn-fields, yet saw nothing of them, and Bellew looked upon those +slender, capable fingers, that had faltered in their plaiting and +stopped. And thus, upon the silence there broke a sudden voice shrill +with interest: + +"Go on, Uncle Porges,--what about the dragons? Oh, please go +on!--there's always dragons in 'chanted castles, you know, to guard the +lovely Princess,--aren't you going to have any dragons that hiss, you +know, an' spit out smoke, an' flames? Oh!--do please have a dragon." And +Small Porges appeared from the other side of the hay-mow, flushed, +and eager. + +"Certainly, my Porges," nodded Bellew, drawing the small figure down +beside him, "I was forgetting the dragons, but there they are, with +scaly backs, and iron claws, spitting out sparks and flames, just as +self-respecting dragons should, and roaring away like thunder." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Small Porges, nestling closer to Bellew, and reaching +out a hand to Auntie Anthea, "that's fine! let's have plenty +of dragons." + +"Do you think a--er--dozen would be enough, my Porges?" + +"Oh yes! But s'pose the beautiful Princess didn't open the door,--what +would you do if you were really a wandering knight who was waiting +patiently for it to open,--what would you do then?" + +"Shin up a tree, my Porges." + +"Oh but that wouldn't be a bit right--would it, Auntie?" + +"Of course not!" laughed Anthea, "it would be most un-knight-like, and +very undignified." + +"'Sides," added Small Porges, "you couldn't climb up a tree in your +armour, you know." + +"Then I'd make an awful' good try at it!" nodded Bellew. + +"No," said Small Porges, shaking his head, "shall I tell you what you +ought to do? Well then, you'd draw your two-edged sword, an' dress your +shield,--like Gareth, the Kitchen Knave did,--he was always dressing his +shield, an' so was Lancelot,--an' you'd fight all those dragons, an' +kill them, an' cut their heads off." + +"And then what would happen?" enquired Bellew. + +"Why then the lovely Princess would open the gate, an' marry you of +course, an' live happy ever after, an' all would be revelry an' joy." + +"Ah!" sighed Bellew, "if she'd do that, I think I'd fight all the +dragons that ever roared,--and kill them too. But supposing +she--er--wouldn't open the gate." + +"Why then," said Small Porges, wrinkling his brow, "why then--you'd have +to storm the castle, of course, an' break open the gate an' run off with +the Princess on your charger,--if she was very beautiful, you know." + +"A most excellent idea, my Porges! If I should happen to find myself in +like circumstances, I'll surely take your advice." + +Now, as he spoke, Bellew glanced at Anthea, and she at him. And +straightway she blushed, and then she laughed, and then she blushed +again, and, still blushing, rose to her feet, and turned to find Mr. +Cassilis within a yard of them. + +"Ah, Miss Anthea," said he, lifting his hat, "I sent Georgy to find you, +but it seems he forgot to mention that I was waiting." + +"I'm awful' sorry, Mr. Cassilis,--but Uncle Porges was telling us 'bout +dragons, you know," Small Porges hastened to explain. + +"Dragons!" repeated Mr. Cassilis, with his supercilious smile, "ah, +indeed! dragons should be interesting, especially in such a very quiet, +shady nook as this,--quite an idyllic place for story-telling, it's a +positive shame to disturb you," and his sharp, white teeth gleamed +beneath his moustache, as he spoke, and he tapped his riding-boot +lightly with his hunting-crop as he fronted Bellew, who had risen, and +stood bare-armed, leaning upon his pitch-fork. And, as in their first +meeting, there was a mute antagonism in their look. + +"Let me introduce you to each other," said Anthea, conscious of this +attitude,--"Mr. Cassilis, of Brampton Court,--Mr. Bellew!" + +"Of nowhere in particular, sir!" added Bellew. + +"And pray," said Mr. Cassilis perfunctorily as they strolled on across +the meadow, "how do you like Dapplemere, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Immensely, sir,--beyond all expression!" + +"Yes, it is considered rather pretty, I believe." + +"Lovely, sir!" nodded Bellew, "though it is not so much the beauty of +the place itself, that appeals to me so much as what it--contains." + +"Oh, indeed!" said Mr. Cassilis, with a sudden, sharp glance, "to what +do you refer?" + +"Goose-berries, sir!" + +"I--ah--beg your pardon?" + +"Sir," said Bellew gravely, "all my life I have fostered a secret +passion for goose-berries--raw, or cooked,--in pie, pudding or jam, they +are equally alluring. Unhappily the American goose-berry is but a hollow +mockery, at best--" + +"Ha?" said Mr. Cassilis, dubiously. + +"Now, in goose-berries, as in everything else, sir, there is to be found +the superlative, the quintessence,--the ideal. Consequently I have +roamed East and West, and North and South, in quest of it." + +"Really?" said Mr. Cassilis, stifling a yawn, and turning towards Miss +Anthea with the very slightest shrug of his shoulders. + +"And, in Dapplemere," concluded Bellew, solemnly, "I have, at last, +found my ideal--" + +"Goose-berry!" added Anthea with a laugh in her eyes. + +"Arcadia being a land of ideals!" nodded Bellew. + +"Ideals," said Mr. Cassilis, caressing his moustache, "ideals +and--ah--goose-berries,--though probably excellent things in themselves, +are apt to pall upon one, in time; personally, I find them equally +insipid,--" + +"Of course it is all a matter of taste!" sighed Bellew. + +"But," Mr. Cassilis went on, fairly turning his back upon him, "the +subject I wished to discuss with you, Miss Anthea, was the--er +--approaching sale." + +"The sale!" she repeated, all the brightness dying out of her face. + +"I wished," said Cassilis, leaning nearer to her, and lowering his voice +confidentially, "to try to convince you how--unnecessary it would +be--if--" and he paused, significantly. + +Anthea turned quickly aside, as though to hide her mortification from +Bellew's keen eyes; whereupon he, seeing it all, became, straightway, +more dreamy than ever, and, laying a hand upon Small Porges' shoulder, +pointed with his pitch-fork to where at the other end of the "Five-acre" +the hay-makers worked away as merrily as ever: + +"Come, my Porges," said he, "let us away and join yon happy throng, +and--er-- + + 'With Daphnis, and Clo, and Blowsabel + We'll list to the--er--cuckoo in the dell.'" + +So, hand in hand, the two Porges set off together. But when they had +gone some distance, Bellew looked back, and then he saw that Anthea +walked with her head averted, yet Cassilis walked close beside her, and +stooped, now and then, until the black moustache came very near the +curl--that curl of wanton witchery that peeped above her ear. + +"Uncle Porges--why do you frown so?" + +"Frown, my Porges,--did I? Well, I was thinking." + +"Well, I'm thinking too, only I don't frown, you know, but I'm thinking +just the same." + +"And what might you be thinking, nephew?" + +"Why I was thinking that although you're so awful fond of goose-berries, +an' though there's lots of ripe ones on the bushes I've never seen you +eat a single one." + + + +CHAPTER X + +_How Bellew and Adam entered into a solemn league and covenant_ + +"Look at the moon to-night, Uncle Porges!" + +"I see it." + +"It's awfull' big, an' round, isn't it?" + +"Yes, it's very big, and very round." + +"An'--rather--yellow, isn't it?" + +"Very yellow!" + +"Just like a great, big golden sovereign, isn't it" + +"Very much like a sovereign, my Porges." + +"Well, do you know, I was wondering--if there was any chance that it was +a--Money Moon?" + +They were leaning out at the lattice, Small Porges, and Big Porges. +Anthea and Miss Priscilla were busied upon household matters wholly +feminine, wherefore Small Porges had drawn Bellew to the window, and +there they leaned, the small body enfolded by Bellew's long arm, and the +two faces turned up to the silvery splendour of the moon. + +But now, Anthea came up behind them, and, not noticing the position of +Bellew's arm as she leaned on the other side of Small Porges, it befell +that her hand touched, and for a moment, rested upon Bellew's hand, +hidden as it was in the shadow. And this probably began it. + +The air of Arcadia, as has been said before, is an intoxicating air; but +it is more, it is an air charged with a subtle magic whereby the +commonest objects, losing their prosaic, matter-of-fact shapes, become +transfigured into things of wonder, and delight. Little things that pass +as mere ordinary common-places,--things insignificant, and wholly +beneath notice in the every day world, become fraught with such infinite +meaning, and may hold such sublime, such undreamed of possibilities +--here in Arcadia. Thus, when it is recorded that Anthea's hand +accidentally touched, and rested upon Bellew's--the significance of it +will become at once apparent. + +"And pray," said Anthea, laying that same hand in the most natural +manner in the world, upon the Small Porges' curls, "Pray what might you +two be discussing so very solemnly?" + +"The moon," answered Small Porges. "I was wondering if it was a Money +Moon, an' Uncle Porges hasn't said if it is, yet." + +"Why no, old chap," answered Bellew, "I'm afraid not." + +"And pray," said Anthea again, "what might a Money Moon be?" + +"Well," explained Small Porges, "when the moon's just--just so, then you +go out an'--an' find a fortune, you know. But the moon's got to be a +Money Moon, and you've got to know, you know, else you'll find nothing, +of course." + +"Ah Georgy dear!" sighed Anthea, stooping her dark head down to his +golden curls, "don't you know that fortunes are very hard to get, and +that they have to be worked for, and that no one ever found one without +a great deal of labour, and sorrow?" + +"'Course--everyone can't find fortunes, Auntie Anthea, I know that, but +we shall,--my Uncle Porges knows all about it, you see, an' I know that +we shall. I'm sure as sure we shall find one, some day, 'cause, you see, +I put it in my prayers now,--at the end, you know. I say: 'An' please +help me an' my Uncle Porges to find a fortune when the Money Moon +comes,--a big one, world without end--Amen!' So you see, it's all right, +an' we're just waiting till the Money Moon comes, aren't we, +Uncle Porges?" + +"Yes, old chap, yes," nodded Bellew, "until the Money Moon comes." + +And so there fell a silence between them, yet a silence that held a +wondrous charm of its own; a silence that lasted so long that the +coppery curls drooped lower, and lower upon Bellew's arm, until Anthea, +sighing, rose, and in a very tender voice bade Small Porges say +'Goodnight!' the which he did, forthwith, slumberous of voice, and +sleepy eyed, and so, with his hand in Anthea's, went drowsily up to bed. + +Wherefore, seeing that Miss Priscilla had bustled away into the kitchen, +Bellew sauntered out into the rose-garden to look upon the beauty of the +night. The warm air was fragrant with dewy scents, and the moon, already +high above the tree-tops, poured down her gentle radiance upon the +quaint, old garden with its winding walks, and clipped yew hedges, while +upon the quiet, from the dim shadow of the distant woods, stole the +soft, sweet song of a nightingale. + +Bellew walked a path bordered with flowers, and checkered with silver +patches of moon-light, drinking in the thousand beauties about him, +staring up at the glory of the moon, the indigo of the sky, and +listening to the voice of the lonely singer in the wood. And yet it was +of none of these he was thinking as he paused under the shadow of "King +Arthur,"--nor of Small Porges, nor of any one or anything in this world +but only of the sudden, light touch of a warm, soft hand upon his. "Be +that you, sir?" Bellew started and now he found that he had been +sitting, all this while, with an empty pipe between his teeth, yet +content therewith; wherefore he shook his head, and wondered. + +"Be that you, Mr. Beloo, sir?" + +"Yes Adam, it is I." + +"Ah! an' how might you be feelin' now--arter your exercise wi' the +pitch-fork, sir?" + +"Very fit, I thank you, Adam. Sit down, and smoke, and let us converse +together." + +"Why thankee sir," answered Adam, producing the small, black clay pipe +from his waistcoat pocket, and accepting Bellew's proffered pouch. "I've +been up to the 'ouse a visitin' Prudence, the cook,--an' a rare cook she +be, too, Mr. Beloo sir!" + +"And a rare buxom girl into the bargain, Adam!" + +"Oh, ah!--she's well enough, sir; I won't go for to deny as she's a +fine, up-standing, well-shaped, tall, an' proper figure of a woman as +ever was, sir,--though the Kentish lasses be a tidy lot, Mr. Beloo sir. +But, Lord! when you come to think of her gift for Yorkshire Puddin', +likewise jam-rollers, and seed-cake,--(which, though mentioned last, +ain't by no manner o' means least),--when you come to think of her brew +o' ale, an' cider, an' ginger wine,--why then--I'm took, sir, I'm took +altogether, an' the 'Old Adam' inside o' me works hisself into such a +state that if another chap--'specially that there Job Jagway gets +lookin' her way too often, why it's got to get took out o' him, or took +out o' me in good 'ard knocks, Mr. Belloo, sir." + +"And when are you going to get married, Adam?" + +"Well sir, we was thinkin' that if Miss Anthea has a good season, this +year, we'd get it over an' done wi' some time in October, sir,--but it's +all accordin'." + +"According to what?" + +"To the 'ops, sir,--the H-O-P-S--'ops, sir. They're comin' on fine,--ah! +scrumptuous they be! If they don't take the blight, sir, they'll be the +finest 'ops this side o' Maidstone. But then, if they do take the +blight,--why then my 'opes is blighted likewise sir,--B-L-I-T-E-D, +--blighted, Mr. Belloo sir!" which said, Adam laughed once, nodded his +head several times, and relapsed into puffing silence. + +"Mr. Cassilis was over to-day, Adam," said Bellew, after a while +pursuing a train of thought. + +"Ah sir!--I seen him,--'e also seen me. 'E told me as Job Jagway was up +and about again,--likewise Job Jagway will be over 'ere to-morrow, along +wi' the rest of 'em for the sale, sir." + +"Ah yes,--the sale!" said Bellew, thoughtfully. + +"To think o' that there Job Jagway a coming over here to buy Miss +Anthea's furnitur' do set the Old Adam a workin' inside o' me to that +amazin' extent as I can't sit still, Mr. Belloo sir! If that there Job +crosses my path to-morrer--well--let 'im--look out, that's all!" saying +which, Adam doubled up a huge, knotted fist and shook it at an +imaginary Job. + +"Adam," said Bellew, in the same thoughtful tone, "I wonder if you would +do something for me?" + +"Anything you ax me, sir, so long as you don't want me to--" + +"I want you to buy some of that furniture for me." + +"What!" exclaimed Adam, and vented his great laugh again, "well, if that +ain't a good 'un, sir! why that's just w'ot I'm a going to do! Ye see, I +ain't w'ot you might call a rich cove, nor yet a millionaire, but I've +got a bit put by, an' I drawed out ten pound, yesterday. Thinks +I,--'here's to save Miss Anthea's old sideboard, or the mirror as she's +so fond of, or if not--why then a cheer or so,--they ain't a going to +get it all,--not while I've got a pound or two,' I sez to myself." + +"Adam," said Bellew, turning suddenly, "that sentiment does you credit, +that sentiment makes me proud to have knocked you into a ditch,--shake +hands, Adam." And there, beneath the great apple tree, while the moon +looked on, they very solemnly shook hands. + +"And now, Adam," pursued Bellew, "I want you to put back your ten +pounds, keep it for Prudence,--because I happen to have rather more than +we shall want,--see here!" And, with the words, Bellew took out a +leathern wallet, and from this wallet, money, and bank-notes,--more +money, and more bank-notes than Adam had ever beheld in all his thirty +odd years, at sight of which his eyes opened, and his square jaw +relaxed, to the imminent danger of his cherished clay pipe. + +"I want you to take this," Bellew went on, counting a sum into Adam's +nerveless hand, "and to-morrow, when the sale begins, if any one makes a +bid for anything, I want you to bid higher, and, no matter what, you +must always buy--always, you understand?" + +"But sir,--that there old drorin'-room cab'net wi' the--carvings--" + +"Buy it!" + +"An' the silver candle-sticks,--and the four-post bed-stead,--an' the--" + +"Buy 'em, Adam,--buy everything! If we haven't enough money there's +plenty more where this came from,--only buy!--You understand?" + +"Oh yes sir, I understand! 'Ow much 'ave you give me? Why, +here's--forty-five,--fifty,--sixty,--Lord!--" + +"Put it away, Adam,--forget all about it till to-morrow,--and not a +word, mind!" + +"A hundred pound!" gasped Adam, "Lord!--Oh I won't speak of it, trust +me, Mr. Belloo, sir! But to think of me a walking about wi' a hundred +pound in my pocket,--Lord! I won't say nothing--but to think of Old Adam +wi' a hundred pound in his pocket, e'Cod! it do seem that comical!" +saying which, Adam buttoned the money into a capacious pocket, slapped +it, nodded, and rose. "Well sir, I'll be going,--there be Miss Anthea in +the garden yonder, and if she was to see me now there's no sayin' but I +should be took a laughin' to think o' this 'ere hundred pound." + +"Miss Anthea!--where?" + +"Comin' through the rose-gardin. She be off to see old Mother Dibbin. +They call Mother Dibbin a witch, an' now as she's down wi' the +rheumatics there ain't nobody to look arter 'er,--'cept Miss +Anthea,--she'd ha' starved afore now if it 'adn't been for Miss Anthea, +but Lord love your eyes, an' limbs, Mr. Belloo sir! Miss Anthea don't +care if she's a witch, or fifty witches, not she! So good-night, Mr. +Belloo sir, an' mum's the word!" + +Saying which, Adam slapped his pocket again, nodded, winked, and went +upon his way. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +_Of the "Man with the Tiger Mark"_ + +It is a moot question as to whether a curl can be more alluring when it +glows beneath the fiery kisses of the sun, or shines demurely in the +tender radiance of the moon. As Bellew looked at it now,--that same +small curl that nodded and beckoned to him above Anthea's left ear,--he +strongly inclined to the latter opinion. + +"Adam tells me that you are going out, Miss Anthea." + +"Only as far as Mrs. Dibbin's cottage,--just across the meadow." + +"Adam also informs me that Mrs. Dibbin is a witch." + +"People call her so." + +"Never in all my days have I seen a genuine, old witch,--so I'll come +with you, if I may?" + +"Oh, this is a very gentle old witch, and she is neither humpbacked, nor +does she ride a broom-stick,--so I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, +Mr. Bellew." + +"Then, at least, I can carry your basket,--allow me!" And so, in his +quiet, masterful fashion he took the basket from her arm, and walked on +beside her, through the orchard. + +"What a glorious night it is!" exclaimed Anthea suddenly, drawing a deep +breath of the fragrant air,--"Oh! it is good to be alive! In spite of +all the cares, and worries, life is very sweet!" + +After this, they walked on some distance in silence, she gazing +wistfully upon the beauties of the familiar world about her while he +watched the curl above her ear until she, becoming aware of it all at +once, promptly sent it back into retirement, with a quick, deft little +pat of her fingers. + +"I hope," said Bellew at last, "I do sincerely hope that you 'tucked up' +my nephew safe in bed,--you see--" + +"Your nephew, indeed!" + +"Our nephew, then; I ask because he tells me that he can't possibly +sleep unless you go to 'tuck him up,'--and I can quite believe it." + +"Do you know, Mr. Bellew, I'm growing quite jealous of you, he can't +move a step without you, and he is for ever talking, and lauding your +numberless virtues!" + +"But then--I'm only an uncle, after all, and if he talks of me to you, +he talks of you to me, all day long." + +"Oh, does he!" + +"And, among other things, he told me that I ought to see you when your +hair is down, and all about you." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Anthea. + +"Indeed, our nephew is much luckier than I, because I never had an aunt +of my own to come and 'tuck me up' at night with her hair hanging all +about her--like a beautiful cloak. So, you see, I have no boyish +recollections to go upon, but I think I can imagine--" + +"And what do you think of the Sergeant?" Anthea enquired, changing the +subject abruptly. + +"I like him so much that I am going to take him at his word, and call +upon him at the first opportunity." + +"Did Aunt Priscilla tell you that he comes marching along regularly +every day, at exactly the same hour?" + +"Yes,--to see how the peaches are getting on!" nodded Bellew. + +"For such a very brave soldier he is a dreadful coward," said Anthea, +smiling, "it has taken him five years to screw up courage enough to tell +her that she's uncommonly young for her age. And yet, I think it is just +that diffidence that makes him so lovable. And he is so simple, and so +gentle--in spite of all his war medals. When I am moody, and cross, the +very sight of him is enough to put me in humour again." + +"Has he never--spoken to Miss Priscilla,--?" + +"Never,--though, of course, she knows, and has done from the very first. +I asked him once, why he had never told her what it was brought him so +regularly,--to look at the peaches,--and he said, in his quick, sharp +way: 'Miss Anthea,--can't be done, mam,--a poor, battered, old +soldier,--only one arm,--no mam.'" + +"I wonder if one could find just such another Sergeant outside Arcadia," +said Bellew, "I wonder!" + +Now they were approaching a stile towards which Bellew had directed his +eyes, from time to time, as, for that matter, curiously enough, had +Anthea; but to him it seemed that it never would be reached, while to +her, it seemed that it would be reached much too soon. Therefore she +began to rack her mind trying to remember some gate, or any gap in the +hedge that should obviate the necessity of climbing it. But, before she +could recall any such gate, or gap, they were at the stile, and Bellew, +leaping over, had set down the basket, and stretched out his hand to aid +her over. But Anthea, tall, and lithe, active and vigorous with her +outdoor life, and used to such things from her infancy, stood a moment +hesitating. To be sure, the stile was rather high, yet she could have +vaulted it nearly, if not quite, as easily as Bellew himself, had she +been alone. But then, she was not alone, moreover, be it remembered, +this was in Arcadia of a mid-summer night. Thus, she hesitated, only a +moment, it is true, for, seeing the quizzical look in his eyes that +always made her vaguely rebellious,--with a quick, light movement, she +mounted the stile, and there paused to shake her head in laughing +disdain of his out-stretched hand; then--there was the sound of rending +cambric, she tripped, and, next moment, he had caught her in his arms. +It was for but a very brief instant that she lay, soft and yielding, in +his embrace, yet she was conscious of how strong were the arms that held +her so easily, ere they set her down. + +"I beg your pardon!--how awkward I am!" she exclaimed, in hot +mortification. + +"No," said Bellew, shaking his head, "it was a nail, you know, a bent, +and rusty nail,--here, under the top bar. Is your dress much torn?" + +"Oh, that is nothing, thank you!" + +So they went on again, but now they were silent once more, and very +naturally, for Anthea was mightily angry,--with herself, the stile, +Bellew, and everything concerned; while he was thinking of the sudden, +warm clasp of her arms, of the alluring fragrance of her hair, and of +the shy droop of her lashes as she lay in his embrace. Therefore, as he +walked on beside her, saying nothing, within his secret soul he poured +benedictions upon the head of that bent, and rusty nail. + +And presently, having turned down a grassy lane and crossed a small but +very noisy brook that chattered impertinences among the stones and +chuckled at them slyly from the shadows, they eventually came upon a +small, and very lonely little cottage bowered in roses and +honeysuckle,--as are all the cottages hereabouts. But now Anthea paused, +looking at Bellew with a dubious brow. + +"I ought to warn you that Mrs. Dibbin is very old, and sometimes a +little queer, and sometimes says very--surprising things." + +"Excellent!" nodded Bellew, holding the little gate open for her, "very +right and proper conduct in a witch, and I love surprises above +all things." + +But Anthea still hesitated, while Bellew stood with his hand upon the +gate, waiting for her to enter. Now he had left his hat behind him, and, +as the moon shone down on his bare head, she could not but notice how +bright, and yellow was his hair, despite the thick, black brows below. + +"I think I--would rather you waited outside,--if you don't mind, Mr. +Bellew." + +"You mean that I am to be denied the joy of conversing with a real, +live, old witch, and having my fortune told?" he sighed. "Well, if such +is your will--so be it," said he obediently, and handed her the basket. + +"I won't keep you waiting very long,--and--thank you!" she smiled, and, +hurrying up the narrow path, she tapped at the cottage door. + +"Come in! come in!" cried an old, quavering voice, albeit, very sharp, +and piercing. "That be my own soft dove of a maid,--my proud, beautiful, +white lady! Come in! come in!--and bring him wi' you,--him as is so big, +and strong,--him as I've expected so long,--the tall, golden man from +over seas. Bid him come in, Miss Anthea, that Goody Dibbin's old eyes +may look at him at last." + +Hereupon, at a sign from Anthea, Bellew turned in at the gate, and +striding up the path, entered the cottage. + +Despite the season, a fire burned upon the hearth, and crouched over +this, in a great elbow-chair, sat a very bent, and aged woman. Her face +was furrowed, and seamed with numberless lines and wrinkles, but her +eyes were still bright, and she wore no spectacles; likewise her white +hair was wonderfully thick, and abundant, as could plainly be seen +beneath the frill of her cap, for, like the very small room of this very +small cottage, she was extremely neat, and tidy. She had a great, +curving nose, and a great, curving chin, and what with this and her +bright, black eyes, and stooping figure, she was very much like what a +witch should be,--albeit a very superior kind of old witch. + +She sat, for a while, staring up at Bellew who stood tall, and +bare-headed, smiling down at her; and then, all at once, she nodded her +head three several, and distinct times. + +"Right!" she quavered, "right! right,--it be all right!--the golden man +as I've watched this many an' many a day, wi' the curly hair, and the +sleepy eye, and the Tiger-mark upon his arm,--right! right!" + +"What do you mean by 'Tiger-mark?'" enquired Bellew. + +"I mean, young master wi' your golden curls,--I mean as, sitting here +day in, and day out, staring down into my fire, I has my +dreams,--leastways, I calls 'em my dreams, though there's them as calls +it the 'second sight.' But pray sit down, tall sir, on the stool there; +and you, my tender maid, my dark lady, come you here--upon my right, +and, if you wish, I'll look into the ink, or read your pretty hand, or +tell you what I see down there in the fire. But no,--first, show what +you have brought for Old Nannie in the blessed basket,--the fine, strong +basket as holds so much. Yes, set it down here--where I can open it +myself, tall sir. Eh,--what's this?--Tea! God bless you for the tea, my +dear! And eggs, and butter,--and a cold chicken!--the Lord bless your +kind heart, Miss Anthea! Ah, my proud lady, happy the man who shall win +ye! Happy the man who shall wed ye, my dark, beautiful maid. And strong +must he be, aye, and masterful he who shall wake the love-light in those +dark, great, passionate eyes of yours. And there is no man in all this +world can do it but he must be a golden man--wi' the Tiger-mark +upon him." + +"Why--oh Nannie--!" + +"Aye,--blush if ye will, my dark lady, but Mother Dibbin knows she's +seen it in the fire, dreamed it in her dreams, and read it in the ink. +The path lies very dark afore ye, my lady,--aye very dark it be, and +full o' cares, and troubles, but there's the sun shining +beyond,--bright, and golden. You be proud, and high, and scornful, my +lady,--'tis in your blood,--you'll need a strong hand to guide ye,--and +the strong hand shall come. By force you shall be wooed, and by force +you shall be wed,--and there be no man strong enough to woo, and wed ye, +but him as I've told ye of--him as bears the Tiger-mark." + +"But Nannie," said Anthea again, gently interrupting her, and patting +the old woman's shrivelled hand, "you're forgetting the basket,--you +haven't found all we've brought you, yet." + +"Aye, aye!" nodded old Nannie, "the fine, strong basket,--let's see what +more be in the good, kind basket. Here's bread, and sugar,--and--" + +"A pound of your favourite tobacco!" said Anthea, with a smiling nod. + +"Oh the good weed! The blessed weed!" cried the old woman, clutching the +package with trembling fingers. "Ah! who can tell the comfort it has +been to me in the long, long days, and the long, long nights,--the +blessed weed! when I've sat here a looking and a looking into the fire. +God bless you, my sweet maid, for your kindly thought!" and, with a +sudden gesture, she caught Anthea's hand to her lips, and then, just as +suddenly turned upon Bellew. + +"And now, tall sir, can I do ought for ye? Shall I look into the fire +for ye, or the ink, or read your hand?" + +"Why yes," answered Bellew, stretching out his hand to her, "you shall +tell me two things, if you will; first, shall one ever find his way into +the 'Castle of Heart's Desire,' and secondly;--When?" + +"Oh, but I don't need to look into your hand to tell you that, tall sir, +nor yet in the ink, or in the fire, for I've dreamed it all in my +dreams. And now, see you, 'tis a strong place, this Castle,--wi' thick +doors, and great locks, and bars. But I have seen those doors broke' +down,--those great locks, and bars burst asunder,--but--there is none +can do this but him as bears the Tiger-Mark. So much for the first. And, +for the second,--Happiness shall come a riding to you on the full +moon,--but you must reach up--and take it for yourself,--if you be +tall enough." + +"And--even you are not tall enough to do that, Mr. Bellew!" laughed +Anthea, as she rose to bid Old Nannie "Good-night," while Bellew, +unnoticed, slipped certain coins upon a corner of the chimney-piece. So, +old Nannie blessed them, and theirs,--past, present, and future, +thoroughly and completely, with a fine comprehensiveness that only a +genuinely accomplished old witch might hope to attain to, and, following +them to the door, paused there with one shrivelled, claw-like hand +up-lifted towards the sky: + +"At the full o' the moon, tall sir!" she repeated, "at the full o' the +moon! As for you, my dark-eyed lady, I say, by force you shall be wooed, +and by force ye shall be wed, aye! aye!--but there is no man strong +enough except he have the Tiger-Mark upon him. Old Nannie knows,--she's +seen it in the ink, dreamed it in the fire, and read it all in your +pretty hand. And now--thank ye for the tea, my pretty, and God bless ye +for the good weed, and just so sure as you've been good, and kind to old +Nannie, so shall Fortune be good and kind to you, Miss Anthea." + +"Poor old Nannie!" said Anthea, as they went on down the grassy lane, +"she is so very grateful for so little. And she is such a gentle old +creature really, though the country folk do call her a witch and are +afraid of her because they say she has the 'evil eye,'--which is +ridiculous, of course! But nobody ever goes near her, and she is +dreadfully lonely, poor old thing!" + +"And so that is why you come to sit with her, and let her talk to you?" +enquired Bellew, staring up at the moon. + +"Yes." + +"And do you believe in her dreams, and visions?" + +"No,--of course not!" answered Anthea, rather hurriedly, and with a +deeper colour in her cheeks, though Bellew was still intent upon the +moon. "You don't either,--do you?" she enquired, seeing he was silent. + +"Well, I don't quite know," he answered slowly, "but she is rather a +wonderful old lady, I think." + +"Yes, she has wonderful thick hair still," nodded Anthea, "and she's not +a bit deaf, and her eyes are as clear, and sharp as ever they were." + +"Yes, but I wasn't meaning her eyes, or her hair, or her hearing." + +"Oh,--then pray what were you pleased to mean?" + +"Did you happen to notice what she said about a--er--Man with, +a--Tiger-Mark?" enquired Bellew, still gazing up at the moon. + +Anthea laughed: + +"The Man with the Tiger-Mark,--of course! he has been much in her +dreams, lately, and she has talked of him a great deal,--" + +"Has she?" said Bellew, "ha!" + +"Yes,--her mind is full of strange twists, and fancies,--you see she is +so very old,--and she loves to tell me her dreams, and read the +future for me." + +"Though, of course, you don't believe it," said Bellew. + +"Believe it!" Anthea repeated, and walked some dozen paces, or so, +before she answered,--"no, of course not." + +"Then--none of your fortune,--nothing she told you has ever come true?" + +Once more Anthea hesitated, this time so long that Bellew turned from +his moon-gazing to look at her. + +"I mean," he went on, "has none of it ever come true,--about this Man +with the Tiger-Mark, for instance?" + +"No,--oh no!" answered Anthea, rather hastily, and laughed again. "Old +Nannie has seen him in her dreams--everywhere,--in India, and Africa, +and China; in hot countries, and cold countries--oh! Nannie has seen him +everywhere, but I have seen him--nowhere, and, of course, I +never shall." + +"Ah!" said Bellew, "and she reads him always in your fortune, does she?" + +"And I listen very patiently," Anthea nodded, "because it pleases her so +much, and it is all so very harmless, after all, isn't it?" + +"Yes," answered Bellew, "and very wonderful!" + +"Wonderful?--poor old Nannie's fancies!--What do you mean by wonderful?" + +"Upon my word, I hardly know," said Bellew, shaking his head, "but +'there are more things in heaven, and earth,' etc., you know, and this +is one of them." + +"Really!--now you grow mysterious, Mr. Bellew." + +"Like the night!" he answered, turning to aid her across the impertinent +brook that chuckled at them, and laughed after them, as only such a very +impertinent brook possibly could. + +So, betimes, they reached the stile, and crossed it, this time without +mishap, despite the lurking nail and, all too soon for Bellew, had +traversed the orchard, and were come to the garden where the roses all +hung so still upon their stems that they might have been asleep, and +filling the air with the perfume of their dreams. + +And here they paused, perhaps because of the witchery of the moon, +perhaps to listen to the voice of the nightingale who sang on more +gloriously than ever. Yet, though they stood so close together, their +glances seldom met, and they were very silent. But at last, as though +making up her mind, Anthea spoke: + +"What did you mean when you said Old Nannie's dreams were so wonderful?" +she asked. + +"I'll show you!" he answered, and, while he spoke, slipped off his coat, +and drawing up his shirt-sleeve, held out a muscular, white arm towards +her. He held it out in the full radiance of the moon, and thus, looking +down at it, her eyes grew suddenly wide, and her breath caught strangely +as surprise gave place to something else; for there, plain to be seen +upon the white flesh, were three long scars that wound up from elbow to +shoulder. And so, for a while, they stood thus, she looking at his arm, +and he at her. + +"Why--" said she at last, finding voice in a little gasp,--"why then--" + +"I am the Man with the Tiger Mark!" he said, smiling his slow, placid +smile. Now, as his eyes looked down into hers, she flushed sudden, and +hot, and her glance wavered, and fell beneath his. + +"Oh!" she cried, and, with the word, turned about, and fled from him +into the house. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +_In which may be found a full, true, and particular account of the sale_ + +"Uncle Porges, there's a little man in the hall with a red, red nose, +an' a blue, blue chin,--" + +"Yes, I've seen him,--also his nose, and chin, my Porges." + +"But he's sticking little papers with numbers on them, all over my +Auntie Anthea's chairs,--an' tables. Now what do you s'pose he's doing +that for?" + +"Who knows? It's probably all on account of his red nose, and blue chin, +my Porges. Anyway, don't worry about him,--let us rather, find our +Auntie Anthea." + +They found her in the hall. And it _was_ a hall, here, at Dapplemere, +wide, and high, and with a minstrel's gallery at one end; a hall that, +years and years ago, had often rung with the clash of men-at-arms, and +echoed with loud, and jovial laughter, for this was the most ancient +part of the Manor. + +It looked rather bare, and barren, just now, for the furniture was all +moved out of place,--ranged neatly round the walls, and stacked at the +farther end, beneath the gallery where the little man in question, blue +of chin, and red of nose, was hovering about it, dabbing little tickets +on chairs, and tables,--even as Small Porges had said. + +And, in the midst of it all, stood Anthea, a desolate figure, Bellew +thought, who, upon his entrance, bent her head to draw on her driving +gloves, for she was waiting for the dog-cart which was to bear her, and +Small Porges to Cranbrook, far away from the hollow tap of the +auctioneer's hammer. + +"We're getting rid of some of the old furniture, you see, Mr. Bellew," +she said, laying her hand on an antique cabinet nearby,--"we really have +much more than we ever use." + +"Yes," said Bellew. But he noticed that her eyes were very dark and +wistful, despite her light tone, and that she had laid her hand upon the +old cabinet with a touch very like a caress. + +"Why is that man's nose so awful' red, and his chin so blue, Auntie +Anthea?" enquired Small Porges, in a hissing stage whisper. + +"Hush Georgy!--I don't know," said Anthea. + +"An' why is he sticking his little numbers all over our best furniture!" + +"That is to guide the auctioneer." + +"Where to,--an' what is an auctioneer?" + +But, at this moment, hearing the wheels of the dog-cart at the door, +Anthea turned, and hastened out into the sunshine. + +"A lovely day it do be for drivin'," said Adam touching his hat, "an' +Bess be thinkin' the same, I do believe!" and he patted the glossy coat +of the mare, who arched her neck, and pawed the gravel with an impatient +hoof. Lightly, and nimbly Anthea swung herself up to the high seat, +turning to make Small Porges secure beside her, as Bellew handed him up. + +"You'll--look after things for me, Adam?" said Anthea, glancing back +wistfully into the dim recesses of the cool, old hall. + +"Aye,--I will that, Miss Anthea!" + +"Mr. Bellew, we can find room for you if you care to come with us?" + +"Thanks," said he, shaking his head, "but I rather think I'll stay here, +and--er--help Adam to--to--look after things, if you don't mind." + +"Then,--'Good-bye!'" said Anthea, and, nodding to Adam, he gave the mare +her head, and off they went. + +"Good-bye!" cried Small Porges, "an' thank you for the shilling Uncle +Porges." + +"The mare is--er--rather fresh this morning, isn't she, Adam?" enquired +Bellew, watching the dog-cart's rapid course. + +"Fresh sir?" + +"And that's rather a--er--dangerous sort of thing for a woman to drive, +isn't it?" + +"Meanin' the dog-cart, sir?" + +"Meaning the dog-cart, Adam." + +"Why, Lord love ye, Mr. Belloo sir!" cried Adam with his great laugh, +"there ain't nobody can 'andle the ribbons better than Miss +Anthea,--there ain't a horse as she can't drive,--ah! or ride, for that +matter,--not no-wheres, sir." + +"Hum!" said Bellew, and, having watched the dog-cart out of sight, he +turned and followed Adam into the stables. + +And here, sitting upon a bale of hay, they smoked many pipes together in +earnest converse, until such time as the sale should begin. + +As the day advanced, people began arriving in twos and threes, and, +among the first, the Auctioneer himself. A jovial-faced man, was this +Auctioneer, with jovial manner, and a jovial smile. Indeed, his +joviality seemed, somehow or other, to have got into the very buttons of +his coat, for they fairly winked, and twinkled with joviality. Upon +catching sight of the furniture he became, if possible, more jovial than +ever, and beckoning to his assistant,--that is to say to the small man +with the red nose and the blue chin, who, it seemed answered to the name +of Theodore,--he clapped him jovially upon the back,--(rather as though +he were knocking him down to some unfortunate bidder),--and immediately +fell into business converse with him,--albeit jovial still. + +But all the while intending purchasers were arriving; they came on +horse, and afoot, and in conveyances of every sort and kind, and the +tread of their feet, and the buzz of their voices awoke unwonted echoes +in the old place. And still they came, from far and near, until some +hundred odd people were crowded into the hall. + +Conspicuous among them was a large man with a fat, red neck which he was +continually mopping at, and rubbing with a vivid bandanna handkerchief +scarcely less red. Indeed, red seemed to be his pervading colour, for +his hair was red, his hands were red, and his face, heavy and round, was +reddest of all, out of whose flaming circumference two diminutive but +very sharp eyes winked and blinked continually. His voice, like himself, +was large with a peculiar brassy ring to it that penetrated to the +farthest corners and recesses of the old hall. He was, beyond all doubt, +a man of substance, and of no small importance, for he was greeted +deferentially on all hands, and it was to be noticed that people elbowed +each other to make way for him, as people ever will before substance, +and property. To some of them he nodded, to some he spoke, and with +others he even laughed, albeit he was of a solemn, sober, and serious +nature, as becomes a man of property, and substance. + +Between whiles, however, he bestowed his undivided attention upon the +furniture. He sat down suddenly and heavily, in chairs; he pummelled +them with his plump, red fists,--whereby to test their springs; he +opened the doors of cabinets; he peered into drawers; he rapped upon +tables, and altogether comported himself as a thoroughly knowing man +should, who is not to be hocussed by veneer, or taken in by the shine, +and splendour of well applied bees-wax. Bellew, watching all this from +where he sat screened from the throng by a great carved sideboard, and +divers chairs, and whatnots,--drew rather harder at his pipe, and, +chancing to catch Adam's eye, beckoned him to approach. + +"Who is that round, red man, yonder, Adam?" he enquired, nodding to +where the individual in question was engaged at that moment poking at +something or other with a large, sausage-like finger. + +"That!" replied Adam in a tone of profound disgust, "that be Mr. Grimes, +o' Cranbrook, sir. Calls hisself a corn-chandler,--but I calls +'im,--well, never mind what, sir,--only it weren't at corn-chandling as +'e made all 'is money, sir,--and it be him as we all work, and slave +for,--here at Dapplemere Farm." + +"What do you mean, Adam?" + +"I mean as it be him as holds the mortgage on Dapplemere, sir." + +"Ah,--and how much?" + +"Over three thousand pound, Mr. Belloo sir!" sighed Adam, with a +hopeless shake of the head, "an' that be a powerful lot o' money, sir." + +Bellew thought of the sums he had lavished upon his yacht, upon his +three racing cars, and certain other extravagances. Three thousand +pounds,--fifteen thousand dollars! It would make her a free +woman,--independent,--happy! Just fifteen thousand dollars,--and he had +thrown away more than that upon a poker game, before now! + +"Lord!" exclaimed Adam, "the very sight o' that theer Grimes's pig eyes +a-starin' at Miss Anthea's furnitur' do make the Old Adam rise up in me +to that amazin' extent, Mr. Belloo sir--why, jest look at 'im a-thumpin' +an' a poundin' at that theer chair!" Saying which, Adam turned, and +elbowing his way to where Mr. Grimes was in the act of testing the +springs of an easy chair, he promptly,--and as though forced by a +struggling mob,--fell up against Mr. Grimes, and jostled Mr. Grimes, and +trod heavily upon the toes of Mr. Grimes, and all with an expression of +the most profound unconsciousness and abstraction, which, upon the +indignant Corn-chandler's loud expostulations, immediately changed to a +look of innocent surprise. + +"Can't you look where you're going?--you clumsy fool!" fumed the irate +Grimes, redder of neck than ever. + +"Ax your pardon, Mr. Grimes," said Adam solemnly, "but what wi' people's +legs, an' cheer legs, an' the legs o' tables,--not to mention sideboards +an' cab'nets,--which, though not 'aving no legs, ain't to be by no +manner o' means despised therefore,--w'ot wi' this an' that, an' +t'other, I am that con-fined, or as you might say, con-fused, I don't +know which legs is mine, or yourn, or anybody else's. Mr. Grimes sir,--I +makes so bold as to ax your pardon all over again, sir." During which +speech, Adam contrived, once more, to fall against, to tread upon, and +to jostle the highly incensed Mr. Grimes back into the crowd again. +Thereafter he became a Nemesis to Mr. Grimes, haunting him through the +jungle of chairs, and tables, pursuing him into distant corners, and +shady places, where, so sure as the sausage-like finger poised itself +for an interrogatory poke, or the fat, red fist doubled itself for a +spring-testing punch, the innocent-seeming Adam would thereupon fall +against him from the rear, sideways, or in front. + +Meanwhile, Bellew sat in his secluded corner, watching the crowd through +the blue wreaths of his pipe, but thinking of her who, brave though she +was, had nevertheless run away from it all at the last moment. +Presently, however, he was aware that the Corn-chandler had seated +himself on the other side of the chiffonier, puffing, and panting with +heat, and indignation,--where he was presently joined by another +individual,--a small, rat-eyed man, who bid Mr. Grimes a deferential +"Good-day!" + +"That there Adam," puffed the Corn-chandler, "that there Adam ought to +be throwed out into the stables where he belongs. I never see a man as +was so much growed to feet and elbers, in all my days! He ought to be +took," repeated the Corn-chandler, "and shook, and throwed out into +the yard." + +"Yes," nodded the other, "took, and shook, and throwed out--neck, and +crop, sir! And now,--what might you think o' the furniture, Mr. Grimes?" + +"So so, Parsons," nodded Grimes, "so so!" + +"Shall you buy?" + +"I am a-going," said the Corn-chandler with much deliberation, "I am +a-going to take them tapestry cheers, sir, likewise the grand-feyther +clock in the corner here, likewise the four-post bed-stead wi' the +carved 'ead-board,--and--most particular, Parsons, I shall take this +here side-board. There ain't another piece like this in the county, as I +know of,--solid ma-hogany, sir!--and the carvings!" and herewith, he +gave two loud double knocks upon the article of furniture in question. +"Oh! I've 'ad my eye on this side-board for years, and years,--knowed +I'd get it some day, too,--the only wonder is as she ain't had to sell +up afore now." + +"Meaning Miss Anthea, sir?" + +"Ah,--her! I say as it's a wonder to me,--wo't wi' the interest on the +mortgage I 'old on the place, and one thing and another,--it's a wonder +to me as she's kept her 'ead above water so long. But--mark me, Parsons, +mark me,--she'll be selling again soon, and next time it'll be lock, +stock, and barrel, Parsons!" + +"Well, I don't 'old wi' women farmers, myself!" nodded Parsons. +"But,--as to that cup-board over there,--Sheraton, I think,--what might +you suppose it to be worth,--betwixt friends, now?" enquired Parsons, +the rat eyed. + +"Can't say till I've seed it, and likewise felt it," answered the +Corn-chandler, rising. "Let me lay my 'and upon it, and I'll tell +you--to a shilling," and here, they elbowed their way into the crowd. +But Bellew sat there, chin in hand, quite oblivious to the fact that his +pipe was out, long since. + +The tall, old grand-father clock ticking in leisurely fashion in the +corner behind him, solemn and sedate, as it had done since, (as the neat +inscription upon the dial testified), it had first been made in the Year +of Grace 1732, by one Jabez Havesham, of London;--this ancient +time-piece now uttered a sudden wheeze, (which, considering its great +age, could scarcely be wondered at), and, thereafter, the wheezing +having subsided, gave forth a soft, and mellow chime, proclaiming to all +and sundry, that it was twelve o'clock. Hereupon, the Auctioneer, +bustling to and fro with his hat upon the back of his head, consulted +his watch, nodded to the red nosed, blue-chinned Theodore, and, perching +himself above the crowd, gave three sharp knocks with his hammer. + +"Gentlemen!" he began, but here he was interrupted by a loud voice +upraised in hot anger. + +"Confound ye for a clumsy rascal! Will ye keep them elbers o' yourn to +out o' my weskit, eh? Will ye keep them big feet o' yourn to yeself? If +there ain't room enough for ye,--out ye go, d'ye hear--I'll have ye +took, and shook,--and throwed out where ye belong; so jest mind where ye +come a trampin', and a treadin'." + +"Tread!" repeated Adam, "Lord! where am I to tread? If I steps backward +I tread on ye,--If I steps sideways I tread on ye, if I steps for-ard I +tread on ye. It do seem to me as I can't go nowhere but there you be +a-waitin' to be trod on, Mr. Grimes, sir." + +Hereupon the Auctioneer rapped louder than ever, upon which, the clamour +subsiding, he smiled his most jovial smile, and once more began: + +"Gentlemen! you have all had an opportunity to examine the furniture I +am about to dispose of, and, as fair minded human beings I think you +will admit that a finer lot of genuine antique was never offered at one +and the same time. Gentlemen, I am not going to burst forth into +laudatory rodomontade, (which is a word, gentlemen that I employ only +among an enlightened community such as I now have the honour of +addressing),--neither do I propose to waste your time in purposeless +verbiage, (which is another of the same kind, gentlemen),--therefore, +without further preface, or preamble, we will proceed at once to +business. The first lot I have to offer you is a screen,--six foot +high,--bring out the screen, Theodore! There it is, gentlemen,--open it +out, Theodore! Observe, Gentlemen it is carved rosewood, the panels hand +painted, and representing shepherds, and shepherdesses, disporting +themselves under a tree with banjo and guitar. Now what am I offered for +this hand-painted, antique screen,--come?" + +"Fifteen shillings!" from someone deep hidden in the crowd. + +"Start as low as you like, gentlemen! I am offered a miserable fifteen +shillings for a genuine, hand-painted--" + +"Sixteen!" this from a long, loose-limbed fellow with a patch over one +eye, and another on his cheek. + +"A pound!" said Adam, promptly. + +"A guinea!" nodded he of the patches. + +"Twenty-five shillin's!" said Adam. + +"At twenty-five shillings!" cried the Auctioneer, "any advance?--a +genuine, hand-painted, antique screen,--going at twenty-five--at +twenty-five,--going--going--gone! To the large gentleman in the +neckcloth, Theodore!" + +"Theer be that Job Jagway, sir," said Adam, leaning across the +side-board to impart this information,--"over yonder, Mr. Belloo +sir,--'im as was bidding for the screen,--the tall chap wi' the patches. +Two patches be pretty good, but I do wish as I'd give him a couple more, +while I was about it, Mr. Belloo sir." Here, the Auctioneer's voice put +an end to Adam's self-reproaches, and he turned back to the business +in hand. + +"The next lot I'm going to dispose of, gentlemen, is a fine set of six +chairs with carved antique backs, and upholstered in tapestry. Also two +arm-chairs to match,--wheel 'em out, Theodore! Now what is your price +for these eight fine pieces,--look 'em over and bid accordingly." + +"Thirty shillings!" Again from the depths of the crowd. + +"Ha! ha!--you joke sir!" laughed the Auctioneer, rubbing his hands in +his most jovial manner, "you joke! I can't see you, but you joke of +course, and I laugh accordingly, ha! ha! Thirty shillings for eight, +fine, antique, tapestried, hand-carved chairs,--Oh very +good,--excellent, upon my soul!" + +"Three pound!" said the fiery-necked Corn-chandler. + +"Guineas!" said the rat-eyed Parsons. + +"Four pound!" nodded the Corn-chandler. + +"Four pound ten!" roared Adam. + +"Five!" nodded Grimes, edging away from Adam's elbow. + +"Six pound ten!" cried Adam. + +"Seven!"--from Parsons. + +"Eight!" said Grimes. + +"Ten!" roared Adam, growing desperate. + +"Eleven!" said Grimes, beginning to mop at his neck again. + +Adam hesitated; eleven pounds seemed so very much for those chairs, that +he had seen Prudence and the rosy-cheeked maids dust regularly every +morning, and then,--it was not his money, after all. Therefore Adam +hesitated, and glanced wistfully towards a certain distant corner. + +"At eleven,--at eleven pounds!--this fine suite of hand-carved antique +chairs, at eleven pounds!--at eleven!--at eleven, going--going!--" + +"Fifteen!" said a voice from the distant corner; whereupon Adam drew a +great sigh of relief, while the Corn-chandler contorted himself in his +efforts to glare at Bellew round the side-board. + +"Fifteen pounds!" chanted the Auctioneer, "I have fifteen,--I am given +fifteen,--any advance? These eight antique chairs, going at +fifteen!--going! for the last time,--going!--gone! Sold to the gentleman +in the corner behind the side-board, Theodore." + +"They were certainly fine chairs, Mr. Grimes!" said Parsons shaking his +head. + +"So so!" said the Corn-chandler, sitting down heavily, "So so, Parsons!" +and he turned to glare at Bellew, who, lying back in an easy chair with +his legs upon another, puffed at his pipe, and regarded all things with +a placid interest. + +It is not intended to record in these pages all the bids that were made +as the afternoon advanced, for that would be fatiguing to write, and a +weariness to read; suffice it that lots were put up, and regularly +knocked down but always to Bellew, or Adam. Which last, encouraged by +Bellew's bold advances, gaily roared down, and constantly out-bid all +competitors with such unhesitating pertinacity, that murmurs rose, and +swelled into open complaint. In the midst of which, the fiery-visaged +Corn-chandler, purple now, between heat, and vexation, loudly demanded +that he lay down some substantial deposit upon what he had already +purchased, failing which, he should, there and then, be took, and shook, +and throwed out into the yard. + +"Neck, and crop!" added Mr. Parsons. + +"That seems to be a fair proposition," smiled the Auctioneer, who had +already experienced some doubts as to Adam's financial capabilities, yet +with his joviality all unruffled,--"that seems to be a very fair +proposal indeed. If the gentleman will put down some substantial +deposit now--" + +"Aye, for sure!" nodded Adam, stepping forward; and, unbuttoning a +capacious pocket he drew out a handful of bank-notes, "shall I gi'e ye a +hundred pound,--or will fifty be enough?" + +"Why," said the Auctioneer, rubbing his hands as he eyed the fistful of +bank-notes, "ten pound will be all that is necessary, sir,--just to +ensure good faith, you understand." + +Hereupon, Bellew beckoning to Adam, handed him a like amount which was +duly deposited with the Auctioneer. + +So, once more, the bidding began,--once more lots were put up,--and +knocked down--now to Adam, and now to Bellew. The bed with the carved +head-board had fallen to Adam after a lively contest between him, and +Parsons, and the Corn-chandler, which had left the latter in a state of +perspiring profanity, from which he was by no means recovered, when the +Auctioneer once more rapped for silence. + +"And now, gentlemen, last, but by no means least, we come to the gem of +the sale,--a side-board, gentlemen,--a magnificent, mahogany +side-board, being a superb example of the carver's art! Here is a +side-board, gentlemen, which,--if it can be equalled,--cannot be +excelled--no, gentlemen, not if you were to search all the baronial +halls, and lordly mansions in this land of mansions, and baronials. It +is a truly magnificent piece, in perfect condition,--and to be sold at +your own price. I say no more. Gentlemen,--how much for this +magnificent, mahogany piece?" + +"Ten pound!" + +"Eleven!" + +"Fifteen!" + +"Seventeen!" said Adam, who was rapidly drawing near the end of his +resources. + +"Eighteen!" This from Job Jagway. + +"Go easy there, Job!" hissed Adam, edging a little nearer to him, "go +easy, now,--Nineteen!" + +"Come, come Gentlemen!" remonstrated the Auctioneer, "this isn't a +coal-scuttle, nor a broom, nor yet a pair of tongs,--this is a +magnificent mahogany side-board,--and you offer me--nineteen pound!" + +"Twenty!" said Job. + +"Twenty-one!" roared Adam, making his last bid, and then, turning, he +hissed in Job's unwilling ear,--"go any higher, an' I'll pound ye to a +jelly, Job!" + +"Twenty-five!" said Parsons. + +"Twenty-seven!" + +"Twenty-eight!" + +"Thirty!" nodded Grimes, scowling at Adam. + +"Thirty-two!" cried Parsons. + +"Thirty-six!" + +"Thirty-seven!" + +"Forty!" nodded Grimes. + +"That drops me," said Parsons, sighing, and shaking his head. + +"Ah!" chuckled the Corn-chandler, "well, I've waited years for that +side-board, Parsons, and I ain't going to let you take it away from +me--nor nobody else, sir!" + +"At forty!" cried the Auctioneer, "at forty!--this magnifi--" + +"One!" nodded Bellew, beginning to fill his pipe. + +"Forty-one's the bid,--I have forty-one from the gent in the corner--" + +"Forty-five!" growled the Corn-chandler. + +"Six!" said Bellew. + +"Fifty!" snarled Grimes. + +"One!" said Bellew. + +"Gent in the corner gives me fifty-one!" chanted the Auctioneer--"any +advance?--at fifty-one--" + +"Fifty-five!" said Grimes, beginning to mop at his neck harder than +ever. + +"Add ten!" nodded Bellew. + +"What's that?" cried Grimes, wheeling about. + +"Gent in the corner offers me sixty-five,--at sixty-five,--this +magnificent piece at sixty-five! What, are you all done?--at sixty-five, +and cheap at the price,--come, gentlemen, take your time, give it +another look over, and bid accordingly." + +The crowd had dwindled rapidly during the last hour, which was scarcely +to be wondered at seeing that they were constantly out-bid--either by a +hoarse voiced, square-shouldered fellow in a neck-cloth, or a dreamy +individual who lolled in a corner, and puffed at a pipe. + +But now, as Grimes, his red cheeks puffed out, his little eyes snapping +in a way that many knew meant danger (with a large D)--as the rich +Corn-chandler, whose word was law to a good many, turned and confronted +this lounging, long-legged individual,--such as remained closed round +them in a ring, in keen expectation of what was to follow. Observing +which, the Corn-chandler feeling it incumbent upon him now or never, to +vindicate himself as a man of property, and substance, and not to be put +down, thrust his hands deep into his pockets, spread his legs wide +apart, and stared at Bellew in a way that most people had found highly +disconcerting, before now. Bellew, however, seemed wholly unaffected, +and went on imperturbably filling his pipe. + +"At sixty-five!" cried the Auctioneer, leaning towards Grimes with his +hammer poised, "at sixty-five--Will you make it another pound, +sir!--come,--what do you say?" + +"I say--no sir!" returned the Corn-chandler, slowly, and impressively, +"I say no, sir,--I say--make it another--twenty pound, sir!" Hereupon +heads were shaken, or nodded, and there rose the sudden shuffle of feet +as the crowd closed in nearer. + +"I get eighty-five! any advance on eighty-five?" + +"Eighty-six!" said Bellew, settling the tobacco in his pipe-bowl with +his thumb. + +Once again the Auctioneer leaned over and appealed to the Corn-chandler, +who stood in the same attitude, jingling the money in his pocket, "Come +sir, don't let a pound or so stand between you and a side-board that +can't be matched in the length and breadth of the United Kingdom,--come, +what do you say to another ten shillings?" + +"I say, sir," said Grimes, with his gaze still riveted upon Bellew, "I +say--no sir,--I say make it another--twenty pound sir!" + +Again there rose the shuffle of feet, again heads were nodded, and +elbows nudged neighbouring ribs, and all eyes were focussed upon Bellew +who was in the act of lighting his pipe. + +"One hundred and six pounds!" cried the Auctioneer, "at one six!--at one +six!--" + +Bellew struck a match, but the wind from the open casement behind him, +extinguished it. + +"I have one hundred and six pounds! is there any advance, yes or +no?--going at one hundred and six!" + +Adam who, up till now, had enjoyed the struggle to the utmost, +experienced a sudden qualm of fear. + +Bellew struck another match. + +"At one hundred and six pounds!--at one six,--going at one hundred and +six pounds--!" + +A cold moisture started out on Adam's brow, he clenched his hands, and +muttered between his teeth. Supposing the money were all gone, like his +own share, supposing they had to lose this famous old side-board,--and +to Grimes of all people! This, and much more, was in Adam's mind while +the Auctioneer held his hammer poised, and Bellew went on lighting +his pipe. + +"Going at one hundred and six!--going!--going!--" + +"Fifty up!" said Bellew. His pipe was well alight at last, and he was +nodding to the Auctioneer through a fragrant cloud. + +"What!" cried Grimes, "'ow much?" + +"Gent in the corner gives me one hundred and fifty six pounds," said the +Auctioneer, with a jovial eye upon the Corn-chandler's lowering visage, +"one five six,--all done?--any advance? Going at one five six,--going! +going!--gone!" The hammer fell, and with its tap a sudden silence came +upon the old hall. Then, all at once, the Corn-chandler turned, caught +up his hat, clapped it on, shook a fat fist at Bellew, and crossing to +the door, lumbered away, muttering maledictions as he went. + +By twos and threes the others followed him until there remained only +Adam, Bellew, the Auctioneer, and the red-nosed Theodore. And yet, there +was one other, for, chancing to raise his eyes to the minstrel's +gallery, Bellew espied Miss Priscilla, who, meeting his smiling glance, +leaned down suddenly over the carved rail, and very deliberately, threw +him a kiss, and then hurried away with a quick, light tap-tap of +her stick. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +_How Anthea came home_ + +"Lord!" said Adam, pausing with a chair under either arm, "Lord, Mr. +Belloo sir,--I wonder what Miss Anthea will say?" with which remark he +strode off with the two chairs to set them in their accustomed places. + +Seldom indeed had the old hall despite its many years, seen such a +running to and fro, heard such a patter of flying feet, such merry +voices, such gay, and heart-felt laughter. For here was Miss Priscilla, +looking smaller than ever, in a great arm chair whence she directed the +disposal and arrangement of all things, with quick little motions of her +crutch-stick. And here were the two rosy-cheeked maids, brighter and +rosier than ever, and here was comely Prudence hither come from her +kitchen to bear a hand, and here, as has been said, was Adam, and here +also was Bellew, his pipe laid aside with his coat, pushing, and tugging +in his efforts to get the great side-board back into its customary +position; and all, as has also been said, was laughter, and bustle, and +an eager haste to have all things as they were,--and should be +henceforth,--before Anthea's return. + +"Lord!" exclaimed Adam again, balanced now upon a ladder, and pausing to +wipe his brow with one hand and with a picture swinging in the other, +"Lord! what ever will Miss Anthea say, Mr. Belloo sir!" + +"Ah!" nodded Bellew thoughtfully, "I wonder!" + +"What do you suppose she'll say, Miss Priscilla, mam?" + +"I think you'd better be careful of that picture, Adam!" + +"Which means," said Bellew, smiling down into Miss Priscilla's young, +bright eyes, "that you don't know." + +"Well, Mr. Bellew, she'll be very--glad, of course,--happier I think, +than you or I can guess, because I know she loves every stick, and stave +of that old furniture,--but--" + +"But!" nodded Bellew, "yes, I understand." + +"Mr. Bellew, if Anthea,--God bless her dear heart!--but if she has a +fault--it is pride, Mr. Bellew, Pride! Pride! Pride!--with a capital P!" + +"Yes, she is very proud." + +"She'll be that 'appy-'earted," said Adam, pausing near-by with a great +armful of miscellaneous articles, "an' that full o' joy as never was! +Mr. Belloo sir!" Having delivered himself of which, he departed with +his load. + +"I rose this morning--very early, Mr. Bellew,--Oh! very early!" said +Miss Priscilla, following Adam's laden figure with watchful eyes, +"couldn't possibly sleep, you see. So I got up,--ridiculously +early,--but, bless you, she was before me!" + +"Ah!" + +"Oh dear yes!--had been up--hours! And what--what do you suppose she was +doing?" Bellew shook his head. + +"She was rubbing and polishing that old side-board that you paid such a +dreadful price for,--down on her knees before it,--yes she was! and +polishing, and rubbing, and--crying all the while. Oh dear heart! such +great, big tears,--and so very quiet! When she heard my little stick +come tapping along she tried to hide them,--I mean her tears, of course, +Mr. Bellew, and when I drew her dear, beautiful head down into my arms, +she--tried to smile. 'I'm so very silly, Aunt Priscilla,' she said, +crying more than ever, 'but it _is_ so hard to let the old things be +taken away,--you see,--I do _love_ them so! I tell you all this, Mr. +Bellew, because I like you,--ever since you took the trouble to pick up +a ball of worsted for a poor, old lame woman--in an orchard,--first +impressions, you know. And secondly, I tell you all this to explain to +you why I--hum!--" + +"Threw a kiss--from a minstrel's gallery, to a most unworthy individual, +Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Threw you a kiss, Mr. Bellew,--I had to,--the side-board you know,--on +her knees--you understand?" + +"I understand!" + +"You see, Mr. Belloo sir," said Adam, at this juncture, speaking from +beneath an inlaid table which he held balanced upon his head,--"it +ain't as if this was jest ordinary furnitur' sir,--ye see she kind-er +feels as it be all part o' Dapplemere Manor, as it used to be called, +it's all been here so long, that them cheers an' tables has come to be +part o' the 'ouse, sir. So when she comes, an' finds as it ain't all +been took,--or, as you might say,--vanished away,--why the question as I +ax's you is,--w'ot will she say? Oh Lord!" And here, Adam gave vent to +his great laugh which necessitated an almost superhuman exertion of +strength to keep the table from slipping from its precarious perch. +Whereupon Miss Priscilla screamed, (a very small scream, like herself) +and Prudence scolded, and the two rosy-cheeked maids tittered, and Adam +went chuckling upon his way. + +And when the hall was, once more, its old, familiar, comfortable self, +when the floor had been swept of its litter, and every trace of the sale +removed,--then Miss Priscilla sighed, and Bellew put on his coat. + +"When do you expect--she will come home?" he enquired, glancing at the +grandfather clock in the corner. + +"Well, if she drove straight back from Cranbrook she would be here +now,--but I fancy she won't be so very anxious to get home to-day,--and +may come the longest way round; yes, it's in my mind she will keep away +from Dapplemere as long as ever she can." + +"And I think," said Bellew, "Yes, I think I'll take a walk. I'll go and +call upon the Sergeant." + +"The Sergeant!" said Miss Priscilla, "let me see,--it is now a quarter +to six, it should take you about fifteen minutes to the village, that +will make it exactly six o'clock. You will find the Sergeant just +sitting down in the chair on the left hand side of the fire-place,--in +the corner,--at the 'King's Head,' you know. Not that I have ever seen +him there,--good gracious no! but I--happen to be--acquainted with his +habits, and he is as regular and precise as his great, big silver watch, +and that is the most precise, and regular thing in all the world. I am +glad you are going," she went on, "because to-day is--well, a day apart, +Mr. Bellew. You will find the Sergeant at the 'King's Head,'--until half +past seven." + +"Then I will go to the 'King's Head,'" said Bellew. "And what message do +you send him?" + +"None," said Miss Priscilla, laughing and shaking her head,--"at +least,--you can tell him, if you wish,--that--the peaches are riper than +ever they were this evening." + +"I won't forget," said Bellew, smiling, and went out into the sunshine. +But, crossing the yard, he was met by Adam, who, chuckling still, paused +to touch his hat. + +"To look at that theer 'all, sir, you wouldn't never know as there'd +ever been any sale at all,--not no'ow. Now the only question as worrits +me, and as I'm a-axin' of myself constant is,--what will Miss Anthea +'ave to say about it?" + +"Yes," said Bellew, "I wonder!" And so he turned, and went away slowly +across the fields. + +Miss Priscilla had been right,--Anthea _was_ coming back the longest way +round,--also she was anxious to keep away from Dapplemere as long as +possible. Therefore, despite Small Porges' exhortations, and Bess's +champing impatience, she held the mare in, permitting her only the +slowest of paces, which was a most unusual thing for Anthea to do. For +the most part, too, she drove in silence seemingly deaf to Small Porges' +flow of talk, which was also very unlike in her. But before her eyes +were visions of her dismantled home, in her ears was the roar of voices +clamouring for her cherished possessions,--a sickening roar, broken, now +and then, by the hollow tap of the auctioneer's cruel hammer. And, each +time the clamouring voices rose, she shivered, and every blow of the +cruel hammer seemed to fall upon her quivering heart. Thus, she was +unwontedly deaf and unresponsive to Small Porges, who presently fell +into a profound gloom, in consequence; and thus, she held in the eager +mare who therefore, shied, and fidgeted, and tossed her head +indignantly. + +But, slowly as they went, they came within sight of the house, at last, +with its quaint gables, and many latticed windows, and the blue smoke +curling up from its twisted chimneys,--smiling and placid as though, in +all this great world, there were no such thing to be found as--an +auctioneer's hammer. + +And presently they swung into the drive, and drew up in the courtyard. +And there was Adam, waiting to take the mare's head,--Adam, as +good-natured, and stolid as though there were no abominations called, +for want of a worse name,--sales. + +Very slowly, for her, Anthea climbed down from the high dog-cart, aiding +Small Porges to earth, and with his hand clasped tight in hers, and with +lips set firm, she turned and entered the hall. But, upon the threshold, +she stopped, and stood there utterly still, gazing, and gazing upon the +trim orderliness of everything. Then, seeing every well remembered thing +in its appointed place,--all became suddenly blurred, and dim, and, +snatching her hand from Small Porges' clasp, she uttered a great, +choking sob, and covered her face. + +But Small Porges had seen, and stood aghast, and Miss Priscilla had +seen, and now hurried forward with a quick tap, tap of her stick. As she +came, Anthea raised her head, and looked for one who should have been +there, but was not. And, in that moment, instinctively she knew how +things came to be as they were,--and, because of this knowledge, her +cheeks flamed with a swift, burning colour, and with a soft cry, she hid +her face in Miss Priscilla's gentle bosom. Then, while her face was yet +hidden there, she whispered: + +"Tell me--tell me--all about it." + +But, meanwhile, Bellew, striding far away across the meadows, seeming to +watch the glory of the sun-set, and to hearken to a blackbird piping +from the dim seclusion of the copse a melodious "Good-bye" to the dying +day, yet saw, and heard it not at all, for his mind was still occupied +with Adam's question:-- + +"What would Miss Anthea say?" + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +_Which, among, other things, has to do with shrimps, muffins, and tin +whistles_ + +A typical Kentish Village is Dapplemere with its rows of scattered +cottages bowered in roses and honeysuckle,--white walled cottages with +steep-pitched roofs, and small latticed windows that seem to stare at +all and sundry like so many winking eyes. + +There is an air redolent of ripening fruit, and hops, for Dapplemere is +a place of orchards, and hop-gardens, and rick-yards, while, here and +there, the sharp-pointed, red-tiled roof of some oast-house pierces +the green. + +Though Dapplemere village is but a very small place indeed, +now-a-days,--yet it possesses a church, grey and ancient, whose massive +Norman tower looks down upon gable and chimney, upon roof of thatch and +roof of tile, like some benignant giant keeping watch above them all. +Near-by, of course, is the inn, a great, rambling, comfortable place, +with time-worn settles beside the door, and with a mighty sign +a-swinging before it, upon which, plainly to be seen (when the sun +catches it fairly) is that which purports to be a likeness of His +Majesty King William the Fourth, of glorious memory. But alas! the +colours have long since faded, so that now, (upon a dull day), it is a +moot question whether His Majesty's nose was of the Greek, or Roman +order, or, indeed, whether he was blessed with any nose at all. Thus, +Time and Circumstances have united to make a ghost of the likeness (as +they have done of the original, long since) which, fading yet more, and +more, will doubtless eventually vanish altogether,--like King William +himself, and leave but a vague memory behind. + +Now, before the inn was a small crowd gathered about a trap in which sat +two men, one of whom Bellew recognised as the rednecked Corn-chandler +Grimes, and the other, the rat-eyed Parsons. + +The Corn-chandler was mopping violently at his face and neck down which +ran, and to which clung, a foamy substance suspiciously like the froth +of beer, and, as he mopped, his loud brassy voice shook and quavered +with passion. + +"I tell ye--you shall get out o' my cottage!" he was saying, "I say you +shall quit my cottage at the end o' the month,--and when I says a thing, +I means it,--I say you shall get off of my property,--you--and that +beggarly cobbler. I say you shall be throwed out o' my cottage,--lock, +stock, and barrel. I say--" + +"I wouldn't, Mr. Grimes,--leastways, not if I was you," another voice +broke in, calm and deliberate. "No, I wouldn't go for to say another +word, sir; because, if ye do say another word, I know a man as will drag +you down out o' that cart, sir,--I know a man as will break your whip +over your very own back, sir,--I know a man as will then take and heave +you into the horse-pond, sir,--and that man is me--Sergeant Appleby, +late of the Nineteenth Hussars, sir." + +The Corn-chandler having removed most of the froth from his head and +face, stared down at the straight, alert figure of the big Sergeant, +hesitated, glanced at the Sergeant's fist which, though solitary, was +large, and powerful, scowled at the Sergeant from his polished boots to +the crown of his well-brushed hat (which perched upon his close-cropped, +grey hair at a ridiculous angle totally impossible to any but an +ex-cavalry-man), muttered a furious oath, and snatching his whip, cut +viciously at his horse, very much as if that animal had been the +Sergeant himself, and, as the trap lurched forward, he shook his fist, +and nodded his head. + +"Out ye go,--at the end o' the month,--mind that!" he snarled and so, +rattled away down the road still mopping at his head and neck until he +had fairly mopped himself out of sight. + +"Well, Sergeant," said Bellew extending his hand, "how are you!" + +"Hearty, sir,--hearty I thank you, though, at this precise moment, just +a leetle put out, sir. None the less I know a man as is happy to see +you, Mr. Bellew, sir,--and that's me--Sergeant Appleby, at your service, +sir. My cottage lies down the road yonder, an easy march--if you will +step that far?--Speaking for my comrade and myself--we shall be proud +for you to take tea with us--muffins sir--shrimps, Mr. Bellew--also a +pikelet or two.--Not a great feast--but tolerable good rations, sir--and +plenty of 'em--what do you say?" + +"I say--done, and thank you very much!" + +So, without further parley, the Sergeant saluted divers of the little +crowd, and, wheeling sharply, strode along beside Bellew, rather more +stiff in the back, and fixed of eye than was his wont, and jingling his +imaginary spurs rather more loudly than usual. + +"You will be wondering at the tantrums of the man Grimes, sir,--of his +ordering me and my comrade Peterday out of his cottage. Sir--I'll tell +you--in two words. It's all owing to the sale--up at the Farm, sir. You +see, Grimes is a great hand at buying things uncommonly cheap, and +selling 'em--uncommonly dear. To-day it seems--he was disappointed--" + +"Ah?" said Bellew. + +"At exactly--twenty-three minutes to six, sir," said the Sergeant, +consulting his large silver watch, "I were sitting in my usual +corner--beside the chimley, sir,--when in comes Grimes--like a +thunder-cloud.--Calls for a pint of ale--in a tankard. Tom draws +pint--which Tom is the landlord, sir. 'Buy anything at the sale, Mr. +Grimes?' says Tom,--'Sale!' says Grimes, 'sale indeed!' and falls a +cursing--folk up at the Farm--shocking--outrageous. Ends by threatening +to foreclose mortgage--within the month. Upon which--I raise a +protest--upon which he grows abusive,--upon which I was forced to pour +his ale over him,--after which I ran him out into the road--and there it +is, you see." + +"And--he threatened to foreclose the mortgage on Dapplemere Farm, did +he, Sergeant!" + +"Within the month, sir!--upon which I warned him--inn parlour no +place--lady's private money troubles--gaping crowd--dammit!" + +"And so he is turning you out of his cottage?" + +"Within the week, sir,--but then--beer down the neck--is rather +unpleasant!" and here the Sergeant uttered a short laugh, and was +immediately grave again. "It isn't," he went on, "it isn't as _I_ mind +the inconvenience of moving, sir--though I shall be mighty sorry to +leave the old place, still, it isn't that so much as the small corner +cup-board, and my bookshelf by the chimley. There never was such a +cup-board,--no sir,--there never was a cup-board so well calculated to +hold a pair o' jack boots, not to mention spurs, highlows, burnishers, +shoulder-chains, polishing brushes, and--a boot-jack, as that same small +corner cup-board. As for the book-shelf beside the chimley, +sir--exactly three foot three,--sunk in a recess--height, the third +button o' my coat,--capacity, fourteen books. You couldn't get another +book on that shelf--no, not if you tried with a sledge-hammer, or a +hydraulic engine. Which is highly surprising when you consider that +fourteen books is the true, and exact number of books as I possess." + +"Very remarkable!" said Bellew. + +"Then again,--there's my comrade,--Peter Day (The Sergeant pronounced it +as though it were all one word). Sir, my comrade Peterday is a very +remarkable man,--most cobblers are. When he's not cobbling, he's +reading,--when not reading, he's cobbling, or mending clocks, and +watches, and, betwixt this and that, my comrade has picked up a power of +information,--though he lost his leg a doing of it--in a gale of +wind--off the Cape of Good Hope, for my comrade was a sailor, sir. +Consequently he is a handy man, most sailors are and makes his own +wooden legs, sir, he is also a musician--the tin whistle, sir,--and +here we are!" + +Saying which, the Sergeant halted, wheeled, opened a very small gate, +and ushered Bellew into a very small garden bright with flowers, beyond +which was a very small cottage indeed, through the open door of which +there issued a most appetizing odour, accompanied by a whistle, +wonderfully clear, and sweet, that was rendering "Tom Bowling" with many +shakes, trills, and astonishing runs. + +Peterday was busied at the fire with a long toasting-fork in his hand, +but, on their entrance, breaking off his whistling in the very middle of +a note, he sprang nimbly to his feet, (or rather, his foot), and stood +revealed as a short, yet strongly built man, with a face that, in one +way, resembled an island in that it was completely surrounded by hair, +and whisker. But it was, in all respects, a vastly pleasant island to +behold, despite the somewhat craggy prominences of chin, and nose, and +brow. In other words, it was a pleasing face notwithstanding the fierce, +thick eye-brows which were more than offset by the merry blue eyes, and +the broad, humourous mouth below. + +"Peterday," said the Sergeant, "Mr. Bel-lew!" + +"Glad to see you sir," said the mariner, saluting the visitor with a +quick bob of the head, and a backward scrape of the wooden leg. "You +couldn't make port at a better time, sir,--and because why?--because the +kettle's a biling, sir, the muffins is piping hot, and the shrimps is +a-laying hove to, waiting to be took aboard, sir." Saying which, +Peterday bobbed his head again, shook his wooden leg again, and turned +away to reach another cup and saucer. + +It was a large room for so small a cottage, and comfortably furnished, +with a floor of red tile, and with a grate at one end well raised up +from the hearth. Upon the hob a kettle sang murmurously, and on a trivet +stood a plate whereon rose a tower of toasted muffins. A round table +occupied the middle of the floor and was spread with a snowy cloth +whereon cups and saucers were arranged, while in the midst stood a great +bowl of shrimps. + +Now above the mantel-piece, that is to say, to the left of it, and +fastened to the wall, was a length of rope cunningly tied into what is +called a "running bowline," above this, on a shelf specially contrived +to hold it, was the model of a full-rigged ship that was--to all +appearances--making excellent way of it, with every stitch of canvas set +and drawing, alow and aloft; above this again, was a sextant, and a +telescope. Opposite all these, upon the other side of the mantel, were a +pair of stirrups, three pairs of spurs, two cavalry sabres, and a +carbine, while between these objects, in the very middle of the chimney, +uniting, as it were, the Army, and the Navy, was a portrait of +Queen Victoria. + +Bellew also noticed that each side of the room partook of the same +characteristics, one being devoted to things nautical, the other to +objects military. All this Bellew noticed while the soldier was brewing +the tea, and the sailor was bestowing the last finishing touches to +the muffins. + +"It aren't often as we're honoured wi' company, sir," said Peterday, as +they sat down, "is it, Dick?" + +"No," answered the Sergeant, handing Bellew the shrimps. + +"We ain't had company to tea," said Peterday, passing Bellew the +muffins, "no, we ain't had company to tea since the last time Miss +Anthea, and Miss Priscilla honoured us, have we, Dick?" + +"Honoured us," said the Sergeant, nodding his head approvingly, "is the +one, and only word for it, Peterday." + +"And the last time was this day twelve months, sir,--because +why?--because this day twelve months 'appened to be Miss Priscilla's +birthday,--consequently to-day is her birthday, likewise,--wherefore the +muffins, and wherefore the shrimps, sir, for they was this day to have +once more graced our board, Mr. Bellew." + +"'Graced our board,'" said the Sergeant, nodding his head again, +"'graced our board,' is the only expression for it, Peterday. But they +disappointed us, Mr. Bellew, sir,--on account of the sale." + +"Messmate," said Peterday, with a note of concern in his voice, "how's +the wind?" + +"Tolerable, comrade, tolerable!" + +"Then--why forget the tea?" + +"Tea!" said the Sergeant with a guilty start, "why--so I am!--Mr. Bellew +sir,--your pardon!" and, forthwith he began to pour out the tea very +solemnly, but with less precision of movement than usual, and with +abstracted gaze. + +"The Sergeant tells me you are a musician," said Bellew, as Peterday +handed him another muffin. + +"A musician,--me! think o' that now! To be sure, I do toot on the tin +whistle now and then, sir, such things as 'The British Grenadiers,' and +the 'Girl I left behind me,' for my shipmate, and 'The Bay o' Biscay,' +and 'A Life on the Ocean Wave,' for myself,--but a musician, Lord! Ye +see, sir," said Peterday, taking advantage of the Sergeant's +abstraction, and whispering confidentially behind his muffin, "that +messmate o' mine has such a high opinion o' my gifts as is fair +over-powering, and a tin whistle is only a tin whistle, after all." + +"And it is about the only instrument I could ever get the hang of," said +Bellew. + +"Why--do you mean as you play, sir?" + +"Hardly that, but I make a good bluff at it." + +"Why then,--I've got a couple o' very good whistles,--if you're so +minded we might try a doo-et, sir, arter tea." + +"With pleasure!" nodded Bellew. But, hereupon, Peterday noticing that +the Sergeant ate nothing, leaned over and touched him upon the shoulder. + +"How's the wind, now, Shipmate?" he enquired. + +"Why so so, Peterday, fairish! fairish!" said the Sergeant, stirring his +tea round and round, and with his gaze fixed upon the opposite wall. + +"Then messmate,--why not a muffin, or even a occasional shrimp,--where +be your appetite?" + +"Peterday," said the Sergeant, beginning to stir his tea faster than +ever, and with his eyes still fixed, "consequent upon disparaging +remarks having been passed by one Grimes,--our landlord,--concerning +them as should not be mentioned in a inn parlour--or anywhere else--by +such as said Grimes,--I was compelled to pour--a tankard of beer--over +said Grimes, our landlord,--this arternoon, Peterday, at exactly--twelve +and a half minutes past six, by my watch,--which done,--I ran our +landlord--out into the road, Peterday, say--half a minute later, which +would make it precisely thirteen minutes after the hour. Consequent upon +which, comrade--we have received our marching orders." + +"What messmate, is it heave our anchor, you mean?" + +"I mean, comrade--that on Saturday next, being the twenty-fifth +instant,--we march out--bag and baggage--horse, foot, and artillery,--we +evacuate our position--in face of superior force,--for good and +all, comrade." + +"Is that so, shipmate?" + +"It's rough on you, Peterday--it's hard on you, I'll admit, but things +were said, comrade--relative to--business troubles of one as we both +respect, Peterday,--things was said as called for--beer down the +neck,--and running out into the road, comrade. But it's rough on you, +Peterday seeing as you--like the Hussars at Assuan--was never engaged, +so to speak." + +"Aye, aye, Shipmate, that does ketch me,--all aback, shipmate. Why Lord! +I'd give a pound,--two pound--ah, ten!--just to have been astarn of him +wi' a rope's end,--though--come to think of it I'd ha' preferred a +capstan-bar." + +"Peterday," said the Sergeant removing his gaze from the wall with a +jerk, "on the twenty-fifth instant we shall be--without a roof to cover +us, and--all my doing. Peterday--what have you to say about it?" + +"Say, messmate,--why that you and me, honouring, and respecting two +ladies as deserves to be honoured, and respected, ain't going to let +such a small thing as this here cottage come betwixt us, and our +honouring and respecting of them two ladies. If, therefore, we are due +to quit this anchorage, why then it's all hands to the windlass with a +heave yo ho, and merrily! say I. Messmate,--my fist!" Hereupon, with a +very jerky movement indeed, the Sergeant reached out his remaining arm, +and the soldier and the sailor shook hands very solemnly over the +muffins (already vastly diminished in number) with a grip that +spoke much. + +"Peterday,--you have lifted a load off my heart--I thank ye +comrade,--and spoke like a true soldier. Peterday--the muffins!" + +So now the Sergeant, himself once more, fell to in turn, and they ate, +and drank, and laughed, and talked, until the shrimps were all gone, and +the muffins were things of the past. + +And now, declining all Bellew's offers of assistance, the soldier and +the sailor began washing, and drying, and putting away their crockery, +each in his characteristic manner,--the Sergeant very careful and exact, +while the sailor juggled cups and saucers with the sure-handed deftness +that seems peculiar to nautical fingers. + +"Yes, Peterday," said the Sergeant, hanging each cup upon its appointed +nail, and setting each saucer solicitously in the space reserved for it +on the small dresser, "since you have took our marching orders as you +have took 'em, I am quite reconciled to parting with these here snug +quarters, barring only--a book-shelf, and a cup-board." + +"Cupboard!" returned Peterday with a snort of disdain, "why there never +was such a ill-contrived, lubberly cupboard as that, in all the world; +you can't get at it unless you lay over to port,--on account o' the +clothes-press, and then hard a starboard,--on account o' the +dresser,--and then it being in the darkest corner--" + +"True Peterday, but then I'm used to it, and use is everything as you +know,--I can lay my hand upon anything--in a minute--watch me!" Saying +which, the Sergeant squeezed himself between the press and the dresser, +opened the cupboard, and took thence several articles which he named, +each in order. + +"A pair o' jack-boots,--two brushes,--blacking,--and a burnisher." +Having set these down, one by one, upon the dresser, he wheeled, and +addressed himself to Bellew, as follows: + +"Mr. Bellew, sir,--this evening being the anniversary of a +certain--event, sir, I will ask you--to excuse me--while I make the +necessary preparations--to honour this anniversary--as is ever my +custom." As he ended, he dropped the two brushes, the blacking, and the +burnisher inside the legs of the boots, picked them up with a sweep of +the arm, and, turning short round, strode out into the little garden. + +"A fine fellow is Dick, sir!" nodded Peterday, beginning to fill a long +clay pipe, "Lord!--what a sailor he 'd ha' made, to be sure!--failing +which he's as fine a soldier as ever was, or will be, with enough +war-medals to fill my Sunday hat, sir. When he lost his arm they gave +him the V.C., and his discharge, sir,--because why--because a soldier +wi' one arm ain't any more good than a sailor wi' one leg, d'ye see. So +they tried to discharge Dick, but--Lord love you!--they couldn't, +sir,--because why?--because Dick were a soldier bred and born, and is as +much a soldier to-day, as ever he was,--ah! and always will be--until he +goes marching aloft,--like poor Tom Bowling,--until one as is General of +all the armies, and Admiral of all the fleets as ever sailed, shall call +the last muster roll, sir. At this present moment, sir," continued the +sailor, lighting his pipe with a live coal from the fire, "my messmate +is a-sitting to the leeward o' the plum tree outside, a polishing of his +jack-boots,--as don't need polishing, and a burnishing of his spurs,--as +don't need burnishing. And because why?--because he goes on guard, +to-night, according to custom." + +"On guard!" repeated Bellew, "I'm afraid I don't understand." + +"Of course you don't, sir," chuckled Peterday, "well then, to-night he +marches away--in full regimentals, sir,--to mount guard. And--where, do +you suppose?--why, I'll tell you,--under Miss Priscilla's window! He +gets there as the clock is striking eleven, and there he stays, a +marching to and fro, until twelve o'clock. Which does him a world o' +good, sir, and noways displeases Miss Priscilla,--because why?--because +she don't know nothing whatever about it." Hereupon, Peterday rose, and +crossing to a battered sea-man's chest in the corner, came back with +three or four tin whistles which he handed to Bellew, who laid aside his +pipe, and, having selected one, ran tentatively up and down the scale +while Peterday listened attentive of ear, and beaming of face. + +"Sir," said he, "what do you say to 'Annie Laurie' as a start--shall we +give 'em 'Annie Laurie'?--very good!--ready?--go!" + +Thus, George Bellew, American citizen, and millionaire, piped away on a +tin whistle with all the gusto in the world,--introducing little trills, +and flourishes, here and there, that fairly won the one-legged +sailor's heart. + +They had already "given 'em" three or four selections, each of which had +been vociferously encored by Peterday, or Bellew,--and had just finished +an impassioned rendering of the "Suwanee River," when the Sergeant +appeared with his boots beneath his arm. + +"Shipmate!" cried Peterday, flourishing his whistle, "did ye ever hear a +tin whistle better played, or mellerer in tone?" + +"Meller--is the only word for it, comrade,--and your playing sirs, +is--artistic--though doleful. P'raps you wouldn't mind giving us +something brighter--a rattling quick-step? P'raps you might remember one +as begins: + + 'Some talk of Alexander + And some, of Hercules;' + +if it wouldn't be troubling you too much?" + +Forthwith they burst forth into "The British Grenadiers?" and never did +tin whistles render the famous old tune with more fire, and dash. As the +stirring notes rang out, the Sergeant, standing upon the hearth, seemed +to grow taller, his broad chest expanded, his eyes glowed, a flush crept +up into his cheek, and the whole man thrilled to the music as he had +done, many a time and oft, in years gone by. As the last notes died +away, he glanced down at the empty sleeve pinned across his breast, +shook his head, and thanking them in a very gruff voice indeed, turned +on his heel, and busied himself at his little cupboard. Peterday now +rose, and set a jug together with three glasses upon the table, also +spoons, and a lemon, keeping his "weather-eye" meanwhile, upon the +kettle,--which last, condescending to boil obligingly, he rapped three +times with his wooden leg. + +"Right O, shipmate!" he cried, very much as though he had been hailing +the "main-top," whereupon the Sergeant emerged from between the +clothes-press and the dresser with a black bottle in his hand, which he +passed over to Peterday who set about brewing what he called a "jorum o' +grog," the savour of which filled the place with a right pleasant +fragrance. And, when the glasses brimmed, each with a slice of lemon +a-top,--the Sergeant solemnly rose. + +"Mr. Bellew, and comrade," said he, lifting his glass, "I give you--Miss +Priscilla!" + +"God bless her!" said Peterday. + +"Amen!" added Bellew. So the toast was drunk,--the glasses were emptied, +re-filled, and emptied again,--this time more slowly, and, the clock +striking nine, Bellew rose to take his leave. Seeing which, the Sergeant +fetched his hat and stick, and volunteered to accompany him a little +way. So when Bellew had shaken the sailor's honest hand, they set +out together. + +"Sergeant," said Bellew, after they had walked some distance, "I have a +message for you." + +"For me, sir?" + +"From Miss Priscilla." + +"From--indeed, sir!" + +"She bid me tell you that--the peaches are riper to-night than ever they +were." + +The Sergeant seemed to find in this a subject for profound thought, and +he strode on beside Bellew very silently, and with his eyes straight +before him. + +"'That the peaches were riper,--to-night,--than ever they were?'" said +he at last. + +"Yes, Sergeant." + +"Riper!" said the Sergeant, as though turning this over in his mind. + +"Riper than ever they were!" nodded Bellew. + +"The--peaches, I think, sir?" + +"The peaches, yes." Bellew heard the Sergeant's finger rasping to and +fro across his shaven chin. + +"Mr. Bellew, sir--she is a--very remarkable woman, sir!" + +"Yes, Sergeant!" + +"A--wonderful woman!" + +"Yes, Sergeant!" + +"The kind of woman that--improves with age, sir!" + +"Yes, Sergeant." + +"Talking of--peaches, sir, I've often thought--she is--very like a +peach--herself, sir." + +"Very, Sergeant, but--" + +"Well, sir?" + +"Peaches do--_not_ improve with age, Sergeant,--'and the peaches +are--riper than ever they were,--to-night!'" The Sergeant stopped short, +and stared at Bellew wide-eyed. + +"Why--sir," said he very slowly, "you don't mean to say you--think as +she--meant--that--?" + +"But I do!" nodded Bellew. And now, just as suddenly as he had stopped, +the Sergeant turned, and went on again. + +"Lord!" he whispered--"Lord! Lord!" + +The moon was rising, and looking at the Sergeant, Bellew saw that there +was a wonderful light in his face, yet a light that was not of the moon. + +"Sergeant," said Bellew, laying a hand upon his shoulder, "why don't you +speak to her?" + +"Speak to her,--what me! No, no, Mr. Bellew!" said the Sergeant, +hastily. "No, no,--can't be done, sir,--not to be mentioned, or thought +of, sir!" The light was all gone out of his face, now, and he walked +with his chin on his breast. + +"The surprising thing to me, Sergeant, is that you have never thought of +putting your fortune to the test, and--speaking your mind to her, +before now." + +"Thought of it, sir!" repeated the Sergeant, bitterly, "thought of +it!--Lord, sir! I've thought of it--these five years--and more. I've +thought of it--day and night. I've thought of it so very much that I +know--I never can--speak my mind to her. Look at me!" he cried suddenly, +wheeling and confronting Bellew, but not at all like his bold, erect, +soldierly self,--"Yes, look at me,--a poor, battered, old soldier--with +his--best arm gone,--left behind him in India, and with nothing in the +world but his old uniform,--getting very frayed and worn,--like himself, +sir,--a pair o' jack boots, likewise very much worn, though wonderfully +patched, here and there, by my good comrade, Peterday,--a handful of +medals, and a very modest pension. Look at me, with the best o' my days +behind me, and wi' only one arm left--and I'm a deal more awkward and +helpless with that one arm than you'd think, sir,--look at me, and then +tell me how could such a man dare to speak his mind to--such a woman. +What right has--such a man to even think of speaking his mind to--such a +woman, when there's part o' that man already in the grave? Why, no +right, sir,--none in the world. Poverty, and one arm, are facts as make +it impossible for that man to--ever speak his mind. And, sir--that +man--never will. Sir,--good night to you!--and a pleasant walk!--I turn +back here." + +Which the Sergeant did, then and there, wheeling sharp right about face; +yet, as Bellew watched him go, he noticed that the soldier's step was +heavy, and slow, and it seemed that, for once, the Sergeant had even +forgotten to put on his imaginary spurs. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +_In which Adam explains_ + +"Adam!" + +"Yes, Miss Anthea." + +"How much money did Mr. Bellew give you to--buy the furniture?" + +Miss Anthea was sitting in her great elbow chair, leaning forward with +her chin in her hand, looking at him in the way which always seemed to +Adam as though she could see into the verimost recesses of his mind. +Therefore Adam twisted his hat in his hands, and stared at the ceiling, +and the floor, and the table before Miss Anthea, and the wall behind +Miss Anthea--anywhere but at Miss Anthea. + +"You ax me--how much it were, Miss Anthea?" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"Well,--it were a goodish sum." + +"Was it--fifty pounds?" + +"Fifty pound!" repeated Adam, in a tone of lofty disdain, "no, Miss +Anthea, it were _not_ fifty pound." + +"Do you mean it was--more?" + +"Ah!" nodded Adam, "I mean as it were a sight more. If you was to take +the fifty pound you mention, add twenty more, and then another twenty to +that, and then come ten more to that,--why then--you'd be a bit nigher +the figure--" + +"A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Anthea, aghast. + +"Ah! a hundred pound!" nodded Adam, rolling the words upon his tongue +with great gusto,--"one--hundred--pound, were the sum, Miss Anthea." + +"Oh, Adam!" + +"Lord love you, Miss Anthea!--that weren't nothing,--that were only a +flea-bite, as you might say,--he give more--ah! nigh double as much as +that for the side-board." + +"Nonsense, Adam!" + +"It be gospel true, Miss Anthea. That there sideboard were the plum o' +the sale, so to speak, an' old Grimes had set 'is 'eart on it, d'ye see. +Well, it were bid up to eighty-six pound, an' then Old Grimes 'e goes +twenty more, making it a hundred an' six. Then--jest as I thought it +were all over, an' jest as that there Old Grimes were beginning to swell +hisself up wi' triumph, an' get that red in the face as 'e were a sight +to behold,--Mr. Belloo, who'd been lightin' 'is pipe all this time, up +and sez,--'Fifty up!' 'e sez in his quiet way, making it a hundred an' +fifty-six pound, Miss Anthea,--which were too much for Grimes,--Lord! I +thought as that there man were going to burst, Miss Anthea!" and Adam +gave vent to his great laugh at the mere recollection. But Anthea was +grave enough, and the troubled look in her eyes quickly sobered him. + +"A hundred and fifty-six pounds!" she repeated in an awed voice, "but +it--it is awful!" + +"Steepish!" admitted Adam, "pretty steepish for a old sideboard, I'll +allow, Miss Anthea,--but you see it were a personal matter betwixt +Grimes an' Mr. Belloo. I began to think as they never would ha' left off +biddin', an' by George!--I don't believe as Mr. Belloo ever would have +left off biddin'. Ye see, there's summat about Mr. Belloo,--whether it +be his voice, or his eye, or his chin,--I don't know,--but there be +summat about him as says, very distinct that if so be 'e should 'appen +to set 'is mind on a thing,--why 'e's a-going to get it, an' 'e ain't +a-going to give in till 'e do get it. Ye see, Miss Anthea, 'e's so very +quiet in 'is ways, an' speaks so soft, an' gentle,--p'raps that's it. +Say, for instance, 'e were to ax you for summat, an' you said +'No'--well, 'e wouldn't make no fuss about it,--not 'im,--he'd +jest--take it, that's what he'd do. As for that there sideboard he'd a +sat there a bidding and a bidding all night I do believe." + +"But, Adam, why did he do it! Why did he buy--all that furniture?" + +"Well,--to keep it from being took away, p'raps!" + +"Oh, Adam!--what am I to do?" + +"Do, Miss Anthea?" + +"The mortgage must be paid off--dreadfully soon--you know that, and--I +can't--Oh, I can't give the money back--" + +"Why--give it back!--No, a course not, Miss Anthea!" + +"But I--can't--keep it!" + +"Can't keep it, Miss Anthea mam,--an' why not?" + +"Because I'm very sure he doesn't want all those things,--the idea is +quite--absurd! And yet,--even if the hops do well, the money they bring +will hardly be enough by itself, and so--I was selling my furniture to +make it up, and--now--Oh! what am I to do?" and she leaned her head +wearily upon her hand. + +Now, seeing her distress, Adam all sturdy loyalty that he was, must +needs sigh in sympathy, and fell, once more, to twisting his hat until +he had fairly wrung it out of all semblance to its kind, twisting and +screwing it between his strong hands as though he would fain wring out +of it some solution to the problem that so perplexed his mistress. Then, +all at once, the frown vanished from his brow, his grip loosened upon +his unfortunate hat, and his eye brightened with a sudden gleam. + +"Miss Anthea," said he, drawing a step nearer, and lowering his voice +mysteriously, "supposing as I was to tell you that 'e did want that +furnitur',--ah! an' wanted it bad?" + +"Now how can he, Adam? It isn't as though he lived in England," said +Anthea, shaking her head, "his home is thousands of miles away,--he is +an American, and besides--" + +"Ah!--but then--even a American--may get married. Miss Anthea, mam!" +said Adam. + +"Married!" she repeated, glancing up very quickly, "Adam--what do you +mean?" + +"Why you must know," began Adam, wringing at his hat again, "ever since +the day I found him asleep in your hay, Miss Anthea, mam, Mr. Belloo has +been very kind, and--friendly like. Mr. Belloo an' me 'ave smoked a good +many sociable pipes together, an' when men smoke together, Miss Anthea, +they likewise talk together." + +"Yes?--Well?" said Anthea, rather breathlessly, and taking up a pencil +that happened to be lying near to hand. + +"And Mr. Belloo," continued Adam, heavily, "Mr. Belloo has done +me--the--the honour," here Adam paused to give an extra twist to his +hat,--"the--honour, Miss Anthea--" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"Of confiding to me 'is 'opes--" said Adam slowly, finding it much +harder to frame his well-meaning falsehood than he had supposed, +"his--H-O-P-E-S--'opes, Miss Anthea, of settling down very soon, an' of +marryin' a fine young lady as 'e 'as 'ad 'is eye on a goodish +time,--'aving knowed her from childhood's hour, Miss Anthea, and as +lives up to Lonnon--" + +"Yes--Adam!" + +"Consequently--'e bought all your furnitur' to set up 'ousekeepin', +don't ye see." + +"Yes,--I see, Adam!" Her voice was low, soft and gentle as ever, but the +pencil was tracing meaningless scrawls in her shaking fingers. + +"So you don't 'ave to be no-wise back-ard about keepin' the money, Miss +Anthea." + +"Oh no,--no, of course not, I--I understand, it was--just a--business +transaction." + +"Ah!--that's it,--a business transaction!" nodded Adam, "So you'll put +the money a one side to help pay off the mortgage, eh, Miss Anthea?" + +"Yes." + +"If the 'ops comes up to what they promise to come up to,--you'll be +able to get rid of Old Grimes--for good an' all, Miss Anthea." + +"Yes, Adam." + +"An' you be quite easy in your mind, now, Miss Anthea--about keepin' the +money?" + +"Quite!--Thank you, Adam--for--telling me. You can go now." + +"Why then--Good-night! Miss Anthea, mam,--the mortgage is as good as +paid,--there ain't no such 'ops nowhere near so good as our'n be. +An'--you're quite free o' care, an' 'appy 'earted, Miss Anthea?" + +"Quite--Oh quite, Adam!" + +But when Adam's heavy tread had died away,--when she was all alone, she +behaved rather strangely for one so free of care, and happy-hearted. +Something bright and glistening splashed upon the paper before her, the +pencil slipped from her fingers, and, with a sudden, choking cry, she +swayed forward, and hid her face in her hands. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +_In which Adam proposes a game_ + +"To be, or not to be!" Bellew leaned against the mighty bole of "King +Arthur," and stared up at the moon with knitted brows. "That is the +question!--whether I shall brave the slings, and arrows and things, +and--speak tonight, and have done with it--one way or another, or live +on, a while, secure in this uncertainty? To wait? Whether I shall, at +this so early stage, pit all my chances of happiness against the chances +of--losing her, and with her--Small Porges, bless him! and all the +quaint, and lovable beings of this wonderful Arcadia of mine. For, if +her answer be 'No,'--what recourse have I,--what is there left me but to +go wandering forth again, following the wind, and with the gates of +Arcadia shut upon me for ever? 'To be, or not to be,--that is the +question!'" + +"Be that you, Mr. Belloo, sir?" + +"Even so, Adam. Come sit ye a while, good knave, and gaze upon Dian's +loveliness, and smoke, and let us converse of dead kings." + +"Why, kings ain't much in my line, sir,--living or dead uns,--me never +'aving seen any--except a pic'ter,--and that tore, though very life +like. But why I were a lookin' for you was to ax you to back me up,--an' +to--play the game, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"Why--as to that, my good Adam,--my gentle Daphnis,--my rugged +Euphemio,--you may rely upon me to the uttermost. Are you in trouble? Is +it counsel you need, or only money? Fill your pipe, and, while you +smoke, confide your cares to me,--put me wise, or, as your French +cousins would say,--make me 'au fait.'" + +"Well," began Adam, when his pipe was well alight, "in the first place, +Mr. Belloo sir, I begs to remind you, as Miss Anthea sold her furnitur' +to raise enough money as with what the 'ops will bring, might go to pay +off the mortgage,--for good an' all, sir." + +"Yes." + +"Well, to-night, sir, Miss Anthea calls me into the parlour to ax,--or +as you might say,--en-quire as to the why, an' likewise the wherefore +of you a buyin' all that furnitur'." + +"Did she, Adam?" + +"Ah!--'why did 'e do it?' says she--'well, to keep it from bein' took +away, p'raps,' says I--sharp as any gimblet, sir." + +"Good!" nodded Bellew. + +"Ah!--but it weren't no good, sir," returned Adam, "because she sez as +'ow your 'ome being in America, you couldn't really need the +furnitur',--nor yet want the furnitur',--an' blest if she wasn't talkin' +of handing you the money back again." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"Seeing which, sir, an' because she must have that money if she 'opes to +keep the roof of Dapplemere over 'er 'ead, I, there an' then, made +up,--or as you might say,--concocted a story, a anecdote, or a +yarn,--upon the spot, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"Most excellent Machiavelli!--proceed!" + +"I told her, sir, as you bought that furnitur' on account of you being +wishful to settle down,--whereat she starts, an' looks at me wi' her +eyes big, an' surprised-like. I told 'er, likewise, as you had told me +on the quiet,--or as you might say,--con-fi-dential, that you bought +that furnitur' to set up 'ouse-keeping on account o' you being on the +p'int o' marrying a fine young lady up to Lonnon,--" + +"What!" Bellew didn't move, nor did he raise his voice,--nevertheless +Adam started back, and instinctively threw up his arm. + +"You--told her--that?" + +"I did sir." + +"But you knew it was a--confounded lie." + +"Aye,--I knowed it. But I'd tell a hundred,--ah! thousands o' lies, +con-founded, or otherwise,--to save Miss Anthea." + +"To save her?" + +"From ruination, sir! From losing Dapplemere Farm, an' every thing she +has in the world. Lord love ye!--the 'ops can never bring in by +theirselves all the three thousand pounds as is owing,--it ain't to be +expected,--but if that three thousand pound ain't paid over to that +dirty Grimes by next Saturday week as ever was, that dirty Grimes turns +Miss Anthea out o' Dapplemere, wi' Master Georgy, an' poor little Miss +Priscilla,--An' what'll become o' them then,--I don't know. Lord! when I +think of it the 'Old Adam' do rise up in me to that extent as I'm minded +to take a pitch-fork and go and skewer that there Grimes to his own +chimbley corner. Ye see Mr. Belloo sir," he went on, seeing Bellew was +silent still, "Miss Anthea be that proud, an' independent that she'd +never ha' took your money, sir, if I hadn't told her that there lie,--so +that's why I did tell her that here lie." + +"I see," nodded Bellew, "I see!--yes,--you did quite right. You acted +for the best, and you--did quite right, Adam,--yes, quite right" + +"Thankee sir!" + +"And so--this is the game I am to play, is it?" + +"That's it, sir; if she ax's you,--'are you goin' to get +married?'--you'll tell her 'yes,--to a lady as you've knowed from your +childhood's hour,--living in Lonnon,'--that's all, sir." + +"That's all is it, Adam!" said Bellew slowly, turning to look up at the +moon again. "It doesn't sound very much, does it? Well, I'll play your +game,--Adam,--yes, you may depend upon me." + +"Thankee, Mr. Belloo sir,--thankee sir!--though I do 'ope as you'll +excuse me for taking such liberties, an' making so free wi' your 'eart, +and your affections, sir?" + +"Oh certainly, Adam!--the cause excuses--everything." + +"Then, good-night, sir!" + +"Good-night, Adam!" + +So this good, well-meaning Adam strode away, proud on the whole of his +night's work, leaving Bellew to frown up at the moon with teeth clenched +tight upon his pipe-stem. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +_How Bellew began the game_ + +Now in this life of ours, there be games of many, and divers, sorts, and +all are calculated to try the nerve, courage, or skill of the player, as +the case may be. Bellew had played many kinds of games in his day, and, +among others, had once been famous as a Eight Tackle on the Harvard +Eleven. Upon him he yet bore certain scars received upon a memorable day +when Yale, flushed with success, saw their hitherto invincible line rent +and burst asunder, saw a figure torn, bruised, and bleeding, flash out +and away down the field to turn defeat into victory, and then to be +borne off honourably to hospital, and bed. + +If Bellew thought of this, by any chance, as he sat there, staring up at +the moon, it is very sure that, had the choice been given him, he would +joyfully have chosen the game of torn flesh, and broken bones, or any +other game, no matter how desperate, rather than this particular game +that Adam had invented, and thrust upon him. + +Presently Bellew knocked the ashes from his pipe, and rising, walked on +slowly toward the house. As he approached, he heard someone playing the +piano, and the music accorded well with his mood, or his mood with the +music, for it was haunting, and very sweet, and with a recurring melody +in a minor key, that seemed to voice all the sorrow of Humanity, past, +present, and to come. + +Drawn by the music, he crossed the Rose Garden, and reaching the +terrace, paused there; for the long French windows were open, and, from +where he stood, he could see Anthea seated at the piano. She was dressed +in a white gown of some soft, clinging material, and among the heavy +braids of her hair was a single great, red rose. And, as he watched, he +thought she had never looked more beautiful than now, with the soft glow +of the candles upon her; for her face reflected the tender sadness of +the music, it was in the mournful droop of her scarlet lips, and the +sombre depths of her eyes. Close beside her sat little Miss Priscilla +busy with her needle as usual, but now she paused, and lifting her head +in her quick, bird-like way, looked up at Anthea, long, and fixedly. + +"Anthea my dear," said she suddenly, "I'm fond of music, and I love to +hear you play, as you know,--but I never heard you play quite +so--dolefully? dear me, no,--that's not the right word,--nor +dismal,--but I mean something between the two." + +"I thought you were fond of Grieg, Aunt Priscilla." + +"So I am, but then, even in his gayest moments, poor Mr. Grieg was +always breaking his heart over something, or other. And-- +Gracious!--there's Mr. Bellew at the window. Pray come in, Mr. Bellew, +and tell us how you liked Peterday, and the muffins?" + +"Thank you!" said Bellew, stepping in through the long French window, +"but I should like to hear Miss Anthea play again, first, if she will?" + +But Anthea, who had already risen from the piano, shook her head: + +"I only play when I feel like it,--to please myself,--and Aunt +Priscilla," said she, crossing to the broad, low window-seat, and +leaning out into the fragrant night. + +"Why then," said Bellew, sinking into the easy-chair that Miss Priscilla +indicated with a little stab of her needle, "why then the muffins were +delicious, Aunt Priscilla, and Peterday was just exactly what a +one-legged mariner ought to be." + +"And the shrimps, Mr. Bellew?" enquired Miss Priscilla, busy at her +sewing again. + +"Out-shrimped all other shrimps so ever!" he answered, glancing to where +Anthea sat with her chin propped in her hand, gazing up at the waning +moon, seemingly quite oblivious of him. + +"And did--_He_--pour out the tea?" enquired Miss Priscilla, "from the +china pot with the blue flowers and the Chinese Mandarin fanning +himself,--and very awkward, of course, with his one hand,--I don't mean +the Mandarin, Mr. Bellew,--and very full of apologies?" + +"He did." + +"Just as usual; yes he always does,--and every year he gives me three +lumps of sugar,--and I only take one, you know. It's a pity," sighed +Miss Priscilla, "that it was his right arm,--a great pity!" And here she +sighed again, and, catching herself, glanced up quickly at Bellew, and +smiled to see how completely absorbed he was in contemplation of the +silent figure in the window-seat. "But, after all, better a right +arm--than a leg," she pursued,--"at least, I think so!" + +"Certainly!" murmured Bellew. + +"A man with only one leg, you see, would be almost as helpless as +an--old woman with a crippled foot,--" + +"Who grows younger, and brighter, every year!" added Bellew, turning to +her with his pleasant smile, "yes, and I think,--prettier!" + +"Oh, Mr. Bellew!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla shaking her head at him +reprovingly, yet looking pleased, none the less,--"how can you be so +ridiculous,--Good gracious me!" + +"Why, it was the Sergeant who put it into my head,--" + +"The Sergeant?" + +"Yes,--it was after I had given him your message about peaches, Aunt +Priscilla and--" + +"Oh dear heart!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, at this juncture, "Prudence +is out, to-night, and I promised to bake the bread for her, and here I +sit chatting, and gossipping while that bread goes rising, and rising +all over the kitchen!" And Miss Priscilla laid aside her sewing, and +catching up her stick, hurried to the door. + +"And I was almost forgetting to wish you 'many happy returns of the day, +Aunt Priscilla!'" said Bellew, rising. + +At this familiar appellation, Anthea turned sharply, in time to see him +stoop, and kiss Miss Priscilla's small, white hand; whereupon Anthea +must needs curl her lip at his broad back. Then he opened the door, and +Miss Priscilla tapped away, even more quickly than usual. + +Anthea was half-sitting, half-kneeling among the cushions in the corner +of the deep window, apparently still lost in contemplation of the moon. +So much so, that she did not stir, or even lower her up-ward gaze, when +Bellew came, and stood beside her. + +Therefore, taking advantage of the fixity of her regard, he, once more, +became absorbed in her loveliness. Surely a most unwise proceeding--in +Arcadia, by the light of a midsummer moon! And he mentally contrasted +the dark, proud beauty of her face, with that of all the women he had +ever known,--to their utter, and complete disparagement. + +"Well?" enquired Anthea, at last, perfectly conscious of his look, and +finding the silence growing irksome, yet still with her eyes +averted,--"Well, Mr. Bellew?" + +"On the contrary," he answered, "the moon is on the wane!" + +"The moon!" she repeated, "Suppose it is,--what then?" + +"True happiness can only come riding astride the full moon you +know,--you remember old Nannie told us so." + +"And you--believed it?" she enquired scornfully. + +"Why, of course!" he answered in his quiet way. + +Anthea didn't speak but, once again, the curl of her lip was eloquent. + +"And so," he went on, quite unabashed, "when I behold Happiness riding +astride the full moon, I shall just reach up, in the most natural manner +in the world, and--take it down, that it may abide with me, world +without end." + +"Do you think you will be tall enough?" + +"We shall see,--when the time comes." + +"I think it's all very ridiculous!" said Anthea. + +"Why then--suppose you play for me, that same, plaintive piece you were +playing as I came in,--something of Grieg's I think it was,--will you, +Miss Anthea?" + +She was on the point of refusing, then, as if moved by some capricious +whim, she crossed to the piano, and dashed into the riotous music of a +Polish Dance. As the wild notes leapt beneath her quick, brown fingers, +Bellew, seated near-by, kept his eyes upon the great, red rose in her +hair, that nodded slyly at him with her every movement. And surely, in +all the world, there had never bloomed a more tantalizing, more wantonly +provoking rose than this! Wherefore Bellew, very wisely, turned his eyes +from its glowing temptation. Doubtless observing which, the rose, in +evident desperation, nodded, and swayed, until, it had fairly nodded +itself from its sweet resting-place, and, falling to the floor, lay +within Bellew's reach. Whereupon, he promptly stooped, and picked it up, +and,--even as, with a last, crashing chord, Anthea ceased playing, and +turned, in that same moment he dropped it deftly into his coat pocket. + +"Oh! by the way, Mr. Bellew," she said, speaking as if the idea had but +just entered her mind, "what do you intend to do about--all your +furniture?" + +"Do about it?" he repeated, settling the rose carefully in a corner of +his pocket where it would not be crushed by his pipe. + +"I mean--where would you like it--stored until you can send, and have +it--taken away?" + +"Well,--I--er--rather thought of keeping it--where it was if you didn't +mind." + +"I'm afraid that will be--impossible, Mr. Bellew." + +"Why then the barn will be an excellent place for it, I don't suppose +the rats and mice will do it any real harm, and as for the damp, and +the dust--" + +"Oh! you know what I mean!" exclaimed Anthea, beginning to tap the floor +impatiently with her foot. "Of course we can't go on using the things +now that they are your property, it--wouldn't be--right." + +"Very well," he nodded, his fingers questing anxiously after the rose +again, "I'll get Adam to help me to shift it all into the barn, +to-morrow morning." + +"Will you please be serious, Mr. Bellew!" + +"As an owl!" he nodded. + +"Why then--of course you will be leaving Dapplemere soon, and I should +like to know exactly when, so that I can--make the necessary +arrangements." + +"But you see, I am not leaving Dapplemere soon or even thinking of it." + +"Not?" she repeated, glancing up at him in swift surprise. + +"Not until--you bid me." + +"I?" + +"You!" + +"But I--I understood that you--intend to--settle down?" + +"Certainly!" nodded Bellew, transferring his pipe to another pocket +altogether, lest it should damage the rose's tender petals. "To settle +down has lately become the--er--ambition of my life." + +"Then pray," said Anthea, taking up a sheet of music, and beginning to +study it with attentive eyes, "be so good as to tell me--what you mean." + +"That necessarily brings us back to the moon again," answered Bellew. + +"The moon?" + +"The moon!" + +"But what in the world has the moon to do with your furniture?" she +demanded, her foot beginning to tap again. + +"Everything!--I bought that furniture with--er--with one eye on the +moon, as it were,--consequently the furniture, the moon, and I, are +bound indissolubly together." + +"You are pleased to talk in riddles, to-night, and really, Mr. Bellew, I +have no time to waste over them, so, if you will excuse me--" + +"Thank you for playing to me," he said, as he held the door open for +her. + +"I played because I--I felt like it, Mr. Bellew." + +"Nevertheless, I thank you." + +"When you make up your mind about--the furniture,--please let me know." + +"When the moon is at the full, yes." + +"Can it be possible that you are still harping on the wild words of poor +old Nannie?" she exclaimed, and once more, she curled her lip at him. + +"Nannie is very old, I'll admit," he nodded, "but surely you remember +that we proved her right in one particular,--I mean about the Tiger +Mark, you know." + +Now, when he said this, for no apparent reason, the eyes that had +hitherto been looking into his, proud and scornful,--wavered, and were +hidden under their long, thick lashes; the colour flamed in her cheeks, +and, without another word, she was gone. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +_How the Sergeant went upon his guard_ + +The Arcadians, one and all, generally follow that excellent maxim which +runs: + +"Early to bed, and early to rise Makes a man healthy, and wealthy, and +wise." + +Healthy they are, beyond a doubt, and, in their quaint, simple fashion, +profoundly wise. If they are not extraordinarily wealthy, yet are they +generally blessed with contented minds which, after all, is better than +money, and far more to be desired than fine gold. + +Now whether their general health, happiness, and wisdom is to be +attributed altogether to their early to bed proclivities, is perhaps a +moot question. Howbeit, to-night, long after these weary Arcadians had +forgotten their various cares, and troubles in the blessed oblivion of +sleep, (for even Arcadia has its troubles) Bellew sat beneath the shade +of "King Arthur" alone with his thoughts. + +Presently, however, he was surprised to hear the house-door open, and +close very softly, and to behold--not the object of his meditations, but +Miss Priscilla coming towards him. + +As she caught sight of him in the shadow of the tree, she stopped and +stood leaning upon her stick as though she were rather disconcerted. + +"Aunt Priscilla!" said he, rising. + +"Oh!--it's you?" she exclaimed, just as though she hadn't known it all +along. "Dear me! Mr. Bellew,--how lonely you look, and dreadfully +thoughtful,--good gracious!" and she glanced up at him with her quick, +girlish smile. "I suppose you are wondering what I am doing out here at +this unhallowed time of night--it must be nearly eleven o'clock. Oh dear +me!--yes you are!--Well, sit down, and I'll tell you. Let us sit +here,--in the darkest corner,--there. Dear heart!--how bright the moon +is to be sure." So saying, Miss Priscilla ensconced herself at the very +end of the rustic bench, where the deepest shadow lay. + +"Well, Mr. Bellew," she began, "as you know, to-day is my birthday. As +to my age, I am--let us say,--just turned twenty-one and, being young, +and foolish, Mr. Bellew, I have come out here to watch another very +foolish person,--a ridiculous, old Sergeant of Hussars, who will come +marching along, very soon, to mount guard in full regimentals, Mr. +Bellew,--with his busby on his head, with his braided tunic and dolman, +and his great big boots, and with his spurs jingling, and his sabre +bright under the moon." + +"So then--you know he comes?" + +"Why of course I do. And I love to hear the jingle of his spurs, and to +watch the glitter of his sabre. So, every year, I come here, and sit +among the shadows, where he can't see me, and watch him go march, march, +marching up and down, and to and fro, until the clock strikes twelve, +and he goes marching home again. Oh dear me!--it's all very foolish, of +course,--but I love to hear the jingle of his spurs." + +"And--have you sat here watching him, every year?" + +"Every year!" + +"And he has never guessed you were watching him?" + +"Good gracious me!--of course not." + +"Don't you think, Aunt Priscilla, that you are--just a little--cruel?" + +"Cruel--why--what do you mean?" + +"I gave him your message, Aunt Priscilla." + +"What message?" + +"That 'to-night, the peaches were riper than ever they were.'" + +"Oh!" said Miss Priscilla, and waited expectantly for Bellew to +continue. But, as he was silent she glanced at him, and seeing him +staring at the moon, she looked at it, also. And after she had gazed for +perhaps half a minute, as Bellew was still silent, she spoke, though in +a very small voice indeed. + +"And--what did--he say?" + +"Who?" enquired Bellew. + +"Why the--the Sergeant, to be sure." + +"Well, he gave me to understand that a poor, old soldier with only one +arm left him, must be content to stand aside, always and--hold his +peace, just because he was a poor, maimed, old soldier. Don't you think +that you have been--just a little cruel--all these years, Aunt +Priscilla?" + +"Sometimes--one is cruel--only to be--kind!" she answered. + +"Aren't the peaches ripe enough, after all, Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Over-ripe!" she said bitterly, "Oh--they are over-ripe!" + +"Is that all, Aunt Priscilla?" + +"No," she answered, "no, there's--this!" and she held up her little +crutch stick. + +"Is that all, Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Oh!--isn't--that enough?" Bellew rose. "Where are you going--What are +you going to do?" she demanded. + +"Wait!" said he, smiling down at her perplexity, and so he turned, and +crossed to a certain corner of the orchard. When he came back he held +out a great, glowing peach towards her. + +"You were quite right," he nodded, "it was so ripe that it fell at a +touch." + +But, as he spoke, she drew him down beside her in the shadow: + +"Hush!" she whispered, "Listen!" + +Now as they sat there, very silent,--faint and far-away upon the still +night air, they heard a sound; a silvery, rhythmic sound, it was,--like +the musical clash of fairy cymbals which drew rapidly nearer, and +nearer; and Bellew felt that Miss Priscilla's hand was trembling upon +his arm as she leaned forward, listening with a smile upon her parted +lips, and a light in her eyes that was ineffably tender. + +Nearer came the sound, and nearer, until, presently, now in moonlight, +now in shadow, there strode a tall, martial figure in all the glory of +braided tunic, and furred dolman, the three chevrons upon his sleeve, +and many shining medals upon his breast,--a stalwart, soldierly figure, +despite the one empty sleeve, who moved with the long, swinging stride +that only the cavalry-man can possess. Being come beneath a certain +latticed window, the Sergeant halted, and, next moment, his glittering +sabre flashed up to the salute; then, with it upon his shoulder, he +wheeled, and began to march up and down, his spurs jingling, his sabre +gleaming, his dolman swinging, his sabre glittering, each time he +wheeled; while Miss Priscilla leaning forward, watched him wide-eyed, +and with hands tight clasped. Then, all at once,--with a little +fluttering sigh she rose. + +Thus, the Sergeant as he marched to and fro, was suddenly aware of one +who stood in the full radiance of the moon,--and with one hand +outstretched towards him. And now, as he paused, disbelieving his very +eyes, he saw that in her extended hand she held a great ripe peach. + +"Sergeant!" she said, speaking almost in a whisper, "Oh Sergeant--won't +you--take it?" + +The heavy sabre thudded down into the grass, and he took a sudden step +towards her. But, even now, he hesitated, until, coming nearer yet, he +could look down into her eyes. + +Then he spoke, and his voice was very hoarse, and uneven: + +"Miss Priscilla?" he said, "Priscilla?--Oh, Priscilla!" And, with the +word, he had fallen on his knees at her feet, and his strong, solitary +arm was folded close about her. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +_In which Porges Big, and Porges Small discuss the subject of Matrimony_ + +"What is it, my Porges?" + +"Well,--I'm a bit worried, you know." + +"Worried?" + +"Yes,--'fraid I shall be an old man before my time, Uncle Porges. Adam +says it's worry that ages a man,--an' it killed a cat too!" + +"And why do you worry?" + +"Oh, it's my Auntie Anthea, a course!--she was crying again last +night--" + +"Crying!" Bellew had been lying flat upon his back in the fragrant +shadow of the hay-rick, but now he sat up--very suddenly, so suddenly +that Small Porges started. "Crying!" he repeated, "last night! Are +you sure?" + +"Oh yes! You see, she forgot to come an' 'tuck me up' last night, so I +creeped downstairs,--very quietly, you know, to see why. An' I found her +bending over the table, all sobbing, an' crying. At first she tried to +pretend that she wasn't, but I saw the tears quite plain,--her cheeks +were all wet, you know; an' when I put my arms round her--to comfort her +a bit, an' asked her what was the matter, she only kissed me a lot, an' +said 'nothing! nothing,--only a headache!'" + +"And why was she crying, do you suppose, my Porges?" + +"Oh!--money, a course!" he sighed. + +"What makes you think it was money?" + +"'Cause she'd been talking to Adam,--I heard him say 'Good-night,' as I +creeped down the stairs,--" + +"Ah?" said Bellew, staring straight before him. His beloved pipe had +slipped from his fingers, and, for a wonder, lay all neglected. "It was +after she had talked with Adam, was it, my Porges?" + +"Yes,--that's why I knew it was 'bout money; Adam's always talking 'bout +morgyges, an' bills, an' money. Oh Uncle Porges, how I do--hate money!" + +"It is sometimes a confounded nuisance!" nodded Bellew. + +"But I do wish we had some,--so we could pay all her bills, an' morgyges +for her. She'd be so happy, you know, an' go about singing like she used +to,--an' I shouldn't worry myself into an old man before my time,--all +wrinkled, an' gray, you know; an' all would be revelry, an' joy, if only +she had enough gold, an' bank-notes!" + +"And she was--crying, you say!" demanded Bellew again, his gaze still +far away. + +"Yes." + +"You are quite sure you saw the--tears, my Porges?" + +"Oh yes! an' there was one on her nose, too,--a big one, that shone +awful' bright,--twinkled, you know." + +"And she said it was only a headache, did she?" + +"Yes, but that meant money,--money always makes her head ache, lately. +Oh Uncle Porges!--I s'pose people do find fortunes, sometimes, +don't they?" + +"Why yes, to be sure they do." + +"Then I wish I knew where they looked for them," said he with a very big +sigh indeed, "I've hunted an' hunted in all the attics, an' the +cupboards, an' under hedges, an' in ditches, an' prayed, an' prayed, you +know,--every night." + +"Then, of course, you'll be answered, my Porges." + +"Do you really s'pose I shall be answered? You see it's such an awful' +long way for one small prayer to have to go,--from here to heaven. An' +there's clouds that get in the way; an' I'm 'fraid my prayers aren't +quite big, or heavy enough, an' get lost, an' blown away in the wind." + +"No, my Porges," said Bellew, drawing his arm about the small +disconsolate figure, "you may depend upon it that your prayers fly +straight up into heaven, and that neither the clouds, nor the wind can +come between, or blow them away. So just keep on praying, old chap, and +when the time is ripe, they'll be answered, never fear." + +"Answered?--Do you mean,--oh Uncle Porges!--do you mean--the Money +Moon?" The small hand upon Bellew's arm, quivered, and his voice +trembled with eagerness. + +"Why yes, to be sure,--the Money Moon, my Porges,--it's bound to come, +one of these fine nights." + +"Ah!--but when,--oh! when will the Money Moon ever come?" + +"Well, I can't be quite sure, but I rather fancy, from the look of +things, my Porges, that it will be pretty soon." + +"Oh, I do hope so!--for her sake, an' my sake. You see, she may go +getting herself married to Mr. Cassilis, if something doesn't happen +soon, an' I shouldn't like that, you know." + +"Neither should I, my Porges. But what makes you think so?" + +"Why he's always bothering her, an' asking her to, you see. She always +says 'No' a course, but--one of these fine days, I'm 'fraid she'll say +'Yes'--accidentally, you know." + +"Heaven forbid, nephew!" + +"Does that mean you hope not?" + +"Indeed yes." + +"Then I say heaven forbid, too,--'cause I don't think she'd ever be +happy in Mr. Cassilis's great, big house. An' I shouldn't either." + +"Why, of course not!" + +"_You_ never go about asking people to marry you, do you Uncle Porges!" + +"Well, it could hardly be called a confirmed habit of mine." + +"That's one of the things I like about you so,--all the time you've been +here you haven't asked my Auntie Anthea once, have you?" + +"No, my Porges,--not yet." + +"Oh!--but you don't mean that you--ever will?" + +"Would you be very grieved, and angry, if I did,--some day soon, my +Porges?" + +"Well, I--I didn't think you were that kind of a man!" answered Small +Porges, sighing and shaking his head regretfully. + +"I'm afraid I am, nephew." + +"Do you really mean that you want to--marry my Auntie Anthea?" + +"I do." + +"As much as Mr. Cassilis does?" + +"A great deal more, I think." + +Small Porges sighed again, and shook his head very gravely indeed: + +"Uncle Porges," said he, "I'm--s'prised at you!" + +"I rather feared you would be, nephew." + +"It's all so awful' silly, you know!--why do you want to marry her?" + +"Because, like a Prince in a fairy tale, I'm--er--rather anxious +to--live happy ever after." + +"Oh!" said Small Porges, turning this over in his mind, "I never thought +of that." + +"Marriage is a very important institution, you see, my +Porges,--especially in this case, because I can't possibly live happy +ever after, unless I marry--first--now can I?" + +"No, I s'pose not!" Small Porges admitted, albeit reluctantly, after he +had pondered the matter a while with wrinkled brow, "but why pick +out--my Auntie Anthea?" + +"Just because she happens to be your Auntie Anthea, of course." + +Small Porges sighed again: + +"Why then, if she's got to be married some day, so she can live happy +ever after,--well,--I s'pose you'd better take her, Uncle Porges." + +"Thank you, old chap,--I mean to." + +"I'd rather you took her than Mr. Cassilis, an'--why there he is!" + +"Who?" + +"Mr. Cassilis. An' he's stopped, an' he's twisting his mestache." + +Mr. Cassilis, who had been crossing the paddock, had indeed stopped, +and was twisting his black moustache, as if he were hesitating between +two courses. Finally, he pushed open the gate, and, approaching Bellew, +saluted him with that supercilious air which Miss Priscilla always +declared she found so "trying." + +"Ah, Mr. Bellew! what might it be this morning,--the pitchfork--the +scythe, or the plough?" he enquired. + +"Neither, sir,--this morning it is--matrimony!" + +"Eh!--I beg your pardon,--matrimony?" + +"With a large M, sir," nodded Bellew, "marriage, sir,--wedlock; my +nephew and I are discussing it in its aspects philosophical, +sociological, and--" + +"That is surely rather a--peculiar subject to discuss with a child, Mr. +Bellew--" + +"Meaning my nephew, sir?" + +"I mean--young George, there." + +"Precisely,--my nephew, Small Porges." + +"I refer," said Mr. Cassilis, with slow, and crushing emphasis, "to Miss +Devine's nephew--" + +"And mine, Mr. Cassilis,--mine by--er--mutual adoption, and +inclination." + +"And I repeat that your choice of subjects is--peculiar, to say the +least of it." + +"But then, mine is rather a peculiar nephew, sir. But, surely it was not +to discuss nephews,--mine or anyone else's, that you are hither come, +and our ears do wait upon you,--pray be seated, sir." + +"Thank you, I prefer to stand." + +"Strange!" murmured Bellew, shaking his head, "I never stand if I can +sit, or sit if I can lie down." + +"I should like you to define, exactly, your position--here at +Dapplemere, Mr. Bellew." + +Bellew's sleepy glance missed nothing of the other's challenging +attitude, and his ear, nothing of Mr. Cassilis's authoritative tone, +therefore his smile was most engaging as he answered: + +"My position here, sir, is truly the most--er--enviable in the world. +Prudence is an admirable cook,--particularly as regard Yorkshire +Pudding; gentle, little Miss Priscilla is the most--er Aunt-like, and +perfect of housekeepers; and Miss Anthea is our sovereign lady, before +whose radiant beauty, Small Porges and I like true knights, and gallant +gentles, do constant homage, and in whose behalf Small Porges and I do +stand prepared to wage stern battle, by day, or by night." + +"Indeed!" said Mr. Cassilis, and his smile was even more supercilious +than usual. + +"Yes, sir," nodded Bellew, "I do confess me a most fortunate, and happy, +wight who, having wandered hither and yon upon this planet of ours, +which is so vast, and so very small,--has, by the most happy chance, +found his way hither into Arcady." + +"And--may I enquire how long you intend to lead this Arcadian +existence?" + +"I fear I cannot answer that question until the full o' the moon, +sir,--at present, I grieve to say,--I do not know." + +Mr. Cassilis struck his riding-boot a sudden smart rap with his whip; +his eyes snapped, and his nostrils dilated, as he glanced down into +Bellew's imperturbable face. + +"At least you know, and will perhaps explain, what prompted you to buy +all that furniture? You were the only buyer at the sale I understand." + +"Who--bought anything, yes," nodded Bellew. + +"And pray--what was your object,--you--a stranger?" + +"Well," replied Bellew slowly, as he began to fill his pipe, "I bought +it because it was there to buy, you know; I bought it because furniture +is apt to be rather useful, now and then,--I acquired the chairs +to--er--sit in, the tables to--er--put things on, and--" + +"Don't quibble with me, Mr. Bellew!" + +"I beg your pardon, Mr. Cassilis!" + +"When I ask a question, sir, I am in the habit of receiving a direct +reply,--" + +"And when I am asked a question, Mr. Cassilis, I am in the habit of +answering it precisely as I please,--or not at all." + +"Mr. Bellew, let me impress upon you, once and for all, that Miss Devine +has friends,--old and tried friends, to whom she can always turn for aid +in any financial difficulty she may have to encounter,--friends who can +more than tide over all her difficulties without the--interference of +strangers; and, as one of her oldest friends, I demand to know by what +right you force your wholly unnecessary assistance upon her?" + +"My very good sir," returned Bellew, shaking his head in gentle reproof, +"really, you seem to forget that you are not addressing one of your +grooms, or footmen,--consequently you force me to remind you of the +fact; furthermore,--" + +"That is no answer!" said Mr. Cassilis, his gloved hands tight-clenched +upon his hunting-crop,--his whole attitude one of menace. + +"Furthermore," pursued Bellew placidly, settling the tobacco in his pipe +with his thumb, "you can continue to--er demand, until all's blue, and I +shall continue to lie here, and smoke, and gaze up at the smiling +serenity of heaven." + +The black brows of Mr. Cassilis met in a sudden frown, he tossed his +whip aside, and took a sudden quick stride towards the recumbent Bellew +with so evident an intention, that Small Porges shrank instinctively +further within the encircling arm. + +But, at that psychic moment, very fortunately for all concerned, there +came the sound of a quick, light step, and Anthea stood between them. + +"Mr. Cassilis!--Mr. Bellew!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed, and her +bosom heaving with the haste she had made, "pray whatever does +this mean?" + +Bellew rose to his feet, and seeing Cassilis was silent, shook his head +and smiled: + +"Upon my word, I hardly know, Miss Anthea. Our friend Mr. Cassilis seems +to have got himself all worked up over the--er--sale, I fancy--" + +"The furniture!" exclaimed Anthea, and stamped her foot with vexation. +"That wretched furniture! Of course you explained your object in buying +it, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Well, no,--we hadn't got as far as that." + +Now when he said this, Anthea's eyes flashed sudden scorn at him, and +she curled her lip at him, and turned her back upon him: + +"Mr. Bellew bought my furniture because he intends to set up +house-keeping--he is to be married--soon, I believe." + +"When the moon is at the full!" nodded Bellew. + +"Married!" exclaimed Mr. Cassilis, his frown vanishing as if by magic. +"Oh, indeed--" + +"I am on my way to the hop-gardens, if you care to walk with me, Mr. +Cassilis?" and, with the words, Anthea turned, and, as he watched them +walk away, together,--Bellew noticed upon the face of Mr. Cassilis an +expression very like triumph, and, in his general air, a suggestion of +proprietorship that jarred upon him most unpleasantly. + +"Why do you frown so, Uncle Porges?" + +"I--er--was thinking, nephew." + +"Well, I'm thinking, too!" nodded Small Porges, his brows knitted +portentously. And thus they sat, Big, and Little Porges, frowning in +unison at space for quite a while. + +"Are you quite sure you never told my Auntie Anthea that you were going +to marry her?" enquired Small Porges, at last. + +"Quite sure, comrade,--why?" + +"Then how did she know you were going to marry her, an' settle down?" + +"Marry--her, and settle down?" + +"Yes,--at the full o' the moon, you know." + +"Why really--I don't know, my Porges,--unless she guessed it." + +"I specks she did,--she's awful' clever at guessing things! But, do you +know--" + +"Well?" + +"I'm thinking I don't just like the way she smiled at Mr. Cassilis, I +never saw her look at him like that before,--as if she were awful' glad +to see him, you know; so I don't think I'd wait till the full o' the +moon, if I were you. I think you'd better marry her--this afternoon." + +"That," said Bellew, clapping him on the shoulder, "is a very admirable +idea,--I'll mention it to her on the first available opportunity, +my Porges." + +But the opportunity did not come that day, nor the next, nor the next +after that, for it seemed that with the approach of the "Hop-picking" +Anthea had no thought, or time, for anything else. + +Wherefore Bellew smoked many pipes, and, as the days wore on, possessed +his soul in patience, which is a most excellent precept to follow--in +all things but love. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +_Which relates a most extraordinary conversation_ + +In the days which now ensued, while Anthea was busied out of doors and +Miss Priscilla was busied indoors, and Small Porges was diligently +occupied with his lessons,--at such times, Bellew would take his pipe +and go to sit and smoke in company with the Cavalier in the great +picture above the carved chimney-piece. + +A right jovial companion, at all times, was this Cavalier, an optimist +he, from the curling feather in his broad-brimmed beaver hat, to the +spurs at his heels. Handsome, gay, and debonair was he, with lips +up-curving to a smile beneath his moustachio, and a quizzical light in +his grey eyes, very like that in Bellew's own. Moreover he wore the +knowing, waggish air of one well versed in all the ways of the world, +and mankind in general, and, (what is infinitely more),--of the Sex +Feminine, in particular. Experienced was he, beyond all doubt, in their +pretty tricks, and foibles, since he had ever been a diligent student of +Feminine Capriciousness when the "Merry Monarch" ruled the land. + +Hence, it became customary for Bellew to sit with him, and smoke, and +take counsel of this "preux chevalier" upon the unfortunate turn of +affairs. Whereof ensued many remarkable conversations of which the +following, was one: + +BELLEW: No sir,--emphatically I do not agree with you. To be sure, you +may have had more experience than I, in such affairs,--but then, it was +such a very long time ago. + +THE CAVALIER: (Interrupting, or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Again, I beg to differ from you, women are not the same to-day +as they ever were. Judging by what I have read of the ladies of your +day, and King Charles's court at Whitehall,--I should say--not. At +least, if they are, they act differently, and consequently must +be--er--wooed differently. The methods employed in your day would be +wholly inadequate and quite out of place, in this. + +THE CAVALIER: (Shaking his head and smirking,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Well, I'm willing to bet you anything you like that if you were +to step down out of your frame, change your velvets and laces for +trousers and coat, leave off your great peruke, and wear a derby hat +instead of that picturesque, floppy affair, and try your fortune with +some Twentieth Century damsel, your high-sounding gallantries, and +flattering phrases, would fall singularly flat, and you would be +promptly--turned down, sir. + +THE CAVALIER: (Tossing his love-locks,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: The "strong hand," you say? Hum! History tells us that William +the Conqueror wooed his lady with a club, or a battle-axe, or something +of the sort, and she consequently liked him the better for it; which was +all very natural, and proper of course, in her case, seeing that hers +was the day of battle-axes, and things. But then, as I said before, +sir,--the times are sadly changed,--women may still admire strength of +body, and even--occasionally--of mind, but the theory of "Dog, woman, +and walnut tree" is quite obsolete. + +THE CAVALIER: (Frowning and shaking his head,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Ha!--you don't believe me? Well, that is because you are +obsolete, too;--yes sir, as obsolete as your hat, or your boots, or your +long rapier. Now, for instance, suppose I were to ask your advice in my +own case? You know precisely how the matter stands at present, between +Miss Anthea and myself. You also know Miss Anthea personally, since you +have seen her much and often, and have watched her grow from childhood +into--er--glorious womanhood,--I repeat sir glorious womanhood. Thus, +you ought to know, and understand her far better than I,--for I do +confess she is a constant source of bewilderment to me. Now, since you +do know her so well,--what course should you adopt, were you in +my place? + +THE CAVALIER: (Smirking more knowingly than ever,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Preposterous! Quite absurd!--and just what I might have +expected. Carry her off, indeed! No no, we are not living in your bad, +old, glorious days when a maid's "No" was generally taken to mean +"Yes"--or when a lover might swing his reluctant mistress up to his +saddle-bow, and ride off with her, leaving the world far behind. To-day +it is all changed,--sadly changed. Your age was a wild age, a violent +age, but in some respects, perhaps, a rather glorious age. Your advice +is singularly characteristic, and, of course, quite impossible, +alas!--Carry her off, indeed! + +Hereupon, Bellew sighed, and turning away, lighted his pipe, which had +gone out, and buried himself in the newspaper. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +_Of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax, and the third finger of the left +hand_ + +So Bellew took up the paper. The house was very quiet, for Small Porges +was deep in the vexatious rules of the Multiplication Table, and +something he called "Jogafrey," Anthea was out, as usual, and Miss +Priscilla was busied with her numerous household duties. Thus the +brooding silence was unbroken save for the occasional murmur of a voice, +the jingle of the housekeeping keys, and the quick, light tap, tap, of +Miss Priscilla's stick. + +Therefore, Bellew read the paper, and let it be understood that he +regarded the daily news-sheet as the last resource of the utterly bored. + +Now presently, as he glanced over the paper with a negative interest his +eye was attracted by a long paragraph beginning: + +At St. George's, Hanover Square, by the Right Reverend the Bishop +of----, Silvia Cecile Marchmont, to His Grace the Duke of Ryde, +K.G., K.C.B. + +Below followed a full, true, and particular account of the ceremony +which, it seemed, had been graced by Royalty. George Bellew read it half +way through, and--yawned,--positively, and actually, yawned, and +thereafter, laughed. + +"And so, I have been in Arcadia--only three weeks! I have known Anthea +only twenty-one days! A ridiculously short time, as time goes,--in any +other place but Arcadia,--and yet sufficient to lay for ever, +the--er--Haunting Spectre of the Might Have Been. Lord! what a +preposterous ass I was! Baxter was quite right,--utterly, and completely +right! Now, let us suppose that this paragraph had read: 'To-day, at St. +George's, Hanover Square, Anthea Devine to--' No no,--confound it!" and +Bellew crumpled up the paper, and tossed it into a distant corner. "I +wonder what Baxter would think of me now,--good old faithful John. The +Haunting Spectre of the Might Have Been,--What a preposterous ass!--what +a monumental idiot I was!" + +"Posterous ass, isn't a very pretty word, Uncle Porges,--or continental +idiot!" said a voice behind him, and turning, he beheld Small Porges +somewhat stained, and bespattered with ink, who shook a reproving +head at him. + +"True, nephew," he answered, "but they are sometimes very apt, and in +this instance, particularly so." + +Small Porges drew near, and, seating himself upon the arm of Bellew's +chair, looked at his adopted uncle, long, and steadfastly. + +"Uncle Porges," said he, at last, "you never tell stories, do you?--I +mean--lies, you know." + +"Indeed, I hope not, Porges,--why do you ask?" + +"Well,--'cause my Auntie Anthea's 'fraid you do." + +"Is she--hum!--Why?" + +"When she came to 'tuck me up,' last night, she sat down on my bed, an' +talked to me a long time. An' she sighed a lot, an' said she was 'fraid +I didn't care for her any more,--which was awful' silly, you know." + +"Yes, of course!" nodded Bellew. + +"An' then she asked me why I was so fond of you, an' I said 'cause you +were my Uncle Porges that I found under a hedge. An' then she got more +angrier than ever, an' said she wished I'd left you under the hedge--" + +"Did she, my Porges?" + +"Yes; she said she wished she'd never seen you, an' she'd be awful' glad +when you'd gone away. So I told her you weren't ever going away, an' +that we were waiting for the Money Moon to come, an' bring us the +fortune. An' then she shook her head, an' said 'Oh! my dear,--you +mustn't believe anything he says to you about the moon, or anything +else, 'cause he tells lies,'--an' she said 'lies' twice!" + +"Ah!--and--did she stamp her foot, Porges?" + +"Yes, I think she did; an' then she said there wasn't such a thing as a +Money Moon, an' she told me you were going away very soon, to get +married, you know." + +"And what did you say?" + +"Oh! I told her that I was going too. An' then I thought she was going +to cry, an' she said 'Oh Georgy! I didn't think you'd leave me--even for +him.' So then I had to s'plain how we had arranged that she was going to +marry you so that we could all live happy ever after,--I mean, that it +was all settled, you know, an' that you were going to speak to her on +the first--opportunity. An' then she looked at me a long time an' asked +me--was I sure you had said so. An' then she got awful' angry indeed, +an' said 'How dare he! Oh, how dare he!' So a course, I told her you'd +dare anything--even a dragon,--'cause you are so big, an' brave, you +know. So then she went an' stood at the window, an' she was so angry she +cried,--an' I nearly cried too. But at last she kissed me 'Good night' +an' said you were a man that never meant anything you said, an' that I +must never believe you any more, an' that you were going away to marry a +lady in London, an' that she was very glad, 'cause then we should all be +happy again she s'posed. So she kissed me again, an' tucked me up, an' +went away. But it was a long, long time before I could go to sleep, +'cause I kept on thinking, an' thinking s'posing there really wasn't any +Money Moon, after all! s'posing you were going to marry another lady in +London!--You see, it would all be so--frightfully awful, wouldn't it?" + +"Terribly dreadfully awful, my Porges." + +"But you never _do_ tell lies,--do you, Uncle Porges?" + +"No!" + +"An'--there _is_ a Money Moon, isn't there?" + +"Why of course there is." + +"An' you _are_ going to marry my Auntie Anthea in the full o' the moon, +aren't you?" + +"Yes, my Porges." + +"Why then--everything's all right again,--so let's go an' sit under the +hay-stack, an' talk 'bout ships." + +"But why of ships?" enquired Bellew, rising. + +"'Cause I made up my mind, this morning, that I'd be a sailor when I +grow up,--a mariner, you know, like Peterday, only I'd prefer to have +both my legs." + +"You'd find it more convenient, perhaps." + +"You know all 'bout oceans, an' waves, and billows, don't you Uncle +Porges?" + +"Well, I know a little." + +"An' are you ever sea-sick,--like a 'landlubber?'" + +"I used to be, but I got over it." + +"Was it a very big ship that you came over in?" + +"No,--not so very big, but she's about as fast as anything in her class, +and a corking sea-boat." + +"What's her name?" + +"Her name?" repeated Bellew, "well, she was called the--er 'Silvia.'" + +"That's an awful' pretty name for a ship." + +"Hum!--so so,--but I have learned a prettier, and next time she puts out +to sea we'll change her name, eh, my Porges?" + +"We?" cried Small Porges, looking up with eager eyes, "do you mean you'd +take me to sea with you,--an' my Auntie Anthea, of course?" + +"You don't suppose I'd leave either of you behind, if I could help it, +do you? We'd all sail away together--wherever you wished." + +"Do you mean," said Small Porges, in a suddenly awed voice, "that it +is--your ship,--your very own?" + +"Oh yes-" + +"But,--do you know, Uncle Porges, you don't look as though you had a +ship--for your very own, somehow." + +"Don't I?" + +"You see, a ship is such a very big thing for one man to have for his +very own self. An' has it got masts, an' funnels, an' anchors?" + +"Lots of 'em." + +"Then, please, when will you take me an' Auntie Anthea sailing all over +the oceans?" + +"Just so soon as she is ready to come." + +"Then I think I'd like to go to Nova Zembla first,--I found it in my +jogafrey to-day, an' it sounds nice an' far off, doesn't it?" + +"It does, Shipmate!" nodded Bellew. + +"Oh! that's fine!" exclaimed Small Porges rapturously, "you shall be the +captain, an' I'll be the shipmate, an' we'll say Aye Aye, to each +other--like the real sailors do in books,--shall we?" + +"Aye, aye Shipmate!" nodded Bellew again. + +"Then please, Uncle Por--I mean Captain,--what shall we name our +ship,--I mean the new name?" + +"Well, my Porges,--I mean, of course, shipmate,--I rather thought of +calling her--Hallo!--why here's the Sergeant." + +Sure enough, there was Sergeant Appleby sitting under the shade of "King +Arthur"--but who rose, and stood at attention as they came up. + +"Why Sergeant, how are you?" said Bellew, gripping the veteran's hand. +"You are half an hour before your usual time, to-day,--nothing wrong, +I hope?" + +"Nothing wrong, Mr. Bellew, sir--I thank you. No, nothing wrong, but +this--is a--memorable occasion, sir. May I trouble you to--step behind +the tree with me--for half a moment, sir?" + +Suiting the action to the word, the Sergeant led Bellew to the other +side of the tree, and there, screened from view of the house, he, with a +sudden, jerky movement, produced a very small leather case from his +pocket, which he handed to Bellew. + +"Not good enough--for such a woman--I know, but the best I could afford, +sir!" said the Sergeant appearing profoundly interested in the leaves +overhead, while Bellew opened the very small box. + +"Why--it's very handsome, Sergeant!" said Bellew, making the jewels +sparkle in the sun,--"anyone might be proud of such a ring." + +"Why, it did look pretty tidy--in the shop, sir,--to me, and Peterday. +My comrade has a sharp eye, and a sound judgment in most things, +sir--and we took--a deal of trouble in selecting it. But now--when it +comes to--giving it to _Her_,--why it looks--uncommon small, and +mean, sir." + +"A ruby, and two diamonds, and very fine stones, too, Sergeant!" + +"So I made so bold as to--come here sir," pursued the Sergeant still +interested in the foliage above, "half an hour afore my usual time--to +ask you, sir--if you would so far oblige me--as to--hand it to her--when +I'm gone, sir." + +"Lord, no!" said Bellew, smiling and shaking his head, "not on your +life, Sergeant! Why man it would lose half its value in her eyes if any +other than you gave it to her. No Sergeant, you must hand it to her +yourself, and, what's more, you must slip it upon her finger." + +"Good Lord! sir!" exclaimed the Sergeant, "I could never do that!" + +"Oh yes you could!" + +"Not unless you--stood by me--a force in reserve, as it were, sir." + +"I'll do that willingly, Sergeant." + +"Then--p 'raps sir--you might happen to know--which finger?" + +"The third finger of the left hand, I believe Sergeant." + +"Here's Aunt Priscilla now," said Small Porges, at this juncture. + +"Lord!" exclaimed the Sergeant, "and sixteen minutes afore her usual +time!" + +Yes,--there was Miss Priscilla, her basket of sewing upon her arm, as +gentle, as unruffled, as placid as usual. And yet it is probable that +she divined something from their very attitudes, for there was a light +in her eyes, and her cheeks seemed more delicately pink than was their +wont. Thus, as she came toward them, under the ancient apple-trees, +despite her stick, and her white hair, she looked even younger, and more +girlish than ever. + +At least, the Sergeant seemed to think so, for, as he met her look, his +face grew suddenly radiant, while a slow flush crept up under the tan of +his cheek, and the solitary hand he held out to her, trembled a little, +for all its size, and strength. + +"Miss Priscilla, mam--" he said, and stopped. "Miss Priscilla," he began +again, and paused once more. + +"Why--Sergeant!" she exclaimed, though it was a very soft little +exclamation indeed,--for her hand still rested in his, and so she could +feel the quiver of the strong fingers, "why--Sergeant!" + +"Miss Priscilla,--" said he, beginning all over again, but with no +better success. + +"Goodness me!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, "I do believe he is going to +forget to enquire about the peaches!" + +"Peaches!" repeated the Sergeant, "Yes, Priscilla." + +"And--why?" + +"'Cause he's brought you a ring," Small Porges broke in, "a very +handsome ring, you know, Aunt Priscilla,--all diamonds an' jewels, an' +he wants you to please let him put it on your finger--if you +don't mind." + +"And--here it is!" said the Sergeant, and gave it into her hand. + +Miss Priscilla stood very silent, and very still, looking down at the +glittering gems, then, all at once, her eyes filled, and a slow wave of +colour dyed her cheeks: + +"Oh Sergeant!" she said, very softly, "Oh Sergeant, I am only a poor, +old woman--with a lame foot!" + +"And I am a poor, old soldier--with only one arm, Priscilla." + +"You are the strongest, and gentlest, and bravest soldier in all the +world, I think!" she answered. + +"And you, Priscilla, are the sweetest, and most beautiful _woman_ in the +world, I _know!_ And so--I've loved you all these years, and--never +dared to tell you so, because of my--one arm." + +"Why then," said Miss Priscilla, smiling up at him through her tears, +"if you do--really--think that,--why,--it's this finger, Sergeant!" + +So the Sergeant, very clumsily, perhaps, because he had but the one +hand, slipped the ring upon the finger in question. And Porges, Big, and +Small, turning to glance back, as they went upon their way saw that he +still held that small white hand pressed close to his lips. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +_Coming events cast their shadows before_ + +"I s'pose they'll be marrying each other, one of these fine days!" said +Small Porges as they crossed the meadow, side by side. + +"Yes, I expect so, Shipmate," nodded Bellew, "and may they live long, +and die happy, say I." + +"Aye, aye, Captain,--an' Amen!" returned Small Porges. + +Now as they went, conversing of marriage, and ships, and the wonders, +and marvels of foreign lands,--they met with Adam who stared up at the +sky and muttered to himself, and frowned, and shook his head. + +"Good arternoon, Mr. Belloo sir,--an' Master Georgy!" + +"Well, Adam, how are the hops?" + +"'Ops sir,--there never was such 'ops,--no, not in all Kent, sir. All +I'm wishin' is that they was all safe picked, an' gathered. W'ot do you +make o' them clouds, sir,--over there,--jest over the p'int o' the +oast-house?" + +Bellew turned, and cast a comprehensive, sailor-like glance in the +direction indicated. + +"Rain, Adam, and wind,--and plenty of it!" said he. + +"Ah! so I think, sir,--driving storm, and thrashing tempest!" + +"Well, Adam?" + +"Well, sir,--p'raps you've never seen w'ot driving rain, an' raging +wind, can do among the 'op-bines, sir. All I wish is that they 'ops was +all safe picked an' gathered, sir!" And Adam strode off with his eye +still turned heaven-ward, and shaking his head like some great bird +of ill-omen. + +So the afternoon wore away to evening, and with evening, came Anthea; +but a very grave-eyed, troubled Anthea, who sat at the tea-table silent, +and preoccupied,--in so much, that Small Porges openly wondered, while +Miss Priscilla watched over her, wistful, and tender. + +Thus, Tea, which was wont to be the merriest meal of the day, was but +the pale ghost of what it should have been, despite Small Porges' flow +of conversation, (when not impeded by bread and jam), and Bellew's +tactful efforts. Now while he talked light-heartedly, keeping carefully +to generalities, he noticed two things,--one was that Anthea made but a +pretence at eating, and the second, that though she uttered a word, now +and then, yet her eyes persistently avoided his. + +Thus, he, for one, was relieved when tea was over, and, as he rose from +the table, he determined, despite the unpropitious look of things, to +end the suspense, one way or another, and speak to Anthea just so soon +as she should be alone. + +But here again he was balked and disappointed, for when Small Porges +came to bid him good-night as usual, he learned that "Auntie Anthea" had +already gone to bed. + +"She says it's a head-ache," said Small Porges, "but I 'specks it's the +hops, really, you know." + +"The hops, my Porges?" + +"She's worrying about them,--she's 'fraid of a storm, like Adam is. An' +when she worries,--I worry. Oh Uncle Porges!--if only my prayers can +bring the Money Moon--soon, you know,--very soon! If they don't bring it +in a day or two,--'fraid I shall wake up, one fine morning, an' find +I've worried, an' worried myself into an old man." + +"Never fear, Shipmate!" said Bellew in his most nautical manner, "'all's +well that ends well,'--a-low, and aloft all's a-taunto. So just take a +turn at the lee braces, and keep your weather eye lifting, for you may +be sure of this,--if the storm does come,--it will bring the Money +Moon with it." + +Then, having bidden Small Porges a cheery "Good-night"--Bellew went out +to walk among the roses. And, as he walked, he watched the flying wrack +of clouds above his head, and listened to the wind that moaned in fitful +gusts. Wherefore, having learned in his many travels to read, and +interpret such natural signs and omens, he shook his head, and muttered +to himself--even as Adam had done before him. + +Presently he wandered back into the house, and, filling his pipe, went +to hold communion with his friend--the Cavalier. + +And thus it was that having ensconced himself in the great elbow-chair, +and raised his eyes to the picture, he espied a letter tucked into the +frame, thereof. Looking closer, he saw that it was directed to himself. +He took it down, and, after a momentary hesitation, broke the seal, +and read: + +Miss Devine presents her compliments to Mr. Bellew, and regrets to say +that owing to unforeseen circumstances, she begs that he will provide +himself with other quarters at the expiration of the month, being the +Twenty-third inst. + +Bellew read the lines slowly, twice over, then, folding the note very +carefully, put it into his pocket, and stood for a long time staring at +nothing in particular. At length he lifted his head, and looked up into +the smiling eyes of the Cavalier, above the mantel. + +"Sir," said he, very gravely, "it would almost seem that you were in the +right of it,--that yours is the best method, after all!" Then he knocked +the ashes from his pipe, and went, slowly, and heavily, up-stairs +to bed. + +It was a long time before he fell asleep, but he did so at last, for +Insomnia is a demon who rarely finds his way into Arcadia. But, all at +once, he was awake again,--broad awake, and staring into the dark, for a +thousand voices seemed to be screaming in his ears, and eager hands were +shaking, and plucking at window and lattice. He started up, and then he +knew that the storm was upon them, at last, in all its fury,--rain, and +a mighty wind,--a howling raging tempest. Yes, a great, and mighty wind +was abroad,--it shrieked under the eaves, it boomed and bellowed in the +chimneys, and roared away to carry destruction among the distant woods; +while the rain beat hissing against the window-panes. + +Surely in all its many years the old house of Dapplemere had seldom +borne the brunt of such a storm, so wild,--so fierce, and pitiless! + +And, lying there upon his bed, listening to the uproar, and tumult, +Bellew must needs think of her who had once said: + +"We are placing all our hopes, this year, upon the hops!" + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +_How Small Porges, in his hour of need, was deserted by his Uncle_ + +"Ruined, sir!--Done for!--Lord love me! they ain't worth the trouble o? +gatherin'--w'ot's left on 'em, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"So bad as that, Adam?" + +"Bad!--ah, so bad as ever was, sir!" said Adam, blinking suspiciously, +and turning suddenly away. + +"Has Miss Anthea seen,--does she know?" + +"Ah! she were out at dawn, and Oh Lord, Mr. Belloo sir! I can't never +forget her poor, stricken face,--so pale and sad it were. But she never +said nothing, only: 'Oh, Adam!--my poor hops!' An' I see her lips all of +a quiver while she spoke. An' so she turned away, an' came back to the +'ouse, sir. Poor lass! Oh poor lass!" he exclaimed, his voice growing +more husky. "She's made a brave fight for it, sir,--but it weren't no +use, ye see,--it'll be 'Good-bye' for her to Dapplemere, arter all, that +there mortgage can't never be paid now,--nohow." + +"When is it due?" + +"Well, according to the bond, or the deed, or whatever they calls +it,--it be doo--tonight, at nine o'clock, sir,--though Old Grimes,--as +a special favour, an' arter much persuading,--'ad agreed to hold over +till next Saturday,--on account o' the 'op-picking. But now--seeing as +there ain't no 'ops to be picked,--why he'll fore-close to-night, an' +glad enough to do it, you can lay your oath on that, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"To-night!" said Bellew, "to-night!" and he stood, for a while with bent +head, as though lost in profound thought. "Adam," said he, suddenly, +"help me to harness the mare, I must drive over to the nearest rail-road +depot,--hurry, I must be off, the sooner, the better." + +"What!--be you--goin' sir?" + +"Yes;--hurry, man,--hurry!" + +"D'ye mean as you're a-goin' to leave her--now, in the middle o' all +this trouble?" + +"Yes, Adam,--I must go to London--on business,--now hurry, like a good +fellow." And so, together they entered the stable, and together they +harnessed the mare. Which done, staying not for breakfast, Bellew +mounted the driver's seat, and, with Adam beside him, drove +rapidly away. + +But Small Porges had seen these preparations, and now came running all +eagerness, but ere he could reach the yard, Bellew was out of ear-shot. + +So there stood Small Porges, a desolate little figure, watching the +rapid course of the dogcart until it had vanished over the brow of the +hill. And then, all at once the tears welled up into his eyes hot, and +scalding, and a great sob burst from him, for it seemed to him that his +beloved Uncle Porges had failed him at the crucial moment,--had left him +solitary just when he needed him most. + +Thus Small Porges gave way to his grief, hidden in the very darkest +corner of the stable, whither he had retired lest any should observe his +weakness, until having once more gained command of himself, and wiped +away his tears with his small, and dingy pocket-handkerchief, he slowly +re-crossed the yard, and entering the house went to look for his +Auntie Anthea. + +And, after much search, he found her--half-lying, half-kneeling beside +his bed. When he spoke to her, though she answered him, she did not look +up, and he knew that she was weeping. + +"Don't, Auntie Anthea,--don't!" he pleaded. "I know Uncle Porges has +gone away, an' left us, but you've got me left, you know,--an' I shall +be a man--very soon,--before my time, I think. So--don't cry,--though +I'm awful' sorry he's gone, too--just when we needed him the most, +you know!" + +"Oh Georgy!" she whispered, "my dear, brave little Georgy! We shall only +have each other soon,--they're going to take Dapplemere away from +us,--and everything we have in the world,--Oh Georgy!" + +"Well, never mind!" said he, kneeling beside her, and drawing one small +arm protectingly about her, "we shall always have each other left, you +know,--nobody shall ever take you away from me. An' then--there's +the--Money Moon! It's been an awful' long time coming,--but it may come +to-night, or tomorrow night. _He_ said it would be sure to come if the +storm came, an' so I'll find the fortune for you at last. I know I shall +find it _some day_ a course--'cause I've prayed, an' prayed for it so +very hard, an' _He_ said my prayers went straight up to heaven, an' +didn't get blown away, or lost in the clouds. So--don't cry, Auntie +Anthea let's wait--just a little longer--till the Money Moon comes." + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +_In which shall be found mention of a certain black bag_ + +"Baxter!" + +"Sir?" + +"Get me a pen, and ink!" + +"Yes, sir." + +Now any ordinary mortal might have manifested just a little surprise to +behold his master walk suddenly in, dusty and dishevelled of person, his +habitual languor entirely laid aside, and to thus demand pen and ink, +forthwith. But then, Baxter, though mortal, was the very cream of a +gentleman's gentleman, and the acme of valets, (as has been said), and +comported himself accordingly. + +"Baxter!" + +"Sir?" + +"Oblige me by getting this cashed." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Bring half of it in gold." + +"Sir," said Baxter, glancing down at the slip of paper, "did you +say--half, sir?" + +"Yes, Baxter,--I'd take it all in gold only that it would be rather +awkward to drag around. So bring half in gold, and the rest in--five +pound notes." + +"Very good, sir!" + +"And--Baxter!" + +"Sir?" + +"Take a cab!" + +"Certainly sir." And Baxter went out, closing the door behind him. +Meanwhile Bellew busied himself in removing all traces of his journey, +and was already bathed, and shaved, and dressed, by the time +Baxter returned. + +Now gripped in his right hand Baxter carried a black leather bag which +jingled as he set it down upon the table. + +"Got it?" enquired Bellew. + +"I have, sir." + +"Good!" nodded Bellew. "Now just run around to the garage, and fetch the +new racing car,--the Mercedes." + +"Now, sir?" + +"Now, Baxter!" + +Once more Baxter departed, and, while he was gone, Bellew began to +pack,--that is to say, he bundled coats and trousers, shirts and boots +into a portmanteau in a way that would have wrung Baxter's heart, could +he have seen. Which done, Bellew opened the black bag, glanced inside, +shut it again, and, lighting his pipe, stretched himself out upon an +ottoman, and immediately became plunged in thought. + +So lost was he, indeed, that Baxter, upon his return was necessitated to +emit three distinct coughs,--(the most perfectly proper, and +gentleman-like coughs in the world) ere Bellew was aware of +his presence. + +"Oh!--that you, Baxter?" said he, sitting up, "back so soon?" + +"The car is at the door, sir." + +"The car?--ah yes, to be sure!--Baxter." + +"Sir?" + +"What should you say if I told you--" Bellew paused to strike a match, +broke it, tried another, broke that, and finally put his pipe back into +his pocket, very conscious the while of Baxter's steady, though +perfectly respectful regard. + +"Baxter," said he again. + +"Sir?" said Baxter. + +"What should you say if I told you that I was in love--at last, +Baxter!--Head over ears--hopelessly--irretrievably?" + +"Say, sir?--why I should say,--indeed, sir?" + +"What should you say," pursued Bellew, staring thoughtfully down at the +rug under his feet, "if I told you that I am so very much, in love that +I am positively afraid to--tell her so?" + +"I should say--very remarkable, sir!" + +Bellew took out his pipe again, looked at it very much as if he had +never seen such a thing before, and laid it down upon the mantelpiece. + +"Baxter," said he, "kindly understand that I am speaking to you +as--er--man to man,--as my father's old and trusted servant and my early +boy-hood's only friend; sit down, John." + +"Thank you, Master George, sir." + +"I wish to--confess to you, John, that--er--regarding the--er--Haunting +Spectre of the Might Have Been,--you were entirely in the right. At that +time I knew no more the meaning of the--er--the word, John--" + +"Meaning the word--Love, Master George!" + +"Precisely; I knew no more about it than--that table. But during these +latter days, I have begun to understand, and--er--the fact of the matter +is--I'm--I'm fairly--up against it, John!" + +Here, Baxter, who had been watching him with his quick, sharp eyes +nodded his head solemnly: + +"Master George," said he, "speaking as your father's old servant, and +your boyhood's friend,--I'm afraid you are." + +Bellew took a turn up and down the room, and then pausing in front of +Baxter, (who had risen also, as a matter of course), he suddenly laid +his two hands upon his valet's shoulders. + +"Baxter," said he, "you'll remember that after my mother died, my father +was always too busy piling up his millions to give much time or thought +to me, and I should have been a very lonely small boy if it hadn't been +for you, John Baxter. I was often 'up against it,' in those days, John, +and you were always ready to help, and advise me;--but now,--well, from +the look of things, I'm rather afraid that I must stay 'up against +it'--that the game is lost already, John. But which ever way Fate +decides--win, or lose,--I'm glad--yes, very glad to have learned the +true meaning of--the word, John." + +"Master George, sir,--there was a poet once--Tennyson, I think, who +said,--'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at +all,' and I know--that he was--right. Many years ago,--before you were +born, Master George, I loved--and lost, and that is how I know. But I +hope that Fortune will be kinder to you, indeed I do." + +"Thank you, John,--though I don't see why she should be." And Bellew +stood staring down at the rug again, till aroused by Baxter's cough: + +"Pray sir, what are your orders, the car is waiting downstairs?" + +"Orders?--why--er--pack your grip, Baxter, I shall take you with me, +this time, into Arcadia, Baxter." + +"For how long, sir?" + +"Probably a week." + +"Very good, sir." + +"It is now half-past three, I must be back in Dapplemere at eight. Take +your time--I'll go down to look at the machine. Just lock the place up, +and--er--don't forget the black bag." + +Some ten minutes later the great racing car set out on its journey, with +Bellew at the wheel, and Baxter beside him with the black bag held +firmly upon his knee. + +Their process was, necessarily, slow at first, on account of the crowded +thoroughfares. But, every now and then, the long, low car would shoot +forward through some gap in the traffic, grazing the hubs of bus-wheels, +dodging hansoms, shaving sudden corners in an apparently reckless +manner. But Baxter, with his hand always upon the black leather bag, sat +calm and unruffled, since he knew, by long experience, that Bellew's eye +was quick and true, and his hand firm and sure upon the wheel. + +Over Westminster Bridge, and along the Old Kent Road they sped, now +fast, now slow,--threading a tortuous, and difficult way amid the myriad +vehicles, and so, betimes, they reached Blackheath. + +And now the powerful machine hummed over that ancient road that had +aforetime, shaken to the tread of stalwart Roman Legionaries,--up +Shooter's Hill, and down,--and so into the open country. + +And, ever as they went, they talked. And not as master and servant but +as "between man and man,"--wherefore Baxter the Valet became merged and +lost in Baxter the Human,--the honest John of the old days,--a gray +haired, kindly-eyed, middle-aged cosmopolitan who listened to, and +looked at, Young Alcides beside him as if he had indeed been the Master +George, of years ago. + +"So you see, John, if all things _do_ go well with me, we should +probably take a trip to the Mediterranean." + +"In the--'Silvia,' of course, Master George?" + +"Yes; though--er--I've decided to change her name, John." + +"Ah!--very natural--under the circumstances, Master George," said honest +John, his eyes twinkling slyly as he spoke, "Now, if I might suggest a +new name it would be hard to find a more original one than 'The Haunting +Spectre of the--" + +"Bosh, John!--there never was such a thing, you were quite right, as I +said before, and--by heaven,--potato sacks!" + +"Eh,--what?--potato sacks, Master George?" + +They had been climbing a long, winding ascent, but now, having reached +the top of the hill, they overtook a great, lumbering market cart, or +wain, piled high with sacks of potatoes, and driven by an extremely +surly-faced man in a smock-frock. + +"Hallo there!" cried Bellew, slowing up, "how much for one of your +potato-sacks?" + +"Get out, now!" growled the surly-faced man, in a tone as surly as his +look, "can't ye see as they're all occipied?" + +"Well,--empty one." + +"Get out, now!" repeated the man, scowling blacker than ever. + +"I'll give you a sovereign for one." + +"Now, don't ye try to come none o' your jokes wi' me, young feller!" +growled the carter. "Sovereign!--bah!--Show us." + +"Here it is," said Bellew, holding up the coin in question. "Catch!" +and, with the word, he tossed it up to the carter who caught it, very +dexterously, looked at it, bit it, rubbed it on his sleeve, rang it upon +the foot-board of his waggon, bit it again and finally pocketed it. + +"It's a go, sir," he nodded, his scowl vanishing as by magic; and as he +spoke, he turned, seized the nearest sack, and, forthwith sent a cascade +of potatoes rolling, and bounding all over the road. Which done, he +folded up the sack, and handed it down to Bellew who thrust it under the +seat, nodded, and, throwing in the clutch, set off down the road. But, +long after the car had hummed itself out of sight, and the dust of its +going had subsided, the carter sat staring after it--open-mouthed. + +If Baxter wondered at this purchase, he said nothing, only he bent his +gaze thoughtfully upon the black leather bag that he held upon his knee. + +On they sped between fragrant hedges, under whispering trees, past +lonely cottages and farm-houses, past gate, and field, and wood, until +the sun grew low. + +At last, Bellew stopped the automobile at a place where a narrow lane, +or cart track, branched off from the high road, and wound away between +great trees. + +"I leave you here," said he as he sprang from the car, "this is +Dapplemere,--the farmhouse lies over the up-land, yonder, though you +can't see it because of the trees." + +"Is it far, Master George?" + +"About half a mile." + +"Here is the bag, sir; but--do you think it is--quite safe--?" + +"Safe, John?" + +"Under the circumstances, Master George, I think it would be advisable +to--to take this with you." And he held out a small revolver. Bellew +laughed, and shook his head. + +"Such things aren't necessary--here in Arcadia, John,--besides, I have +my stick. So good-bye, for the present, you'll stay at the 'King's +Head,'--remember." + +"Good-night, Master George, sir, goodnight! and good fortune go with +you." + +"Thank you!" said Bellew, and reached out his hand, "I think we'll shake +on that, John!" + +So they clasped hands, and Bellew turned, and set off along the grassy +lane. And, presently, as he went, he heard the hum of the car grow +rapidly fainter and fainter until it was lost in the quiet of +the evening. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +_The Conspirators_ + +The shadows were creeping down, and evening was approaching, as Bellew +took his way along that winding lane that led to the House of +Dapplemere. + +Had there been anyone to see, (which there was not), they might have +noticed something almost furtive in his manner of approach, for he +walked always under the trees where the shadows lay thickest, and +paused, once or twice, to look about him warily. Being come within sight +of the house, he turned aside, and forcing his way through a gap in the +hedge, came by a roundabout course to the farm-yard. Here, after some +search, he discovered a spade, the which, (having discarded his stick), +he took upon his shoulder, and with the black leather bag tucked under +his arm, crossed the paddock with the same degree of caution, and so, at +last, reached the orchard. On he went, always in the shadow until, at +length, he paused beneath the mighty, knotted branches of "King Arthur." +Never did conspirator glance about him with sharper eyes, or hearken +with keener ears, than did George Bellew,--or Conspirator No. One, where +he now stood beneath the protecting shadow of "King Arthur,"--or +Conspirator No. Two, as, having unfolded the potato sack, he opened the +black leather bag. + +The moon was rising broad, and yellow, but it was low as yet, and "King +Arthur" stood in impenetrable gloom,--as any other thorough-going, +self-respecting conspirator should; and now, all at once, from this +particular patch of shadow, there came a sudden sound,--a rushing +sound,--a chinking, clinking, metallic sound, and, thereafter, a crisp +rustling that was not the rustling of ordinary paper. + +And now Conspirator No. One rises, and ties the mouth of the sack with +string he had brought with him for the purpose, and setting down the +sack, bulky now and heavy, by Conspirator No. Two, takes up the spade +and begins to dig. And, in a while, having made an excavation not very +deep to be sure, but sufficient to his purpose, he deposits the sack +within, covers it with soil, treads it down, and replacing the torn sod, +carefully pats it down with the flat of his spade. Which thing +accomplished, Conspirator No. One wipes his brow, and stepping forth of +the shadow, consults his watch with anxious eye, and, thereupon, +smiles,--surely a singularly pleasing smile for the lips of an +arch-conspirator to wear. Thereafter he takes up the black bag, empty +now, shoulders the spade, and sets off, keeping once more in the +shadows, leaving Conspirator No. Two to guard their guilty secret. + +Now, as Conspirator No. One goes his shady way, he keeps his look +directed towards the rising moon, and thus he almost runs into one who +also stands amid the shadows and whose gaze is likewise fixed upon +the moon. + +"Ah?--Mr. Bellew!" exclaims a drawling voice, and Squire Cassilis turns +to regard him with his usual supercilious smile. Indeed Squire Cassilis +seems to be even more self-satisfied, and smiling than ordinary, +to-night,--or at least Bellew imagines so. + +"You are still agriculturally inclined, I see," said Mr. Cassilis, +nodding towards the spade, "though it's rather a queer time to choose +for digging, isn't it?" + +"Not at all, sir--not at all," returned Bellew solemnly, "the moon is +very nearly at the full, you will perceive." + +"Well, sir,--and what of that?" + +"When the moon is at the full, or nearly so, I generally dig, sir,--that +is to say, circumstances permitting." + +"Really," said Mr. Cassilis beginning to caress his moustache, "it seems +to me that you have very--ah--peculiar tastes, Mr. Bellew." + +"That is because you have probably never experienced the fierce joys of +moon-light digging, sir." + +"No, Mr. Bellew,--digging--as a recreation, has never appealed to me at +any time." + +"Then sir," said Bellew, shaking his head, "permit me to tell you that +you have missed a great deal. Had I the time, I should be delighted to +explain to you exactly how much, as it is--allow me to wish you a very +good evening." + +Mr. Cassilis smiled, and his teeth seemed to gleam whiter, and sharper +than ever in the moon-light: + +"Wouldn't it be rather more apropos if you said--'Good-bye' Mr. Bellew?" +he enquired. "You are leaving Dapplemere, shortly, I understand,--aren't +you?" + +"Why sir," returned Bellew, grave, and imperturbable as ever,--"it all +depends." + +"Depends!--upon what, may I ask?" + +"The moon, sir." + +"The moon?" + +"Precisely!" + +"And pray--what can the moon have to do with your departure?" + +"A great deal more than you'd think--sir. Had I the time, I should be +delighted to explain to you exactly how much, as it is,--permit me to +wish you a very--good evening!" + +Saying which, Bellew nodded affably, and, shouldering his spade, went +upon his way. And still he walked in the shadows, and still he gazed +upon the moon, but now, his thick brows were gathered in a frown, and he +was wondering just why Cassilis should chance to be here, to-night, and +what his confident air, and the general assurance of his manner might +portend; above all, he was wondering how Mr. Cassilis came to be aware +of his own impending departure. And so, at last, he came to the +rick-yard,--full of increasing doubt and misgivings. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +_How the money moon rose_ + +Evening had deepened into night,--a night of ineffable calm, a night of +an all pervading quietude. A horse snorted in the stable nearby, a dog +barked in the distance, but these sounds served only to render the +silence the more profound, by contrast. It was, indeed, a night wherein +pixies, and elves, and goblins, and fairies might weave their magic +spells, a night wherein tired humanity dreamed those dreams that seem so +hopelessly impossible by day. + +And, over all, the moon rose high, and higher, in solemn majesty, +filling the world with her pale loveliness, and brooding over it like +the gentle goddess she is. Even the distant dog seemed to feel something +of all this, for, after a futile bark or two, he gave it up altogether, +and was heard no more. + +And Bellew, gazing up at Luna's pale serenity, smiled and nodded,--as +much as to say, "You'll do!" and so stood leaning upon his spade +listening to: + + "That deep hush which seems a sigh + Breathed by Earth to listening sky." + +Now, all at once, upon this quietude there rose a voice up-raised in +fervent supplication; wherefore, treading very softly, Bellew came, and +peeping round the hay-rick, beheld Small Porges upon his knees. He was +equipped for travel and the perils of the road, for beside him lay a +stick, and tied to this stick was a bundle that bulged with his most +cherished possessions. His cheeks were wet with great tears that +glistened in the moon-beams, but he wept with eyes tight shut, and with +his small hands clasped close together, and thus he spoke,--albeit much +shaken, and hindered by sobs: + +"I s'pose you think I bother you an awful lot, dear Lord,--an' so I do, +but you haven't sent the Money Moon yet, you see, an' now my Auntie +Anthea's got to leave Dapplemere--if I don't find the fortune for her +soon. I know I'm crying a lot, an' real men don't cry,--but it's only +'cause I'm awful--lonely an' disappointed,--an' nobody can see me, so it +doesn't matter. But, dear Lord, I've looked an' looked everywhere, an' I +haven't found a single sovereign yet,--an' I've prayed to you, an' +prayed to you for the Money Moon an'--it's never come. So now, dear +Lord, I'm going to Africa, an' I want you to please take care of my +Auntie Anthea till I come back. Sometimes I'm 'fraid my prayers can't +quite manage to get up to you 'cause of the clouds, an' wind, but +to-night there isn't any, so, if they do reach you, please--Oh! please +let me find the fortune, and, if you don't mind, let--_him_ come back to +me, dear Lord,--I mean my Uncle Porges, you know. An' now--that's all, +dear Lord, so Amen!" + +As the prayer ended Bellew stole back, and coming to the gate of the +rick-yard, leaned there waiting. And, presently, as he watched, he saw a +small figure emerge from behind the big hay-stack and come striding +manfully toward him, his bundle upon his shoulder, and with the moon +bright in his curls. + +But, all at once, Small Porges saw him and stopped, and the stick and +bundle fell to the ground and lay neglected. + +"Why--my Porges!" said Bellew, a trifle huskily, perhaps, "why, +Shipmate!" and he held out his hands. Then Small Porges uttered a cry, +and came running, and next moment Big Porges had him in his arms. + +"Oh, Uncle Porges!--then you--have come back to me!" + +"Aye, aye, Shipmate." + +"Why, then--my prayers _did_ reach!" + +"Why, of course,--prayers always reach, my Porges." + +"Then, oh!--do you s'pose I shall find the fortune, too?" + +"Not a doubt of it,--just look at the moon!" + +"The--moon?" + +"Why, haven't you noticed how--er--peculiar it is to-night?" + +"Peculiar?" repeated Small Porges breathlessly, turning to look at it. + +"Why, yes, my Porges,--big, you know, and--er--yellow,--like--er--like a +very large sovereign." + +"Do you mean--Oh! do you mean--it's--the--" But here Small Porges choked +suddenly, and could only look his question. + +"The Money Moon?--Oh yes--there she is at last, my Porges! Take a good +look at her, I don't suppose we shall ever see another." + +Small Porges stood very still, and gazed up at the moon's broad, yellow +disc, and, as he looked the tears welled up in his eyes again, and a +great sob broke from him. + +"I'm so--glad!" he whispered. "So--awful--glad!" Then, suddenly, he +dashed away his tears and slipped his small, trembling hand +into Bellew's. + +"Quick, Uncle Porges!" said he, "Mr. Grimes is coming to-night, you +know--an' we must find the money in time. Where shall we look first?" + +"Well, I guess the orchard will do--to start with." + +"Then let's go--now." + +"But we shall need a couple of spades, Shipmate." + +"Oh!--must we dig?" + +"Yes,--I fancy that's a--er--digging moon, my Porges, from the look of +it. Ah! there's a spade, nice and handy, you take that and +I'll--er--I'll manage with this pitchfork." + +"But you can't dig with a--" + +"Oh! well--you can do the digging, and I'll just--er--prod, you know. +Ready?--then heave ahead, Shipmate." + +So they set out, hand in hand, spade and pitch-fork on shoulder, and +presently were come to the orchard. + +"It's an awful big place to dig up a fortune in!" said Small Porges, +glancing about. "Where do you s'pose we'd better begin?" + +"Well, Shipmate, between you and me, and the pitch-fork here, I rather +fancy 'King Arthur' knows more than most people would think. Any way, +we'll try him. You dig on that side, and I'll prod on this." + +Saying which, Bellew pointed to a certain spot where the grass looked +somewhat uneven, and peculiarly bumpy, and, bidding Small Porges get to +work, went round to the other side of the great tree. + +Being there, he took out his pipe, purely from force of habit, and stood +with it clenched in his teeth, listening to the scrape of Small +Porges' spade. + +Presently he heard a cry, a panting, breathless cry, but full of a joy +unspeakable: + +"I've got it!--Oh, Uncle Porges--I've found it!" + +Small Porges was down upon his knees, pulling and tugging at a sack he +had partially unearthed, and which, with Bellew's aid, he dragged forth +into the moonlight. In the twinkling of an eye the string was cut, and +plunging in a hand Small Porges brought up a fistful of shining +sovereigns, and, among them, a crumpled banknote. + +"It's all right, Uncle Porges!" he nodded, his voice all of a quaver. +"It's all right, now,--I've found the fortune I've prayed for,--gold, +you know, an' banknotes--in a sack. Everything will be all right again +now." And, while he spoke, he rose to his feet, and lifting the sack +with an effort, swung it across his shoulder, and set off toward +the house. + +"Is it heavy, Shipmate?" + +"Awful heavy!" he panted, "but I don't mind that--it's gold, you see!" +But, as they crossed the rose-garden, Bellew laid a restraining hand +upon his shoulder. + +"Porges," said he, "where is your Auntie Anthea?" + +"In the drawing-room, waiting for Mr. Grimes." + +"Then, come this way." And turning, Bellew led Small Porges up, and +along the terrace. + +"Now, my Porges," he admonished him, "when we come to the drawing-room +windows,--they're open, you see,--I want you to hide with me in the +shadows, and wait until I give you the word--" + +"Aye, aye, Captain!" panted Small Porges. + +"When I say 'heave ahead, Shipmate,'--why, then, you will take your +treasure upon your back and march straight into the room--you +understand?" + +"Aye, aye, Captain." + +"Why, then--come on, and--mum's the word." + +Very cautiously they approached the long French windows, and paused in +the shadow of a great rose-bush, near-by. From where he stood Bellew +could see Anthea and Miss Priscilla, and between them, sprawling in an +easy chair, was Grimes, while Adam, hat in hand, scowled in the +background. + +"All I can say is--as I'm very sorry for ye, Miss Anthea," Grimes was +saying. "Ah! that I am, but glad as you've took it so well,--no crying +nor nonsense!" Here he turned to look at Miss Priscilla, whose +everlasting sewing had fallen to her feet, and lay there all unnoticed, +while her tearful eyes were fixed upon Anthea, standing white-faced +beside her. + +"And when--when shall ye be ready to--leave, to--vacate Dapplemere, +Miss Anthea?" Grimes went on. "Not as I mean to 'urry you, mind,--only I +should like you to--name a day." + +Now, as Bellew watched, he saw Anthea's lips move, but no sound came. +Miss Priscilla saw also, and catching the nerveless hand, drew it to her +bosom, and wept over it. + +"Come! come!" expostulated Grimes, jingling the money in his pockets. +"Come, come, Miss Anthea, mam!--all as I'm axing you is--when? All as I +want you to do is--" + +But here Adam, who had been screwing and wringing at his hat, now +stepped forward and, tapping Grimes upon the shoulder, pointed to +the door: + +"Mister Grimes," said he, "Miss Anthea's told ye all as you come here to +find out,--she's told ye as she--can't pay, so now,--s'pose you--go." + +"But all I want to know is when she'll be ready to move, and I ain't a +going till I do,--so you get out o' my way!" + +"S'pose you go!" repeated Adam. + +"Get out o' my way,--d'ye hear?" + +"Because," Adam went on, "if ye don't go, Mister Grimes, the 'Old Adam' +be arising inside o' me to that degree as I shall be forced to ketch you +by the collar o' your jacket, and--heave you out, Mr. Grimes, sir,--so +s'pose you go." + +Hereupon Mr. Grimes rose, put on his hat, and muttering to himself, +stamped indignantly from the room, and Adam, shutting the door upon him, +turned to Miss Anthea, who stood white-lipped and dry-eyed, while gentle +little Miss Priscilla fondled her listless hand. + +"Don't,--don't look that way, Miss Anthea," said Adam. "I'd rayther see +you cry, than look so. It be 'ard to 'ave to let the old place +go, but--" + +"Heave ahead, Shipmate!" whispered Bellew. + +Obedient to his command Small Porges, with his burden upon his back, ran +forward, and stumbled into the room. + +"It's all right, Auntie Anthea!" he cried, "I've got the fortune for +you,--I've found the money I prayed for,--here it is, oh!--here it is!" + +The sack fell jingling to the floor, and, next moment, he had poured a +heap of shining gold and crumpled banknotes at Anthea's feet. + +For a moment no one moved, then, with a strange hoarse cry, Adam had +flung himself down upon his knees, and caught up a great handful of the +gold; then while Miss Priscilla sobbed with her arms about Small Porges, +and Anthea stared down at the treasure, wide-eyed, and with her hands +pressed down upon her heart, Adam gave a sudden, great laugh, and +springing up, came running out through the window, never spying Bellew +in his haste, and shouting as he ran: + +"Grimes!" he roared, "Oh! Grimes, come back an' be paid. Come +back--we've had our little joke wi' you,--now come back an' be paid!" + +Then, at last, Anthea's stony calm was broken, her bosom heaved with +tempestuous sobs, and, next moment, she had thrown herself upon her +knees, and had clasped her arms about Small Porges and Aunt Priscilla, +mingling kisses with her tears. As for Bellew, he turned away, and, +treading a familiar path, found himself beneath the shadow of "King +Arthur." Therefore, he sat down, and lighting his pipe, stared up at the +glory of the full-orbed moon. + +"Happiness," said he, speaking his thought aloud, "'Happiness shall come +riding astride the full moon!' Now--I wonder!" + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +_In which is verified the adage of the cup and the lip_. + +Now as he sat thus, plunged in thought, he heard the voice of one who +approached intoning a familiar chant, or refrain,--the voice was harsh, +albeit not unmusical, and the words of the chant were these: + + "When I am dead, diddle diddle, as well may hap, + Bury me deep, diddle diddle, under the tap, + Under the tap, diddle diddle, I'll tell you--" + +"Lord!" exclaimed the singer, breaking off suddenly, "be that you, Mr. +Belloo, sir?" + +"Yea, in good sooth, Adam, the very same,--but you sing, Adam?" + +"Ah!--I sing, Mr. Belloo, sir, an' if you ax me why, then I tell you +because I be 'appy-'earted an' full o' j-o-y, j'y, sir. The mortgage be +paid off at last, Mr. Belloo, sir,--Miss Anthea be out o' debt,--free, +sir,--an' all along o' Master Georgy, God bless him!" + +"Oh!" said Bellew, "--er--that's good!" + +"Good!" exclaimed Adam, "Ah, Mr. Belloo sir! it be more than good,--it's +saved Miss Anthea's home for her, and--betwixt you an' me, sir,--I think +it's saved her too. An' it be all along o' that Master Georgy! Lord sir! +many's the time as I've watched that theer blessed b'y a-seekin', an' +a-searchin', a pokin' an' a pryin' round the place a-lookin' for 'is +fortun',--but, Lord bless my eyes an' limbs, sir!--I never thought as +he'd find nothin'." + +"Why, of course not, Adam." + +"Ah!--but that's jest where I were mistook, Mr. Belloo, sir,--because 'e +did." + +"Did what, Adam?" + +"Found the fortun' as he were always a-lookin' for,--a sack o' golden +soverings, sir, an' bank-notes, Mr. Belloo, sir,--bushels on 'em; +enough--ah! more 'n enough to pay off that mortgage, and to send that +theer old Grimes about his business,--an' away from Dapplemere for good +an' all, sir." + +"So Grimes is really paid off, then, is he, Adam?" + +"I done it myself, sir,--wi' these here two 'ands,--Three thousand pound +I counted over to him, an' five hundred more--in banknotes, sir, while +Miss Anthea sat by like one in a dream. Altogether there were five +thousand pound as that blessed b'y dug up out o' the orchard--done up +all in a pertater sack, under this very i-dentical tree as you'm a +set-tin' under Mr. Belloo sir. E'cod, I be half minded to take a shovel +and have a try at fortun'-huntin' myself,--only there ain't much chance +o' findin' another, hereabouts; besides--that b'y prayed for that +fortun', ah! long, an' hard he prayed, Mr. Belloo sir, an'--'twixt you +an' me, sir, I ain't been much of a pray-er myself since my old mother +died. Anyhow, the mortgage be paid off, sir, Miss Anthea's free, an' +'tis joy'ful, an' 'appy-'earted I be this night. Prudence an' me'll be +gettin' married soon now,--an' when I think of her cookin'--Lord, Mr. +Belloo sir!--All as I say is God bless Master Georgy! Good-night, sir! +an' may your dreams be as 'appy as mine,--always supposin' I do dream, +--which is seldom. Good-night, sir!" + +Long after Adam's cheery whistle had died away, Bellew sat, pipe in +mouth, staring up at the moon. At length, however, he rose, and turned +his steps towards the house. + +"Mr. Bellew!" + +He started, and turning, saw Anthea standing amid her roses. For a +moment they looked upon each other in silence, as though each dreaded to +speak, then suddenly, she turned, and broke a great rose from its stem, +and stood twisting it between her fingers. + +"Why did you--do it?" she asked. + +"Do it?" he repeated. + +"I mean the--fortune. Georgy told me--how you--helped him to find it, +and I--_know_ how it came there, of course. Why did you--do it?" + +"You didn't tell him--how it came there?" asked Bellew anxiously. + +"No," she answered, "I think it would break his heart--if he knew." + +"And I think it would have broken his heart if he had never found it," +said Bellew, "and I couldn't let that happen, could I?" Anthea did not +answer, and he saw that her eyes were very bright in the shadow of her +lashes though she kept them lowered to the rose in her fingers. + +"Anthea!" said he, suddenly, and reached out his hand to her. But she +started and drew from his touch. + +"Don't!" she said, speaking almost in a whisper, "don't touch me. Oh! I +know you have paid off the mortgage--you have bought back my home for me +as you bought back my furniture! Why?--why? I was nothing to you, or you +to me,--why have you laid me under this obligation,--you know I can +never hope to return your money--oh! why,--why did you do it?" + +"Because I--love you, Anthea, have loved you from the first. Because +everything I possess in this world is yours--even as I am." + +"You forget!" she broke in proudly, "you forget--" + +"Everything but my love for you, Anthea,--everything but that I want you +for my wife. I'm not much of a fellow, I know, but--could you learn +to--love me enough to--marry me--some day, Anthea?" + +"Would you have--dared to say this to me--before to-night?--before your +money had bought back the roof over my head? Oh! haven't I been +humiliated enough? You--you have taken from me the only thing I had +left--my independence,--stolen it from me! Oh! hadn't I been +shamed enough?" + +Now, as she spoke, she saw that his eyes were grown suddenly big and +fierce, and, in that moment, her hands were caught in his +powerful clasp. + +"Let me go!" she cried. + +"No," said he, shaking his head, "not until you tell me if you--love me. +Speak, Anthea." + +"Loose my hands!" She threw up her head proudly, and her eyes gleamed, +and her cheeks flamed with sudden anger. "Loose me!" she repeated. But +Bellew only shook his head, and his chin seemed rather more prominent +than usual, as he answered: + +"Tell me that you love me, or that you hate me--whichever it is, but, +until you do--" + +"You--hurt me!" said she, and then, as his fingers relaxed,--with a +sudden passionate cry, she had broken free; but, even so, he had caught +and swept her up in his arms, and held her close against his breast. And +now, feeling the hopelessness of further struggle, she lay passive, +while her eyes flamed up into his, and his eyes looked down into hers. +Her long, thick hair had come loose, and now with a sudden, quick +gesture, she drew it across her face, veiling it from him; wherefore, he +stooped his head above those lustrous tresses. + +"Anthea!" he murmured, and the masterful voice was strangely hesitating, +and the masterful arms about her were wonderfully gentle, "Anthea--do +you--love me?" Lower he bent, and lower, until his lips touched her +hair, until beneath that fragrant veil, his mouth sought, and found, +hers, and, in that breathless moment, he felt them quiver responsive to +his caress. And then, he had set her down, she was free, and he was +looking at her with a new-found radiance in his eyes. + +"Anthea!" he said, wonderingly, "why then--you do--?" But, as he spoke, +she hid her face in her hands. + +"Anthea!" he repeated. + +"Oh!" she whispered, "I--hate you!--despise you! Oh! you shall be paid +back,--every penny,--every farthing, and--very soon! Next week--I marry +Mr. Cassilis!" + +And so, she turned, and fled away, and left him standing there amid the +roses. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +_Which tells how Bellew left Dapplemere in the dawn_ + +Far in the East a grey streak marked the advent of another day, and upon +all things was a solemn hush, a great, and awful stillness that was like +the stillness of Death. The Earth was a place of gloom, and mist, where +spectral shadows writhed, and twisted, and flitted under a frowning +heaven, and out of the gloom there came a breath, sharp, and damp, and +exceeding chill. + +Therefore, as Bellew gazed down from the frowning Heaven to the gloom of +Earth, below, with its ever-moving, misty shapes, he shivered +involuntarily. + +In another hour it would be day, and with the day, the gates of Arcadia +would open for his departure, and he must go forth to become once more a +wanderer, going up and down, and to and fro in the world until his +course was run. + +And yet it was worth having lived for, this one golden month, and in all +his wanderings needs must he carry with him the memory of her who had +taught him how deep and high, how wide and infinitely far-reaching that +thing called "Love" may really be. + +And--Porges!--dear, quaint, Small Porges! where under heaven could he +ever find again such utter faith, such pure unaffected loyalty and +devotion as throbbed within that small, warm heart? How could he ever +bid "Good-bye" to loving, eager, little Small Porges? + +And then there was Miss Priscilla, and the strong, gentle Sergeant, and +Peterday, and sturdy Adam, and Prudence, and the rosy-cheeked maids. How +well they all suited this wonderful Arcadia! Yes, indeed he, and he +only, had been out of place, and so--he must go--back to the every-day, +matter-of-fact world, but how could he ever say "Good-bye" to faithful, +loving Small Porges? + +Far in the East the grey streak had brightened, and broadened, and was +already tinged with a faint pink that deepened, and deepened, as he +watched. Bellew had seen the glory of many a sun-rise in divers wild +places of the Earth, and, hitherto, had always felt deep within him, the +responsive thrill, the exhilaration of hope new born, and joyful +expectation of the great, unknown Future. But now, he watched the +varying hues of pink, and scarlet, and saffron, and gold, with gloomy +brow, and sombre eyes. + +Now presently, the Black-bird who lived in the apple-tree beneath his +window, (the tree of the inquisitive turn of mind), this Black-bird +fellow, opening a drowsy eye, must needs give vent to a croak, very +hoarse and feeble; then, (apparently having yawned prodigiously and +stretched himself, wing, and leg), he tried a couple of notes,--in a +hesitating, tentative sort of fashion, shook himself,--repeated the two +notes,--tried three, found them mellower, and more what the waiting +world very justly expected of him; grew more confident; tried four; +tried five,--grew perfectly assured, and so burst forth into the full, +golden melody of his morning song. + +Then Bellew, leaning out from his casement, as the first bright beams of +the rising sun gilded the top-most leaves of the tree, thus +apostrophised the unseen singer: + +"I suppose you will be piping away down in your tree there, old fellow, +long after Arcadia has faded out of my life. Well, it will be only +natural, and perfectly right, of course,--She will be here, and may, +perhaps, stop to listen to you. Now if, somehow, you could manage to +compose for me a Song of Memory, some evening when I'm gone,--some +evening when She happens to be sitting idle, and watching the moon rise +over the upland yonder; if, at such a time, you could just manage to +remind her of--me, why--I'd thank you. And so,--Good-bye, old fellow!" + +Saying which, Bellew turned from the window, and took up a certain +bulging, be-strapped portmanteau, while the Black-bird, (having, +evidently, hearkened to his request with much grave attention), fell a +singing more gloriously than ever. + +Meanwhile, Bellew descended the great, wide stair, soft of foot, and +cautious of step, yet pausing once to look towards a certain closed +door, and so, presently let himself quietly out into the dawn. The dew +sparkled in the grass, it hung in glittering jewels from every leaf, and +twig, while, now and then, a shining drop would fall upon him as he +passed, like a great tear. + +Now, as he reached the orchard, up rose the sun in all his majesty +filling the world with the splendour of his coming,--before whose kindly +beams the skulking mists and shadows shrank affrighted, and fled +utterly away. + +This morning, "King Arthur" wore his grandest robes of state, for his +mantle of green was thick sewn with a myriad flaming gems; very +different he looked from that dark, shrouded giant who had so lately +been Conspirator No. Two. Yet, perhaps for this very reason, Bellew +paused to lay a hand upon his mighty, rugged hole, and, doing so, turned +and looked back at the House of Dapplemere. + +And truly never had the old house seemed so beautiful, so quaint, and +peaceful as now. It's every stone and beam had become familiar and, as +he looked, seemed to find an individuality of its own, the very lattices +seemed to look back at him, like so many wistful eyes. + +Therefore George Bellew, American Citizen, millionaire, traveller, +explorer, and--LOVER, sighed as he turned away,--sighed as he strode on +through the green and golden morning, and resolutely--looked back +no more. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +_Of the moon's message to Small Porges, and how he told it to Bellew--in +a whisper_ + +Bellew walked on at a good pace with his back turned resolutely towards +the House of Dapplemere, and thus, as he swung into that narrow, grassy +lane that wound away between trees, he was much surprised to hear a +distant hail. Facing sharp about he espied a diminutive figure whose +small legs trotted very fast, and whose small fist waved a +weather-beaten cap. + +Bellew's first impulse was to turn, and run. But Bellew rarely acted on +impulse; therefore, he set down the bulging portmanteau, seated himself +upon it, and taking out pipe and tobacco, waited for his pursuer to +come up. + +"Oh Uncle Porges!" panted a voice, "you did walk so awful fast, an' I +called, an' called, but you never heard. An' now, please,--where are +you going?" + +"Going," said Bellew, searching through his pockets for a match, "going, +my Porges, why--er--for a stroll, to be sure,--just a walk before +breakfast, you know." + +"But then--why have you brought your bag?" + +"Bag!" repeated Bellew, stooping down to look at it, "why--so--I have!" + +"Please--why?" persisted Small Porges, suddenly anxious. "Why did +you--bring it?" + +"Well, I expect it was to--er--to bear me company. But how is it you are +out so very early, my Porges?" + +"Why, I couldn't sleep, last night, you know, 'cause I kept on thinking, +and thinking 'bout the fortune. So I got up--in the middle of the night, +an' dressed myself, an' sat in the big chair by the window, an' looked +at the Money Moon. An' I stared at it, an' stared at it till a wonderful +thing happened,--an' what do you s'pose?" + +"I don't know." + +"Well,--all at once, while I stared up at it, the moon changed itself +into a great, big face; but I didn't mind a bit, 'cause it was a very +nice sort of face,--rather like a gnome's face, only without the beard, +you know. An' while I looked at it, it talked to me, an' it told me a +lot of things,--an' that's how I know that you are--going away, 'cause +you are, you know,--aren't you?" + +"Why, my Porges," said Bellew, fumbling with his pipe, "why Shipmate, +I--since you ask me--I am." + +"Yes, I was 'fraid the moon was right," said Small Porges, and turned +away. But Bellew had seen the stricken look in his eyes, therefore he +took Small Porges in the circle of his big arm, and holding him thus, +explained to him how that in this great world each of us must walk his +appointed way, and that there must, and always will be, partings, but +that also there must and always shall be, meetings: + +"And so, my Porges, if we have to say 'Good-bye' now,--the sooner we +shall meet again,--some day--somewhere." + +But Small Porges only sighed, and shook his head in hopeless dejection. + +"Does--she--know you're going,--I mean my Auntie Anthea?" + +"Oh yes, she knows, Porges." + +"Then I s'pose that's why she was crying so, in the night--" + +"Crying?" + +"Yes;--she's cried an awful lot lately, hasn't she? Last night,--when I +woke up, you know, an' couldn't sleep, I went into her room, an' she was +crying--with her face hidden in the pillow, an' her hair all +about her--" + +"Crying!" + +"Yes; an' she said she wished she was dead. So then, a course, I tried +to comfort her, you know. An' she said 'I'm a dreadful failure, Georgy +dear, with the farm, an' everything else. I've tried to be a father and +mother to you, an' I've failed in that too,--so now, I'm going to give +you a real father,'--an' she told me she was going to marry--Mr. +Cassilis. But I said 'No'--'cause I'd 'ranged for her to marry you an' +live happy ever after. But she got awful angry again an' said she'd +never marry you if you were the last man in the world--'cause she +'spised you so--" + +"And that would seem to--settle it!" nodded Bellew gloomily, "so it's +'Good-bye' my Porges! We may as well shake hands now, and get it over," +and Bellew rose from the portmanteau, and sighing, held out his hand. + +"Oh!--but wait a minute!" cried Small Porges eagerly, "I haven't told +you what the Moon said to me, last night--" + +"Ah!--to be sure, we were forgetting that!" said Bellew with an absent +look, and a trifle wearily. + +"Why then--please sit down again, so I can speak into your ear, 'cause +what the Moon told me to tell you was a secret, you know." + +So, perforce, Bellew re-seated himself upon his portmanteau, and drawing +Small Porges close, bent his head down to the anxious little face; and +so, Small Porges told him exactly what the Moon had said. And the Moon's +message, (whatever it was), seemed to be very short, and concise, (as +all really important messages should be); but these few words had a +wondrous, and magical effect upon George Bellew. For a moment he stared +wide-eyed at Small Porges like one awaking from a dream, then the gloom +vanished from his brow, and he sprang to his feet. And, being upon his +feet, he smote his clenched fist down into the palm of his hand with a +resounding smack. + +"By heaven!" he exclaimed, and took a turn to and fro across the width +of the lane, and seeing Small Porges watching him, caught him suddenly +up in his arms, and hugged him. + +"And the moon will be at the full, tonight!" said he. Thereafter he sat +him down upon his portmanteau again, with Small Porges upon his knee, +and they talked confidentially together with their heads very close +together and in muffled tones. + +When, at last, Bellew rose, his eyes were bright and eager, and his +square chin, prominent, and grimly resolute. + +"So--you quite understand, my Porges?" + +"Yes, yes--Oh I understand!" + +"Where the little bridge spans the brook,--the trees are thicker, +there." + +"Aye aye, Captain!" + +"Then--fare thee well, Shipmate! Goodbye, my Porges,--and remember!" + +So they clasped hands, very solemnly, Big Porges, and Small Porges, and +turned each his appointed way, the one up, the other down, the lane. But +lo! as they went Small Porges' tears were banished quite; and Bellew +strode upon his way, his head held high, his shoulders squared, like one +in whom Hope has been newborn. + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +_How Anthea gave her promise_ + +"And so--he--has really gone!" Miss Priscilla sighed as she spoke, and +looked up from her needle-work to watch Anthea who sat biting her pen, +and frowning down at the blank sheet of paper before her. "And so, he +is--really--gone?" + +"Who--Mr. Bellew? Oh yes!" + +"He went--very early!" + +"Yes." + +"And--without any breakfast!" + +"That was--his own fault!" said Anthea. + +"And without even--saying 'Good-bye'!" + +"Perhaps he was in a hurry," Anthea suggested. + +"Oh dear me, no my dear! I don't believe Mr. Bellew was ever in a hurry +in all his life." + +"No," said Anthea, giving her pen a vicious bite, "I don't believe he +ever was; he is always so--hatefully placid, and deliberate!" and here, +she bit her pen again. + +"Eh, my dear?" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, pausing with her needle in +mid-air, "did you say--hatefully?" + +"Yes." + +"Anthea!" + +"I--hate him, Aunt Priscilla!" + +"Eh?--My dear!" + +"That was why I--sent him away." + +"You--sent him away?" + +"Yes." + +"But--Anthea--why?" + +"Oh Aunt Priscilla!--surely you never--believed in the--fortune? Surely +you guessed it was--_his_ money that paid back the mortgage,--didn't +you, Aunt,--didn't you?" + +"Well, my dear--. But then--he did it so very--tactfully, and--and--I +had hoped, my dear that--" + +"That I should--marry him, and settle the obligation that way, perhaps?" + +"Well, yes my dear, I did hope so--" + +"Oh!--I'm going to marry--" + +"Then why did you send--" + +"I'm going to marry Mr. Cassilis--whenever he pleases!" + +"Anthea!" The word was a cry, and her needle-work slipped from Miss +Priscilla's nerveless fingers. + +"He asked me to write and tell him if ever I changed my mind--" + +"Oh--my dear! my dear!" cried Miss Priscilla reaching out imploring +hands, "you never mean it,--you are all distraught to-day--tired, and +worn out with worry, and loss of sleep,--wait!" + +"Wait!" repeated Anthea bitterly, "for what?" + +"To--marry--him! O Anthea! you never mean it? Think,--think what you are +doing." + +"I thought of it all last night, Aunt Priscilla, and all this morning, +and--I have made up my mind." + +"You mean to write--?" + +"Yes." + +"To tell Mr. Cassilis that you will--marry him?" + +"Yes." + +But now Miss Priscilla rose, and, next moment, was kneeling beside +Anthea's chair. + +"Oh my dear!" she pleaded, "you that I love like my own flesh and +blood,--don't! Oh Anthea! don't do what can never be undone. Don't give +your youth and beauty to one who can never--never make you happy,--Oh +Anthea--!" + +"Dear Aunt Priscilla, I would rather marry one I don't love than have to +live beholden all my days to a man that I--hate!" Now, as she spoke, +though her embrace was as ready, and her hands as gentle as ever, yet +Miss Priscilla saw that her proud face was set, and stern. So, she +presently rose, sighing, and taking her little crutch stick, tapped +dolefully away, and left Anthea to write her letter. + +And now, hesitating no more, Anthea took up her pen, and wrote,--surely +a very short missive for a love-letter. And, when she had folded, and +sealed it, she tossed it aside, and laying her arms upon the table, hid +her face, with a long, shuddering sigh. + +In a little while, she rose, and taking up the letter, went out to find +Adam; but remembering that he had gone to Cranbrook with Small Porges, +she paused irresolute, and then turned her steps toward the orchard. +Hearing voices, she stopped again, and glancing about, espied the +Sergeant, and Miss Priscilla. She had given both her hands into the +Sergeant's one, great, solitary fist, and he was looking down at her, +and she was looking up at him, and upon the face of each, was a great +and shining joy. + +And, seeing all this, Anthea felt herself very lonely all at once, and, +turning aside, saw all things through a blur of sudden tears. She was +possessed, also, of a sudden, fierce loathing of the future, a horror +because of the promise her letter contained. Nevertheless she was firm, +and resolute on her course because of the pride that burned within her. + +So thus it was that as the Sergeant presently came striding along on his +homeward way, he was suddenly aware of Miss Anthea standing before him; +whereupon he halted, and removing his hat, wished her a +"good-afternoon!" + +"Sergeant," said she, "will you do something for me?" + +"Anything you ask me, Miss Anthea, mam,--ever and always." + +"I want you to take this letter to--Mr. Cassilis,--will you?" + +The Sergeant hesitated unwontedly, turning his hat about and about in +his hand, finally he put it on, out of the way. + +"Will you, Sergeant?" + +"Since you ask me--Miss Anthea mam--I will." + +"Give it into his own hand." + +"Miss Anthea mam--I will." + +"Thank you!--here it is, Sergeant." And so she turned, and was gone, +leaving the Sergeant staring down at the letter in his hand, and shaking +his head over it. + +Anthea walked on hastily, never looking behind, and so, coming back to +the house, threw herself down by the open window, and stared out with +unseeing eyes at the roses nodding slumberous heads in the +gentle breeze. + +So the irrevocable step was taken! She had given her promise to marry +Cassilis whenever he would, and must abide by it! Too late now, any hope +of retreat, she had deliberately chosen her course, and must follow +it--to the end. + +"Begging your pardon, Miss Anthea mam--!" + +She started, and glancing round, espied Adam. + +"Oh!--you startled me, Adam,--what is it?" + +"Begging your pardon, Miss Anthea, but is it true as Mr. Belloo be gone +away--for good?" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"Why then all I can say is--as I'm sorry,--ah! mortal sorry I be, an' my +'eart, mam, my 'eart likewise gloomy." + +"Were you so--fond of him, Adam?" + +"Well, Miss Anthea,--considering as he were--the best, good-naturedest, +properest kind o' gentleman as ever was; when I tell you as over an' +above all this, he could use his fists better than any man as ever I +see,--him having knocked me into a dry ditch, though, to be sure I +likewise drawed his claret,--begging your pardon, I'm sure, Miss Anthea; +all of which happened on account o' me finding him a-sleeping in your +'ay, mam;--when I tell you furthermore, as he treated me ever as a man, +an' wern't noways above shaking my 'and, or smoking a pipe wi' +me--sociable like; when I tell you as he were the finest gentleman, and +properest man as ever I knowed, or heard tell on,--why, I think as the +word 'fond' be about the size of it, Miss Anthea mam!" saying which, +Adam nodded several times, and bestowed an emphatic backhanded knock to +the crown of his hat. + +"You used to sit together very often--under the big apple tree, didn't +you, Adam?" + +"Ah!--many an' many a night, Miss Anthea." + +"Did he--ever tell you--much of his--life, Adam?" + +"Why yes, Miss Anthea,--told me summat about his travels, told me as +he'd shot lions, an' tigers--away out in India, an' Africa." + +"Did he ever mention--" + +"Well, Miss Anthea?" said he enquiringly, seeing she had paused. + +"Did he ever speak of--the--lady he is going to marry?" + +"Lady?" repeated Adam, giving a sudden twist to his hat. + +"Yes,--the lady--who lives in London?" + +"No, Miss Anthea," answered Adam, screwing his hat tighter, and tighter. + +"Why--what do you mean?" + +"I mean--as there never was no lady, Miss Anthea,--neither up to Lonnon, +nor nowhere's else, as I ever heard on." + +"But--oh Adam!--you--told me--" + +"Ah!--for sure I told ye, but it were a lie, Miss Anthea,--leastways, it +weren't the truth. Ye see, I were afraid as you'd refuse to take the +money for the furnitur' unless I made ye believe as he wanted it +uncommon bad. So I up an' told ye as he'd bought it all on account o' +him being matrimonially took wi' a young lady up to Lonnon--" + +"And then--you went to--him, and warned him--told him of the story you +had invented?" + +"I did, Miss Anthea; at first, I thought as he were going to up an' give +me one for myself, but, arterwards he took it very quiet, an' told me as +I'd done quite right, an' agreed to play the game. An' that's all about +it, an' glad I am as it be off my mind at last. Ah' now, Miss Anthea +mam, seeing you're that rich--wi' Master Georgy's fortun',--why you can +pay back for the furnitur'--if so be you're minded to. An' I hope as you +agree wi' me as I done it all for the best, Miss Anthea?" + +Here, Adam unscrewed his hat, and knocked out the wrinkles against his +knee, which done, he glanced at Anthea: + +"Why--what is it, Miss Anthea?" + +"Nothing, Adam,--I haven't slept well, lately--that's all" + +"Ah, well!--you'll be all right again now,--we all shall,--now the +mortgage be paid off,--shan't we, Miss Anthea?" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"We 'ad a great day--over to Cranbrook, Master Georgy an' me, he be in +the kitchen now, wi' Prudence--a-eating of bread an' jam. Good-night, +Miss Anthea mam, if you should be wanting me again I shall be in the +stables,--Good-night, Miss Anthea!" So, honest, well-meaning Adam +touched his forehead with a square-ended finger, and trudged away. But +Anthea sat there, very still, with drooping head, and vacant eyes. + +And so it was done, the irrevocable step had been taken; she had given +her promise! So now, having chosen her course, she must follow +it--to the end. + +For, in Arcadia, it would seem that a promise is still a sacred thing. + +Now, in a while, lifting her eyes, they encountered those of the smiling +Cavalier above the mantel. Then, as she looked, she stretched out her +arms with a sudden yearning gesture: + +"Oh!" she whispered, "if I were only--just a picture, like you." + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +_Which, being the last, is, very properly, the longest in the book_ + +In those benighted days when men went abroad cased in steel, and, upon +very slight provocation, were wont to smite each other with axes, and +clubs, to buffet and skewer each other with spears, lances, swords, and +divers other barbarous engines, yet, in that dark, and doughty age, +ignorant though they were of all those smug maxims, and excellent +moralities with which we are so happily blessed,--even in that +unhallowed day, when the solemn tread of the policeman's foot was all +unknown,--they had evolved for themselves a code of rules whereby to +govern their life, and conduct. Amongst these, it was tacitly agreed +upon, and understood, that a spoken promise was a pledge, and held to be +a very sacred thing, and he who broke faith, committed all the cardinal +sins. Indeed their laws were very few, and simple, easily understood, +and well calculated to govern man's conduct to his fellow. In this day +of ours, ablaze with learning, and culture,--veneered with a fine +civilization, our laws are complex beyond all knowing and expression; +man regulates his conduct--to them,--and is as virtuous, and honest as +the law compels him to be. + +This is the age of Money, and, therefore, an irreverent age; it is also +the age of Respectability (with a very large R),--and the +policeman's bludgeon. + +But in Arcadia--because it is an old-world place where life follows an +even, simple course, where money is as scarce as roguery, the old law +still holds; a promise once given, is a sacred obligation, and not to be +set aside. + +Even the Black-bird, who lived in the inquisitive apple tree, +understood, and was aware of this, it had been born in him, and had +grown with his feathers. Therefore,--though, to be sure, he had spoken +no promise, signed no bond, nor affixed his mark to any agreement, still +he had, nevertheless, borne in mind a certain request preferred to him +when the day was very young. Thus, with a constancy of purpose worthy of +all imitation, he had given all his mind, and thought, to the +composition of a song with a new theme. He had applied himself to it +most industriously all day long, and now, as the sun began to set, he +had at last corked it all out,--every note, every quaver, and trill; +and, perched upon a look-out branch, he kept his bold, bright eye turned +toward a certain rustic seat hard by, uttering a melodious note or two, +every now and then, from pure impatience. + +And presently, sure enough, he spied her for whom he waited,--the tall, +long limbed, supple-waisted creature--whose skin was pink and gold like +the peaches and apricots in the garden, and with soft, little rings of +hair that would have made such an excellent lining to a nest. From this +strictly utilitarian point of view he had often admired her hair, (had +this Black-bird fellow), as she passed to and fro among her flowers, or +paused to look up at him and listen to his song, or even sometimes to +speak to him in her sweet, low voice. + +But to-day she seemed to have forgotten him altogether, she did not even +glance his way, indeed she walked with bent head, and seemed to keep her +eyes always upon the ground. + +Therefore the black-bird hopped a little further along the branch, and +peered over to look down at her with first one round eye, and then the +other, as she sank upon the seat, near by, and leaned her head wearily +against the great tree, behind. And thus he saw, upon the pint and gold +of her cheek, something that shone, and twinkled like a drop of dew. + +If the Black-bird wondered at this, and was inclined to be curious, he +sturdily repressed the weakness,--for here was the audience--seated, +and waiting--all expectation for him to begin. + +So, without more ado, he settled himself upon the bough, lifted his +head, stretched his throat, and, from his yellow bill, poured forth a +flood of golden melody as he burst forth into his "Song of Memory." + +And what a song it was!--so full of passionate entreaty, of tender +pleading, of haunting sweetness, that, as she listened, the bright drop +quivering upon her lashes, fell and was succeeded by another, and +another. Nor did she attempt to check them, or wipe them away, only she +sat and listened with her heavy head pillowed against the great tree, +while the Blackbird, glancing down at her every now and then with +critical eye to mark the effect of some particularly difficult passage, +piped surely as he had never done before, until the listener's proud +face sank lower and lower, and was, at last, hidden in her hands. Seeing +which, the Black-bird, like the true artist he was, fearing an +anti-climax, very presently ended his song with a long-drawn, +plaintive note. + +But Anthea sat there with her proud head bowed low, long after he had +retired for the night. And the sun went down, and the shadows came +creeping stealthily about her, and the moon began to rise, big and +yellow, over the up-land; but Anthea still sat there with her head, once +more resting wearily against "King Arthur," watching the deepening +shadows until she was roused by Small Porges' hand upon hers and his +voice saying: + +"Why,--I do believe you're crying, Auntie Anthea, an' why are you +here--all alone, an' by yourself?" + +"I was listening to the Black-bird, dear,--I never heard him sing quite +so--beautifully, before." + +"But black-birds don't make people cry,--an' I know you've been +crying--'cause you sound--all quivery, you know." + +"Do I, Georgy?" + +"Yes,--is it 'cause you feel--lonely?" + +"Yes dear." + +"You've cried an awful lot, lately, Auntie Anthea." + +"Have I, dear?" + +"Yes,--an' it--worries me, you know." + +"I'm afraid I've been a great responsibility to you, Georgy dear," said +she with a rueful little laugh. + +"'Fraid you have; but I don' mind the 'sponsibility,--'I'll always take +care of you, you know!" nodded Small Porges, sitting down, the better to +get his arm protectingly about her, while Anthea stooped to kiss the top +of his curly head. "I promised my Uncle Porges I'd always take care of +you, an' so I will!" + +"Yes, dear." + +"Uncle Porges told me--" + +"Never mind, dear,--don' let's talk of--him." + +"Do you still--hate him, then, Auntie Anthea?" + +"Hush, dear!--it's very wrong to--hate people." + +"Yes, a course it is! Then--perhaps, if you don't hate him any more--you +like him a bit,--jest a--teeny bit, you know?" + +"Why--there's the clock striking half-past eight, Georgy!" + +"Yes, I hear it,--but--do you,--the teeniest bit? Oh! can't you like him +jest a bit--for my sake, Auntie Anthea? I'm always trying to please +you,--an' I found you the fortune, you know, so now I want you to please +me,--an' tell me you like him--for my sake." + +"But--Oh Georgy dear!--you don't understand." + +"--'cause you see," Small Porges, continued, "after all, I found him for +you--under a hedge, you know--" + +"Ah!--why did you, Georgy dear? We were so happy--before--he came--" + +"But you couldn't have been, you know; you weren't married--even then, +so you couldn't have been really happy, you know;" said Small Porges +shaking his head. + +"Why Georgy--what do you mean?" + +"Well, Uncle Porges told me that nobody can live happy--ever after, +unless they're married--first. So that was why I 'ranged for him to +marry you, so you could _both_ be happy, an' all revelry an' joy,--like +the fairy tale, you know." + +"But, you see, we aren't in a fairy tale, dear, so I'm afraid we must +make the best of things as they are!" and here she sighed again, and +rose. "Come, Georgy, it's much later than I thought, and quite time you +were in bed, dear." + +"All right, Auntie Anthea,--only--don't you think it's jest a bit--cruel +to send a boy to bed so very early, an' when the moon's so big, an' +everything looks so--frightfully fine? 'sides--" + +"Well, what now?" she asked, a little wearily as, obedient to his +pleading gesture, she sat down again. + +"Why, you haven't answered my question yet, you know." + +"What question?" said she, not looking at him. + +"'Bout my--Uncle Porges." + +"But Georgy--I--" + +"You do like him--jest a bit--don't you?--please?" Small Porges was +standing before her as he waited for her answer, but now, seeing how she +hesitated, and avoided his eyes, he put one small hand beneath the +dimple in her chin, so that she was forced to look at him. + +"You do, please,--don't you?" he pleaded. + +Anthea hesitated; but, after all,--_He_ was gone, and nobody could hear; +and Small Porges was so very small; and who could resist the entreaty in +his big, wistful eyes? surely not Anthea. Therefore, with a sudden +gesture of abandonment, she leaned forward in his embrace, and rested +her weary head against his manly, small shoulder: + +"Yes!" she whispered. + +"Jest as much as you like--Mr. Cassilis?" he whispered back. + +"Yes!" + +"A--bit more--jest a teeny bit more?" + +"Yes!" + +"A--lot more,--lots an' lots,--oceans more?" + +"Yes!" + +The word was spoken, and, having uttered it, Anthea grew suddenly hot +with shame, and mightily angry with herself, and would, straightway, +have given the world to have it unsaid; the more so, as she felt Small +Porges' clasp tighten joyfully, and, looking up, fancied she read +something like triumph in his look. + +She drew away from him, rather hastily, and rose to her feet. + +"Come!" said she, speaking now in a vastly different tone, "it must be +getting very late--" + +"Yes, I s'pecks it'll soon be nine o'clock, now!" he nodded. + +"Then you ought to be in bed, fast asleep instead of talking +such--nonsense, out here. So--come along--at once, sir!" + +"But, can't I stay up--jest a little while? You see--" + +"No!" + +"You see, it's such a--magnif'cent night! It feels as though--things +might happen!" + +"Don't be so silly!" + +"Well, but it does, you know." + +"What do you mean--what things?" + +"Well, it feels--gnomy, to me. I s'pecks there's lots of elves +about--hidden in the shadows, you know, an' peeping at us." + +"There aren't any elves,--or gnomes," said Anthea petulantly, for she +was still furiously angry with herself. + +"But my Uncle Porges told me--" + +"Oh!" cried Anthea, stamping her foot suddenly, "can't you talk of +anyone, or anything but--him? I'm tired to death of him and his +very name!" + +"But I thought you liked him--an awful lot, an'--" + +"Well, I don't!" + +"But, you said--" + +"Never mind what I said! It's time you were in bed asleep,--so come +along--at once, sir!" + +So they went on through the orchard together, very silently, for Small +Porges was inclined to be indignant, but much more inclined to be hurt. +Thus, they had not gone so very far, when he spoke, in a voice that he +would have described as--quivery. + +"Don't you think that you're--just the teeniest bit--cruel to me, Auntie +Anthea?" he enquired wistfully, "after I prayed an' prayed till I found +a fortune for you!--don't you, please?" Surely Anthea was a creature of +moods, to-night, for, even while he spoke, she stopped, and turned, and +fell on her knees, and caught him in her arms, kissing him many times: + +"Yes,--yes, dear, I'm hateful to you,--horrid to you! But I don't mean +to be. There!--forgive me!" + +"Oh!--it's all right again, now, Auntie Anthea, thank you. I only +thought you were jest a bit--hard, 'cause it is such a--magnif'cent +night, isn't it?" + +"Yes dear; and perhaps there are gnomes, and pixies about. Anyhow, we +can pretend there are, if you like, as we used to--" + +"Oh will you? that would be fine! Then, please, may I go with you--as +far as the brook? We'll wander, you know,--I've never wandered with you +in the moonlight,--an' I do love to hear the brook talking to +itself,--so--will you wander--jest this once?" + +"Well," said Anthea, hesitating, "it's very late!--" + +"Nearly nine o 'clock, yes! But Oh!--please don't forget that I found a +fortune for you--" + +"Very well," she smiled, "just this once." + +Now as they went together, hand in hand through the moonlight, Small +Porges talked very fast, and very much at random, while his eyes, +bright, and eager, glanced expectantly towards every patch of +shadow,--doubtless in search of gnomes, and pixies. + +But Anthea saw nothing of this, heard nothing of the suppressed +excitement in his voice, for she was thinking that by now, Mr. Cassilis +had read her letter,--that he might, even then, be on his way to +Dapplemere. She even fancied, once or twice, that she could hear the +gallop of his horse's hoofs. And, when he came, he would want +to--kiss her! + +"Why do you shiver so, Auntie Anthea, are you cold?" + +"No, dear." + +"Well, then, why are you so quiet to me,--I've asked you a +question--three times." + +"Have you dear? I--I was thinking; what was the question?" + +"I was asking you if you would be awful frightened s'posing we did find +a pixie--or a gnome, in the shadows; an' would you be so very awfully +frightened if a gnome--a great, big one, you know,--came jumping out +an'--ran off with you,--should you?" + +"No!" said Anthea, with another shiver, "No, dear,--I think I should +be--rather glad of it!" + +"Should you, Auntie? I'm--so awful glad you wouldn't be frightened. A +course, I don't s'pose there are gnomes--I mean great, big +ones,--really, you know,--but there might be, on a magnif'cent night, +like this. If you shiver again Auntie you'll have to take my coat!" + +"I thought I heard a horse galloping--hush!" + +They had reached the stile, by now, the stile with the crooked, lurking +nail, and she leaned there, a while, to listen. "I'm sure I heard +something,--away there--on the road!" + +"I don't!" said Small Porges, stoutly,--"so take my hand, please, an' +let me 'sist you over the stile." + +So they crossed the stile, and, presently, came to the brook that was +the most impertinent brook in the world. And here, upon the little +rustic bridge, they stopped to look down at the sparkle of the water, +and to listen to its merry voice. + +Yes, indeed to-night it was as impertinent as ever, laughing, and +chuckling to itself among the hollows, and whispering scandalously in +the shadows. It seemed to Anthea that it was laughing at her,--mocking, +and taunting her with--the future. And now, amid the laughter, were +sobs, and tearful murmurs, and now, again, it seemed to be the prophetic +voice of old Nannie: + +"'By force ye shall be wooed and by force ye shall be wed, and there is +no man strong enough to do it, but him as bears the Tiger Mark +upon him!'" + +The "Tiger Mark!" Alas! how very far from the truth were poor, old +Nannie's dreams, after all, the dreams which Anthea had very nearly +believed in--once or twice. How foolish it had all been! And yet +even now-- + +Anthea had been leaning over the gurgling waters while all this passed +through her mind, but now,--she started at the sound of a heavy +foot-fall on the planking of the bridge, behind her, and--in that same +instant, she was encircled by a powerful arm, caught up in a strong +embrace,--swung from her feet, and borne away through the shadows of the +little copse. + +It was very dark in the wood, but she knew, instinctively, whose arms +these were that held her so close, and carried her so easily--away +through the shadows of the wood,--away from the haunting, hopeless dread +of the future from which there had seemed no chance, or hope of escape. + +And, knowing all this, she made no struggle, and uttered no word. And +now the trees thinned out, and, from under her lashes she saw the face +above her; the thick, black brows drawn together,--the close set of the +lips,--the grim prominence of the strong, square chin. + +And now, they were in the road; and now he had lifted her into an +automobile, had sprung in beside her, and--they were off, gliding swift, +and ever swifter, under the shadows of the trees. + +And still neither spoke, nor looked at each other; only she leaned away +from him, against the cushions, while he kept his frowning eyes fixed +upon the road a-head; and ever the great car flew onward faster, and +faster; yet not so fast as the beating of her heart, wherein shame, and +anger, and fear, and--another feeling strove and fought for mastery. + +But at last, finding him so silent, and impassive, she must needs steal +a look at him, beneath her lashes. + +He wore no hat, and as she looked upon him,--with his yellow hair, his +length of limb, and his massive shoulders, he might have been some +fierce Viking, and she, his captive, taken by strength of arm--borne +away by force.--By force! + +And, hereupon, as the car hummed over the smooth road, it seemed to find +a voice,--a subtle, mocking voice, very like the voice of the +brook,--that murmured to her over and over again: + +"By force ye shall be wooed, and by force ye shall be wed." + +The very trees whispered it as they passed, and her heart throbbed in +time to it: + +"By force ye shall be wooed, and by force ye shall be wed!" So, she +leaned as far from him as she might, watching him with frightened eyes +while he frowned ever upon the road in front, and the car rocked, and +swayed with their going, as they whirled onward through moonlight and +through shadow, faster, and faster,--yet not so fast as the beating of +her heart wherein was fear, and shame, and anger, and--another feeling, +but greatest of all now, was fear. Could this be the placid, soft-spoken +gentleman she had known,--this man, with the implacable eyes, and the +brutal jaw, who neither spoke to, nor looked at her, but frowned always +at the road in front. + +And so, the fear grew and grew within her,--fear of the man whom she +knew,--and knew not at all. She clasped her hands nervously together, +watching him with dilating eyes as the car slowed down,--for the road +made a sudden turn, hereabouts. + +And still he neither looked at, nor spoke to her; and therefore, because +she could bear the silence no longer, she spoke--in a voice that sounded +strangely faint, and far-away, and that shook and trembled in spite +of her. + +"Where are you--taking me?" + +"To be married!" he answered, never looking at her. + +"You--wouldn't--dare!" + +"Wait and see!" he nodded. + +"Oh!--but what do--you mean?" The fear in her voice was more manifest +than ever. + +"I mean that you are mine,--you always were, you always must and shall +be. So, I'm going to marry you--in about half-an-hour, by +special license." + +Still he did not even glance towards her, and she looked away over the +country side all lonely and desolate under the moon. + +"I want you, you see," he went on, "I want you more than I ever wanted +anything in this world. I need you, because without you my life will be +utterly purposeless, and empty. So I have taken you--because you are +mine, I know it,--Ah yes! and, deep down in your woman's heart, you know +it too. And so, I am going to marry you,--yes I am, unless--" and here, +he brought the car to a standstill, and turning, looked at her for the +first time. + +And now, before the look in his eyes, her own wavered, and fell, lest he +should read within them that which she would fain hide from him,--and +which she knew they must reveal,--that which was neither shame, nor +anger, nor fear, but the other feeling for which she dared find no name. +And thus, for a long moment, there was silence. + +At last she spoke, though with her eyes still hidden: + +"Unless!" she repeated breathlessly. + +"Anthea,--look at me!" + +But Anthea only drooped her head the lower; wherefore, he leaned +forward, and--even as Small Porges had done,--set his hand beneath the +dimple in her chin, and lifted the proud, un-willing face: + +"Anthea,--look at me!" + +And now, what could Anthea do but obey? + +"Unless," said he, as her glance, at last, met his, "unless you can tell +me--now, as your eyes look into mine,--that you love Cassilis. Tell me +that, and I will take you back, this very instant; and never trouble you +again. But, unless you do tell me that, why then--your Pride shall not +blast two lives, if I can help it. Now speak!" + +But Anthea was silent, also, she would have turned aside from his +searching look, but that his arms were about her, strong, and +compelling. So, needs must she suffer him to look down into her very +heart, for it seemed to her that, in that moment, he had rent away every +stitch, and shred of Pride's enfolding mantle, and that he saw the +truth, at last. + +But, if he had, he gave no sign, only he turned and set the car humming +upon its way, once more. + +On they went through the midsummer night, up hill and down hill, by +cross-road and bye-lane, until, as they climbed a long ascent, they +beheld a tall figure standing upon the top of the hill, in the attitude +of one who waits; and who, spying them, immediately raised a very stiff +left arm, whereupon this figure was joined by another. Now as the car +drew nearer, Anthea, with a thrill of pleasure, recognized the Sergeant +standing very much as though he were on parade, and with honest-faced +Peterday beside him, who stumped joyfully forward, and,--with a bob of +his head, and a scrape of his wooden leg,--held out his hand to her. + +Like one in a dream she took the sailor's hand to step from the car, and +like one in a dream, she walked on between the soldier and the sailor, +who now reached out to her, each, a hand equally big and equally gentle, +to aid her up certain crumbling, and time-worn steps. On they went +together until they were come to a place of whispering echoes, where +lights burned, few, and dim. + +And here, still as one in a dream, she spoke those words which gave her +life, henceforth, into the keeping of him who stood beside her,--whose +strong hand trembled as he set upon her finger, that which is an emblem +of eternity. + +Like one in a dream, she took the pen, and signed her name, obediently, +where they directed. And yet,--could this really be herself,--this +silent, submissive creature? + +And now, they were out upon the moon-lit road again, seated in the car, +while Peterday, his hat in his hand, was speaking to her. And yet,--was +it to her? + +"Mrs. Belloo, mam," he was saying, "on this here monumentous occasion--" + +"Monumentous is the only word for it, Peterday!" nodded the Sergeant. + +"On this here monumentous occasion, Mrs. Belloo," the sailor proceeded, +"my shipmate, Dick, and me, mam,--respectfully beg the favour of +saluting the bride;--Mrs. Belloo, by your leave--here's health, and +happiness, mam!" And, hereupon, the old sailor kissed her, right +heartily. Which done, he made way for the Sergeant who, after a moment's +hesitation, followed suit. + +"A fair wind, and prosperous!" cried Peterday, flourishing his hat. + +"And God--bless you--both!" said the Sergeant as the car shot away. + +So, it was done!--the irrevocable step was taken! Her life and future +had passed for ever into the keeping of him who sat so silent beside +her, who neither spoke, nor looked at her, but frowned ever at the road +before him. + +On sped the car, faster, and faster,--yet not so fast as the beating of +her heart wherein there was yet something of fear, and shame,--but +greatest of all was that other emotion, and the name of it was--Joy. + +Now, presently, the car slowed down, and he spoke to her, though without +turning his head. And yet, something in his voice thrilled through her +strangely. + +"Look Anthea,--the moon is at the full, to-night." + +"Yes!" she answered. + +"And Happiness shall come riding astride the full moon!" he quoted. "Old +Nannie is rather a wonderful old witch, after all, isn't she?" + +"Yes." + +"And then there is--our nephew,--my dear, little Porges! But for him, +Happiness would have been a stranger to me all my days, Anthea. He +dreamed that the Money Moon spoke to him, and--but he shall tell you of +that, for himself." + +But Anthea noticed that he spoke without once looking at her; indeed it +seemed that he avoided glancing towards her, of set design, and purpose; +and his deep voice quivered, now and then, in a way she had never heard +before. Therefore, her heart throbbed the faster, and she kept her gaze +bent downward, and thus, chancing to see the shimmer of that which was +upon her finger, she blushed, and hid it in a fold of her gown. + +"Anthea." + +"Yes?" + +"You have no regrets,--have you?" + +"No," she whispered. + +"We shall soon be--home, now!" + +"Yes." + +"And are you--mine--for ever, and always? Anthea, you--aren't--afraid of +me any more, are you?" + +"No." + +"Nor ever will be?" + +"Nor--ever will be." + +Now as the car swept round a bend, behold yet two other figures standing +beside the way. + +"Yo ho, Captain!" cried a voice, "Oh--please heave to, Uncle Porges!" + +And, forth to meet them, came Small Porges, running. Yet remembering +Miss Priscilla, tapping along behind him, he must needs turn back,--to +give her his hand like the kindly, small gentleman that he was. + +And now--Miss Priscilla had Anthea in her arms, and they were kissing +each other, and murmuring over each other, as loving women will, while +Small Porges stared at the car, and all things pertaining thereto, more +especially, the glaring head-lights, with great wondering eyes. + +At length, having seen Anthea, and Miss Priscilla safely stowed, he +clambered up beside Bellew, and gave him the word to proceed. What pen +could describe his ecstatic delight as he sat there, with one hand +hooked into the pocket of Uncle Porges' coat, and with the cool night +wind whistling through his curls. So great was it, indeed, that Bellew +was constrained to turn aside, and make a wide detour, purely for the +sake of the radiant joy in Small Porges' eager face. + +When, at last, they came within sight of Dapplemere, and the great +machine crept up the rutted, grassy lane, Small Porges sighed, +and spoke: + +"Auntie Anthea," said he, "are you sure that you are married--nice +an'--tight, you know?" + +"Yes, dear," she answered, "why--yes, Georgy." + +"But you don't look a bit diff'rent, you know,--either of you. Are you +quite--sure? 'cause I shouldn't like you to disappoint me,--after all." + +"Never fear, my Porges," said Bellew, "I made quite sure of it while I +had the chance,--look!" As he spoke, he took Anthea's left hand, +drawing it out into the moonlight, so that Small Porges could see the +shining ring upon her finger. + +"Oh!" said he, nodding his head, "then that makes it all right I s'pose. +An' you aren't angry with me 'cause I let a great, big gnome come an' +carry you off, are you, Auntie Anthea?" + +"No, dear." + +"Why then, everything's quite--magnif'cent, isn't it? An' now we're +going to live happy ever after, all of us, an' Uncle Porges is going to +take us to sail the oceans in his ship,--he's got a ship that all +belongs to his very own self, you know, Auntie Anthea,--so all will be +revelry an' joy--just like the fairy tale, after all." + +And so, at last, they came to the door of the ancient House of +Dapplemere. Whereupon, very suddenly, Adam appeared, bare-armed from the +stables, who, looking from Bellew's radiant face to Miss Anthea's shy +eyes, threw back his head, vented his great laugh, and was immediately +solemn again. + +"Miss Anthea," said he, wringing and twisting at his hat, "or--I think I +should say,--Mrs. Belloo mam,--there ain't no word for it! least-ways +not as I know on, nohow. No words be strong enough to tell the +J-O-Y--j'y, mam, as fills us--one an' all." Here, he waved his hand to +where stood the comely Prudence with the two rosy-cheeked maids peeping +over her buxom shoulders. + +"Only," pursued Adam, "I be glad--ah! mortal glad, I be,--as 'tis you, +Mr. Belloo sir. There ain't a man in all the world,--or--as you might +say,--uni-verse, as is so proper as you to be the husband to our Miss +Anthea--as was,--not nohow, Mr. Belloo sir. I wish you j'y, a j'y as +shall grow wi' the years, an' abide wi' you always,--both on ye." + +"That is a very excellent thought Adam!" said Bellew, "and I think I +should like to shake hands on it." Which they did, forthwith. + +"An' now, Mrs. Belloo mam," Adam concluded, "wi' your kind permission, +I'll step into the kitchen, an' drink a glass o' Prue's ale--to your +'ealth, and 'appiness. If I stay here any longer I won't say but what I +shall burst out a-singing in your very face, mam, for I do be that +'appy-'earted,--Lord!" + +With which exclamation, Adam laughed again, and turning about, strode +away to the kitchen with Prudence and the rosy-cheeked maids, laughing +as he went. + +"Oh my dears!" said little Miss Priscilla, "I've hoped for this,--prayed +for it,--because I believe he is--worthy of you, Anthea, and because you +have both loved each other, from the very beginning; oh dear me; yes you +have! And so, my dears,--your happiness is my happiness and--Oh, +goodness me! here I stand talking sentimental nonsense while our Small +Porges is simply dropping asleep as he stands." + +"'Fraid I am a bit tired," Small Porges admitted, "but it's been a +magnif'cent night. An' I think, Uncle Porges, when we sail away in your +ship, I think, I'd like to sail round the Horn first 'cause they say +it's always blowing, you know, and I should love to hear it blow. An' +now--Good-night!" + +"Wait a minute, my Porges, just tell us what it was the Money Moon said +to you, last night, will you?" + +"Well," said Small Porges, shaking his head, and smiling, a slow, sly +smile, "I don't s'pose we'd better talk about it, Uncle Porges, 'cause, +you see, it was such a very great secret; an 'sides,--I'm awful sleepy, +you know!" So saying, he nodded slumberously, kissed Anthea sleepily, +and, giving Miss Priscilla his hand, went drowsily into the house. + +But, as for Bellew it seemed to him that this was the hour for which he +had lived all his life, and, though he spoke nothing of this thought, +yet Anthea knew it, instinctively,--as she knew why he had avoided +looking at her hitherto, and what had caused the tremor in his voice, +despite his iron self-control; and, therefore, now that they were alone, +she spoke hurriedly, and at random: + +"What--did he--Georgy mean by--your ship?" + +"Why, I promised to take him a cruise in the yacht--if you cared to +come, Anthea." + +"Yacht!" she repeated, "are you so dreadfully rich?" + +"I'm afraid we are," he nodded, "but, at least, it has the advantage of +being better than if we were--dreadfully poor, hasn't it?" + +Now, in the midst of the garden there was an old sun-dial worn by time, +and weather, and it chanced that they came, and leaned there, side by +side. And, looking down upon the dial, Bellew saw certain characters +graven thereon in the form of a poesy. + +"What does it say, here, Anthea?" he asked. But Anthea shook her head: + +"That, you must read for yourself!" she said, not looking at him. + +So, he took her hand in his, and, with her slender finger, spelled out +this motto. + +Time, and youthe do flee awaie, Love, Oh! Love then, whiles ye may. + +"Anthea!" said he, and again she heard the tremor in his voice, "you +have been my wife nearly three quarters of an hour, and all that time I +haven't dared to look at you, because if I had, I must have--kissed you, +and I meant to wait--until your own good time. But Anthea, you have +never yet told me that you--love me--Anthea?" + +She did not speak, or move, indeed, she was so very still that he needs +must bend down to see her face. Then, all at once, her lashes were +lifted, her eyes looked up into his--deep and dark with passionate +tenderness. + +"Aunt Priscilla--was quite--right," she said, speaking in her low, +thrilling voice, "I have loved you--from the--very beginning, I think!" +And, with a soft, murmurous sigh, she gave herself into his embrace. + +Now, far away across the meadow, Adam was plodding his homeward way, +and, as he trudged, he sang to himself in a harsh, but not unmusical +voice, and the words of his song were these: + + "When I am dead, diddle diddle, as well may hap + You'll bury me, diddle diddle, under the tap, + Under the tap, diddle diddle, I'll tell you why, + That I may drink, diddle diddle, when I am dry." + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Money Moon, by Jeffery Farnol + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONEY MOON *** + +***** This file should be named 10418-8.txt or 10418-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/4/1/10418/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ginny Brewer and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/10418-8.zip b/old/10418-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9c1c817 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10418-8.zip diff --git a/old/10418.txt b/old/10418.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0c04c52 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10418.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8628 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Money Moon, by Jeffery Farnol + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Money Moon + A Romance + +Author: Jeffery Farnol + +Release Date: December 8, 2003 [EBook #10418] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONEY MOON *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ginny Brewer and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + +THE MONEY MOON + + +A Romance + +By + +JEFFERY FARNOL + +Author of "The Broad Highway," etc. + +Frontispiece by A.I. KELLER + + +1911 + + + + +To "JENNIFER" + +The One and Only + +Whose unswerving FAITH was an Inspiration +Whose GENEROSITY is a bye-word; +This book is dedicated as a mark of GRATITUDE and AFFECTION + +Jeffery Farnol Feb. 10, 1910 + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + + I WHICH, BEING THE FIRST, IS, VERY PROPERLY, THE SHORTEST CHAPTER IN + THE BOOK + + II HOW GEORGE BELLEW SOUGHT COUNSEL OF HIS VALET + + III WHICH CONCERNS ITSELF WITH A HAYCART, AND A BELLIGERENT WAGGONER + + IV HOW SMALL PORGES IN LOOKING FOR A FORTUNE FOR ANOTHER, FOUND AN + UNCLE FOR HIMSELF INSTEAD + + V HOW BELLEW CAME TO ARCADIA + + VI OF THE SAD CONDITION OF THE HAUNTING SPECTRE OF THE MIGHT HAVE BEEN + + VII WHICH CONCERNS ITSELF AMONG OTHER MATTERS, WITH "THE OLD ADAM" + + VIII WHICH TELLS OF MISS PRISCILLA, OF PEACHES, AND OF SERGEANT APPLEBY + LATE OF THE 19TH HUSSARS + + IX IN WHICH MAY BE FOUND SOME DESCRIPTION OF ARCADIA, AND GOOSEBERRIES + + X HOW BELLEW AND ADAM ENTERED INTO A SOLEMN LEAGUE AND COVENANT + + XI OF THE "MAN WITH THE TIGER MARK" + + XII IN WHICH MAY BE FOUND A FULL, TRUE, AND PARTICULAR ACCOUNT OF THE + SALE + + XIII HOW ANTHEA CAME HOME + + XIV WHICH, AMONG OTHER THINGS, HAS TO DO WITH SHRIMPS, MUFFINS, AND TIN + WHISTLES + + XV IN WHICH ADAM EXPLAINS + + XVI IN WHICH ADAM PROPOSES A GAME + + XVII HOW BELLEW BEGAN THE GAME + + XVIII HOW THE SERGEANT WENT UPON HIS GUARD + + XIX IN WHICH PORGES BIG, AND PORGES SMALL DISCUSS THE SUBJECT OF + MATRIMONY + + XX WHICH RELATES A MOST EXTRAORDINARY CONVERSATION + + XXI OF SHOES, AND SHIPS, AND SEALING WAX, AND THE THIRD FINGER OF THE + LEFT HAND + + XXII COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE + + XXIII HOW SMALL PORGES, IN HIS HOUR OF NEED, WAS DESERTED BY HIS UNCLE + + XXIV IN WHICH SHALL BE FOUND MENTION OF A CERTAIN BLACK BAG + + XXV THE CONSPIRATORS + + XXVI HOW THE MONEY MOON ROSE + + XXVII IN WHICH IS VERIFIED THE ADAGE OF THE CUP AND THE LIP + +XXVIII WHICH TELLS HOW BELLEW LEFT DAPPLEMERE IN THE DAWN + + XXIX OF THE MOON'S MESSAGE TO SMALL PORGES, AND HOW HE TOLD IT TO + BELLEW--IN A WHISPER + + XXX HOW ANTHEA GAVE HER PROMISE + + XXXI WHICH, BEING THE LAST, IS, VERY PROPERLY, THE LONGEST, IN THE BOOK + + + + +CHAPTER I + +_Which, being the first, is, very properly, the shortest chapter in the +book_ + +When Sylvia Marchmont went to Europe, George Bellew being, at the same +time, desirous of testing his newest acquired yacht, followed her, and +mutual friends in New York, Newport, and elsewhere, confidently awaited +news of their engagement. Great, therefore, was their surprise when they +learnt of her approaching marriage to the Duke of Ryde. + +Bellew, being young and rich, had many friends, very naturally, who, +while they sympathized with his loss, yet agreed among themselves, that, +despite Bellew's millions, Sylvia had done vastly well for herself, +seeing that a duke is always a duke,--especially in America. + +There were, also, divers ladies in New York, Newport, and elsewhere, and +celebrated for their palatial homes, their jewels, and their daughters, +who were anxious to know how Bellew would comport himself under his +disappointment. Some leaned to the idea that he would immediately blow +his brains out; others opined that he would promptly set off on another +of his exploring expeditions, and get himself torn to pieces by lions +and tigers, or devoured by alligators; while others again feared greatly +that, in a fit of pique, he would marry some "young person" unknown, and +therefore, of course, utterly unworthy. + +How far these worthy ladies were right, or wrong in their surmises, they +who take the trouble to turn the following pages, shall find out. + + + +CHAPTER II + +_How George Bellew sought counsel of his Valet_ + +The first intimation Bellew received of the futility of his hopes was +the following letter which he received one morning as he sat at +breakfast in his chambers in St. James Street, W. + +MY DEAR GEORGE--I am writing to tell you that I like you so much that I +am quite sure I could never marry you, it would be too ridiculous. +Liking, you see George, is not love, is it? Though, personally, I think +all that sort of thing went out of fashion with our great-grandmother's +hoops, and crinolines. So George, I have decided to marry the Duke of +Ryde. The ceremony will take place in three weeks time at St. George's, +Hanover Square, and everyone will be there, of course. If you care to +come too, so much the better. I won't say that I hope you will forget +me, because I don't; but I am sure you will find someone to console you +because you are such a dear, good fellow, and so ridiculously rich. + +So good-bye, and best wishes, + +Ever yours most sincerely, + +SYLVIA. + +Now under such circumstances, had Bellew sought oblivion and consolation +from bottles, or gone headlong to the devil in any of other numerous +ways that are more or less inviting, deluded people would have pitied +him, and shaken grave heads over him; for it seems that disappointment +(more especially in love) may condone many offences, and cover as many +sins as Charity. + +But Bellew, knowing nothing of that latter-day hysteria which wears the +disguise, and calls itself "Temperament," and being only a rather +ordinary young man, did nothing of the kind. Having lighted his pipe, +and read the letter through again, he rang instead for Baxter, +his valet. + +Baxter was small, and slight, and dapper as to person, clean-shaven, +alert of eye, and soft of movement,--in a word, Baxter was the cream of +gentlemen's gentlemen, and the very acme of what a valet should be, from +the very precise parting of his glossy hair, to the trim toes of his +glossy boots. Baxter as has been said, was his valet, and had been his +father's valet, before him, and as to age, might have been thirty, or +forty, or fifty, as he stood there beside the table, with one eye-brow +raised a trifle higher than the other, waiting for Bellew to speak. + +"Baxter." + +"Sir?" + +"Take a seat." + +"Thank you sir." And Baxter sat down, not too near his master, nor too +far off, but exactly at the right, and proper distance. + +"Baxter, I wish to consult with you." + +"As between Master and Servant, sir?" + +"As between man and man, Baxter." + +"Very good, Mr. George, sir!" + +"I should like to hear your opinion, Baxter, as to what is the proper, +and most accredited course to adopt when one has been--er--crossed +in love?" + +"Why sir," began Baxter, slightly wrinkling his smooth brow, "so far as +I can call to mind, the courses usually adopted by despairing lovers, +are, in number, four." + +"Name them, Baxter." + +"First, Mr. George, there is what I may term, the Course +Retaliatory,--which is Marriage--" + +"Marriage?" + +"With--another party, sir,--on the principle that there are as good fish +in the sea as ever came out, and--er--pebbles on beaches, sir; you +understand me, sir?" + +"Perfectly, go on." + +"Secondly, there is the Army, sir, I have known of a good many +enlistments on account of blighted affections, Mr. George, sir; indeed, +the Army is very popular." + +"Ah?" said Bellew, settling the tobacco in his pipe with the aid of the +salt-spoon, "Proceed, Baxter." + +"Thirdly, Mr. George, there are those who are content to--to merely +disappear." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"And lastly sir, though it is usually the first,--there is dissipation, +Mr. George. Drink, sir,--the consolation of bottles, and--" + +"Exactly!" nodded Bellew. "Now Baxter," he pursued, beginning to draw +diagrams on the table-cloth with the salt-spoon, "knowing me as you do, +what course should you advise me to adopt?" + +"You mean, Mr. George,--speaking as between man and man of course,--you +mean that you are in the unfortunate position of being--crossed in your +affections, sir?" + +"Also--heart-broken, Baxter." + +"Certainly, sir!" + +"Miss Marchmont marries the Duke of Hyde,--in three weeks, Baxter." + +"Indeed, sir!" + +"You were, I believe, aware of the fact that Miss Marchmont and I were +as good as engaged?" + +"I had--hem!--gathered as much, sir." + +"Then--confound it all, Baxter!--why aren't you surprised?" + +"I am quite--over-come, sir!" said Baxter, stooping to recover the +salt-spoon which had slipped to the floor. + +"Consequently," pursued Bellew, "I am--er--broken-hearted, as I told +you--" + +"Certainly, sir." + +"Crushed, despondent, and utterly hopeless, Baxter, and shall be, +henceforth, pursued by the--er--Haunting Spectre of the Might +Have Been." + +"Very natural, sir, indeed!" + +"I could have hoped, Baxter, that, having served me so long,--not to +mention my father, you would have shown just a--er shade more feeling in +the matter." + +"And if you were to ask me,--as between man and man sir,--why I don't +show more feeling, then, speaking as the old servant of your respected +father, Master George, sir,--I should beg most respectfully to say that +regarding the lady in question, her conduct is not in the least +surprising, Miss Marchmont being a beauty, and aware of the fact, Master +George. Referring to your heart, sir, I am ready to swear that it is not +even cracked. And now, sir,--what clothes do you propose to wear +this morning?" + +"And pray, why should you be so confident of regarding +the--er--condition of my heart?" + +"Because, sir,--speaking as your father's old servant, Master George, I +make bold to say that I don't believe that you have ever been in love, +or even know what love is, Master George, sir." + +Bellew picked up the salt-spoon, balanced it very carefully upon his +finger, and put it down again. + +"Nevertheless," said he, shaking his head, "I can see for myself but the +dreary perspective of a hopeless future, Baxter, blasted by the Haunting +Spectre of the Might Have Been;--I'll trouble you to push the cigarettes +a little nearer." + +"And now, sir," said Baxter, as he rose to strike, and apply the +necessary match, "what suit will you wear to-day?" + +"Something in tweeds." + +"Tweeds, sir! surely you forget your appointment with the Lady Cecily +Prynne, and her party? Lord Mountclair had me on the telephone, +last night--" + +"Also a good, heavy walking-stick, Baxter, and a knap-sack." + +"A knap-sack, sir?" + +"I shall set out on a walking tour--in an hour's time." + +"Certainly, sir,--where to, sir?" + +"I haven't the least idea, Baxter, but I'm going--in an hour. On the +whole, of the four courses you describe for one whose life is blighted, +whose heart,--I say whose heart, Baxter, is broken,--utterly smashed, +and--er--shivered beyond repair, I prefer to disappear--in an +hour, Baxter." + +"Shall you drive the touring car, sir, or the new racer?" + +"I shall walk, Baxter, alone,--in an hour." + + + +CHAPTER III + +_Which concerns itself with a hay-cart, and a belligerent Waggoner_ + +It was upon a certain August morning that George Bellew shook the dust +of London from his feet, and, leaving Chance, or Destiny to direct him, +followed a hap-hazard course, careless alike of how, or when, or where; +sighing as often, and as heavily as he considered his heart-broken +condition required,--which was very often, and very heavily,--yet +heeding, for all that, the glory of the sun, and the stir and bustle of +the streets about him. + +Thus it was that, being careless of his ultimate destination, Fortune +condescended to take him under her wing, (if she has one), and guided +his steps across the river, into the lovely land of Kent,--that county +of gentle hills, and broad, pleasant valleys, of winding streams and +shady woods, of rich meadows and smiling pastures, of grassy lanes and +fragrant hedgerows,--that most delightful land which has been called, +and very rightly, "The Garden of England." + +It was thus, as has been said, upon a fair August morning, that Bellew +set out on what he termed "a walking tour." The reservation is necessary +because Bellew's idea of a walking-tour is original, and quaint. He +began very well, for Bellew,--in the morning he walked very nearly five +miles, and, in the afternoon, before he was discovered, he accomplished +ten more on a hay-cart that happened to be going in his direction. + +He had swung himself up among the hay, unobserved by the somnolent +driver, and had ridden thus an hour or more in that delicious state +between waking, and sleeping, ere the waggoner discovered him, whereupon +ensued the following colloquy: + +THE WAGGONER. (_Indignantly_) Hallo there! what might you be a doing of +in my hay? + +BELLEW. (_Drowsily_) Enjoying myself immensely. + +THE WAGGONER. (_Growling_) Well, you get out o' that, and sharp about +it. + +BELLEW. (_Yawning_) Not on your life! No sir,--'not for Cadwallader and +all his goats!' + +THE WAGGONER. You jest get down out o' my hay,--now come! + +BELLEW. (_Sleepily_) Enough, good fellow,--go to!--thy voice offends +mine ear! + +THE WAGGONER. (_Threateningly_) Ear be blowed! If ye don't get down out +o' my hay,--I'll come an' throw ye out. + +BELLEW. (_Drowsily_) 'Twould be an act of wanton aggression that likes +me not. + +THE WAGGONER. (_Dubiously_) Where be ye goin'? + +BELLEW. Wherever you like to take me; Thy way shall be my way, +and--er--thy people--(Yawn) So drive on, my rustic Jehu, and Heaven's +blessings prosper thee! + +Saying which, Bellew closed his eyes again, sighed plaintively, and once +more composed himself to slumber. + +But to drive on, the Waggoner, very evidently, had no mind; instead, +flinging the reins upon the backs of his horses, he climbed down from +his seat, and spitting on his hands, clenched them into fists and shook +them up at the yawning Bellew, one after the other. + +"It be enough," said he, "to raise the 'Old Adam' inside o' me to 'ave a +tramper o' the roads a-snoring in my hay,--but I ain't a-going to be +called names, into the bargain. 'Rusty'--I may be, but I reckon I'm good +enough for the likes o' you,--so come on down!" and the Waggoner shook +his fists again. + +He was a very square man, was this Waggoner, square of head, square of +jaw, and square of body, with twinkling blue eyes, and a pleasant, +good-natured face; but, just now, the eyes gleamed, and the face was set +grimly, and, altogether, he looked a very ugly opponent. + +Therefore Bellew sighed again, stretched himself, and, very reluctantly, +climbed down out of the hay. No sooner was he fairly in the road, than +the Waggoner went for him with a rush, and a whirl of knotted fists. It +was very dusty in that particular spot so that it presently rose in a +cloud, in the midst of which, the battle raged, fast and furious. + +And, in a while, the Waggoner, rising out of the ditch, grinned to see +Bellew wiping blood from his face. + +"You be no--fool!" panted the Waggoner, mopping his face with the end of +his neckerchief. "Leastways--not wi' your fists." + +"Why, you are pretty good yourself, if it comes to that," returned +Bellew, mopping in his turn. Thus they stood a while stanching their +wounds, and gazing upon each other with a mutual, and growing respect. + +"Well?" enquired Bellew, when he had recovered his breath somewhat, +"shall we begin again, or do you think we have had enough? To be sure, I +begin to feel much better for your efforts, you see, exercise is what I +most need, just now, on account of the--er--Haunting Spectre of the +Might Have Been,--to offset its effect, you know; but it is +uncomfortably warm work here, in the sun, isn't it?" + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "it be." + +"Then suppose we--er--continue our journey?" said Bellew with his dreamy +gaze upon the tempting load of sweet-smelling hay. + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner again, beginning to roll down his sleeves, +"suppose we do; I aren't above giving a lift to a chap as can use 'is +fists,--not even if 'e is a vagrant, and a uncommon dusty one at +that;--so, if you're in the same mind about it, up you get,--but no more +furrin curses, mind!" With which admonition, the Waggoner nodded, +grinned, and climbed back to his seat, while Bellew swung himself up +into the hay once more. + +"Friend," said he, as the waggon creaked upon its way, "Do you smoke?" + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner. + +"Then here are three cigars which you didn't manage to smash just now." + +"Cigars! why it ain't often as I gets so far as a cigar, unless it be +Squire, or Parson,--cigars, eh!" Saying which, the Waggoner turned and +accepted the cigars which he proceeded to stow away in the cavernous +interior of his wide-eaved hat, handling them with elaborate care, +rather as if they were explosives of a highly dangerous kind. + +Meanwhile, George Bellew, American Citizen, and millionaire, lay upon +the broad of his back, staring up at the cloudless blue above, and +despite heart break, and a certain Haunting Shadow, felt singularly +content, which feeling he was at some pains with himself to account for. + +"It's the exercise," said he, speaking his thought aloud, as he +stretched luxuriously upon his soft, and fragrant couch, "after all, +there is nothing like a little exercise." + +"That's what they all say!" nodded the Waggoner. "But I notice as them +as says it, ain't over fond o' doing of it,--they mostly prefers to lie +on their backs, an' talk about it,--like yourself." + +"Hum!" said Bellew, "ha! 'Some are born to exercise, some achieve +exercise, and some, like myself, have exercise thrust upon them.' But, +anyway, it is a very excellent thing,--more especially if one is +affected with a--er--broken heart." + +"A w'ot?" enquired the Waggoner. + +"Blighted affections, then," sighed Bellew, settling himself more +comfortably in the hay. + +"You aren't 'inting at--love, are ye?" enquired the Waggoner cocking a +somewhat sheepish eye at him. + +"I was, but, just at present," and here Bellew lowered his voice, "it is +a--er--rather painful subject with me,--let us, therefore, talk of +something else." + +"You don't mean to say as your 'eart's broke, do ye?" enquired the +Waggoner in a tone of such vast surprise and disbelief, that Bellew +turned, and propped himself on an indignant elbow. + +"And why the deuce not?" he retorted, "my heart is no more impervious +than anyone else's,--confound it!" + +"But," said the Waggoner, "you ain't got the look of a 'eart-broke cove, +no more than Squire Cassilis,--which the same I heard telling Miss +Anthea as 'is 'eart were broke, no later than yesterday, at two o'clock +in the arternoon, as ever was." + +"Anthea!" repeated Bellew, blinking drowsily up at the sky again, "that +is a very quaint name, and very pretty." + +"Pretty,--ah,--an' so's Miss Anthea!--as a pict'er." + +"Oh, really?" yawned Bellew. + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "there ain't a man, in or out o' the parish, +from Squire down, as don't think the very same." + +But here, the Waggoner's voice tailed off into a meaningless drone that +became merged with the creaking of the wheels, the plodding hoof-strokes +of the horses, and Bellew fell asleep. + +He was awakened by feeling himself shaken lustily, and, sitting up, saw +that they had come to where a narrow lane branched off from the high +road, and wound away between great trees. + +"Yon's your way," nodded the Waggoner, pointing along the high road, +"Dapplemere village lies over yonder, 'bout a mile." + +"Thank you very much," said Bellew, "but I don't want the village." + +"No?" enquired the Waggoner, scratching his head. + +"Certainly not," answered Bellew. + +"Then--what do ye want?" + +"Oh well, I'll just go on lying here, and see what turns up,--so drive +on, like the good fellow you are." + +"Can't be done!" said the Waggoner. + +"Why not?" + +"Why, since you ax me--because I don't have to drive no farther. There +be the farm-house,--over the up-land yonder, you can't see it because o' +the trees, but there it be." + +So, Bellew sighed resignedly, and, perforce, climbed down into the road. + +"What do I owe you?" he enquired. + +"Owe me!" said the Waggoner, staring. + +"For the ride, and the--er--very necessary exercise you afforded me." + +"Lord!" cried the Waggoner with a sudden, great laugh, "you don't owe me +nothin' for that,--not nohow,--I owe you one for a knocking of me into +that ditch, back yonder, though, to be sure, I did give ye one or two +good 'uns, didn't I?" + +"You certainly did!" answered Bellew smiling, and he held out his hand. + +"Hey!--what be this?" cried the Waggoner, staring down at the bright +five-shilling piece in his palm. + +"Well, I rather think it's five shillings," said Bellew. "It's big +enough, heaven knows. English money is all O.K., I suppose, but it's +confoundedly confusing, and rather heavy to drag around if you happen to +have enough of it--" + +"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "but then nobody never _has_ enough of +it,--leastways, I never knowed nobody as had. Good-bye, sir! and +thankee, and--good luck!" saying which, the Waggoner chirrupped to his +horses, slipped the coin into his pocket, nodded, and the waggon creaked +and rumbled up the lane. + +Bellew strolled along the road, breathing an air fragrant with +honey-suckle from the hedges, and full of the song of birds; pausing, +now and then, to listen to the blythe carol of a sky-lark, or the rich; +sweet notes of a black-bird, and feeling that it was indeed, good to be +alive; so that, what with all this,--the springy turf beneath his feet, +and the blue expanse over-head, he began to whistle for very joy of it, +until, remembering the Haunting Shadow of the Might Have Been, he +checked himself, and sighed instead. Presently, turning from the road, +he climbed a stile, and followed a narrow path that led away across the +meadows, and, as he went, there met him a gentle wind laden with the +sweet, warm scent of ripening hops, and fruit. + +On he went, and on,--heedless of his direction until the sun grew low, +and he grew hungry; wherefore, looking about, he presently espied a nook +sheltered from the sun's level rays by a steep bank where flowers +bloomed, and ferns grew. Here he sat down, unslinging his knap-sack, and +here it was, also, that he first encountered Small Porges. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +_How Small Porges in looking for a fortune for another, found an Uncle +for Himself instead_ + +The meeting of George Bellew and Small Porges, (as he afterward came to +be called), was sudden, precipitate, and wholly unexpected; and it +befell on this wise: + +Bellew had opened his knap-sack, had fished thence cheese, clasp-knife, +and a crusty loaf of bread, and, having exerted himself so far, had +fallen a thinking or a dreaming, in his characteristic attitude, +i.e.:--on the flat of his back, when he was aware of a crash in the +hedge above, and then, of something that hurtled past him, all arms and +legs, that rolled over two or three times, and eventually brought up in +a sitting posture; and, lifting a lazy head, Bellew observed that it was +a boy. He was a very diminutive boy with a round head covered with +coppery curls, a boy who stared at Bellew out of a pair of very round, +blue eyes, while he tenderly cherished a knee, and an elbow. He had been +on the brink of tears for a moment, but meeting Bellew's quizzical gaze, +he manfully repressed the weakness, and, lifting the small, and somewhat +weather-beaten cap that found a precarious perch at the back of his +curly head, he gravely wished Bellew "Good afternoon!" + +"Well met, my Lord Chesterfield!" nodded Bellew, returning the salute, +"are you hurt?" + +"Just a bit--on the elbow; but my name's George." + +"Why--so is mine!" said Bellew. + +"Though they call me 'Georgy-Porgy.'" + +"Of course they do," nodded Bellew, "they used to call me the same, once +upon a time,-- + + Georgy Porgy, pudding and pie + Kissed the girls, and made them cry, + +though I never did anything of the kind,--one doesn't do that sort of +thing when one is young,--and wise, that comes later, and brings its own +care, and--er--heart-break." Here Bellew sighed, and hacked a piece from +the loaf with the clasp-knife. "Are you hungry, Georgy Porgy?" he +enquired, glancing up at the boy who had risen, and was removing some of +the soil and dust from his small person with his cap. + +"Yes I am." + +"Then here is bread, and cheese, and bottled stout,--so fall to, good +comrade." + +"Thank you, but I've got a piece of bread an' jam in my bundle,--" + +"Bundle?" + +"I dropped it as I came through the hedge, I'll get it," and as he +spoke, he turned, and, climbing up the bank, presently came back with a +very small bundle that dangled from the end of a very long stick, and +seating himself beside Bellew, he proceeded to open it. There, sure +enough, was the bread and jam in question, seemingly a little the worse +for wear and tear, for Bellew observed various articles adhering to it, +amongst other things, a battered penknife, and a top. These, however, +were readily removed, and Georgy Porgy fell to with excellent appetite. + +"And pray," enquired Bellew, after they had munched silently together, +some while, "pray where might you be going?" + +"I don't know yet," answered Georgy Porgy with a shake of his curls. + +"Good again!" exclaimed Bellew, "neither do I." + +"Though I've been thinking of Africa," continued his diminutive +companion, turning the remain of the bread and jam over and over +thoughtfully. + +"Africa!" repeated Bellew, staring, "that's quite a goodish step from +here." + +"Yes," sighed Georgy Porgy, "but, you see, there's gold there, oh, lots +of it! they dig it out of the ground with shovels, you know. Old Adam +told me all 'bout it; an' it's gold I'm looking for, you see, I'm trying +to find a fortune." + +"I--er--beg your pardon--?" said Bellew. + +"Money, you know," explained Georgy Porgy with a patient sigh, "pounds, +an' shillings, an' bank-notes--in a sack if I can get them." + +"And what does such a very small Georgy Porgy want so much money for?" + +"Well, it's for my Auntie, you know, so she won't have to sell her +house, an' go away from Dapplemere. She was telling me, last night, when +I was in bed,--she always comes to tuck me up, you know, an' she told me +she was 'fraid we'd have to sell Dapplemere an' go to live somewhere +else. So I asked why, an' she said ''cause she hadn't any money,' an' +'Oh Georgy!' she said, 'oh Georgy, if we could only find enough money to +pay off the--the--'" + +"Mortgage?" suggested Bellew, at a venture. + +"Yes,--that's it, but how did you know?" + +"Never mind how, go on with your tale, Georgy Porgy." + +"'If--we could only find enough money, or somebody would leave us a +fortune,' she said,--an' she was crying too, 'cause I felt a tear fall +on me, you know. So this morning I got up, awful' early, an' made myself +a bundle on a stick,--like Dick Whittington had when he left home, an' I +started off to find a fortune." + +"I see," nodded Bellew. + +"But I haven't found anything--yet," said Georgy Porgy, with a long +sigh, "I s'pose money takes a lot of looking for, doesn't it?" + +"Sometimes," Bellew answered. "And do you live alone with your Auntie +then, Georgy Porgy?" + +"Yes;--most boys live with their mothers, but that's where I'm +different, I don't need one 'cause I've got my Auntie Anthea." + +"Anthea!" repeated Bellew, thoughtfully. Hereupon they fell silent, +Bellew watching the smoke curl up from his pipe into the warm, still +air, and Georgy Porgy watching him with very thoughtful eyes, and a +somewhat troubled brow, as if turning over some weighty matter in his +mind; at last, he spoke: + +"Please," said he, with a sudden diffidence, "where do you live?" + +"Live," repeated Bellew, smiling, "under my hat,--here, there, and +everywhere, which means--nowhere in particular." + +"But I--I mean--where is your home?" + +"My home," said Bellew, exhaling a great cloud of smoke, "my home lies +beyond the 'bounding billow." + +"That sounds an awful' long way off." + +"It _is_ an awful' long way off." + +"An' where do you sleep while--while you're here?" + +"Anywhere they'll let me. To-night I shall sleep at some inn, I suppose, +if I can find one, if not,--under a hedge, or hay-rick." + +"Oh!--haven't you got any home of your own, then,--here?" + +"No." + +"And--you're not going home just yet,--I mean across the 'bounding +billow?'" + +"Not yet." + +"Then--please--" the small boy's voice was suddenly tremulous and eager, +and he laid a little, grimy hand upon Bellew's sleeve, "please--if it +isn't too much trouble--would you mind coming with me--to--to help me to +find the fortune?--you see, you are so very big, an'--Oh!--will +you please?" + +George Bellew sat up suddenly, and smiled; Bellew's smile was, at all +times, wonderfully pleasant to see, at least, the boy thought so. + +"Georgy Porgy," said he, "you can just bet your small life, I will,--and +there's my hand on it, old chap." Bellew's lips were solemn now, but all +the best of his smile seemed, somehow, to have got into his gray eyes. +So the big hand clasped the small one, and as they looked at each other, +there sprang up a certain understanding that was to be an enduring bond +between them. + +"I think," said Bellew, as he lay, and puffed at his pipe again, "I +think I'll call you Porges, it's shorter, easier, and I think, +altogether apt; I'll be Big Porges, and you shall be Small Porges,--what +do you say?" + +"Yes, it's lots better than Georgy Porgy," nodded the boy. And so Small +Porges he became, thenceforth. "But," said he, after a thoughtful pause, +"I think, if you don't mind, I'd rather call you----Uncle Porges. You +see, Dick Bennet--the black-smith's boy, has three uncles an' I've only +got a single aunt,--so, if you don't mind--" + +"Uncle Porges it shall be, now and for ever, Amen!" murmured Bellew. + +"An' when d'you s'pose we'd better start?" enquired Small Porges, +beginning to re-tie his bundle. + +"Start where, nephew?" + +"To find the fortune." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"If we could manage to find some,--even if it was only a very little, it +would cheer her up so." + +"To be sure it would," said Bellew, and, sitting up, he pitched loaf, +cheese, and clasp-knife back into the knap-sack, fastened it, slung it +upon his shoulders, and rising, took up his stick. + +"Come on, my Porges," said he, "and, whatever you do--keep your 'weather +eye' on your uncle." + +"Where do you s'pose we'd better look first?" enquired Small Porges, +eagerly. + +"Why, first, I think we'd better find your Auntie Anthea." + +"But,--" began Porges, his face falling. + +"But me no buts, my Porges," smiled Bellew, laying his hand upon his +new-found nephew's shoulder, "but me no buts, boy, and, as I said +before,--just keep your eye on your uncle." + + + +CHAPTER V + +_How Bellew came to Arcadia_ + +So, they set out together, Big Porges and Small Porges, walking side by +side over sun-kissed field and meadow, slowly and thoughtfully, to be +sure, for Bellew disliked hurry; often pausing to listen to the music of +running waters, or to stare away across the purple valley, for the sun +was getting low. And, ever as they went, they talked to one another +whole-heartedly as good friends should. + +And, from the boy's eager lips, Bellew heard much of "Auntie Anthea," +and learned, little by little, something of the brave fight she had +made, lonely and unaided, and burdened with ancient debt, to make the +farm of Dapplemere pay. Likewise Small Porges spoke learnedly of the +condition of the markets, and of the distressing fall in prices in +regard to hay, and wheat. + +"Old Adam,--he's our man, you know, he says that farming isn't what it +was in his young days, 'specially if you happen to be a woman, like my +Auntie Anthea, an' he told me yesterday that if he were Auntie he'd give +up trying, an' take Mr. Cassilis at his word." + +"Cassilis, ah!--And who is Mr. Cassilis?" + +"He lives at 'Brampton Court'--a great, big house 'bout a mile from +Dapplemere; an' he's always asking my Auntie to marry him, but 'course +she won't you know." + +"Why not?" + +"Well, I think it's 'cause he's got such big, white teeth when he +smiles,--an' he's always smiling, you know; but Old Adam says that if +he'd been born a woman he'd marry a man all teeth, or no teeth at all, +if he had as much money as Mr. Cassilis." + +The sun was low in the West as, skirting a wood, they came out upon a +grassy lane that presently led them into the great, broad highway. + +Now, as they trudged along together, Small Porges with one hand clasped +in Bellew's, and the other supporting the bundle on his shoulder, there +appeared, galloping towards them a man on a fine black horse, at sight +of whom, Porges' clasp tightened, and he drew nearer to Bellew's side. + +When he was nearly abreast of them, the horse-man checked his career so +suddenly that his animal was thrown back on his haunches. + +"Why--Georgy!" he exclaimed. + +"Good evening, Mr. Cassilis!" said Small Porges, lifting his cap. + +Mr. Cassilis was tall, handsome, well built, and very particular as to +dress. Bellew noticed that his teeth were, indeed, very large and white, +beneath the small, carefully trained moustache; also his eyes seemed +just a trifle too close together, perhaps. + +"Why--what in the world have you been up to, boy?" he enquired, +regarding Bellew with no very friendly eye. "Your Aunt is worrying +herself ill on your account,--what have you been doing with yourself +all day?" + +Again Bellew felt the small fingers tighten round his, and the small +figure shrink a little closer to him, as Small Porges answered, + +"I've been with Uncle Porges, Mr. Cassilis." + +"With whom?" demanded Mr. Cassilis, more sharply. + +"With his Uncle Porges, sir," Bellew rejoined, "a trustworthy person, +and very much at your service." + +Mr. Cassilis stared, his hand began to stroke and caress his small, +black moustache, and he viewed Bellew from his dusty boots up to the +crown of his dusty hat, and down again, with supercilious eyes. + +"Uncle?" he repeated incredulously. + +"Porges," nodded Bellew. + +"I wasn't aware," began Mr. Cassilis, "that--er--George was so very +fortunate--" + +"Baptismal name--George," continued Bellew, "lately of New York, +Newport, and--er--other places in America, U.S.A., at present of +Nowhere-in-Particular." + +"Ah!" said Mr. Cassilis, his eyes seeming to grow a trifle nearer +together, "an American Uncle? Still, I was not aware of even that +relationship." + +"It is a singularly pleasing thought," smiled Bellew, "to know that we +may learn something every day,--that one never knows what the day may +bring forth; to-morrow, for instance, you also may find yourself a +nephew--somewhere or other, though, personally, I--er doubt it, yes, I +greatly doubt it; still, one never knows, you know, and while there's +life, there's hope. A very good afternoon to you, sir. Come, nephew +mine, the evening falls apace, and I grow aweary,--let us +on--Excelsior!" + +Mr. Cassilis's cheek grew suddenly red, he twirled his moustache +angrily, and seemed about to speak, then he smiled instead, and turning +his horse, spurred him savagely, and galloped back down the road in a +cloud of dust. + +"Did you see his teeth, Uncle Porges?" + +"I did." + +"He only smiles like that when he's awful' angry," said Small Porges +shaking his head as the galloping hoof-strokes died away in the +distance, "An' what do you s'pose he went back for?" + +"Well, Porges, it's in my mind that he has gone back to warn our Auntie +Anthea of our coming." + +Small Porges sighed, and his feet dragged in the dust. + +"Tired, my Porges?" + +"Just a bit, you know,--but it isn't that. I was thinking that the day +has almost gone, an' I haven't found a bit of the fortune yet." + +"Why there's always to-morrow to live for, my Porges." + +"Yes, 'course--there's always to-morrow; an' then,--I did find you, you +know, Uncle Porges." + +"To be sure you did, and an uncle is better than nothing at all, isn't +he,--even if he is rather dusty and disreputable of exterior. One +doesn't find an uncle every day of one's life, my Porges, no sir!" + +"An' you are so nice an' big, you know!" said Porges, viewing Bellew +with a bright, approving eye. + +"Long, would be a better word, perhaps," suggested Bellew, smiling down +at him. + +"An' wide, too!" nodded Small Porges. And, from these two facts he +seemed to derive a deal of solid comfort, and satisfaction for he strode +on manfully once more. + +Leaving the high-road, he guided Bellew by divers winding paths, through +corn-fields, and over stiles, until, at length, they were come to an +orchard. Such an orchard as surely may only be found in Kent,--where +great apple-trees, gnarled, and knotted, shot out huge branches that +seemed to twist, and writhe; where were stately pear trees; where +peaches, and apricots, ripened against time-worn walls whose red bricks +still glowed rosily for all their years; where the air was sweet with +the scent of fruit, and fragrant with thyme, and sage, and marjoram; and +where the black-birds, bold marauders that they are, piped gloriously +all day long. In the midst of this orchard they stopped, and Small +Porges rested one hand against the rugged bole of a great, old +apple tree. + +"This," said he, "is my very own tree, because he's so very big, an' so +very, very old,--Adam says he's the oldest tree in the orchard. I call +him 'King Arthur' 'cause he is so big, an' strong,--just like a king +should be, you know,--an' all the other trees are his Knights of the +Round Table." + +But Bellew was not looking at "King Arthur" just then; his eyes were +turned to where one came towards them through the green,--one surely as +tall, and gracious, as proud and beautiful, as Enid, or Guinevere, or +any of those lovely ladies, for all her simple gown of blue, and the +sunbonnet that shaded the beauty of her face. Yes, as he gazed, Bellew +was sure and certain that she who, all unconscious of their presence, +came slowly towards them with the red glow of the sunset about her, was +handsomer, lovelier, statelier, and altogether more desirable than all +the beautiful ladies of King Arthur's court,--or any other court so-ever. + +But now Small Porges finding him so silent, and seeing where he looked, +must needs behold her too, and gave a sudden, glad cry, and ran out from +behind the great bulk of "King Arthur," and she, hearing his voice, +turned and ran to meet him, and sank upon her knees before him, and +clasped him against her heart, and rejoiced, and wept, and scolded him, +all in a breath. Wherefore Bellew, unobserved, as yet in "King Arthur's" +shadow, watching the proud head with its wayward curls, (for the +sunbonnet had been tossed back upon her shoulders), watching the quick, +passionate caress of those slender, brown hands, and listening to the +thrilling tenderness of that low, soft voice, felt, all at once, +strangely lonely, and friendless, and out of place, very rough and +awkward, and very much aware of his dusty person,--felt, indeed, as any +other ordinary human might, who had tumbled unexpectedly into Arcadia; +therefore he turned, thinking to steal quietly away. + +"You see, Auntie, I went out to try an' find a fortune for you," Small +Porges was explaining, "an' I looked, an' looked, but I didn't find +a bit--" + +"My dear, dear, brave Georgy!" said Anthea, and would have kissed him +again, but he put her off: + +"Wait a minute, please Auntie," he said excitedly, "'cause I did +find--something,--just as I was growing very tired an' disappointed, I +found Uncle Porges--under a hedge, you know." + +"Uncle Porges!" said Anthea, starting, "Oh! that must be the man Mr. +Cassilis mentioned--" + +"So I brought him with me," pursued Small Porges, "an' there he is!" and +he pointed triumphantly towards "King Arthur." + +Glancing thither, Anthea beheld a tall, dusty figure moving off among +the trees. + +"Oh,--wait, please!" she called, rising to her feet, and, with Small +Porges' hand in hers, approached Bellew who had stopped with his dusty +back to them. + +"I--I want to thank you for--taking care of my nephew. If you will come +up to the house cook shall give you a good meal, and, if you are in need +of work, I--I--" her voice faltered uncertainly, and she stopped. + +"Thank you!" said Bellew, turning and lifting his hat. + +"Oh!--I beg your pardon!" said Anthea. + +Now as their eyes met, it seemed to Bellew as though he had lived all +his life in expectation of this moment, and he knew that all his life he +should never forget this moment. But now, even while he looked at her, +he saw her cheeks flush painfully, and her dark eyes grow troubled. + +"I beg your pardon!" said she again, "I--I thought--Mr. Cassilis gave me +to understand that you were--" + +"A very dusty, hungry-looking fellow, perhaps," smiled Bellew, "and he +was quite right, you know; the dust you can see for yourself, but the +hunger you must take my word for. As for the work, I assure you exercise +is precisely what I am looking for." + +"But--" said Anthea, and stopped, and tapped the grass nervously with +her foot, and twisted one of her bonnet-strings, and meeting Bellew's +steady gaze, flushed again, "but you--you are--" + +"My Uncle Porges," her nephew chimed in, "an' I brought him home with me +'cause he's going to help me to find a fortune, an' he hasn't got any +place to go to 'cause his home's far, far beyond the 'bounding +billow,'--so you will let him stay, won't you, Auntie Anthea?" + +"Why--Georgy--" she began, but seeing her distressed look, Bellew came +to her rescue. + +"Pray do, Miss Anthea," said he in his quiet, easy manner. "My name is +Bellew," he went on to explain, "I am an American, without family or +friends, here, there or anywhere, and with nothing in the world to do +but follow the path of the winds. Indeed, I am rather a solitary fellow, +at least--I was, until I met my nephew Porges here. Since then, I've +been wondering if there would be--er--room for such as I, at +Dapplemere?" + +"Oh, there would be plenty of room," said Anthea, hesitating, and +wrinkling her white brow, for a lodger was something entirely new in her +experience. + +"As to my character," pursued Bellew, "though something of a vagabond, I +am not a rogue,--at least, I hope not, and I could pay--er--four or five +pounds a week--" + +"Oh!" exclaimed Anthea, with a little gasp. + +"If that would be sufficient--" + +"It is--a great deal too much!" said Anthea who would have scarcely +dared to ask three. + +"Pardon me!--but I think not," said Bellew, shaking his head, "you see, +I am--er--rather extravagant in my eating,--eggs, you know, lots of 'em, +and ham, and beef, and--er--(a duck quacked loudly from the vicinity of +a neighbouring pond),--certainly,--an occasional duck! Indeed, five +pounds a week would scarcely--" + +"Three would be ample!" said Anthea with a little nod of finality. + +"Very well," said Bellew, "we'll make it four, and have done with it." + +Anthea Devine, being absolute mistress of Dapplemere, was in the habit +of exerting her authority, and having her own way in most things; +therefore, she glanced up, in some surprise, at this tall, dusty, rather +lazy looking personage; and she noticed, even as had Small Porges, that +he was indeed very big and wide; she noticed also that, despite the easy +courtesy of his manner, and the quizzical light of his gray eyes, his +chin was very square, and that, despite his gentle voice, he had the air +of one who meant exactly what he said. Nevertheless she was much +inclined to take issue with him upon the matter; plainly observing +which, Bellew smiled, and shook his head. + +"Pray be reasonable," he said in his gentle voice, "if you send me away +to some horrible inn or other, it will cost me--being an American, +--more than that every week, in tips and things,--so let's shake hands +on it, and call it settled," and he held out his hand to her. + +Four pounds a week! It would be a veritable God-send just at present, +while she was so hard put to it to make both ends meet. Four pounds a +week! So Anthea stood, lost in frowning thought until meeting his frank +smile, she laughed. + +"You are dreadfully persistent!" she said, "and I know it is too +much,--but--we'll try to make you as comfortable as we can," and she +laid her hand in his. + +And thus it was that George Bellew came to Dapplemere in the glory of +the after-glow of an August afternoon, breathing the magic air of +Arcadia which is, and always has been, of that rare quality warranted to +go to the head, sooner, or later. + +And thus it was that Small Porges with his bundle on his shoulder, +viewed this tall, dusty Uncle with the eye of possession which is +oft-times an eye of rapture. + +And Anthea? She was busy calculating to a scrupulous nicety the very +vexed question as to exactly how far four pounds per week might be made +to go to the best possible advantage of all concerned. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +_Of the sad condition of the Haunting Spectre of the Might Have Been_ + +Dapplemere Farm House, or "The Manor," as it was still called by many, +had been built when Henry the Eighth was King, as the carved inscription +above the door testified. + +The House of Dapplemere was a place of many gables, and latticed +windows, and with tall, slender chimneys shaped, and wrought into things +of beauty and delight. It possessed a great, old hall; there were +spacious chambers, and broad stairways; there were panelled corridors; +sudden flights of steps that led up, or down again, for no apparent +reason; there were broad, and generous hearths, and deep window-seats; +and everywhere, within, and without, there lurked an indefinable, +old-world charm that was the heritage of years. + +Storms had buffeted, and tempests had beaten upon it, but all in vain, +for, save that the bricks glowed a deeper red where they peeped out +beneath the clinging ivy, the old house stood as it had upon that far +day when it was fashioned,--in the Year of Our Lord One Thousand Five +Hundred and Twenty-four. + +In England many such houses are yet to be found, monuments of the "Bad +Old Times"--memorials of the "Dark Ages"--when lath and stucco existed +not, and the "Jerry-builder" had no being. But where, among them all, +might be found such another parlour as this at Dapplemere, with its low, +raftered ceiling, its great, carved mantel, its panelled walls whence +old portraits looked down at one like dream faces, from dim, and +nebulous backgrounds. And where might be found two such bright-eyed, +rosy-cheeked, quick-footed, deft-handed Phyllises as the two buxom maids +who flitted here and there, obedient to their mistress's word, or +gesture. And, lastly, where, in all this wide world, could there ever be +found just such another hostess as Miss Anthea, herself? Something of +all this was in Bellew's mind as he sat with Small Porges beside him, +watching Miss Anthea dispense tea,--brewed as it should be, in an +earthen tea-pot. + +"Milk and sugar, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Thank you!" + +"This is blackberry, an' this is raspberry an' red currant--but the +blackberry jam's the best, Uncle Porges!" + +"Thank you, nephew." + +"Now aren't you awful' glad I found you--under that hedge, Uncle +Porges?" + +"Nephew,--I am!" + +"Nephew?" repeated Anthea, glancing at him with raised brows. + +"Oh yes!" nodded Bellew, "we adopted each other--at about four o'clock, +this afternoon." + +"Under a hedge, you know!" added Small Porges. + +"Wasn't it a very sudden, and altogether--unheard of proceeding?" Anthea +enquired. + +"Well, it might have been if it had happened anywhere but in Arcadia." + +"What do you mean by Arcadia, Uncle Porges?" + +"A place I've been looking for--nearly all my life, nephew. I'll trouble +you for the blackberry jam, my Porges." + +"Yes, try the blackberry,--Aunt Priscilla made it her very own self." + +"You know it's perfectly--ridiculous!" said Anthea, frowning and +laughing, both at the same time. + +"What is, Miss Anthea?" + +"Why that you should be sitting here calling Georgy your nephew, and +that I should be pouring out tea for you, quite as a matter of course." + +"It seems to me the most delightfully natural thing in the world," said +Bellew, in his slow, grave manner. + +"But--I've only known you--half an hour--!" + +"But then, friendships ripen quickly--in Arcadia." + +"I wonder what Aunt Priscilla will have to say about it!" + +"Aunt Priscilla?" + +"She is our housekeeper,--the dearest, busiest, gentlest little +housekeeper in all the world; but with--very sharp eyes, Mr. Bellew. She +will either like you very much,--or--not at all! there are no half +measures about Aunt Priscilla." + +"Now I wonder which it will be," said Bellew, helping himself to more +jam. + +"Oh, she'll like you, a course!" nodded Small Porges, "I know she'll +like you 'cause you're so different to Mr. Cassilis,--he's got black +hair, an' a mestache, you know, an' your hair's gold, like mine,--an' +your mestache--isn't there, is it? An' I know she doesn't like Mr. +Cassilis, an' I don't, either, 'cause--" + +"She will be back to-morrow," said Anthea, silencing Small Porges with a +gentle touch of her hand, "and we shall be glad, sha'n't we, Georgy? The +house is not the same place without her. You see, I am off in the fields +all day, as a rule; a farm,--even such a small one as Dapplemere, is a +great responsibility, and takes up all one's time--if it is to be +made to pay--" + +"An' sometimes it doesn't pay at all, you know!" added Small Porges, +"an' then Auntie Anthea worries, an' I worry too. Farming isn't what it +was in Adam's young days,--so that's why I must find a fortune--early +tomorrow morning, you know,--so my Auntie won't have to worry +any more--" + +Now when he had got thus far, Anthea leaned over, and, taking him by +surprise, kissed Small Porges suddenly. + +"It was very good, and brave of you, dear," said she in her soft, +thrilling voice, "to go out all alone into this big world to try and +find a fortune for me!" and here she would have kissed him again but +that he reminded her that they were not alone. + +"But, Georgy dear,--fortunes are very hard to find,--especially round +Dapplemere, I'm afraid!" said she, with a rueful little laugh. + +"Yes, that's why I was going to Africa, you know." + +"Africa!" she repeated, "Africa!" + +"Oh yes," nodded Bellew, "when I met him he was on his way there to +bring back gold for you--in a sack." + +"Only Uncle Porges said it was a goodish way off, you know, so I 'cided +to stay an' find the fortune nearer home." + +And thus they talked unaffectedly together until, tea being over, Anthea +volunteered to show Bellew over her small domain, and they went out, all +three, into an evening that breathed of roses, and honeysuckle. + +And, as they went, slow-footed through the deepening twilight, Small +Porges directed Bellew's attention to certain nooks and corners that +might be well calculated to conceal the fortune they were to find; while +Anthea pointed out to him the beauties of shady wood, of rolling meadow, +and winding stream. + +But there were other beauties that neither of them thought to call to +his attention, but which Bellew noted with observing eyes, none the +less:--such, for instance, as the way Anthea had of drooping her shadowy +lashes at sudden and unexpected moments; the wistful droop of her warm, +red lips, and the sweet, round column of her throat. These, and much +beside, Bellew noticed for himself as they walked on together through +this midsummer evening.... And so, betimes, Bellew got him to bed, and, +though the hour was ridiculously early, yet he fell into a profound +slumber, and dreamed of--nothing at all. But, far away upon the road, +forgotten, and out of mind,--with futile writhing and grimaces, the +Haunting Shadow of the Might Have Been jibbered in the shadows. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +_Which concerns itself among other matters, with "the Old Adam"_ + +Bellew awakened early next morning, which was an unusual thing for +Bellew to do under ordinary circumstances since he was one who held with +that poet who has written, somewhere or other, something to the +following effect: + +"God bless the man who first discovered sleep. But damn the man with +curses loud, and deep, who first invented--early rising." + +Nevertheless, Bellew, (as has been said), awoke early next morning, to +find the sun pouring in at his window, and making a glory all about him. +But it was not this that had roused him, he thought as he lay blinking +drowsily,--nor the black-bird piping so wonderfully in the apple-tree +outside,--a very inquisitive apple-tree that had writhed, and contorted +itself most un-naturally in its efforts to peep in at the +window;--therefore Bellew fell to wondering, sleepily enough, what it +could have been. Presently it came again, the sound,--a very peculiar +sound the like of which Bellew had never heard before, which, as he +listened, gradually evolved itself into a kind of monotonous chant, +intoned by a voice deep, and harsh, yet withal, not unmusical. Now the +words of the chant were these: + + "When I am dead, diddle, diddle, as well may hap, + Bury me deep, diddle, diddle, under the tap, + Under the tap, diddle, diddle, I'll tell you why, + That I may drink, diddle, diddle, when I am dry." + +Hereupon, Bellew rose, and crossing to the open casement leaned out into +the golden freshness of the morning. Looking about he presently espied +the singer,--one who carried two pails suspended from a yoke upon his +shoulders,--a very square man; that is to say, square of shoulder, +square of head, and square of jaw, being, in fact, none other than the +Waggoner with whom he had fought, and ridden on the previous afternoon; +seeing which, Bellew hailed him in cheery greeting. The man glanced up, +and, breaking off his song in the middle of a note, stood gazing at +Bellew, open-mouthed. + +"What,--be that you, sir?" he enquired, at last, and then,--"Lord! an' +what be you a doing of up theer?" + +"Why, sleeping, of course," answered Bellew. + +"W'ot--again!" exclaimed the Waggoner with a grin, "you do be for ever +a-sleepin' I do believe!" + +"Not when you're anywhere about!" laughed Bellew. + +"Was it me as woke ye then?" + +"Your singing did." + +"My singin'! Lord love ye, an' well it might! My singin' would wake the +dead,--leastways so Prudence says, an' she's generally right, +--leastways, if she ain't, she's a uncommon good cook, an' that goes a +long way wi' most of us. But I don't sing very often unless I be alone, +or easy in my mind an' 'appy-'earted,--which I ain't." + +"No?" enquired Bellew. + +"Not by no manner o' means, I ain't,--contrariwise my 'eart be sore an' +full o' gloom,--which ain't to be wondered at, nohow." + +"And yet you were singing." + +"Aye, for sure I were singin', but then who could help singin' on such a +mornin' as this be, an' wi' the black-bird a-piping away in the tree +here. Oh! I were singin', I don't go for to deny it, but it's sore +'earted I be, an' filled wi' gloom sir, notwithstanding." + +"You mean," said Bellew, becoming suddenly thoughtful, "that you are +haunted by the Carking Spectre of the--er Might Have Been?" + +"Lord bless you, no sir! This ain't no spectre, nor yet no +skellington,--which, arter all, is only old bones an' such,--no this +ain't nothin' of that sort, an' no more it ain't a thing as I can stand +'ere a maggin' about wi' a long day's work afore me, axing your pardon, +sir." Saying which, the Waggoner nodded suddenly and strode off with his +pails clanking cheerily. + +Very soon Bellew was shaved, and dressed, and going down stairs he let +himself out into the early sunshine, and strolled away towards the +farm-yard where cocks crew, cows lowed, ducks quacked, turkeys and geese +gobbled and hissed, and where the Waggoner moved to and fro among them +all, like a presiding genius. + +"I think," said Bellew, as he came up, "I think you must be the Adam I +have heard of." + +"That be my name, sir." + +"Then Adam, fill your pipe," and Bellew extended his pouch, whereupon +Adam thanked him, and fishing a small, short, black clay from his +pocket, proceeded to fill, and light it. + +"Yes sir," he nodded, inhaling the tobacco with much apparent enjoyment, +"Adam I were baptized some thirty odd year ago, but I generally calls +myself 'Old Adam,'" + +"But you're not old, Adam." + +"Why, it ain't on account o' my age, ye see sir,--it be all because o' +the Old Adam as is inside o' me. Lord love ye! I am nat'rally that full +o' the 'Old Adam' as never was. An' 'e's alway a up an' taking of me at +the shortest notice. Only t'other day he up an' took me because Job +Jagway ('e works for Squire Cassilis, you'll understand sir) because Job +Jagway sez as our wheat, (meanin' Miss Anthea's wheat, you'll understand +sir) was mouldy; well, the 'Old Adam' up an' took me to that extent, +sir, that they 'ad to carry Job Jagway home, arterwards. Which is all on +account o' the Old Adam,--me being the mildest chap you ever see, +nat'rally,--mild? ah! sucking doves wouldn't be nothin' to me for +mildness." + +"And what did the Squire have to say about your spoiling his man?" + +"Wrote to Miss Anthea, o' course, sir,--he's always writing to Miss +Anthea about summat or other,--sez as how he was minded to lock me up +for 'sault an' battery, but, out o' respect for her, would let me off, +wi' a warning." + +"Miss Anthea was worried, I suppose?" + +"Worried, sir! 'Oh Adam!' sez she, 'Oh Adam! 'aven't I got enough to +bear but you must make it 'arder for me?' An' I see the tears in her +eyes while she said it. Me make it 'arder for her! Jest as if I wouldn't +make things lighter for 'er if I could,--which I can't; jest as if, to +help Miss Anthea, I wouldn't let 'em take me an'--well, never mind +what,--only I would!" + +"Yes, I'm sure you would," nodded Bellew. "And is the Squire over here +at Dapplemere very often, Adam?" + +"Why, not so much lately, sir. Last time were yesterday, jest afore +Master Georgy come 'ome. I were at work here in the yard, an' Squire +comes riding up to me, smiling quite friendly like,--which were pretty +good of him, considering as Job Jagway ain't back to work yet. 'Oh +Adam!' sez he, 'so you're 'aving a sale here at Dapplemere, are you?' +Meaning sir, a sale of some bits, an' sticks o' furnitur' as Miss +Anthea's forced to part wi' to meet some bill or other. 'Summat o' that +sir,' says I, making as light of it as I could. 'Why then, Adam,' sez +he, 'if Job Jagway should 'appen to come over to buy a few o' the +things,--no more fighting!' sez he. An' so he nods, an' smiles, an' off +he rides. An' sir, as I watched him go, the 'Old Adam' riz up in me to +that extent as it's a mercy I didn't have no pitchfork 'andy." + +Bellew, sitting on the shaft of a cart with his back against a rick, +listened to this narration with an air of dreamy abstraction, but Adam's +quick eyes noticed that despite the unruffled serenity of his brow, his +chin seemed rather more prominent than usual. + +"So that was why you were feeling gloomy, was it, Adam?" + +"Ah! an' enough to make any man feel gloomy, I should think. Miss +Anthea's brave enough, but I reckon 'twill come nigh breakin' 'er 'eart +to see the old stuff sold, the furnitur' an' that,--so she's goin' to +drive over to Cranbrook to be out o' the way while it's a-doin'." + +"And when does the sale take place?" + +"The Saturday arter next, sir, as ever was," Adam answered. +"But--hush,--mum's the word, sir!" he broke off, and winking violently +with a side-ways motion of the head, he took up his pitch-fork. +Wherefore, glancing round, Bellew saw Anthea coming towards them, fresh +and sweet as the morning. Her hands were full of flowers, and she +carried her sun-bonnet upon her arm. Here and there a rebellious curl +had escaped from its fastenings as though desirous (and very naturally) +of kissing the soft oval of her cheek, or the white curve of her neck. +And among them Bellew noticed one in particular,--a roguish curl that +glowed in the sun with a coppery light, and peeped at him wantonly +above her ear. + +"Good morning!" said he, rising and, to all appearance, addressing the +curl in question, "you are early abroad this morning!" + +"Early, Mr. Bellew!--why I've been up hours. I'm generally out at four +o'clock on market days; we work hard, and long, at Dapplemere," she +answered, giving him her hand with her grave, sweet smile. + +"Aye, for sure!" nodded Adam, "but farmin' ain't what it was in my young +days!" + +"But I think we shall do well with the hops, Adam." + +"'Ops, Miss Anthea,--lord love you!--there ain't no 'ops nowhere so good +as ourn be!" + +"They ought to be ready for picking, soon,--do you think sixty people +will be enough?" + +"Ah!--they'll be more'n enough, Miss Anthea." + +"And, Adam--the five-acre field should be mowed today." + +"I'll set the men at it right arter breakfast,--I'll 'ave it done, trust +me, Miss Anthea." + +"I do, Adam,--you know that!" And with a smiling nod she turned away. +Now, as Bellew walked on beside her, he felt a strange constraint upon +him such as he had never experienced towards any woman before, and the +which he was at great pains with himself to account for. Indeed so rapt +was he, that he started suddenly to find that she was asking him +a question: + +"Do you--like Dapplemere, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Like it!" he repeated, "like it? Yes indeed!" + +"I'm so glad!" she answered, her eyes glowing with pleasure. "It was a +much larger property, once,--Look!" and she pointed away across +corn-fields and rolling meadow to the distant woods. "In my +grandfather's time it was all his--as far as you can see, and farther, +but it has dwindled since then, and to-day, my Dapplemere is very +small indeed." + +"You must be very fond of such a beautiful place." + +"Oh, I love it!" she cried passionately, "if ever I had to--give it +up,--I think I should--die!" She stopped suddenly, and as though +somewhat abashed by this sudden outburst, adding in a lighter tone: "If +I seem rather tragic it is because this is the only home I have +ever known." + +"Well," said Bellew, appearing rather more dreamy than usual, just then, +"I have journeyed here and there in this world of ours, I have wandered +up and down, and to and fro in it,--like a certain celebrated personage +who shall be nameless,--yet I never saw, or dreamed, of any such place +as this Dapplemere of yours. It is like Arcadia itself, and only I am +out of place. I seem, somehow, to be too common-place, and altogether +matter-of-fact." + +"I'm sure I'm matter-of-fact enough," she said, with her low, sweet +laugh that, Bellew thought, was all too rare. + +"You?" said he, and shook his head. + +"Well?" she enquired, glancing at him through her wind-tossed curls. + +"You are like some fair, and stately lady out of the old romances," he +said gravely. + +"In a print gown, and with a sun-bonnet!" + +"Even so!" he nodded. Here, for no apparent reason, happening to meet +his glance, the colour deepened in her cheek and she was silent; +wherefore Bellew went on, in his slow, placid tones. "You surely, are +the Princess ruling this fair land of Arcadia, and I am the Stranger +within your gates. It behoves you, therefore, to be merciful to this +Stranger, if only for the sake of--er--our mutual nephew." + +Whatever Anthea might have said in answer was cut short by Small Porges +himself who came galloping towards them with the sun bright in +his curls. + +"Oh, Uncle Porges!" he panted as he came up, "I was 'fraid you'd gone +away an' left me,--I've been hunting, an' hunting for you ever since +I got up." + +"No, I haven't gone away yet, my Porges, you see." + +"An' you won't go--ever or ever, will you?" + +"That," said Bellew, taking the small hand in his, "that is a question +that we had better leave to the--er--future, nephew." + +"But--why!" + +"Well, you see, it doesn't rest with me--altogether, my Porges." + +"Then who--" he was beginning, but Anthea's soft voice interrupted him. + +"Georgy dear, didn't Prudence send you to tell us that breakfast was +ready?" + +"Oh yes! I was forgetting,--awfull' silly of me wasn't it! But you are +going to stay--Oh a long, long time, aren't you, Uncle Porges?" + +"I sincerely hope so!" answered Bellew. Now as he spoke, his eyes,--by +the merest chance in the world, of course,--happened to meet Anthea's, +whereupon she turned, and slipped on her sunbonnet which was very +natural, for the sun was growing hot already. + +"I'm awful' glad!" sighed Small Porges, "an' Auntie's glad too,--aren't +you Auntie?" + +"Why--of course!" from the depths of the sunbonnet. + +"'Cause now, you see, there'll be two of us to take care of you. Uncle +Porges is so nice an' big, and--wide, isn't he, Auntie?" + +"Y-e-s,--Oh Georgy!--what are you talking about?" + +"Why I mean I'm rather small to take care of you all by myself alone, +Auntie, though I do my best of course. But now that I've found myself a +big, tall Uncle Porges,--under the hedge, you know,--we can take care of +you together, can't we, Auntie Anthea?" + +But Anthea only hurried on without speaking, whereupon Small Porges +continued all unheeding: + +"You 'member the other night, Auntie, when you were crying, you said you +wished you had some one very big, and strong to take care of you--" + +"Oh--Georgy!" + +Bellew heartily wished that sunbonnets had never been thought of. + +"But you did you know, Auntie, an' so that was why I went out an' found +my Uncle Porges for you,--so that he--" + +But here, Mistress Anthea, for all her pride and stateliness, catching +her gown about her, fairly ran on down the path and never paused until +she had reached the cool, dim parlour. Being there, she tossed aside her +sunbonnet, and looked at herself in the long, old mirror, and,--though +surely no mirror made by man, ever reflected a fairer vision of +dark-eyed witchery and loveliness, nevertheless Anthea stamped her foot, +and frowned at it. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, and then again, "Oh Georgy!" and covered her +burning cheeks. + +Meanwhile Big Porges, and Small Porges, walking along hand in hand shook +their heads solemnly, wondering much upon the capriciousness of aunts, +and the waywardness thereof. + +"I wonder why she runned away, Uncle Porges?" + +"Ah, I wonder!" + +"'Specks she's a bit angry with me, you know, 'cause I told you she was +crying." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"An Auntie takes an awful lot of looking after!" sighed Small Porges. + +"Yes," nodded Bellew, "I suppose so,--especially if she happens to be +young, and--er--" + +"An' what, Uncle Porges?" + +"Beautiful, nephew." + +"Oh! Do you think she's--really beautiful?" demanded Small Porges. + +"I'm afraid I do," Bellew confessed. + +"So does Mr. Cassilis,--I heard him tell her so once--in the orchard." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"Ah! but you ought to see her when she comes to tuck me up at night, +with her hair all down, an' hanging all about her--like a shiny cloak, +you know." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"Please Uncle Porges," said Georgy, turning to look up at him, "what +makes you hum so much this morning?" + +"I was thinking, my Porges." + +"'Bout my Auntie Anthea?" + +"I do admit the soft impeachment, sir." + +"Well, I'm thinking too." + +"What is it, old chap?" + +"I'm thinking we ought to begin to find that fortune for her after +breakfast." + +"Why, it isn't quite the right season for fortune hunting, yet--at +least, not in Arcadia," answered Bellew, shaking his head. + +"Oh!--but why not?" + +"Well, the moon isn't right, for one thing." + +"The moon!" echoed Small Porges. + +"Oh yes,--we must wait for a--er--a Money Moon, you know,--surely you've +heard of a Money Moon?" + +"'Fraid not," sighed Small Porges regretfully, "but--I've heard of a +Honey-moon--" + +"They're often much the same!" nodded Bellew. + +"But when will the Money Moon come, an'--how?" + +"I can't exactly say, my Porges, but come it will one of these fine +nights. And when it does we shall know that the fortune is close by, and +waiting to be found. So, don't worry your small head about it,--just +keep your eye on your uncle." + +Betimes they came in to breakfast where Anthea awaited them at the head +of the table. Then who so demure, so gracious and self-possessed, so +sweetly sedate as she. But the Cavalier in the picture above the carved +mantel, versed in the ways of the world, and the pretty tricks and wiles +of the Beau Sex Feminine, smiled down at Bellew with an expression of +such roguish waggery as said plain as words: "We know!" And Bellew, +remembering a certain pair of slender ankles that had revealed +themselves in their hurried flight, smiled back at the cavalier, and it +was all he could do to refrain from winking outright. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +_Which tells of Miss Priscilla, of peaches, and of Sergeant Appleby late +of the 19th Hussars_ + +Small Porges was at his lessons. He was perched at the great oak table +beside the window, pen in hand, and within easy reach of Anthea who sat +busied with her daily letters and accounts. Small Porges was laboriously +inscribing in a somewhat splashed and besmeared copy-book the rather +surprising facts that: + +A stitch in time, saves nine. 9. + +That: + +The Tagus, a river in Spain. R. + +and that: + +Artaxerxes was a king of the Persians. A. + +and the like surprising, curious, and interesting items of news, his pen +making not half so many curls, and twists as did his small, red tongue. +As he wrote, he frowned terrifically, and sighed oft betwixt whiles; and +Bellew watching, where he stood outside the window, noticed that Anthea +frowned also, as she bent over her accounts, and sighed wearily more +than once. + +It was after a sigh rather more hopeless than usual that, chancing to +raise her eyes they encountered those of the watcher outside, who, +seeing himself discovered, smiled, and came to lean in at the +open window. + +"Won't they balance?" he enquired, with a nod toward the heap of bills, +and papers before her. + +"Oh yes," she answered with a rueful little smile, "but--on the wrong +side, if you know what I mean." + +"I know," he nodded, watching how her lashes curled against her cheek. + +"If only we had done better with our first crop of wheat!" she sighed. + +"Job Jagway said it was mouldy, you know,--that's why Adam punched him +in the--" + +"Georgy,--go on with your work, sir!" + +"Yes, Auntie!" And immediately Small Porges' pen began to scratch, and +his tongue to writhe and twist as before. + +"I'm building all my hopes, this year, on the hops," said Anthea, +sinking her head upon her hand, "if they should fail--" + +"Well?" enquired Bellew, with his gaze upon the soft curve of her +throat. + +"I--daren't think of it!" + +"Then don't--let us talk of something else--" + +"Yes,--of Aunt Priscilla!" nodded Anthea, "she is in the garden." + +"And pray who is Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Go and meet her." + +"But--" + +"Go and find her--in the orchard!" repeated Anthea, "Oh do go, and leave +us to our work." + +Thus it was that turning obediently into the orchard, and looking about, +Bellew presently espied a little, bright-eyed old lady who sat beneath +the shadow of "King Arthur" with a rustic table beside her upon which +stood a basket of sewing. Now, as he went, he chanced to spy a ball of +worsted that had fallen by the way, and stooping, therefore, he picked +it up, while she watched him with her quick, bright eyes. + +"Good morning, Mr. Bellew!" she said in response to his salutation, "it +was nice of you to trouble to pick up an old woman's ball of worsted." +As she spoke, she rose, and dropped him a courtesy, and then, as he +looked at her again, he saw that despite her words, and despite her +white hair, she was much younger, and prettier than he had thought. + +"I am Miss Anthea's house-keeper," she went on, "I was away when you +arrived, looking after one of Miss Anthea's old ladies,--pray be seated. +Miss Anthea,--bless her dear heart!--calls me her aunt, but I'm not +really--Oh dear no! I'm no relation at all! But I've lived with her long +enough to feel as if I was her aunt, and her uncle, and her father, and +her mother--all rolled into one,--though I should be rather small to be +so many,--shouldn't I?" and she laughed so gaily, and unaffectedly, that +Bellew laughed too. + +"I tell you all this," she went on, keeping pace to her flying needle, +"because I have taken a fancy to you--on the spot! I always like, or +dislike a person--on the spot,--first impressions you know! Y-e-e-s," +she continued, glancing up at him side-ways, "I like you just as much as +I dislike Mr. Cassilis,--heigho! how I do--detest that man! There, now +that's off my mind!" + +"And why?" enquired Bellew, smiling. + +"Dear me, Mr. Bellew I--how should I know, only I do,--and what's +more--he knows it too! And how," she enquired, changing the subject +abruptly, "how is your bed,--comfortable, mm?" + +"Very!" + +"You sleep well?" + +"Like a top!" + +"Any complaints, so far?" + +"None whatever," laughed Bellew, shaking his head. + +"That is very well. We have never had a boarder before, and Miss +Anthea,--bless her dear soul! was a little nervous about it. And here's +the Sergeant!" + +"I--er--beg your pardon--?" said Bellew. + +"The Sergeant!" repeated Miss Priscilla, with a prim little nod, +"Sergeant Appleby, late of the Nineteenth Hussars,--a soldier every inch +of him, Mr. Bellew,--with one arm--over there by the peaches." Glancing +in the direction she indicated, Bellew observed a tall figure, very +straight and upright, clad in a tight-fitting blue coat, with extremely +tight trousers strapped beneath the insteps, and with a hat balanced +upon his close-cropped, grizzled head at a perfectly impossible angle +for any save an ex-cavalry-man. Now as he stood examining a peach-tree +that flourished against the opposite wall, Bellew saw that his right +sleeve was empty, sure enough, and was looped across his broad chest. + +"The very first thing he will say will be that 'it is a very fine day,'" +nodded Miss Priscilla, stitching away faster than ever, "and the next, +that 'the peaches are doing remarkably well,'--now mark my words, Mr. +Bellew." As she spoke, the Sergeant wheeled suddenly right about face, +and came striding down towards them, jingling imaginary spurs, and with +his stick tucked up under his remaining arm, very much as if it had +been a sabre. + +Being come up to them, the Sergeant raised a stiff arm as though about +to salute them, military fashion, but, apparently changing his mind, +took off the straw hat instead, and put it on again, more over one ear +than ever. + +"A particular fine day, Miss Priscilla, for the time o' the year," said +he. + +"Indeed I quite agree with you Sergeant," returned little Miss Priscilla +with a bright nod, and a sly glance at Bellew, as much as to say, "I +told you so!" "And the peaches, mam," continued the Sergeant, "the +peaches--never looked--better, mam." Having said which, he stood looking +at nothing in particular, with his one hand resting lightly upon +his hip. + +"Yes, to be sure, Sergeant," nodded Miss Priscilla, with another sly +look. "But let me introduce you to Mr. Bellew who is staying at +Dapplemere." The Sergeant stiffened, once more began a salute, changed +his mind, took off his hat instead, and, after looking at it as though +not quite sure what to do with it next, clapped it back upon his ear, in +imminent danger of falling off, and was done with it. + +"Proud to know you, sir,--your servant, sir!" + +"How do you do!" said Bellew, and held out his hand with his frank +smile. The Sergeant hesitated, then put out his remaining hand. + +"My left, sir," said he apologetically, "can't be helped--left my +right--out in India--a good many years ago. Good place for soldiering, +India, sir--plenty of active service--chances of promotion--though +sun bad!" + +"Sergeant," said Miss Priscilla, without seeming to glance up from her +sewing, "Sergeant,--your hat!" Hereupon, the Sergeant gave a sudden, +sideways jerk of the head, and, in the very nick of time, saved the +article in question from tumbling off, and very dexterously brought it +to the top of his close-cropped head, whence it immediately began, +slowly, and by scarcely perceptible degrees to slide down to his +ear again. + +"Sergeant," said Miss Priscilla again, "sit down,--do." + +"Thank you mam," said he, and proceeded to seat himself at the other end +of the rustic bench, where he remained, bolt upright, and with his long +legs stretched out straight before him, as is, and has been, the manner +of cavalrymen since they first wore straps. + +"And now," said he, staring straight in front of him, "how might Miss +Anthea be?" + +"Oh, very well, thank you," nodded Miss Priscilla. + +"Good!" exclaimed the Sergeant, with his eyes still fixed, "very good!" +Here he passed his hand two or three times across his shaven chin, +regarding an apple-tree, nearby, with an expression of the most +profound interest: + +"And how," said he again, "how might Master Georgy be?" + +"Master Georgy is as well as ever," answered Miss Priscilla, stitching +away faster than before, and Bellew thought she kept her rosy cheeks +stooped a little lower over her work. Meanwhile the Sergeant continued +to regard the tree with the same degree of lively interest, and to rasp +his fingers to and fro across his chin. Suddenly, he coughed behind +hand, whereupon Miss Priscilla raised her head, and looked at him. + +"Well?" she enquired, very softly: + +"And pray, mam," said the Sergeant, removing his gaze from the tree with +a jerk, "how might--you be feeling, mam?" + +"Much the same as usual, thank you," she answered, smiling like a girl, +for all her white hair, as the Sergeant's eyes met hers. + +"You look," said he, pausing to cough behind his hand again, "you +look--blooming, mam,--if you'll allow the expression,--blooming,--as you +ever do, mam." + +"I'm an old woman, Sergeant, as well you know!" sighed Miss Priscilla, +shaking her head. + +"Old, mam!" repeated the Sergeant, "old, mam!--nothing of the sort, +mam!--Age has nothing to do with it.--'Tisn't the years as count.--We +aren't any older than we feel,--eh, sir?" + +"Of course not!" answered Bellew. + +"Nor than we look,--eh sir?" + +"Certainly not, Sergeant!" answered Bellew. + +"And she, sir,--she don't look--a day older than--" + +"Thirty five!" said Bellew. + +"Exactly, sir, very true! My own opinion,--thirty five exactly, sir." + +"Sergeant," said Miss Priscilla, bending over her work again, +"Sergeant,--your hat!" The Sergeant, hereupon, removed the distracting +head-gear altogether, and sat with it upon his knee, staring hard at the +tree again. Then, all at once, with a sudden gesture he drew a large, +silver watch from his pocket,--rather as if it were some weapon of +offence,--looked at it, listened to it, and then nodding his head, rose +to his feet. + +"Must be going," he said, standing very straight, and looking down at +little Miss Priscilla, "though sorry, as ever,--must be going, +mam,--Miss Priscilla mam--good day to you!" And he stretched out his +hand to her with a sudden, jerky movement. Miss Priscilla paused in her +sewing, and looked up at him with her youthful smile: + +"Must you go--so soon, Sergeant? Then Good-bye,--until to-morrow," and +she laid her very small hand in his big palm. The Sergeant stared down +at it as though he were greatly minded to raise it to his lips, instead +of doing which, he dropped it, suddenly, and turned to Bellew: + +"Sir, I am--proud to have met you. Sir, there is a poor crippled soldier +as I know,--My cottage is very small, and humble sir, but if you ever +feel like--dropping in on him, sir,--by day or night, he will +be--honoured, sir, honoured! And that's me--Sergeant Richard +Appleby--late of the Nineteenth Hussars--at your service, sir!" saying +which, he put on his hat, stiff-armed, wheeled, and strode away through +the orchard, jingling his imaginary spurs louder than ever. + +"Well?" enquired Miss Priscilla in her quick, bright way, "Well Mr. +Bellew, what do you think of him?--first impressions are always +best,--at least, I think so,--what do you think of Sergeant Appleby?" + +"I think he's a splendid fellow," said Bellew, looking after the +Sergeant's upright figure. + +"A very foolish old fellow, I think, and as stiff as one of the ram-rods +of one of his own guns!" said Miss Priscilla, but her clear, blue eyes +were very soft, and tender as she spoke. + +"And as fine a soldier as a man, I'm sure," said Bellew. + +"Why yes, he _was_ a good soldier, once upon a time, I believe,--he won +the Victoria Cross for doing something or other that was very brave, and +he wears it with all his other medals, pinned on the inside of his coat. +Oh yes, he was a fine soldier, once, but he's a very foolish old +soldier, now,--I think, and as stiff as the ram-rod of one of his own +guns. But I'm glad you like him, Mr. Bellew, and he will be proud, and +happy for you to call and see him at his cottage. And now, I suppose, it +is half past eleven, isn't it?" + +"Yes, just half past!" nodded Bellew, glancing at his watch. + +"Exact to time, as usual!" said Miss Priscilla, "I don't think the +Sergeant has missed a minute, or varied a minute in the last five +years,--you see, he is such a very methodical man, Mr. Bellew!" + +"Why then, does he come every day, at the same hour?" + +"Every day!" nodded Miss Priscilla, "it has become a matter of habit +with him." + +"Ah?" said Bellew, smiling. + +"If you were to ask me why he comes, I should answer that I fancy it is +to--look at the peaches. Dear me, Mr. Bellew! what a very foolish old +soldier he is, to be sure!" Saying which, pretty, bright-eyed Miss +Priscilla, laughed again, folded up her work, settled it in the basket +with a deft little pat, and, rising, took a small, crutch stick from +where it had lain concealed, and then, Bellew saw that she was lame. + +"Oh yes,--I'm a cripple, you see," she nodded,--"Oh very, very lame! my +ankle, you know. That is why I came here, the big world didn't want a +poor, lame, old woman,--that is why Miss Anthea made me her Aunt, God +bless her! No thank you,--I can carry my basket. So you see,--he--has +lost an arm,--his right one, and I--am lame in my foot. Perhaps that is +why--Heigho! how beautifully the black birds are singing this morning, +to be sure!" + + + +CHAPTER IX + +_In which may be found some description of Arcadia, and gooseberries_ + +Anthea, leaning on her rake in a shady corner of the five-acre field, +turned to watch Bellew who, stripped to his shirt-sleeves, bare of neck, +and arm, and pitch-fork in hand, was busy tossing up great mounds of +sweet-smelling hay to Adam who stood upon a waggon to receive it, with +Small Porges perched up beside him. + +A week had elapsed since Bellew had found his way to Dapplemere, a week +which had only served to strengthen the bonds of affection between him +and his "nephew," and to win over sharp-eyed, shrewd little Miss +Priscilla to the extent of declaring him to be: "First a gentleman, +Anthea, my dear, and Secondly,--what is much rarer, now-a-days,--a true +man!" A week! and already he was hail-fellow-well-met with everyone +about the place, for who was proof against his unaffected gaiety, his +simple, easy, good-fellowship? So he laughed, and joked as he swung his +pitch-fork, (awkwardly enough, to be sure), and received all hints, and +directions as to its use, in the kindly spirit they were tendered. And +Anthea, watching him from her shady corner, sighed once or twice, and +catching herself, so doing, stamped her foot at herself, and pulled her +sunbonnet closer about her face. + +"No, Adam," he was saying, "depend upon it, there is nothing like +exercise, and, of all exercise,--give me a pitch-fork." + +"Why, as to that, Mr. Belloo, sir," Adam retorted, "I say--so be it, so +long as I ain't near the wrong end of it, for the way you do 'ave of +flourishin' an' a whirlin' that theer fork, is fair as-tonishin', I do +declare it be." + +"Why you see, Adam, there are some born with a leaning towards +pitch-forks, as there are others born to the pen, and the--er--palette, +and things, but for me, Adam, the pitch-fork, every time!" said Bellew, +mopping his brow. + +"If you was to try an' 'andle it more as if it _was_ a pitchfork now, +Mr. Belloo, sir--" suggested Adam, and, not waiting for Bellew's +laughing rejoinder, he chirrupped to the horses, and the great waggon +creaked away with its mountainous load, surmounted by Adam's grinning +visage, and Small Porges' golden curls, and followed by the rest of the +merry-voiced hay-makers. + +Now it was, that turning his head, Bellew espied Anthea watching him, +whereupon he shouldered his fork, and coming to where she sat upon a +throne of hay, he sank down at her feet with a luxurious sigh. She had +never seen him without a collar, before, and now she could not but +notice how round, and white, and powerful his neck was, and how the +muscles bulged upon arm, and shoulder, and how his hair curled in small, +damp rings upon his brow. + +"It is good," said he, looking up into the witching face, above him, +"yes, it is very good to see you idle--just for once." + +"And I was thinking it was good to see you work,--just for once." + +"Work!" he exclaimed, "my dear Miss Anthea, I assure you I have become a +positive glutton for work. It has become my earnest desire to plant +things, and grow things, and chop things with axes; to mow things with +scythes. I dream of pastures, and ploughs, of pails and pitchforks, by +night; and, by day, reaping-hooks, hoes, and rakes, are in my thoughts +continually,--which all goes to show the effect of this wonderful air of +Arcadia. Indeed, I am as full of suppressed energy, these days, as Adam +is of the 'Old Adam.' And, talking of Adam reminds me that he has +solemnly pledged himself to initiate me into the mysteries of swinging a +scythe to-morrow morning at--five o'clock! Yes indeed, my heart bounds +responsive to the swish of a scythe in thick grass, and my soul sits +enraptured upon a pitch-fork." + +"How ridiculous you are!" she laughed. + +"And how perfectly content!" he added. + +"Is anyone ever quite content?" she sighed, glancing down at him, +wistful-eyed. + +"Not unless they have found Arcadia," he answered. + +"Have you then?" + +"Yes," he nodded complacently, "oh yes, I've found it." + +"Are you--sure?" + +"Quite sure!" + +"Arcadia!" she repeated, wrinkling her brows, "what is Arcadia +and--where?" + +"Arcadia," answered Bellew, watching the smoke rise up from his pipe, +with a dreamy eye, "Arcadia is the--Promised Land,--the Land that +everyone tries to find, sometime or other, and may be--anywhere." + +"And how came you to--find it?" + +"By the most fortunate chance in the world." + +"Tell me," said Anthea, taking a wisp of hay, and beginning to plait it +in dexterous, brown fingers, "tell me how you found it." + +"Why then you must know, in the first place," he began in his slow, even +voice, "that it is a place I have sought for in all my wanderings, and I +have been pretty far afield,--but I sought it so long, and so vainly, +that I began to think it was like the El Dorado of the old Adventurers, +and had never existed at all." + +"Yes?" said Anthea, busy with her plaiting. + +"But, one day,--Fate, or Chance, or Destiny,--or their benevolent +spirit, sent a certain square-shouldered Waggoner to show me the way, +and, after him, a very small Porges,--bless him!--to lead me into this +wonderful Arcadia." + +"Oh, I see!" nodded Anthea, very intent upon her plaiting. + +"But there is something more," said Bellew. + +"Oh?" said Anthea. + +"Shall I tell you?" + +"If--it is--very interesting." + +"Well then, in this delightful land there is a castle, grim, embattled, +and very strong." + +"A castle?" said Anthea, glancing up suddenly. + +"The Castle of Heart's Desire." + +"Oh!" said she, and gave all her attention to her plaiting again. + +"And so," continued Bellew, "I am waiting, very patiently, until, in her +own good time, she who rules within, shall open the gate to me, or--bid +me go away." + +Into Bellew's voice had crept a thrill no one had ever heard there +before; he leaned nearer to her, and his dreamy eyes were keen now, and +eager. And she, though she saw nothing of all this, yet, being a woman, +knew it was there, of course, and, for that very reason, looked +resolutely away. Wherefore, once again, Bellew heartily wished that +sunbonnets had never been invented. + +So there was silence while Anthea stared away across the golden +corn-fields, yet saw nothing of them, and Bellew looked upon those +slender, capable fingers, that had faltered in their plaiting and +stopped. And thus, upon the silence there broke a sudden voice shrill +with interest: + +"Go on, Uncle Porges,--what about the dragons? Oh, please go +on!--there's always dragons in 'chanted castles, you know, to guard the +lovely Princess,--aren't you going to have any dragons that hiss, you +know, an' spit out smoke, an' flames? Oh!--do please have a dragon." And +Small Porges appeared from the other side of the hay-mow, flushed, +and eager. + +"Certainly, my Porges," nodded Bellew, drawing the small figure down +beside him, "I was forgetting the dragons, but there they are, with +scaly backs, and iron claws, spitting out sparks and flames, just as +self-respecting dragons should, and roaring away like thunder." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Small Porges, nestling closer to Bellew, and reaching +out a hand to Auntie Anthea, "that's fine! let's have plenty +of dragons." + +"Do you think a--er--dozen would be enough, my Porges?" + +"Oh yes! But s'pose the beautiful Princess didn't open the door,--what +would you do if you were really a wandering knight who was waiting +patiently for it to open,--what would you do then?" + +"Shin up a tree, my Porges." + +"Oh but that wouldn't be a bit right--would it, Auntie?" + +"Of course not!" laughed Anthea, "it would be most un-knight-like, and +very undignified." + +"'Sides," added Small Porges, "you couldn't climb up a tree in your +armour, you know." + +"Then I'd make an awful' good try at it!" nodded Bellew. + +"No," said Small Porges, shaking his head, "shall I tell you what you +ought to do? Well then, you'd draw your two-edged sword, an' dress your +shield,--like Gareth, the Kitchen Knave did,--he was always dressing his +shield, an' so was Lancelot,--an' you'd fight all those dragons, an' +kill them, an' cut their heads off." + +"And then what would happen?" enquired Bellew. + +"Why then the lovely Princess would open the gate, an' marry you of +course, an' live happy ever after, an' all would be revelry an' joy." + +"Ah!" sighed Bellew, "if she'd do that, I think I'd fight all the +dragons that ever roared,--and kill them too. But supposing +she--er--wouldn't open the gate." + +"Why then," said Small Porges, wrinkling his brow, "why then--you'd have +to storm the castle, of course, an' break open the gate an' run off with +the Princess on your charger,--if she was very beautiful, you know." + +"A most excellent idea, my Porges! If I should happen to find myself in +like circumstances, I'll surely take your advice." + +Now, as he spoke, Bellew glanced at Anthea, and she at him. And +straightway she blushed, and then she laughed, and then she blushed +again, and, still blushing, rose to her feet, and turned to find Mr. +Cassilis within a yard of them. + +"Ah, Miss Anthea," said he, lifting his hat, "I sent Georgy to find you, +but it seems he forgot to mention that I was waiting." + +"I'm awful' sorry, Mr. Cassilis,--but Uncle Porges was telling us 'bout +dragons, you know," Small Porges hastened to explain. + +"Dragons!" repeated Mr. Cassilis, with his supercilious smile, "ah, +indeed! dragons should be interesting, especially in such a very quiet, +shady nook as this,--quite an idyllic place for story-telling, it's a +positive shame to disturb you," and his sharp, white teeth gleamed +beneath his moustache, as he spoke, and he tapped his riding-boot +lightly with his hunting-crop as he fronted Bellew, who had risen, and +stood bare-armed, leaning upon his pitch-fork. And, as in their first +meeting, there was a mute antagonism in their look. + +"Let me introduce you to each other," said Anthea, conscious of this +attitude,--"Mr. Cassilis, of Brampton Court,--Mr. Bellew!" + +"Of nowhere in particular, sir!" added Bellew. + +"And pray," said Mr. Cassilis perfunctorily as they strolled on across +the meadow, "how do you like Dapplemere, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Immensely, sir,--beyond all expression!" + +"Yes, it is considered rather pretty, I believe." + +"Lovely, sir!" nodded Bellew, "though it is not so much the beauty of +the place itself, that appeals to me so much as what it--contains." + +"Oh, indeed!" said Mr. Cassilis, with a sudden, sharp glance, "to what +do you refer?" + +"Goose-berries, sir!" + +"I--ah--beg your pardon?" + +"Sir," said Bellew gravely, "all my life I have fostered a secret +passion for goose-berries--raw, or cooked,--in pie, pudding or jam, they +are equally alluring. Unhappily the American goose-berry is but a hollow +mockery, at best--" + +"Ha?" said Mr. Cassilis, dubiously. + +"Now, in goose-berries, as in everything else, sir, there is to be found +the superlative, the quintessence,--the ideal. Consequently I have +roamed East and West, and North and South, in quest of it." + +"Really?" said Mr. Cassilis, stifling a yawn, and turning towards Miss +Anthea with the very slightest shrug of his shoulders. + +"And, in Dapplemere," concluded Bellew, solemnly, "I have, at last, +found my ideal--" + +"Goose-berry!" added Anthea with a laugh in her eyes. + +"Arcadia being a land of ideals!" nodded Bellew. + +"Ideals," said Mr. Cassilis, caressing his moustache, "ideals +and--ah--goose-berries,--though probably excellent things in themselves, +are apt to pall upon one, in time; personally, I find them equally +insipid,--" + +"Of course it is all a matter of taste!" sighed Bellew. + +"But," Mr. Cassilis went on, fairly turning his back upon him, "the +subject I wished to discuss with you, Miss Anthea, was the--er +--approaching sale." + +"The sale!" she repeated, all the brightness dying out of her face. + +"I wished," said Cassilis, leaning nearer to her, and lowering his voice +confidentially, "to try to convince you how--unnecessary it would +be--if--" and he paused, significantly. + +Anthea turned quickly aside, as though to hide her mortification from +Bellew's keen eyes; whereupon he, seeing it all, became, straightway, +more dreamy than ever, and, laying a hand upon Small Porges' shoulder, +pointed with his pitch-fork to where at the other end of the "Five-acre" +the hay-makers worked away as merrily as ever: + +"Come, my Porges," said he, "let us away and join yon happy throng, +and--er-- + + 'With Daphnis, and Clo, and Blowsabel + We'll list to the--er--cuckoo in the dell.'" + +So, hand in hand, the two Porges set off together. But when they had +gone some distance, Bellew looked back, and then he saw that Anthea +walked with her head averted, yet Cassilis walked close beside her, and +stooped, now and then, until the black moustache came very near the +curl--that curl of wanton witchery that peeped above her ear. + +"Uncle Porges--why do you frown so?" + +"Frown, my Porges,--did I? Well, I was thinking." + +"Well, I'm thinking too, only I don't frown, you know, but I'm thinking +just the same." + +"And what might you be thinking, nephew?" + +"Why I was thinking that although you're so awful fond of goose-berries, +an' though there's lots of ripe ones on the bushes I've never seen you +eat a single one." + + + +CHAPTER X + +_How Bellew and Adam entered into a solemn league and covenant_ + +"Look at the moon to-night, Uncle Porges!" + +"I see it." + +"It's awfull' big, an' round, isn't it?" + +"Yes, it's very big, and very round." + +"An'--rather--yellow, isn't it?" + +"Very yellow!" + +"Just like a great, big golden sovereign, isn't it" + +"Very much like a sovereign, my Porges." + +"Well, do you know, I was wondering--if there was any chance that it was +a--Money Moon?" + +They were leaning out at the lattice, Small Porges, and Big Porges. +Anthea and Miss Priscilla were busied upon household matters wholly +feminine, wherefore Small Porges had drawn Bellew to the window, and +there they leaned, the small body enfolded by Bellew's long arm, and the +two faces turned up to the silvery splendour of the moon. + +But now, Anthea came up behind them, and, not noticing the position of +Bellew's arm as she leaned on the other side of Small Porges, it befell +that her hand touched, and for a moment, rested upon Bellew's hand, +hidden as it was in the shadow. And this probably began it. + +The air of Arcadia, as has been said before, is an intoxicating air; but +it is more, it is an air charged with a subtle magic whereby the +commonest objects, losing their prosaic, matter-of-fact shapes, become +transfigured into things of wonder, and delight. Little things that pass +as mere ordinary common-places,--things insignificant, and wholly +beneath notice in the every day world, become fraught with such infinite +meaning, and may hold such sublime, such undreamed of possibilities +--here in Arcadia. Thus, when it is recorded that Anthea's hand +accidentally touched, and rested upon Bellew's--the significance of it +will become at once apparent. + +"And pray," said Anthea, laying that same hand in the most natural +manner in the world, upon the Small Porges' curls, "Pray what might you +two be discussing so very solemnly?" + +"The moon," answered Small Porges. "I was wondering if it was a Money +Moon, an' Uncle Porges hasn't said if it is, yet." + +"Why no, old chap," answered Bellew, "I'm afraid not." + +"And pray," said Anthea again, "what might a Money Moon be?" + +"Well," explained Small Porges, "when the moon's just--just so, then you +go out an'--an' find a fortune, you know. But the moon's got to be a +Money Moon, and you've got to know, you know, else you'll find nothing, +of course." + +"Ah Georgy dear!" sighed Anthea, stooping her dark head down to his +golden curls, "don't you know that fortunes are very hard to get, and +that they have to be worked for, and that no one ever found one without +a great deal of labour, and sorrow?" + +"'Course--everyone can't find fortunes, Auntie Anthea, I know that, but +we shall,--my Uncle Porges knows all about it, you see, an' I know that +we shall. I'm sure as sure we shall find one, some day, 'cause, you see, +I put it in my prayers now,--at the end, you know. I say: 'An' please +help me an' my Uncle Porges to find a fortune when the Money Moon +comes,--a big one, world without end--Amen!' So you see, it's all right, +an' we're just waiting till the Money Moon comes, aren't we, +Uncle Porges?" + +"Yes, old chap, yes," nodded Bellew, "until the Money Moon comes." + +And so there fell a silence between them, yet a silence that held a +wondrous charm of its own; a silence that lasted so long that the +coppery curls drooped lower, and lower upon Bellew's arm, until Anthea, +sighing, rose, and in a very tender voice bade Small Porges say +'Goodnight!' the which he did, forthwith, slumberous of voice, and +sleepy eyed, and so, with his hand in Anthea's, went drowsily up to bed. + +Wherefore, seeing that Miss Priscilla had bustled away into the kitchen, +Bellew sauntered out into the rose-garden to look upon the beauty of the +night. The warm air was fragrant with dewy scents, and the moon, already +high above the tree-tops, poured down her gentle radiance upon the +quaint, old garden with its winding walks, and clipped yew hedges, while +upon the quiet, from the dim shadow of the distant woods, stole the +soft, sweet song of a nightingale. + +Bellew walked a path bordered with flowers, and checkered with silver +patches of moon-light, drinking in the thousand beauties about him, +staring up at the glory of the moon, the indigo of the sky, and +listening to the voice of the lonely singer in the wood. And yet it was +of none of these he was thinking as he paused under the shadow of "King +Arthur,"--nor of Small Porges, nor of any one or anything in this world +but only of the sudden, light touch of a warm, soft hand upon his. "Be +that you, sir?" Bellew started and now he found that he had been +sitting, all this while, with an empty pipe between his teeth, yet +content therewith; wherefore he shook his head, and wondered. + +"Be that you, Mr. Beloo, sir?" + +"Yes Adam, it is I." + +"Ah! an' how might you be feelin' now--arter your exercise wi' the +pitch-fork, sir?" + +"Very fit, I thank you, Adam. Sit down, and smoke, and let us converse +together." + +"Why thankee sir," answered Adam, producing the small, black clay pipe +from his waistcoat pocket, and accepting Bellew's proffered pouch. "I've +been up to the 'ouse a visitin' Prudence, the cook,--an' a rare cook she +be, too, Mr. Beloo sir!" + +"And a rare buxom girl into the bargain, Adam!" + +"Oh, ah!--she's well enough, sir; I won't go for to deny as she's a +fine, up-standing, well-shaped, tall, an' proper figure of a woman as +ever was, sir,--though the Kentish lasses be a tidy lot, Mr. Beloo sir. +But, Lord! when you come to think of her gift for Yorkshire Puddin', +likewise jam-rollers, and seed-cake,--(which, though mentioned last, +ain't by no manner o' means least),--when you come to think of her brew +o' ale, an' cider, an' ginger wine,--why then--I'm took, sir, I'm took +altogether, an' the 'Old Adam' inside o' me works hisself into such a +state that if another chap--'specially that there Job Jagway gets +lookin' her way too often, why it's got to get took out o' him, or took +out o' me in good 'ard knocks, Mr. Belloo, sir." + +"And when are you going to get married, Adam?" + +"Well sir, we was thinkin' that if Miss Anthea has a good season, this +year, we'd get it over an' done wi' some time in October, sir,--but it's +all accordin'." + +"According to what?" + +"To the 'ops, sir,--the H-O-P-S--'ops, sir. They're comin' on fine,--ah! +scrumptuous they be! If they don't take the blight, sir, they'll be the +finest 'ops this side o' Maidstone. But then, if they do take the +blight,--why then my 'opes is blighted likewise sir,--B-L-I-T-E-D, +--blighted, Mr. Belloo sir!" which said, Adam laughed once, nodded his +head several times, and relapsed into puffing silence. + +"Mr. Cassilis was over to-day, Adam," said Bellew, after a while +pursuing a train of thought. + +"Ah sir!--I seen him,--'e also seen me. 'E told me as Job Jagway was up +and about again,--likewise Job Jagway will be over 'ere to-morrow, along +wi' the rest of 'em for the sale, sir." + +"Ah yes,--the sale!" said Bellew, thoughtfully. + +"To think o' that there Job Jagway a coming over here to buy Miss +Anthea's furnitur' do set the Old Adam a workin' inside o' me to that +amazin' extent as I can't sit still, Mr. Belloo sir! If that there Job +crosses my path to-morrer--well--let 'im--look out, that's all!" saying +which, Adam doubled up a huge, knotted fist and shook it at an +imaginary Job. + +"Adam," said Bellew, in the same thoughtful tone, "I wonder if you would +do something for me?" + +"Anything you ax me, sir, so long as you don't want me to--" + +"I want you to buy some of that furniture for me." + +"What!" exclaimed Adam, and vented his great laugh again, "well, if that +ain't a good 'un, sir! why that's just w'ot I'm a going to do! Ye see, I +ain't w'ot you might call a rich cove, nor yet a millionaire, but I've +got a bit put by, an' I drawed out ten pound, yesterday. Thinks +I,--'here's to save Miss Anthea's old sideboard, or the mirror as she's +so fond of, or if not--why then a cheer or so,--they ain't a going to +get it all,--not while I've got a pound or two,' I sez to myself." + +"Adam," said Bellew, turning suddenly, "that sentiment does you credit, +that sentiment makes me proud to have knocked you into a ditch,--shake +hands, Adam." And there, beneath the great apple tree, while the moon +looked on, they very solemnly shook hands. + +"And now, Adam," pursued Bellew, "I want you to put back your ten +pounds, keep it for Prudence,--because I happen to have rather more than +we shall want,--see here!" And, with the words, Bellew took out a +leathern wallet, and from this wallet, money, and bank-notes,--more +money, and more bank-notes than Adam had ever beheld in all his thirty +odd years, at sight of which his eyes opened, and his square jaw +relaxed, to the imminent danger of his cherished clay pipe. + +"I want you to take this," Bellew went on, counting a sum into Adam's +nerveless hand, "and to-morrow, when the sale begins, if any one makes a +bid for anything, I want you to bid higher, and, no matter what, you +must always buy--always, you understand?" + +"But sir,--that there old drorin'-room cab'net wi' the--carvings--" + +"Buy it!" + +"An' the silver candle-sticks,--and the four-post bed-stead,--an' the--" + +"Buy 'em, Adam,--buy everything! If we haven't enough money there's +plenty more where this came from,--only buy!--You understand?" + +"Oh yes sir, I understand! 'Ow much 'ave you give me? Why, +here's--forty-five,--fifty,--sixty,--Lord!--" + +"Put it away, Adam,--forget all about it till to-morrow,--and not a +word, mind!" + +"A hundred pound!" gasped Adam, "Lord!--Oh I won't speak of it, trust +me, Mr. Belloo, sir! But to think of me a walking about wi' a hundred +pound in my pocket,--Lord! I won't say nothing--but to think of Old Adam +wi' a hundred pound in his pocket, e'Cod! it do seem that comical!" +saying which, Adam buttoned the money into a capacious pocket, slapped +it, nodded, and rose. "Well sir, I'll be going,--there be Miss Anthea in +the garden yonder, and if she was to see me now there's no sayin' but I +should be took a laughin' to think o' this 'ere hundred pound." + +"Miss Anthea!--where?" + +"Comin' through the rose-gardin. She be off to see old Mother Dibbin. +They call Mother Dibbin a witch, an' now as she's down wi' the +rheumatics there ain't nobody to look arter 'er,--'cept Miss +Anthea,--she'd ha' starved afore now if it 'adn't been for Miss Anthea, +but Lord love your eyes, an' limbs, Mr. Belloo sir! Miss Anthea don't +care if she's a witch, or fifty witches, not she! So good-night, Mr. +Belloo sir, an' mum's the word!" + +Saying which, Adam slapped his pocket again, nodded, winked, and went +upon his way. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +_Of the "Man with the Tiger Mark"_ + +It is a moot question as to whether a curl can be more alluring when it +glows beneath the fiery kisses of the sun, or shines demurely in the +tender radiance of the moon. As Bellew looked at it now,--that same +small curl that nodded and beckoned to him above Anthea's left ear,--he +strongly inclined to the latter opinion. + +"Adam tells me that you are going out, Miss Anthea." + +"Only as far as Mrs. Dibbin's cottage,--just across the meadow." + +"Adam also informs me that Mrs. Dibbin is a witch." + +"People call her so." + +"Never in all my days have I seen a genuine, old witch,--so I'll come +with you, if I may?" + +"Oh, this is a very gentle old witch, and she is neither humpbacked, nor +does she ride a broom-stick,--so I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, +Mr. Bellew." + +"Then, at least, I can carry your basket,--allow me!" And so, in his +quiet, masterful fashion he took the basket from her arm, and walked on +beside her, through the orchard. + +"What a glorious night it is!" exclaimed Anthea suddenly, drawing a deep +breath of the fragrant air,--"Oh! it is good to be alive! In spite of +all the cares, and worries, life is very sweet!" + +After this, they walked on some distance in silence, she gazing +wistfully upon the beauties of the familiar world about her while he +watched the curl above her ear until she, becoming aware of it all at +once, promptly sent it back into retirement, with a quick, deft little +pat of her fingers. + +"I hope," said Bellew at last, "I do sincerely hope that you 'tucked up' +my nephew safe in bed,--you see--" + +"Your nephew, indeed!" + +"Our nephew, then; I ask because he tells me that he can't possibly +sleep unless you go to 'tuck him up,'--and I can quite believe it." + +"Do you know, Mr. Bellew, I'm growing quite jealous of you, he can't +move a step without you, and he is for ever talking, and lauding your +numberless virtues!" + +"But then--I'm only an uncle, after all, and if he talks of me to you, +he talks of you to me, all day long." + +"Oh, does he!" + +"And, among other things, he told me that I ought to see you when your +hair is down, and all about you." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Anthea. + +"Indeed, our nephew is much luckier than I, because I never had an aunt +of my own to come and 'tuck me up' at night with her hair hanging all +about her--like a beautiful cloak. So, you see, I have no boyish +recollections to go upon, but I think I can imagine--" + +"And what do you think of the Sergeant?" Anthea enquired, changing the +subject abruptly. + +"I like him so much that I am going to take him at his word, and call +upon him at the first opportunity." + +"Did Aunt Priscilla tell you that he comes marching along regularly +every day, at exactly the same hour?" + +"Yes,--to see how the peaches are getting on!" nodded Bellew. + +"For such a very brave soldier he is a dreadful coward," said Anthea, +smiling, "it has taken him five years to screw up courage enough to tell +her that she's uncommonly young for her age. And yet, I think it is just +that diffidence that makes him so lovable. And he is so simple, and so +gentle--in spite of all his war medals. When I am moody, and cross, the +very sight of him is enough to put me in humour again." + +"Has he never--spoken to Miss Priscilla,--?" + +"Never,--though, of course, she knows, and has done from the very first. +I asked him once, why he had never told her what it was brought him so +regularly,--to look at the peaches,--and he said, in his quick, sharp +way: 'Miss Anthea,--can't be done, mam,--a poor, battered, old +soldier,--only one arm,--no mam.'" + +"I wonder if one could find just such another Sergeant outside Arcadia," +said Bellew, "I wonder!" + +Now they were approaching a stile towards which Bellew had directed his +eyes, from time to time, as, for that matter, curiously enough, had +Anthea; but to him it seemed that it never would be reached, while to +her, it seemed that it would be reached much too soon. Therefore she +began to rack her mind trying to remember some gate, or any gap in the +hedge that should obviate the necessity of climbing it. But, before she +could recall any such gate, or gap, they were at the stile, and Bellew, +leaping over, had set down the basket, and stretched out his hand to aid +her over. But Anthea, tall, and lithe, active and vigorous with her +outdoor life, and used to such things from her infancy, stood a moment +hesitating. To be sure, the stile was rather high, yet she could have +vaulted it nearly, if not quite, as easily as Bellew himself, had she +been alone. But then, she was not alone, moreover, be it remembered, +this was in Arcadia of a mid-summer night. Thus, she hesitated, only a +moment, it is true, for, seeing the quizzical look in his eyes that +always made her vaguely rebellious,--with a quick, light movement, she +mounted the stile, and there paused to shake her head in laughing +disdain of his out-stretched hand; then--there was the sound of rending +cambric, she tripped, and, next moment, he had caught her in his arms. +It was for but a very brief instant that she lay, soft and yielding, in +his embrace, yet she was conscious of how strong were the arms that held +her so easily, ere they set her down. + +"I beg your pardon!--how awkward I am!" she exclaimed, in hot +mortification. + +"No," said Bellew, shaking his head, "it was a nail, you know, a bent, +and rusty nail,--here, under the top bar. Is your dress much torn?" + +"Oh, that is nothing, thank you!" + +So they went on again, but now they were silent once more, and very +naturally, for Anthea was mightily angry,--with herself, the stile, +Bellew, and everything concerned; while he was thinking of the sudden, +warm clasp of her arms, of the alluring fragrance of her hair, and of +the shy droop of her lashes as she lay in his embrace. Therefore, as he +walked on beside her, saying nothing, within his secret soul he poured +benedictions upon the head of that bent, and rusty nail. + +And presently, having turned down a grassy lane and crossed a small but +very noisy brook that chattered impertinences among the stones and +chuckled at them slyly from the shadows, they eventually came upon a +small, and very lonely little cottage bowered in roses and +honeysuckle,--as are all the cottages hereabouts. But now Anthea paused, +looking at Bellew with a dubious brow. + +"I ought to warn you that Mrs. Dibbin is very old, and sometimes a +little queer, and sometimes says very--surprising things." + +"Excellent!" nodded Bellew, holding the little gate open for her, "very +right and proper conduct in a witch, and I love surprises above +all things." + +But Anthea still hesitated, while Bellew stood with his hand upon the +gate, waiting for her to enter. Now he had left his hat behind him, and, +as the moon shone down on his bare head, she could not but notice how +bright, and yellow was his hair, despite the thick, black brows below. + +"I think I--would rather you waited outside,--if you don't mind, Mr. +Bellew." + +"You mean that I am to be denied the joy of conversing with a real, +live, old witch, and having my fortune told?" he sighed. "Well, if such +is your will--so be it," said he obediently, and handed her the basket. + +"I won't keep you waiting very long,--and--thank you!" she smiled, and, +hurrying up the narrow path, she tapped at the cottage door. + +"Come in! come in!" cried an old, quavering voice, albeit, very sharp, +and piercing. "That be my own soft dove of a maid,--my proud, beautiful, +white lady! Come in! come in!--and bring him wi' you,--him as is so big, +and strong,--him as I've expected so long,--the tall, golden man from +over seas. Bid him come in, Miss Anthea, that Goody Dibbin's old eyes +may look at him at last." + +Hereupon, at a sign from Anthea, Bellew turned in at the gate, and +striding up the path, entered the cottage. + +Despite the season, a fire burned upon the hearth, and crouched over +this, in a great elbow-chair, sat a very bent, and aged woman. Her face +was furrowed, and seamed with numberless lines and wrinkles, but her +eyes were still bright, and she wore no spectacles; likewise her white +hair was wonderfully thick, and abundant, as could plainly be seen +beneath the frill of her cap, for, like the very small room of this very +small cottage, she was extremely neat, and tidy. She had a great, +curving nose, and a great, curving chin, and what with this and her +bright, black eyes, and stooping figure, she was very much like what a +witch should be,--albeit a very superior kind of old witch. + +She sat, for a while, staring up at Bellew who stood tall, and +bare-headed, smiling down at her; and then, all at once, she nodded her +head three several, and distinct times. + +"Right!" she quavered, "right! right,--it be all right!--the golden man +as I've watched this many an' many a day, wi' the curly hair, and the +sleepy eye, and the Tiger-mark upon his arm,--right! right!" + +"What do you mean by 'Tiger-mark?'" enquired Bellew. + +"I mean, young master wi' your golden curls,--I mean as, sitting here +day in, and day out, staring down into my fire, I has my +dreams,--leastways, I calls 'em my dreams, though there's them as calls +it the 'second sight.' But pray sit down, tall sir, on the stool there; +and you, my tender maid, my dark lady, come you here--upon my right, +and, if you wish, I'll look into the ink, or read your pretty hand, or +tell you what I see down there in the fire. But no,--first, show what +you have brought for Old Nannie in the blessed basket,--the fine, strong +basket as holds so much. Yes, set it down here--where I can open it +myself, tall sir. Eh,--what's this?--Tea! God bless you for the tea, my +dear! And eggs, and butter,--and a cold chicken!--the Lord bless your +kind heart, Miss Anthea! Ah, my proud lady, happy the man who shall win +ye! Happy the man who shall wed ye, my dark, beautiful maid. And strong +must he be, aye, and masterful he who shall wake the love-light in those +dark, great, passionate eyes of yours. And there is no man in all this +world can do it but he must be a golden man--wi' the Tiger-mark +upon him." + +"Why--oh Nannie--!" + +"Aye,--blush if ye will, my dark lady, but Mother Dibbin knows she's +seen it in the fire, dreamed it in her dreams, and read it in the ink. +The path lies very dark afore ye, my lady,--aye very dark it be, and +full o' cares, and troubles, but there's the sun shining +beyond,--bright, and golden. You be proud, and high, and scornful, my +lady,--'tis in your blood,--you'll need a strong hand to guide ye,--and +the strong hand shall come. By force you shall be wooed, and by force +you shall be wed,--and there be no man strong enough to woo, and wed ye, +but him as I've told ye of--him as bears the Tiger-mark." + +"But Nannie," said Anthea again, gently interrupting her, and patting +the old woman's shrivelled hand, "you're forgetting the basket,--you +haven't found all we've brought you, yet." + +"Aye, aye!" nodded old Nannie, "the fine, strong basket,--let's see what +more be in the good, kind basket. Here's bread, and sugar,--and--" + +"A pound of your favourite tobacco!" said Anthea, with a smiling nod. + +"Oh the good weed! The blessed weed!" cried the old woman, clutching the +package with trembling fingers. "Ah! who can tell the comfort it has +been to me in the long, long days, and the long, long nights,--the +blessed weed! when I've sat here a looking and a looking into the fire. +God bless you, my sweet maid, for your kindly thought!" and, with a +sudden gesture, she caught Anthea's hand to her lips, and then, just as +suddenly turned upon Bellew. + +"And now, tall sir, can I do ought for ye? Shall I look into the fire +for ye, or the ink, or read your hand?" + +"Why yes," answered Bellew, stretching out his hand to her, "you shall +tell me two things, if you will; first, shall one ever find his way into +the 'Castle of Heart's Desire,' and secondly;--When?" + +"Oh, but I don't need to look into your hand to tell you that, tall sir, +nor yet in the ink, or in the fire, for I've dreamed it all in my +dreams. And now, see you, 'tis a strong place, this Castle,--wi' thick +doors, and great locks, and bars. But I have seen those doors broke' +down,--those great locks, and bars burst asunder,--but--there is none +can do this but him as bears the Tiger-Mark. So much for the first. And, +for the second,--Happiness shall come a riding to you on the full +moon,--but you must reach up--and take it for yourself,--if you be +tall enough." + +"And--even you are not tall enough to do that, Mr. Bellew!" laughed +Anthea, as she rose to bid Old Nannie "Good-night," while Bellew, +unnoticed, slipped certain coins upon a corner of the chimney-piece. So, +old Nannie blessed them, and theirs,--past, present, and future, +thoroughly and completely, with a fine comprehensiveness that only a +genuinely accomplished old witch might hope to attain to, and, following +them to the door, paused there with one shrivelled, claw-like hand +up-lifted towards the sky: + +"At the full o' the moon, tall sir!" she repeated, "at the full o' the +moon! As for you, my dark-eyed lady, I say, by force you shall be wooed, +and by force ye shall be wed, aye! aye!--but there is no man strong +enough except he have the Tiger-Mark upon him. Old Nannie knows,--she's +seen it in the ink, dreamed it in the fire, and read it all in your +pretty hand. And now--thank ye for the tea, my pretty, and God bless ye +for the good weed, and just so sure as you've been good, and kind to old +Nannie, so shall Fortune be good and kind to you, Miss Anthea." + +"Poor old Nannie!" said Anthea, as they went on down the grassy lane, +"she is so very grateful for so little. And she is such a gentle old +creature really, though the country folk do call her a witch and are +afraid of her because they say she has the 'evil eye,'--which is +ridiculous, of course! But nobody ever goes near her, and she is +dreadfully lonely, poor old thing!" + +"And so that is why you come to sit with her, and let her talk to you?" +enquired Bellew, staring up at the moon. + +"Yes." + +"And do you believe in her dreams, and visions?" + +"No,--of course not!" answered Anthea, rather hurriedly, and with a +deeper colour in her cheeks, though Bellew was still intent upon the +moon. "You don't either,--do you?" she enquired, seeing he was silent. + +"Well, I don't quite know," he answered slowly, "but she is rather a +wonderful old lady, I think." + +"Yes, she has wonderful thick hair still," nodded Anthea, "and she's not +a bit deaf, and her eyes are as clear, and sharp as ever they were." + +"Yes, but I wasn't meaning her eyes, or her hair, or her hearing." + +"Oh,--then pray what were you pleased to mean?" + +"Did you happen to notice what she said about a--er--Man with, +a--Tiger-Mark?" enquired Bellew, still gazing up at the moon. + +Anthea laughed: + +"The Man with the Tiger-Mark,--of course! he has been much in her +dreams, lately, and she has talked of him a great deal,--" + +"Has she?" said Bellew, "ha!" + +"Yes,--her mind is full of strange twists, and fancies,--you see she is +so very old,--and she loves to tell me her dreams, and read the +future for me." + +"Though, of course, you don't believe it," said Bellew. + +"Believe it!" Anthea repeated, and walked some dozen paces, or so, +before she answered,--"no, of course not." + +"Then--none of your fortune,--nothing she told you has ever come true?" + +Once more Anthea hesitated, this time so long that Bellew turned from +his moon-gazing to look at her. + +"I mean," he went on, "has none of it ever come true,--about this Man +with the Tiger-Mark, for instance?" + +"No,--oh no!" answered Anthea, rather hastily, and laughed again. "Old +Nannie has seen him in her dreams--everywhere,--in India, and Africa, +and China; in hot countries, and cold countries--oh! Nannie has seen him +everywhere, but I have seen him--nowhere, and, of course, I +never shall." + +"Ah!" said Bellew, "and she reads him always in your fortune, does she?" + +"And I listen very patiently," Anthea nodded, "because it pleases her so +much, and it is all so very harmless, after all, isn't it?" + +"Yes," answered Bellew, "and very wonderful!" + +"Wonderful?--poor old Nannie's fancies!--What do you mean by wonderful?" + +"Upon my word, I hardly know," said Bellew, shaking his head, "but +'there are more things in heaven, and earth,' etc., you know, and this +is one of them." + +"Really!--now you grow mysterious, Mr. Bellew." + +"Like the night!" he answered, turning to aid her across the impertinent +brook that chuckled at them, and laughed after them, as only such a very +impertinent brook possibly could. + +So, betimes, they reached the stile, and crossed it, this time without +mishap, despite the lurking nail and, all too soon for Bellew, had +traversed the orchard, and were come to the garden where the roses all +hung so still upon their stems that they might have been asleep, and +filling the air with the perfume of their dreams. + +And here they paused, perhaps because of the witchery of the moon, +perhaps to listen to the voice of the nightingale who sang on more +gloriously than ever. Yet, though they stood so close together, their +glances seldom met, and they were very silent. But at last, as though +making up her mind, Anthea spoke: + +"What did you mean when you said Old Nannie's dreams were so wonderful?" +she asked. + +"I'll show you!" he answered, and, while he spoke, slipped off his coat, +and drawing up his shirt-sleeve, held out a muscular, white arm towards +her. He held it out in the full radiance of the moon, and thus, looking +down at it, her eyes grew suddenly wide, and her breath caught strangely +as surprise gave place to something else; for there, plain to be seen +upon the white flesh, were three long scars that wound up from elbow to +shoulder. And so, for a while, they stood thus, she looking at his arm, +and he at her. + +"Why--" said she at last, finding voice in a little gasp,--"why then--" + +"I am the Man with the Tiger Mark!" he said, smiling his slow, placid +smile. Now, as his eyes looked down into hers, she flushed sudden, and +hot, and her glance wavered, and fell beneath his. + +"Oh!" she cried, and, with the word, turned about, and fled from him +into the house. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +_In which may be found a full, true, and particular account of the sale_ + +"Uncle Porges, there's a little man in the hall with a red, red nose, +an' a blue, blue chin,--" + +"Yes, I've seen him,--also his nose, and chin, my Porges." + +"But he's sticking little papers with numbers on them, all over my +Auntie Anthea's chairs,--an' tables. Now what do you s'pose he's doing +that for?" + +"Who knows? It's probably all on account of his red nose, and blue chin, +my Porges. Anyway, don't worry about him,--let us rather, find our +Auntie Anthea." + +They found her in the hall. And it _was_ a hall, here, at Dapplemere, +wide, and high, and with a minstrel's gallery at one end; a hall that, +years and years ago, had often rung with the clash of men-at-arms, and +echoed with loud, and jovial laughter, for this was the most ancient +part of the Manor. + +It looked rather bare, and barren, just now, for the furniture was all +moved out of place,--ranged neatly round the walls, and stacked at the +farther end, beneath the gallery where the little man in question, blue +of chin, and red of nose, was hovering about it, dabbing little tickets +on chairs, and tables,--even as Small Porges had said. + +And, in the midst of it all, stood Anthea, a desolate figure, Bellew +thought, who, upon his entrance, bent her head to draw on her driving +gloves, for she was waiting for the dog-cart which was to bear her, and +Small Porges to Cranbrook, far away from the hollow tap of the +auctioneer's hammer. + +"We're getting rid of some of the old furniture, you see, Mr. Bellew," +she said, laying her hand on an antique cabinet nearby,--"we really have +much more than we ever use." + +"Yes," said Bellew. But he noticed that her eyes were very dark and +wistful, despite her light tone, and that she had laid her hand upon the +old cabinet with a touch very like a caress. + +"Why is that man's nose so awful' red, and his chin so blue, Auntie +Anthea?" enquired Small Porges, in a hissing stage whisper. + +"Hush Georgy!--I don't know," said Anthea. + +"An' why is he sticking his little numbers all over our best furniture!" + +"That is to guide the auctioneer." + +"Where to,--an' what is an auctioneer?" + +But, at this moment, hearing the wheels of the dog-cart at the door, +Anthea turned, and hastened out into the sunshine. + +"A lovely day it do be for drivin'," said Adam touching his hat, "an' +Bess be thinkin' the same, I do believe!" and he patted the glossy coat +of the mare, who arched her neck, and pawed the gravel with an impatient +hoof. Lightly, and nimbly Anthea swung herself up to the high seat, +turning to make Small Porges secure beside her, as Bellew handed him up. + +"You'll--look after things for me, Adam?" said Anthea, glancing back +wistfully into the dim recesses of the cool, old hall. + +"Aye,--I will that, Miss Anthea!" + +"Mr. Bellew, we can find room for you if you care to come with us?" + +"Thanks," said he, shaking his head, "but I rather think I'll stay here, +and--er--help Adam to--to--look after things, if you don't mind." + +"Then,--'Good-bye!'" said Anthea, and, nodding to Adam, he gave the mare +her head, and off they went. + +"Good-bye!" cried Small Porges, "an' thank you for the shilling Uncle +Porges." + +"The mare is--er--rather fresh this morning, isn't she, Adam?" enquired +Bellew, watching the dog-cart's rapid course. + +"Fresh sir?" + +"And that's rather a--er--dangerous sort of thing for a woman to drive, +isn't it?" + +"Meanin' the dog-cart, sir?" + +"Meaning the dog-cart, Adam." + +"Why, Lord love ye, Mr. Belloo sir!" cried Adam with his great laugh, +"there ain't nobody can 'andle the ribbons better than Miss +Anthea,--there ain't a horse as she can't drive,--ah! or ride, for that +matter,--not no-wheres, sir." + +"Hum!" said Bellew, and, having watched the dog-cart out of sight, he +turned and followed Adam into the stables. + +And here, sitting upon a bale of hay, they smoked many pipes together in +earnest converse, until such time as the sale should begin. + +As the day advanced, people began arriving in twos and threes, and, +among the first, the Auctioneer himself. A jovial-faced man, was this +Auctioneer, with jovial manner, and a jovial smile. Indeed, his +joviality seemed, somehow or other, to have got into the very buttons of +his coat, for they fairly winked, and twinkled with joviality. Upon +catching sight of the furniture he became, if possible, more jovial than +ever, and beckoning to his assistant,--that is to say to the small man +with the red nose and the blue chin, who, it seemed answered to the name +of Theodore,--he clapped him jovially upon the back,--(rather as though +he were knocking him down to some unfortunate bidder),--and immediately +fell into business converse with him,--albeit jovial still. + +But all the while intending purchasers were arriving; they came on +horse, and afoot, and in conveyances of every sort and kind, and the +tread of their feet, and the buzz of their voices awoke unwonted echoes +in the old place. And still they came, from far and near, until some +hundred odd people were crowded into the hall. + +Conspicuous among them was a large man with a fat, red neck which he was +continually mopping at, and rubbing with a vivid bandanna handkerchief +scarcely less red. Indeed, red seemed to be his pervading colour, for +his hair was red, his hands were red, and his face, heavy and round, was +reddest of all, out of whose flaming circumference two diminutive but +very sharp eyes winked and blinked continually. His voice, like himself, +was large with a peculiar brassy ring to it that penetrated to the +farthest corners and recesses of the old hall. He was, beyond all doubt, +a man of substance, and of no small importance, for he was greeted +deferentially on all hands, and it was to be noticed that people elbowed +each other to make way for him, as people ever will before substance, +and property. To some of them he nodded, to some he spoke, and with +others he even laughed, albeit he was of a solemn, sober, and serious +nature, as becomes a man of property, and substance. + +Between whiles, however, he bestowed his undivided attention upon the +furniture. He sat down suddenly and heavily, in chairs; he pummelled +them with his plump, red fists,--whereby to test their springs; he +opened the doors of cabinets; he peered into drawers; he rapped upon +tables, and altogether comported himself as a thoroughly knowing man +should, who is not to be hocussed by veneer, or taken in by the shine, +and splendour of well applied bees-wax. Bellew, watching all this from +where he sat screened from the throng by a great carved sideboard, and +divers chairs, and whatnots,--drew rather harder at his pipe, and, +chancing to catch Adam's eye, beckoned him to approach. + +"Who is that round, red man, yonder, Adam?" he enquired, nodding to +where the individual in question was engaged at that moment poking at +something or other with a large, sausage-like finger. + +"That!" replied Adam in a tone of profound disgust, "that be Mr. Grimes, +o' Cranbrook, sir. Calls hisself a corn-chandler,--but I calls +'im,--well, never mind what, sir,--only it weren't at corn-chandling as +'e made all 'is money, sir,--and it be him as we all work, and slave +for,--here at Dapplemere Farm." + +"What do you mean, Adam?" + +"I mean as it be him as holds the mortgage on Dapplemere, sir." + +"Ah,--and how much?" + +"Over three thousand pound, Mr. Belloo sir!" sighed Adam, with a +hopeless shake of the head, "an' that be a powerful lot o' money, sir." + +Bellew thought of the sums he had lavished upon his yacht, upon his +three racing cars, and certain other extravagances. Three thousand +pounds,--fifteen thousand dollars! It would make her a free +woman,--independent,--happy! Just fifteen thousand dollars,--and he had +thrown away more than that upon a poker game, before now! + +"Lord!" exclaimed Adam, "the very sight o' that theer Grimes's pig eyes +a-starin' at Miss Anthea's furnitur' do make the Old Adam rise up in me +to that amazin' extent, Mr. Belloo sir--why, jest look at 'im a-thumpin' +an' a poundin' at that theer chair!" Saying which, Adam turned, and +elbowing his way to where Mr. Grimes was in the act of testing the +springs of an easy chair, he promptly,--and as though forced by a +struggling mob,--fell up against Mr. Grimes, and jostled Mr. Grimes, and +trod heavily upon the toes of Mr. Grimes, and all with an expression of +the most profound unconsciousness and abstraction, which, upon the +indignant Corn-chandler's loud expostulations, immediately changed to a +look of innocent surprise. + +"Can't you look where you're going?--you clumsy fool!" fumed the irate +Grimes, redder of neck than ever. + +"Ax your pardon, Mr. Grimes," said Adam solemnly, "but what wi' people's +legs, an' cheer legs, an' the legs o' tables,--not to mention sideboards +an' cab'nets,--which, though not 'aving no legs, ain't to be by no +manner o' means despised therefore,--w'ot wi' this an' that, an' +t'other, I am that con-fined, or as you might say, con-fused, I don't +know which legs is mine, or yourn, or anybody else's. Mr. Grimes sir,--I +makes so bold as to ax your pardon all over again, sir." During which +speech, Adam contrived, once more, to fall against, to tread upon, and +to jostle the highly incensed Mr. Grimes back into the crowd again. +Thereafter he became a Nemesis to Mr. Grimes, haunting him through the +jungle of chairs, and tables, pursuing him into distant corners, and +shady places, where, so sure as the sausage-like finger poised itself +for an interrogatory poke, or the fat, red fist doubled itself for a +spring-testing punch, the innocent-seeming Adam would thereupon fall +against him from the rear, sideways, or in front. + +Meanwhile, Bellew sat in his secluded corner, watching the crowd through +the blue wreaths of his pipe, but thinking of her who, brave though she +was, had nevertheless run away from it all at the last moment. +Presently, however, he was aware that the Corn-chandler had seated +himself on the other side of the chiffonier, puffing, and panting with +heat, and indignation,--where he was presently joined by another +individual,--a small, rat-eyed man, who bid Mr. Grimes a deferential +"Good-day!" + +"That there Adam," puffed the Corn-chandler, "that there Adam ought to +be throwed out into the stables where he belongs. I never see a man as +was so much growed to feet and elbers, in all my days! He ought to be +took," repeated the Corn-chandler, "and shook, and throwed out into +the yard." + +"Yes," nodded the other, "took, and shook, and throwed out--neck, and +crop, sir! And now,--what might you think o' the furniture, Mr. Grimes?" + +"So so, Parsons," nodded Grimes, "so so!" + +"Shall you buy?" + +"I am a-going," said the Corn-chandler with much deliberation, "I am +a-going to take them tapestry cheers, sir, likewise the grand-feyther +clock in the corner here, likewise the four-post bed-stead wi' the +carved 'ead-board,--and--most particular, Parsons, I shall take this +here side-board. There ain't another piece like this in the county, as I +know of,--solid ma-hogany, sir!--and the carvings!" and herewith, he +gave two loud double knocks upon the article of furniture in question. +"Oh! I've 'ad my eye on this side-board for years, and years,--knowed +I'd get it some day, too,--the only wonder is as she ain't had to sell +up afore now." + +"Meaning Miss Anthea, sir?" + +"Ah,--her! I say as it's a wonder to me,--wo't wi' the interest on the +mortgage I 'old on the place, and one thing and another,--it's a wonder +to me as she's kept her 'ead above water so long. But--mark me, Parsons, +mark me,--she'll be selling again soon, and next time it'll be lock, +stock, and barrel, Parsons!" + +"Well, I don't 'old wi' women farmers, myself!" nodded Parsons. +"But,--as to that cup-board over there,--Sheraton, I think,--what might +you suppose it to be worth,--betwixt friends, now?" enquired Parsons, +the rat eyed. + +"Can't say till I've seed it, and likewise felt it," answered the +Corn-chandler, rising. "Let me lay my 'and upon it, and I'll tell +you--to a shilling," and here, they elbowed their way into the crowd. +But Bellew sat there, chin in hand, quite oblivious to the fact that his +pipe was out, long since. + +The tall, old grand-father clock ticking in leisurely fashion in the +corner behind him, solemn and sedate, as it had done since, (as the neat +inscription upon the dial testified), it had first been made in the Year +of Grace 1732, by one Jabez Havesham, of London;--this ancient +time-piece now uttered a sudden wheeze, (which, considering its great +age, could scarcely be wondered at), and, thereafter, the wheezing +having subsided, gave forth a soft, and mellow chime, proclaiming to all +and sundry, that it was twelve o'clock. Hereupon, the Auctioneer, +bustling to and fro with his hat upon the back of his head, consulted +his watch, nodded to the red nosed, blue-chinned Theodore, and, perching +himself above the crowd, gave three sharp knocks with his hammer. + +"Gentlemen!" he began, but here he was interrupted by a loud voice +upraised in hot anger. + +"Confound ye for a clumsy rascal! Will ye keep them elbers o' yourn to +out o' my weskit, eh? Will ye keep them big feet o' yourn to yeself? If +there ain't room enough for ye,--out ye go, d'ye hear--I'll have ye +took, and shook,--and throwed out where ye belong; so jest mind where ye +come a trampin', and a treadin'." + +"Tread!" repeated Adam, "Lord! where am I to tread? If I steps backward +I tread on ye,--If I steps sideways I tread on ye, if I steps for-ard I +tread on ye. It do seem to me as I can't go nowhere but there you be +a-waitin' to be trod on, Mr. Grimes, sir." + +Hereupon the Auctioneer rapped louder than ever, upon which, the clamour +subsiding, he smiled his most jovial smile, and once more began: + +"Gentlemen! you have all had an opportunity to examine the furniture I +am about to dispose of, and, as fair minded human beings I think you +will admit that a finer lot of genuine antique was never offered at one +and the same time. Gentlemen, I am not going to burst forth into +laudatory rodomontade, (which is a word, gentlemen that I employ only +among an enlightened community such as I now have the honour of +addressing),--neither do I propose to waste your time in purposeless +verbiage, (which is another of the same kind, gentlemen),--therefore, +without further preface, or preamble, we will proceed at once to +business. The first lot I have to offer you is a screen,--six foot +high,--bring out the screen, Theodore! There it is, gentlemen,--open it +out, Theodore! Observe, Gentlemen it is carved rosewood, the panels hand +painted, and representing shepherds, and shepherdesses, disporting +themselves under a tree with banjo and guitar. Now what am I offered for +this hand-painted, antique screen,--come?" + +"Fifteen shillings!" from someone deep hidden in the crowd. + +"Start as low as you like, gentlemen! I am offered a miserable fifteen +shillings for a genuine, hand-painted--" + +"Sixteen!" this from a long, loose-limbed fellow with a patch over one +eye, and another on his cheek. + +"A pound!" said Adam, promptly. + +"A guinea!" nodded he of the patches. + +"Twenty-five shillin's!" said Adam. + +"At twenty-five shillings!" cried the Auctioneer, "any advance?--a +genuine, hand-painted, antique screen,--going at twenty-five--at +twenty-five,--going--going--gone! To the large gentleman in the +neckcloth, Theodore!" + +"Theer be that Job Jagway, sir," said Adam, leaning across the +side-board to impart this information,--"over yonder, Mr. Belloo +sir,--'im as was bidding for the screen,--the tall chap wi' the patches. +Two patches be pretty good, but I do wish as I'd give him a couple more, +while I was about it, Mr. Belloo sir." Here, the Auctioneer's voice put +an end to Adam's self-reproaches, and he turned back to the business +in hand. + +"The next lot I'm going to dispose of, gentlemen, is a fine set of six +chairs with carved antique backs, and upholstered in tapestry. Also two +arm-chairs to match,--wheel 'em out, Theodore! Now what is your price +for these eight fine pieces,--look 'em over and bid accordingly." + +"Thirty shillings!" Again from the depths of the crowd. + +"Ha! ha!--you joke sir!" laughed the Auctioneer, rubbing his hands in +his most jovial manner, "you joke! I can't see you, but you joke of +course, and I laugh accordingly, ha! ha! Thirty shillings for eight, +fine, antique, tapestried, hand-carved chairs,--Oh very +good,--excellent, upon my soul!" + +"Three pound!" said the fiery-necked Corn-chandler. + +"Guineas!" said the rat-eyed Parsons. + +"Four pound!" nodded the Corn-chandler. + +"Four pound ten!" roared Adam. + +"Five!" nodded Grimes, edging away from Adam's elbow. + +"Six pound ten!" cried Adam. + +"Seven!"--from Parsons. + +"Eight!" said Grimes. + +"Ten!" roared Adam, growing desperate. + +"Eleven!" said Grimes, beginning to mop at his neck again. + +Adam hesitated; eleven pounds seemed so very much for those chairs, that +he had seen Prudence and the rosy-cheeked maids dust regularly every +morning, and then,--it was not his money, after all. Therefore Adam +hesitated, and glanced wistfully towards a certain distant corner. + +"At eleven,--at eleven pounds!--this fine suite of hand-carved antique +chairs, at eleven pounds!--at eleven!--at eleven, going--going!--" + +"Fifteen!" said a voice from the distant corner; whereupon Adam drew a +great sigh of relief, while the Corn-chandler contorted himself in his +efforts to glare at Bellew round the side-board. + +"Fifteen pounds!" chanted the Auctioneer, "I have fifteen,--I am given +fifteen,--any advance? These eight antique chairs, going at +fifteen!--going! for the last time,--going!--gone! Sold to the gentleman +in the corner behind the side-board, Theodore." + +"They were certainly fine chairs, Mr. Grimes!" said Parsons shaking his +head. + +"So so!" said the Corn-chandler, sitting down heavily, "So so, Parsons!" +and he turned to glare at Bellew, who, lying back in an easy chair with +his legs upon another, puffed at his pipe, and regarded all things with +a placid interest. + +It is not intended to record in these pages all the bids that were made +as the afternoon advanced, for that would be fatiguing to write, and a +weariness to read; suffice it that lots were put up, and regularly +knocked down but always to Bellew, or Adam. Which last, encouraged by +Bellew's bold advances, gaily roared down, and constantly out-bid all +competitors with such unhesitating pertinacity, that murmurs rose, and +swelled into open complaint. In the midst of which, the fiery-visaged +Corn-chandler, purple now, between heat, and vexation, loudly demanded +that he lay down some substantial deposit upon what he had already +purchased, failing which, he should, there and then, be took, and shook, +and throwed out into the yard. + +"Neck, and crop!" added Mr. Parsons. + +"That seems to be a fair proposition," smiled the Auctioneer, who had +already experienced some doubts as to Adam's financial capabilities, yet +with his joviality all unruffled,--"that seems to be a very fair +proposal indeed. If the gentleman will put down some substantial +deposit now--" + +"Aye, for sure!" nodded Adam, stepping forward; and, unbuttoning a +capacious pocket he drew out a handful of bank-notes, "shall I gi'e ye a +hundred pound,--or will fifty be enough?" + +"Why," said the Auctioneer, rubbing his hands as he eyed the fistful of +bank-notes, "ten pound will be all that is necessary, sir,--just to +ensure good faith, you understand." + +Hereupon, Bellew beckoning to Adam, handed him a like amount which was +duly deposited with the Auctioneer. + +So, once more, the bidding began,--once more lots were put up,--and +knocked down--now to Adam, and now to Bellew. The bed with the carved +head-board had fallen to Adam after a lively contest between him, and +Parsons, and the Corn-chandler, which had left the latter in a state of +perspiring profanity, from which he was by no means recovered, when the +Auctioneer once more rapped for silence. + +"And now, gentlemen, last, but by no means least, we come to the gem of +the sale,--a side-board, gentlemen,--a magnificent, mahogany +side-board, being a superb example of the carver's art! Here is a +side-board, gentlemen, which,--if it can be equalled,--cannot be +excelled--no, gentlemen, not if you were to search all the baronial +halls, and lordly mansions in this land of mansions, and baronials. It +is a truly magnificent piece, in perfect condition,--and to be sold at +your own price. I say no more. Gentlemen,--how much for this +magnificent, mahogany piece?" + +"Ten pound!" + +"Eleven!" + +"Fifteen!" + +"Seventeen!" said Adam, who was rapidly drawing near the end of his +resources. + +"Eighteen!" This from Job Jagway. + +"Go easy there, Job!" hissed Adam, edging a little nearer to him, "go +easy, now,--Nineteen!" + +"Come, come Gentlemen!" remonstrated the Auctioneer, "this isn't a +coal-scuttle, nor a broom, nor yet a pair of tongs,--this is a +magnificent mahogany side-board,--and you offer me--nineteen pound!" + +"Twenty!" said Job. + +"Twenty-one!" roared Adam, making his last bid, and then, turning, he +hissed in Job's unwilling ear,--"go any higher, an' I'll pound ye to a +jelly, Job!" + +"Twenty-five!" said Parsons. + +"Twenty-seven!" + +"Twenty-eight!" + +"Thirty!" nodded Grimes, scowling at Adam. + +"Thirty-two!" cried Parsons. + +"Thirty-six!" + +"Thirty-seven!" + +"Forty!" nodded Grimes. + +"That drops me," said Parsons, sighing, and shaking his head. + +"Ah!" chuckled the Corn-chandler, "well, I've waited years for that +side-board, Parsons, and I ain't going to let you take it away from +me--nor nobody else, sir!" + +"At forty!" cried the Auctioneer, "at forty!--this magnifi--" + +"One!" nodded Bellew, beginning to fill his pipe. + +"Forty-one's the bid,--I have forty-one from the gent in the corner--" + +"Forty-five!" growled the Corn-chandler. + +"Six!" said Bellew. + +"Fifty!" snarled Grimes. + +"One!" said Bellew. + +"Gent in the corner gives me fifty-one!" chanted the Auctioneer--"any +advance?--at fifty-one--" + +"Fifty-five!" said Grimes, beginning to mop at his neck harder than +ever. + +"Add ten!" nodded Bellew. + +"What's that?" cried Grimes, wheeling about. + +"Gent in the corner offers me sixty-five,--at sixty-five,--this +magnificent piece at sixty-five! What, are you all done?--at sixty-five, +and cheap at the price,--come, gentlemen, take your time, give it +another look over, and bid accordingly." + +The crowd had dwindled rapidly during the last hour, which was scarcely +to be wondered at seeing that they were constantly out-bid--either by a +hoarse voiced, square-shouldered fellow in a neck-cloth, or a dreamy +individual who lolled in a corner, and puffed at a pipe. + +But now, as Grimes, his red cheeks puffed out, his little eyes snapping +in a way that many knew meant danger (with a large D)--as the rich +Corn-chandler, whose word was law to a good many, turned and confronted +this lounging, long-legged individual,--such as remained closed round +them in a ring, in keen expectation of what was to follow. Observing +which, the Corn-chandler feeling it incumbent upon him now or never, to +vindicate himself as a man of property, and substance, and not to be put +down, thrust his hands deep into his pockets, spread his legs wide +apart, and stared at Bellew in a way that most people had found highly +disconcerting, before now. Bellew, however, seemed wholly unaffected, +and went on imperturbably filling his pipe. + +"At sixty-five!" cried the Auctioneer, leaning towards Grimes with his +hammer poised, "at sixty-five--Will you make it another pound, +sir!--come,--what do you say?" + +"I say--no sir!" returned the Corn-chandler, slowly, and impressively, +"I say no, sir,--I say--make it another--twenty pound, sir!" Hereupon +heads were shaken, or nodded, and there rose the sudden shuffle of feet +as the crowd closed in nearer. + +"I get eighty-five! any advance on eighty-five?" + +"Eighty-six!" said Bellew, settling the tobacco in his pipe-bowl with +his thumb. + +Once again the Auctioneer leaned over and appealed to the Corn-chandler, +who stood in the same attitude, jingling the money in his pocket, "Come +sir, don't let a pound or so stand between you and a side-board that +can't be matched in the length and breadth of the United Kingdom,--come, +what do you say to another ten shillings?" + +"I say, sir," said Grimes, with his gaze still riveted upon Bellew, "I +say--no sir,--I say make it another--twenty pound sir!" + +Again there rose the shuffle of feet, again heads were nodded, and +elbows nudged neighbouring ribs, and all eyes were focussed upon Bellew +who was in the act of lighting his pipe. + +"One hundred and six pounds!" cried the Auctioneer, "at one six!--at one +six!--" + +Bellew struck a match, but the wind from the open casement behind him, +extinguished it. + +"I have one hundred and six pounds! is there any advance, yes or +no?--going at one hundred and six!" + +Adam who, up till now, had enjoyed the struggle to the utmost, +experienced a sudden qualm of fear. + +Bellew struck another match. + +"At one hundred and six pounds!--at one six,--going at one hundred and +six pounds--!" + +A cold moisture started out on Adam's brow, he clenched his hands, and +muttered between his teeth. Supposing the money were all gone, like his +own share, supposing they had to lose this famous old side-board,--and +to Grimes of all people! This, and much more, was in Adam's mind while +the Auctioneer held his hammer poised, and Bellew went on lighting +his pipe. + +"Going at one hundred and six!--going!--going!--" + +"Fifty up!" said Bellew. His pipe was well alight at last, and he was +nodding to the Auctioneer through a fragrant cloud. + +"What!" cried Grimes, "'ow much?" + +"Gent in the corner gives me one hundred and fifty six pounds," said the +Auctioneer, with a jovial eye upon the Corn-chandler's lowering visage, +"one five six,--all done?--any advance? Going at one five six,--going! +going!--gone!" The hammer fell, and with its tap a sudden silence came +upon the old hall. Then, all at once, the Corn-chandler turned, caught +up his hat, clapped it on, shook a fat fist at Bellew, and crossing to +the door, lumbered away, muttering maledictions as he went. + +By twos and threes the others followed him until there remained only +Adam, Bellew, the Auctioneer, and the red-nosed Theodore. And yet, there +was one other, for, chancing to raise his eyes to the minstrel's +gallery, Bellew espied Miss Priscilla, who, meeting his smiling glance, +leaned down suddenly over the carved rail, and very deliberately, threw +him a kiss, and then hurried away with a quick, light tap-tap of +her stick. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +_How Anthea came home_ + +"Lord!" said Adam, pausing with a chair under either arm, "Lord, Mr. +Belloo sir,--I wonder what Miss Anthea will say?" with which remark he +strode off with the two chairs to set them in their accustomed places. + +Seldom indeed had the old hall despite its many years, seen such a +running to and fro, heard such a patter of flying feet, such merry +voices, such gay, and heart-felt laughter. For here was Miss Priscilla, +looking smaller than ever, in a great arm chair whence she directed the +disposal and arrangement of all things, with quick little motions of her +crutch-stick. And here were the two rosy-cheeked maids, brighter and +rosier than ever, and here was comely Prudence hither come from her +kitchen to bear a hand, and here, as has been said, was Adam, and here +also was Bellew, his pipe laid aside with his coat, pushing, and tugging +in his efforts to get the great side-board back into its customary +position; and all, as has also been said, was laughter, and bustle, and +an eager haste to have all things as they were,--and should be +henceforth,--before Anthea's return. + +"Lord!" exclaimed Adam again, balanced now upon a ladder, and pausing to +wipe his brow with one hand and with a picture swinging in the other, +"Lord! what ever will Miss Anthea say, Mr. Belloo sir!" + +"Ah!" nodded Bellew thoughtfully, "I wonder!" + +"What do you suppose she'll say, Miss Priscilla, mam?" + +"I think you'd better be careful of that picture, Adam!" + +"Which means," said Bellew, smiling down into Miss Priscilla's young, +bright eyes, "that you don't know." + +"Well, Mr. Bellew, she'll be very--glad, of course,--happier I think, +than you or I can guess, because I know she loves every stick, and stave +of that old furniture,--but--" + +"But!" nodded Bellew, "yes, I understand." + +"Mr. Bellew, if Anthea,--God bless her dear heart!--but if she has a +fault--it is pride, Mr. Bellew, Pride! Pride! Pride!--with a capital P!" + +"Yes, she is very proud." + +"She'll be that 'appy-'earted," said Adam, pausing near-by with a great +armful of miscellaneous articles, "an' that full o' joy as never was! +Mr. Belloo sir!" Having delivered himself of which, he departed with +his load. + +"I rose this morning--very early, Mr. Bellew,--Oh! very early!" said +Miss Priscilla, following Adam's laden figure with watchful eyes, +"couldn't possibly sleep, you see. So I got up,--ridiculously +early,--but, bless you, she was before me!" + +"Ah!" + +"Oh dear yes!--had been up--hours! And what--what do you suppose she was +doing?" Bellew shook his head. + +"She was rubbing and polishing that old side-board that you paid such a +dreadful price for,--down on her knees before it,--yes she was! and +polishing, and rubbing, and--crying all the while. Oh dear heart! such +great, big tears,--and so very quiet! When she heard my little stick +come tapping along she tried to hide them,--I mean her tears, of course, +Mr. Bellew, and when I drew her dear, beautiful head down into my arms, +she--tried to smile. 'I'm so very silly, Aunt Priscilla,' she said, +crying more than ever, 'but it _is_ so hard to let the old things be +taken away,--you see,--I do _love_ them so! I tell you all this, Mr. +Bellew, because I like you,--ever since you took the trouble to pick up +a ball of worsted for a poor, old lame woman--in an orchard,--first +impressions, you know. And secondly, I tell you all this to explain to +you why I--hum!--" + +"Threw a kiss--from a minstrel's gallery, to a most unworthy individual, +Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Threw you a kiss, Mr. Bellew,--I had to,--the side-board you know,--on +her knees--you understand?" + +"I understand!" + +"You see, Mr. Belloo sir," said Adam, at this juncture, speaking from +beneath an inlaid table which he held balanced upon his head,--"it +ain't as if this was jest ordinary furnitur' sir,--ye see she kind-er +feels as it be all part o' Dapplemere Manor, as it used to be called, +it's all been here so long, that them cheers an' tables has come to be +part o' the 'ouse, sir. So when she comes, an' finds as it ain't all +been took,--or, as you might say,--vanished away,--why the question as I +ax's you is,--w'ot will she say? Oh Lord!" And here, Adam gave vent to +his great laugh which necessitated an almost superhuman exertion of +strength to keep the table from slipping from its precarious perch. +Whereupon Miss Priscilla screamed, (a very small scream, like herself) +and Prudence scolded, and the two rosy-cheeked maids tittered, and Adam +went chuckling upon his way. + +And when the hall was, once more, its old, familiar, comfortable self, +when the floor had been swept of its litter, and every trace of the sale +removed,--then Miss Priscilla sighed, and Bellew put on his coat. + +"When do you expect--she will come home?" he enquired, glancing at the +grandfather clock in the corner. + +"Well, if she drove straight back from Cranbrook she would be here +now,--but I fancy she won't be so very anxious to get home to-day,--and +may come the longest way round; yes, it's in my mind she will keep away +from Dapplemere as long as ever she can." + +"And I think," said Bellew, "Yes, I think I'll take a walk. I'll go and +call upon the Sergeant." + +"The Sergeant!" said Miss Priscilla, "let me see,--it is now a quarter +to six, it should take you about fifteen minutes to the village, that +will make it exactly six o'clock. You will find the Sergeant just +sitting down in the chair on the left hand side of the fire-place,--in +the corner,--at the 'King's Head,' you know. Not that I have ever seen +him there,--good gracious no! but I--happen to be--acquainted with his +habits, and he is as regular and precise as his great, big silver watch, +and that is the most precise, and regular thing in all the world. I am +glad you are going," she went on, "because to-day is--well, a day apart, +Mr. Bellew. You will find the Sergeant at the 'King's Head,'--until half +past seven." + +"Then I will go to the 'King's Head,'" said Bellew. "And what message do +you send him?" + +"None," said Miss Priscilla, laughing and shaking her head,--"at +least,--you can tell him, if you wish,--that--the peaches are riper than +ever they were this evening." + +"I won't forget," said Bellew, smiling, and went out into the sunshine. +But, crossing the yard, he was met by Adam, who, chuckling still, paused +to touch his hat. + +"To look at that theer 'all, sir, you wouldn't never know as there'd +ever been any sale at all,--not no'ow. Now the only question as worrits +me, and as I'm a-axin' of myself constant is,--what will Miss Anthea +'ave to say about it?" + +"Yes," said Bellew, "I wonder!" And so he turned, and went away slowly +across the fields. + +Miss Priscilla had been right,--Anthea _was_ coming back the longest way +round,--also she was anxious to keep away from Dapplemere as long as +possible. Therefore, despite Small Porges' exhortations, and Bess's +champing impatience, she held the mare in, permitting her only the +slowest of paces, which was a most unusual thing for Anthea to do. For +the most part, too, she drove in silence seemingly deaf to Small Porges' +flow of talk, which was also very unlike in her. But before her eyes +were visions of her dismantled home, in her ears was the roar of voices +clamouring for her cherished possessions,--a sickening roar, broken, now +and then, by the hollow tap of the auctioneer's cruel hammer. And, each +time the clamouring voices rose, she shivered, and every blow of the +cruel hammer seemed to fall upon her quivering heart. Thus, she was +unwontedly deaf and unresponsive to Small Porges, who presently fell +into a profound gloom, in consequence; and thus, she held in the eager +mare who therefore, shied, and fidgeted, and tossed her head +indignantly. + +But, slowly as they went, they came within sight of the house, at last, +with its quaint gables, and many latticed windows, and the blue smoke +curling up from its twisted chimneys,--smiling and placid as though, in +all this great world, there were no such thing to be found as--an +auctioneer's hammer. + +And presently they swung into the drive, and drew up in the courtyard. +And there was Adam, waiting to take the mare's head,--Adam, as +good-natured, and stolid as though there were no abominations called, +for want of a worse name,--sales. + +Very slowly, for her, Anthea climbed down from the high dog-cart, aiding +Small Porges to earth, and with his hand clasped tight in hers, and with +lips set firm, she turned and entered the hall. But, upon the threshold, +she stopped, and stood there utterly still, gazing, and gazing upon the +trim orderliness of everything. Then, seeing every well remembered thing +in its appointed place,--all became suddenly blurred, and dim, and, +snatching her hand from Small Porges' clasp, she uttered a great, +choking sob, and covered her face. + +But Small Porges had seen, and stood aghast, and Miss Priscilla had +seen, and now hurried forward with a quick tap, tap of her stick. As she +came, Anthea raised her head, and looked for one who should have been +there, but was not. And, in that moment, instinctively she knew how +things came to be as they were,--and, because of this knowledge, her +cheeks flamed with a swift, burning colour, and with a soft cry, she hid +her face in Miss Priscilla's gentle bosom. Then, while her face was yet +hidden there, she whispered: + +"Tell me--tell me--all about it." + +But, meanwhile, Bellew, striding far away across the meadows, seeming to +watch the glory of the sun-set, and to hearken to a blackbird piping +from the dim seclusion of the copse a melodious "Good-bye" to the dying +day, yet saw, and heard it not at all, for his mind was still occupied +with Adam's question:-- + +"What would Miss Anthea say?" + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +_Which, among, other things, has to do with shrimps, muffins, and tin +whistles_ + +A typical Kentish Village is Dapplemere with its rows of scattered +cottages bowered in roses and honeysuckle,--white walled cottages with +steep-pitched roofs, and small latticed windows that seem to stare at +all and sundry like so many winking eyes. + +There is an air redolent of ripening fruit, and hops, for Dapplemere is +a place of orchards, and hop-gardens, and rick-yards, while, here and +there, the sharp-pointed, red-tiled roof of some oast-house pierces +the green. + +Though Dapplemere village is but a very small place indeed, +now-a-days,--yet it possesses a church, grey and ancient, whose massive +Norman tower looks down upon gable and chimney, upon roof of thatch and +roof of tile, like some benignant giant keeping watch above them all. +Near-by, of course, is the inn, a great, rambling, comfortable place, +with time-worn settles beside the door, and with a mighty sign +a-swinging before it, upon which, plainly to be seen (when the sun +catches it fairly) is that which purports to be a likeness of His +Majesty King William the Fourth, of glorious memory. But alas! the +colours have long since faded, so that now, (upon a dull day), it is a +moot question whether His Majesty's nose was of the Greek, or Roman +order, or, indeed, whether he was blessed with any nose at all. Thus, +Time and Circumstances have united to make a ghost of the likeness (as +they have done of the original, long since) which, fading yet more, and +more, will doubtless eventually vanish altogether,--like King William +himself, and leave but a vague memory behind. + +Now, before the inn was a small crowd gathered about a trap in which sat +two men, one of whom Bellew recognised as the rednecked Corn-chandler +Grimes, and the other, the rat-eyed Parsons. + +The Corn-chandler was mopping violently at his face and neck down which +ran, and to which clung, a foamy substance suspiciously like the froth +of beer, and, as he mopped, his loud brassy voice shook and quavered +with passion. + +"I tell ye--you shall get out o' my cottage!" he was saying, "I say you +shall quit my cottage at the end o' the month,--and when I says a thing, +I means it,--I say you shall get off of my property,--you--and that +beggarly cobbler. I say you shall be throwed out o' my cottage,--lock, +stock, and barrel. I say--" + +"I wouldn't, Mr. Grimes,--leastways, not if I was you," another voice +broke in, calm and deliberate. "No, I wouldn't go for to say another +word, sir; because, if ye do say another word, I know a man as will drag +you down out o' that cart, sir,--I know a man as will break your whip +over your very own back, sir,--I know a man as will then take and heave +you into the horse-pond, sir,--and that man is me--Sergeant Appleby, +late of the Nineteenth Hussars, sir." + +The Corn-chandler having removed most of the froth from his head and +face, stared down at the straight, alert figure of the big Sergeant, +hesitated, glanced at the Sergeant's fist which, though solitary, was +large, and powerful, scowled at the Sergeant from his polished boots to +the crown of his well-brushed hat (which perched upon his close-cropped, +grey hair at a ridiculous angle totally impossible to any but an +ex-cavalry-man), muttered a furious oath, and snatching his whip, cut +viciously at his horse, very much as if that animal had been the +Sergeant himself, and, as the trap lurched forward, he shook his fist, +and nodded his head. + +"Out ye go,--at the end o' the month,--mind that!" he snarled and so, +rattled away down the road still mopping at his head and neck until he +had fairly mopped himself out of sight. + +"Well, Sergeant," said Bellew extending his hand, "how are you!" + +"Hearty, sir,--hearty I thank you, though, at this precise moment, just +a leetle put out, sir. None the less I know a man as is happy to see +you, Mr. Bellew, sir,--and that's me--Sergeant Appleby, at your service, +sir. My cottage lies down the road yonder, an easy march--if you will +step that far?--Speaking for my comrade and myself--we shall be proud +for you to take tea with us--muffins sir--shrimps, Mr. Bellew--also a +pikelet or two.--Not a great feast--but tolerable good rations, sir--and +plenty of 'em--what do you say?" + +"I say--done, and thank you very much!" + +So, without further parley, the Sergeant saluted divers of the little +crowd, and, wheeling sharply, strode along beside Bellew, rather more +stiff in the back, and fixed of eye than was his wont, and jingling his +imaginary spurs rather more loudly than usual. + +"You will be wondering at the tantrums of the man Grimes, sir,--of his +ordering me and my comrade Peterday out of his cottage. Sir--I'll tell +you--in two words. It's all owing to the sale--up at the Farm, sir. You +see, Grimes is a great hand at buying things uncommonly cheap, and +selling 'em--uncommonly dear. To-day it seems--he was disappointed--" + +"Ah?" said Bellew. + +"At exactly--twenty-three minutes to six, sir," said the Sergeant, +consulting his large silver watch, "I were sitting in my usual +corner--beside the chimley, sir,--when in comes Grimes--like a +thunder-cloud.--Calls for a pint of ale--in a tankard. Tom draws +pint--which Tom is the landlord, sir. 'Buy anything at the sale, Mr. +Grimes?' says Tom,--'Sale!' says Grimes, 'sale indeed!' and falls a +cursing--folk up at the Farm--shocking--outrageous. Ends by threatening +to foreclose mortgage--within the month. Upon which--I raise a +protest--upon which he grows abusive,--upon which I was forced to pour +his ale over him,--after which I ran him out into the road--and there it +is, you see." + +"And--he threatened to foreclose the mortgage on Dapplemere Farm, did +he, Sergeant!" + +"Within the month, sir!--upon which I warned him--inn parlour no +place--lady's private money troubles--gaping crowd--dammit!" + +"And so he is turning you out of his cottage?" + +"Within the week, sir,--but then--beer down the neck--is rather +unpleasant!" and here the Sergeant uttered a short laugh, and was +immediately grave again. "It isn't," he went on, "it isn't as _I_ mind +the inconvenience of moving, sir--though I shall be mighty sorry to +leave the old place, still, it isn't that so much as the small corner +cup-board, and my bookshelf by the chimley. There never was such a +cup-board,--no sir,--there never was a cup-board so well calculated to +hold a pair o' jack boots, not to mention spurs, highlows, burnishers, +shoulder-chains, polishing brushes, and--a boot-jack, as that same small +corner cup-board. As for the book-shelf beside the chimley, +sir--exactly three foot three,--sunk in a recess--height, the third +button o' my coat,--capacity, fourteen books. You couldn't get another +book on that shelf--no, not if you tried with a sledge-hammer, or a +hydraulic engine. Which is highly surprising when you consider that +fourteen books is the true, and exact number of books as I possess." + +"Very remarkable!" said Bellew. + +"Then again,--there's my comrade,--Peter Day (The Sergeant pronounced it +as though it were all one word). Sir, my comrade Peterday is a very +remarkable man,--most cobblers are. When he's not cobbling, he's +reading,--when not reading, he's cobbling, or mending clocks, and +watches, and, betwixt this and that, my comrade has picked up a power of +information,--though he lost his leg a doing of it--in a gale of +wind--off the Cape of Good Hope, for my comrade was a sailor, sir. +Consequently he is a handy man, most sailors are and makes his own +wooden legs, sir, he is also a musician--the tin whistle, sir,--and +here we are!" + +Saying which, the Sergeant halted, wheeled, opened a very small gate, +and ushered Bellew into a very small garden bright with flowers, beyond +which was a very small cottage indeed, through the open door of which +there issued a most appetizing odour, accompanied by a whistle, +wonderfully clear, and sweet, that was rendering "Tom Bowling" with many +shakes, trills, and astonishing runs. + +Peterday was busied at the fire with a long toasting-fork in his hand, +but, on their entrance, breaking off his whistling in the very middle of +a note, he sprang nimbly to his feet, (or rather, his foot), and stood +revealed as a short, yet strongly built man, with a face that, in one +way, resembled an island in that it was completely surrounded by hair, +and whisker. But it was, in all respects, a vastly pleasant island to +behold, despite the somewhat craggy prominences of chin, and nose, and +brow. In other words, it was a pleasing face notwithstanding the fierce, +thick eye-brows which were more than offset by the merry blue eyes, and +the broad, humourous mouth below. + +"Peterday," said the Sergeant, "Mr. Bel-lew!" + +"Glad to see you sir," said the mariner, saluting the visitor with a +quick bob of the head, and a backward scrape of the wooden leg. "You +couldn't make port at a better time, sir,--and because why?--because the +kettle's a biling, sir, the muffins is piping hot, and the shrimps is +a-laying hove to, waiting to be took aboard, sir." Saying which, +Peterday bobbed his head again, shook his wooden leg again, and turned +away to reach another cup and saucer. + +It was a large room for so small a cottage, and comfortably furnished, +with a floor of red tile, and with a grate at one end well raised up +from the hearth. Upon the hob a kettle sang murmurously, and on a trivet +stood a plate whereon rose a tower of toasted muffins. A round table +occupied the middle of the floor and was spread with a snowy cloth +whereon cups and saucers were arranged, while in the midst stood a great +bowl of shrimps. + +Now above the mantel-piece, that is to say, to the left of it, and +fastened to the wall, was a length of rope cunningly tied into what is +called a "running bowline," above this, on a shelf specially contrived +to hold it, was the model of a full-rigged ship that was--to all +appearances--making excellent way of it, with every stitch of canvas set +and drawing, alow and aloft; above this again, was a sextant, and a +telescope. Opposite all these, upon the other side of the mantel, were a +pair of stirrups, three pairs of spurs, two cavalry sabres, and a +carbine, while between these objects, in the very middle of the chimney, +uniting, as it were, the Army, and the Navy, was a portrait of +Queen Victoria. + +Bellew also noticed that each side of the room partook of the same +characteristics, one being devoted to things nautical, the other to +objects military. All this Bellew noticed while the soldier was brewing +the tea, and the sailor was bestowing the last finishing touches to +the muffins. + +"It aren't often as we're honoured wi' company, sir," said Peterday, as +they sat down, "is it, Dick?" + +"No," answered the Sergeant, handing Bellew the shrimps. + +"We ain't had company to tea," said Peterday, passing Bellew the +muffins, "no, we ain't had company to tea since the last time Miss +Anthea, and Miss Priscilla honoured us, have we, Dick?" + +"Honoured us," said the Sergeant, nodding his head approvingly, "is the +one, and only word for it, Peterday." + +"And the last time was this day twelve months, sir,--because +why?--because this day twelve months 'appened to be Miss Priscilla's +birthday,--consequently to-day is her birthday, likewise,--wherefore the +muffins, and wherefore the shrimps, sir, for they was this day to have +once more graced our board, Mr. Bellew." + +"'Graced our board,'" said the Sergeant, nodding his head again, +"'graced our board,' is the only expression for it, Peterday. But they +disappointed us, Mr. Bellew, sir,--on account of the sale." + +"Messmate," said Peterday, with a note of concern in his voice, "how's +the wind?" + +"Tolerable, comrade, tolerable!" + +"Then--why forget the tea?" + +"Tea!" said the Sergeant with a guilty start, "why--so I am!--Mr. Bellew +sir,--your pardon!" and, forthwith he began to pour out the tea very +solemnly, but with less precision of movement than usual, and with +abstracted gaze. + +"The Sergeant tells me you are a musician," said Bellew, as Peterday +handed him another muffin. + +"A musician,--me! think o' that now! To be sure, I do toot on the tin +whistle now and then, sir, such things as 'The British Grenadiers,' and +the 'Girl I left behind me,' for my shipmate, and 'The Bay o' Biscay,' +and 'A Life on the Ocean Wave,' for myself,--but a musician, Lord! Ye +see, sir," said Peterday, taking advantage of the Sergeant's +abstraction, and whispering confidentially behind his muffin, "that +messmate o' mine has such a high opinion o' my gifts as is fair +over-powering, and a tin whistle is only a tin whistle, after all." + +"And it is about the only instrument I could ever get the hang of," said +Bellew. + +"Why--do you mean as you play, sir?" + +"Hardly that, but I make a good bluff at it." + +"Why then,--I've got a couple o' very good whistles,--if you're so +minded we might try a doo-et, sir, arter tea." + +"With pleasure!" nodded Bellew. But, hereupon, Peterday noticing that +the Sergeant ate nothing, leaned over and touched him upon the shoulder. + +"How's the wind, now, Shipmate?" he enquired. + +"Why so so, Peterday, fairish! fairish!" said the Sergeant, stirring his +tea round and round, and with his gaze fixed upon the opposite wall. + +"Then messmate,--why not a muffin, or even a occasional shrimp,--where +be your appetite?" + +"Peterday," said the Sergeant, beginning to stir his tea faster than +ever, and with his eyes still fixed, "consequent upon disparaging +remarks having been passed by one Grimes,--our landlord,--concerning +them as should not be mentioned in a inn parlour--or anywhere else--by +such as said Grimes,--I was compelled to pour--a tankard of beer--over +said Grimes, our landlord,--this arternoon, Peterday, at exactly--twelve +and a half minutes past six, by my watch,--which done,--I ran our +landlord--out into the road, Peterday, say--half a minute later, which +would make it precisely thirteen minutes after the hour. Consequent upon +which, comrade--we have received our marching orders." + +"What messmate, is it heave our anchor, you mean?" + +"I mean, comrade--that on Saturday next, being the twenty-fifth +instant,--we march out--bag and baggage--horse, foot, and artillery,--we +evacuate our position--in face of superior force,--for good and +all, comrade." + +"Is that so, shipmate?" + +"It's rough on you, Peterday--it's hard on you, I'll admit, but things +were said, comrade--relative to--business troubles of one as we both +respect, Peterday,--things was said as called for--beer down the +neck,--and running out into the road, comrade. But it's rough on you, +Peterday seeing as you--like the Hussars at Assuan--was never engaged, +so to speak." + +"Aye, aye, Shipmate, that does ketch me,--all aback, shipmate. Why Lord! +I'd give a pound,--two pound--ah, ten!--just to have been astarn of him +wi' a rope's end,--though--come to think of it I'd ha' preferred a +capstan-bar." + +"Peterday," said the Sergeant removing his gaze from the wall with a +jerk, "on the twenty-fifth instant we shall be--without a roof to cover +us, and--all my doing. Peterday--what have you to say about it?" + +"Say, messmate,--why that you and me, honouring, and respecting two +ladies as deserves to be honoured, and respected, ain't going to let +such a small thing as this here cottage come betwixt us, and our +honouring and respecting of them two ladies. If, therefore, we are due +to quit this anchorage, why then it's all hands to the windlass with a +heave yo ho, and merrily! say I. Messmate,--my fist!" Hereupon, with a +very jerky movement indeed, the Sergeant reached out his remaining arm, +and the soldier and the sailor shook hands very solemnly over the +muffins (already vastly diminished in number) with a grip that +spoke much. + +"Peterday,--you have lifted a load off my heart--I thank ye +comrade,--and spoke like a true soldier. Peterday--the muffins!" + +So now the Sergeant, himself once more, fell to in turn, and they ate, +and drank, and laughed, and talked, until the shrimps were all gone, and +the muffins were things of the past. + +And now, declining all Bellew's offers of assistance, the soldier and +the sailor began washing, and drying, and putting away their crockery, +each in his characteristic manner,--the Sergeant very careful and exact, +while the sailor juggled cups and saucers with the sure-handed deftness +that seems peculiar to nautical fingers. + +"Yes, Peterday," said the Sergeant, hanging each cup upon its appointed +nail, and setting each saucer solicitously in the space reserved for it +on the small dresser, "since you have took our marching orders as you +have took 'em, I am quite reconciled to parting with these here snug +quarters, barring only--a book-shelf, and a cup-board." + +"Cupboard!" returned Peterday with a snort of disdain, "why there never +was such a ill-contrived, lubberly cupboard as that, in all the world; +you can't get at it unless you lay over to port,--on account o' the +clothes-press, and then hard a starboard,--on account o' the +dresser,--and then it being in the darkest corner--" + +"True Peterday, but then I'm used to it, and use is everything as you +know,--I can lay my hand upon anything--in a minute--watch me!" Saying +which, the Sergeant squeezed himself between the press and the dresser, +opened the cupboard, and took thence several articles which he named, +each in order. + +"A pair o' jack-boots,--two brushes,--blacking,--and a burnisher." +Having set these down, one by one, upon the dresser, he wheeled, and +addressed himself to Bellew, as follows: + +"Mr. Bellew, sir,--this evening being the anniversary of a +certain--event, sir, I will ask you--to excuse me--while I make the +necessary preparations--to honour this anniversary--as is ever my +custom." As he ended, he dropped the two brushes, the blacking, and the +burnisher inside the legs of the boots, picked them up with a sweep of +the arm, and, turning short round, strode out into the little garden. + +"A fine fellow is Dick, sir!" nodded Peterday, beginning to fill a long +clay pipe, "Lord!--what a sailor he 'd ha' made, to be sure!--failing +which he's as fine a soldier as ever was, or will be, with enough +war-medals to fill my Sunday hat, sir. When he lost his arm they gave +him the V.C., and his discharge, sir,--because why--because a soldier +wi' one arm ain't any more good than a sailor wi' one leg, d'ye see. So +they tried to discharge Dick, but--Lord love you!--they couldn't, +sir,--because why?--because Dick were a soldier bred and born, and is as +much a soldier to-day, as ever he was,--ah! and always will be--until he +goes marching aloft,--like poor Tom Bowling,--until one as is General of +all the armies, and Admiral of all the fleets as ever sailed, shall call +the last muster roll, sir. At this present moment, sir," continued the +sailor, lighting his pipe with a live coal from the fire, "my messmate +is a-sitting to the leeward o' the plum tree outside, a polishing of his +jack-boots,--as don't need polishing, and a burnishing of his spurs,--as +don't need burnishing. And because why?--because he goes on guard, +to-night, according to custom." + +"On guard!" repeated Bellew, "I'm afraid I don't understand." + +"Of course you don't, sir," chuckled Peterday, "well then, to-night he +marches away--in full regimentals, sir,--to mount guard. And--where, do +you suppose?--why, I'll tell you,--under Miss Priscilla's window! He +gets there as the clock is striking eleven, and there he stays, a +marching to and fro, until twelve o'clock. Which does him a world o' +good, sir, and noways displeases Miss Priscilla,--because why?--because +she don't know nothing whatever about it." Hereupon, Peterday rose, and +crossing to a battered sea-man's chest in the corner, came back with +three or four tin whistles which he handed to Bellew, who laid aside his +pipe, and, having selected one, ran tentatively up and down the scale +while Peterday listened attentive of ear, and beaming of face. + +"Sir," said he, "what do you say to 'Annie Laurie' as a start--shall we +give 'em 'Annie Laurie'?--very good!--ready?--go!" + +Thus, George Bellew, American citizen, and millionaire, piped away on a +tin whistle with all the gusto in the world,--introducing little trills, +and flourishes, here and there, that fairly won the one-legged +sailor's heart. + +They had already "given 'em" three or four selections, each of which had +been vociferously encored by Peterday, or Bellew,--and had just finished +an impassioned rendering of the "Suwanee River," when the Sergeant +appeared with his boots beneath his arm. + +"Shipmate!" cried Peterday, flourishing his whistle, "did ye ever hear a +tin whistle better played, or mellerer in tone?" + +"Meller--is the only word for it, comrade,--and your playing sirs, +is--artistic--though doleful. P'raps you wouldn't mind giving us +something brighter--a rattling quick-step? P'raps you might remember one +as begins: + + 'Some talk of Alexander + And some, of Hercules;' + +if it wouldn't be troubling you too much?" + +Forthwith they burst forth into "The British Grenadiers?" and never did +tin whistles render the famous old tune with more fire, and dash. As the +stirring notes rang out, the Sergeant, standing upon the hearth, seemed +to grow taller, his broad chest expanded, his eyes glowed, a flush crept +up into his cheek, and the whole man thrilled to the music as he had +done, many a time and oft, in years gone by. As the last notes died +away, he glanced down at the empty sleeve pinned across his breast, +shook his head, and thanking them in a very gruff voice indeed, turned +on his heel, and busied himself at his little cupboard. Peterday now +rose, and set a jug together with three glasses upon the table, also +spoons, and a lemon, keeping his "weather-eye" meanwhile, upon the +kettle,--which last, condescending to boil obligingly, he rapped three +times with his wooden leg. + +"Right O, shipmate!" he cried, very much as though he had been hailing +the "main-top," whereupon the Sergeant emerged from between the +clothes-press and the dresser with a black bottle in his hand, which he +passed over to Peterday who set about brewing what he called a "jorum o' +grog," the savour of which filled the place with a right pleasant +fragrance. And, when the glasses brimmed, each with a slice of lemon +a-top,--the Sergeant solemnly rose. + +"Mr. Bellew, and comrade," said he, lifting his glass, "I give you--Miss +Priscilla!" + +"God bless her!" said Peterday. + +"Amen!" added Bellew. So the toast was drunk,--the glasses were emptied, +re-filled, and emptied again,--this time more slowly, and, the clock +striking nine, Bellew rose to take his leave. Seeing which, the Sergeant +fetched his hat and stick, and volunteered to accompany him a little +way. So when Bellew had shaken the sailor's honest hand, they set +out together. + +"Sergeant," said Bellew, after they had walked some distance, "I have a +message for you." + +"For me, sir?" + +"From Miss Priscilla." + +"From--indeed, sir!" + +"She bid me tell you that--the peaches are riper to-night than ever they +were." + +The Sergeant seemed to find in this a subject for profound thought, and +he strode on beside Bellew very silently, and with his eyes straight +before him. + +"'That the peaches were riper,--to-night,--than ever they were?'" said +he at last. + +"Yes, Sergeant." + +"Riper!" said the Sergeant, as though turning this over in his mind. + +"Riper than ever they were!" nodded Bellew. + +"The--peaches, I think, sir?" + +"The peaches, yes." Bellew heard the Sergeant's finger rasping to and +fro across his shaven chin. + +"Mr. Bellew, sir--she is a--very remarkable woman, sir!" + +"Yes, Sergeant!" + +"A--wonderful woman!" + +"Yes, Sergeant!" + +"The kind of woman that--improves with age, sir!" + +"Yes, Sergeant." + +"Talking of--peaches, sir, I've often thought--she is--very like a +peach--herself, sir." + +"Very, Sergeant, but--" + +"Well, sir?" + +"Peaches do--_not_ improve with age, Sergeant,--'and the peaches +are--riper than ever they were,--to-night!'" The Sergeant stopped short, +and stared at Bellew wide-eyed. + +"Why--sir," said he very slowly, "you don't mean to say you--think as +she--meant--that--?" + +"But I do!" nodded Bellew. And now, just as suddenly as he had stopped, +the Sergeant turned, and went on again. + +"Lord!" he whispered--"Lord! Lord!" + +The moon was rising, and looking at the Sergeant, Bellew saw that there +was a wonderful light in his face, yet a light that was not of the moon. + +"Sergeant," said Bellew, laying a hand upon his shoulder, "why don't you +speak to her?" + +"Speak to her,--what me! No, no, Mr. Bellew!" said the Sergeant, +hastily. "No, no,--can't be done, sir,--not to be mentioned, or thought +of, sir!" The light was all gone out of his face, now, and he walked +with his chin on his breast. + +"The surprising thing to me, Sergeant, is that you have never thought of +putting your fortune to the test, and--speaking your mind to her, +before now." + +"Thought of it, sir!" repeated the Sergeant, bitterly, "thought of +it!--Lord, sir! I've thought of it--these five years--and more. I've +thought of it--day and night. I've thought of it so very much that I +know--I never can--speak my mind to her. Look at me!" he cried suddenly, +wheeling and confronting Bellew, but not at all like his bold, erect, +soldierly self,--"Yes, look at me,--a poor, battered, old soldier--with +his--best arm gone,--left behind him in India, and with nothing in the +world but his old uniform,--getting very frayed and worn,--like himself, +sir,--a pair o' jack boots, likewise very much worn, though wonderfully +patched, here and there, by my good comrade, Peterday,--a handful of +medals, and a very modest pension. Look at me, with the best o' my days +behind me, and wi' only one arm left--and I'm a deal more awkward and +helpless with that one arm than you'd think, sir,--look at me, and then +tell me how could such a man dare to speak his mind to--such a woman. +What right has--such a man to even think of speaking his mind to--such a +woman, when there's part o' that man already in the grave? Why, no +right, sir,--none in the world. Poverty, and one arm, are facts as make +it impossible for that man to--ever speak his mind. And, sir--that +man--never will. Sir,--good night to you!--and a pleasant walk!--I turn +back here." + +Which the Sergeant did, then and there, wheeling sharp right about face; +yet, as Bellew watched him go, he noticed that the soldier's step was +heavy, and slow, and it seemed that, for once, the Sergeant had even +forgotten to put on his imaginary spurs. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +_In which Adam explains_ + +"Adam!" + +"Yes, Miss Anthea." + +"How much money did Mr. Bellew give you to--buy the furniture?" + +Miss Anthea was sitting in her great elbow chair, leaning forward with +her chin in her hand, looking at him in the way which always seemed to +Adam as though she could see into the verimost recesses of his mind. +Therefore Adam twisted his hat in his hands, and stared at the ceiling, +and the floor, and the table before Miss Anthea, and the wall behind +Miss Anthea--anywhere but at Miss Anthea. + +"You ax me--how much it were, Miss Anthea?" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"Well,--it were a goodish sum." + +"Was it--fifty pounds?" + +"Fifty pound!" repeated Adam, in a tone of lofty disdain, "no, Miss +Anthea, it were _not_ fifty pound." + +"Do you mean it was--more?" + +"Ah!" nodded Adam, "I mean as it were a sight more. If you was to take +the fifty pound you mention, add twenty more, and then another twenty to +that, and then come ten more to that,--why then--you'd be a bit nigher +the figure--" + +"A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Anthea, aghast. + +"Ah! a hundred pound!" nodded Adam, rolling the words upon his tongue +with great gusto,--"one--hundred--pound, were the sum, Miss Anthea." + +"Oh, Adam!" + +"Lord love you, Miss Anthea!--that weren't nothing,--that were only a +flea-bite, as you might say,--he give more--ah! nigh double as much as +that for the side-board." + +"Nonsense, Adam!" + +"It be gospel true, Miss Anthea. That there sideboard were the plum o' +the sale, so to speak, an' old Grimes had set 'is 'eart on it, d'ye see. +Well, it were bid up to eighty-six pound, an' then Old Grimes 'e goes +twenty more, making it a hundred an' six. Then--jest as I thought it +were all over, an' jest as that there Old Grimes were beginning to swell +hisself up wi' triumph, an' get that red in the face as 'e were a sight +to behold,--Mr. Belloo, who'd been lightin' 'is pipe all this time, up +and sez,--'Fifty up!' 'e sez in his quiet way, making it a hundred an' +fifty-six pound, Miss Anthea,--which were too much for Grimes,--Lord! I +thought as that there man were going to burst, Miss Anthea!" and Adam +gave vent to his great laugh at the mere recollection. But Anthea was +grave enough, and the troubled look in her eyes quickly sobered him. + +"A hundred and fifty-six pounds!" she repeated in an awed voice, "but +it--it is awful!" + +"Steepish!" admitted Adam, "pretty steepish for a old sideboard, I'll +allow, Miss Anthea,--but you see it were a personal matter betwixt +Grimes an' Mr. Belloo. I began to think as they never would ha' left off +biddin', an' by George!--I don't believe as Mr. Belloo ever would have +left off biddin'. Ye see, there's summat about Mr. Belloo,--whether it +be his voice, or his eye, or his chin,--I don't know,--but there be +summat about him as says, very distinct that if so be 'e should 'appen +to set 'is mind on a thing,--why 'e's a-going to get it, an' 'e ain't +a-going to give in till 'e do get it. Ye see, Miss Anthea, 'e's so very +quiet in 'is ways, an' speaks so soft, an' gentle,--p'raps that's it. +Say, for instance, 'e were to ax you for summat, an' you said +'No'--well, 'e wouldn't make no fuss about it,--not 'im,--he'd +jest--take it, that's what he'd do. As for that there sideboard he'd a +sat there a bidding and a bidding all night I do believe." + +"But, Adam, why did he do it! Why did he buy--all that furniture?" + +"Well,--to keep it from being took away, p'raps!" + +"Oh, Adam!--what am I to do?" + +"Do, Miss Anthea?" + +"The mortgage must be paid off--dreadfully soon--you know that, and--I +can't--Oh, I can't give the money back--" + +"Why--give it back!--No, a course not, Miss Anthea!" + +"But I--can't--keep it!" + +"Can't keep it, Miss Anthea mam,--an' why not?" + +"Because I'm very sure he doesn't want all those things,--the idea is +quite--absurd! And yet,--even if the hops do well, the money they bring +will hardly be enough by itself, and so--I was selling my furniture to +make it up, and--now--Oh! what am I to do?" and she leaned her head +wearily upon her hand. + +Now, seeing her distress, Adam all sturdy loyalty that he was, must +needs sigh in sympathy, and fell, once more, to twisting his hat until +he had fairly wrung it out of all semblance to its kind, twisting and +screwing it between his strong hands as though he would fain wring out +of it some solution to the problem that so perplexed his mistress. Then, +all at once, the frown vanished from his brow, his grip loosened upon +his unfortunate hat, and his eye brightened with a sudden gleam. + +"Miss Anthea," said he, drawing a step nearer, and lowering his voice +mysteriously, "supposing as I was to tell you that 'e did want that +furnitur',--ah! an' wanted it bad?" + +"Now how can he, Adam? It isn't as though he lived in England," said +Anthea, shaking her head, "his home is thousands of miles away,--he is +an American, and besides--" + +"Ah!--but then--even a American--may get married. Miss Anthea, mam!" +said Adam. + +"Married!" she repeated, glancing up very quickly, "Adam--what do you +mean?" + +"Why you must know," began Adam, wringing at his hat again, "ever since +the day I found him asleep in your hay, Miss Anthea, mam, Mr. Belloo has +been very kind, and--friendly like. Mr. Belloo an' me 'ave smoked a good +many sociable pipes together, an' when men smoke together, Miss Anthea, +they likewise talk together." + +"Yes?--Well?" said Anthea, rather breathlessly, and taking up a pencil +that happened to be lying near to hand. + +"And Mr. Belloo," continued Adam, heavily, "Mr. Belloo has done +me--the--the honour," here Adam paused to give an extra twist to his +hat,--"the--honour, Miss Anthea--" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"Of confiding to me 'is 'opes--" said Adam slowly, finding it much +harder to frame his well-meaning falsehood than he had supposed, +"his--H-O-P-E-S--'opes, Miss Anthea, of settling down very soon, an' of +marryin' a fine young lady as 'e 'as 'ad 'is eye on a goodish +time,--'aving knowed her from childhood's hour, Miss Anthea, and as +lives up to Lonnon--" + +"Yes--Adam!" + +"Consequently--'e bought all your furnitur' to set up 'ousekeepin', +don't ye see." + +"Yes,--I see, Adam!" Her voice was low, soft and gentle as ever, but the +pencil was tracing meaningless scrawls in her shaking fingers. + +"So you don't 'ave to be no-wise back-ard about keepin' the money, Miss +Anthea." + +"Oh no,--no, of course not, I--I understand, it was--just a--business +transaction." + +"Ah!--that's it,--a business transaction!" nodded Adam, "So you'll put +the money a one side to help pay off the mortgage, eh, Miss Anthea?" + +"Yes." + +"If the 'ops comes up to what they promise to come up to,--you'll be +able to get rid of Old Grimes--for good an' all, Miss Anthea." + +"Yes, Adam." + +"An' you be quite easy in your mind, now, Miss Anthea--about keepin' the +money?" + +"Quite!--Thank you, Adam--for--telling me. You can go now." + +"Why then--Good-night! Miss Anthea, mam,--the mortgage is as good as +paid,--there ain't no such 'ops nowhere near so good as our'n be. +An'--you're quite free o' care, an' 'appy 'earted, Miss Anthea?" + +"Quite--Oh quite, Adam!" + +But when Adam's heavy tread had died away,--when she was all alone, she +behaved rather strangely for one so free of care, and happy-hearted. +Something bright and glistening splashed upon the paper before her, the +pencil slipped from her fingers, and, with a sudden, choking cry, she +swayed forward, and hid her face in her hands. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +_In which Adam proposes a game_ + +"To be, or not to be!" Bellew leaned against the mighty bole of "King +Arthur," and stared up at the moon with knitted brows. "That is the +question!--whether I shall brave the slings, and arrows and things, +and--speak tonight, and have done with it--one way or another, or live +on, a while, secure in this uncertainty? To wait? Whether I shall, at +this so early stage, pit all my chances of happiness against the chances +of--losing her, and with her--Small Porges, bless him! and all the +quaint, and lovable beings of this wonderful Arcadia of mine. For, if +her answer be 'No,'--what recourse have I,--what is there left me but to +go wandering forth again, following the wind, and with the gates of +Arcadia shut upon me for ever? 'To be, or not to be,--that is the +question!'" + +"Be that you, Mr. Belloo, sir?" + +"Even so, Adam. Come sit ye a while, good knave, and gaze upon Dian's +loveliness, and smoke, and let us converse of dead kings." + +"Why, kings ain't much in my line, sir,--living or dead uns,--me never +'aving seen any--except a pic'ter,--and that tore, though very life +like. But why I were a lookin' for you was to ax you to back me up,--an' +to--play the game, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"Why--as to that, my good Adam,--my gentle Daphnis,--my rugged +Euphemio,--you may rely upon me to the uttermost. Are you in trouble? Is +it counsel you need, or only money? Fill your pipe, and, while you +smoke, confide your cares to me,--put me wise, or, as your French +cousins would say,--make me 'au fait.'" + +"Well," began Adam, when his pipe was well alight, "in the first place, +Mr. Belloo sir, I begs to remind you, as Miss Anthea sold her furnitur' +to raise enough money as with what the 'ops will bring, might go to pay +off the mortgage,--for good an' all, sir." + +"Yes." + +"Well, to-night, sir, Miss Anthea calls me into the parlour to ax,--or +as you might say,--en-quire as to the why, an' likewise the wherefore +of you a buyin' all that furnitur'." + +"Did she, Adam?" + +"Ah!--'why did 'e do it?' says she--'well, to keep it from bein' took +away, p'raps,' says I--sharp as any gimblet, sir." + +"Good!" nodded Bellew. + +"Ah!--but it weren't no good, sir," returned Adam, "because she sez as +'ow your 'ome being in America, you couldn't really need the +furnitur',--nor yet want the furnitur',--an' blest if she wasn't talkin' +of handing you the money back again." + +"Hum!" said Bellew. + +"Seeing which, sir, an' because she must have that money if she 'opes to +keep the roof of Dapplemere over 'er 'ead, I, there an' then, made +up,--or as you might say,--concocted a story, a anecdote, or a +yarn,--upon the spot, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"Most excellent Machiavelli!--proceed!" + +"I told her, sir, as you bought that furnitur' on account of you being +wishful to settle down,--whereat she starts, an' looks at me wi' her +eyes big, an' surprised-like. I told 'er, likewise, as you had told me +on the quiet,--or as you might say,--con-fi-dential, that you bought +that furnitur' to set up 'ouse-keeping on account o' you being on the +p'int o' marrying a fine young lady up to Lonnon,--" + +"What!" Bellew didn't move, nor did he raise his voice,--nevertheless +Adam started back, and instinctively threw up his arm. + +"You--told her--that?" + +"I did sir." + +"But you knew it was a--confounded lie." + +"Aye,--I knowed it. But I'd tell a hundred,--ah! thousands o' lies, +con-founded, or otherwise,--to save Miss Anthea." + +"To save her?" + +"From ruination, sir! From losing Dapplemere Farm, an' every thing she +has in the world. Lord love ye!--the 'ops can never bring in by +theirselves all the three thousand pounds as is owing,--it ain't to be +expected,--but if that three thousand pound ain't paid over to that +dirty Grimes by next Saturday week as ever was, that dirty Grimes turns +Miss Anthea out o' Dapplemere, wi' Master Georgy, an' poor little Miss +Priscilla,--An' what'll become o' them then,--I don't know. Lord! when I +think of it the 'Old Adam' do rise up in me to that extent as I'm minded +to take a pitch-fork and go and skewer that there Grimes to his own +chimbley corner. Ye see Mr. Belloo sir," he went on, seeing Bellew was +silent still, "Miss Anthea be that proud, an' independent that she'd +never ha' took your money, sir, if I hadn't told her that there lie,--so +that's why I did tell her that here lie." + +"I see," nodded Bellew, "I see!--yes,--you did quite right. You acted +for the best, and you--did quite right, Adam,--yes, quite right" + +"Thankee sir!" + +"And so--this is the game I am to play, is it?" + +"That's it, sir; if she ax's you,--'are you goin' to get +married?'--you'll tell her 'yes,--to a lady as you've knowed from your +childhood's hour,--living in Lonnon,'--that's all, sir." + +"That's all is it, Adam!" said Bellew slowly, turning to look up at the +moon again. "It doesn't sound very much, does it? Well, I'll play your +game,--Adam,--yes, you may depend upon me." + +"Thankee, Mr. Belloo sir,--thankee sir!--though I do 'ope as you'll +excuse me for taking such liberties, an' making so free wi' your 'eart, +and your affections, sir?" + +"Oh certainly, Adam!--the cause excuses--everything." + +"Then, good-night, sir!" + +"Good-night, Adam!" + +So this good, well-meaning Adam strode away, proud on the whole of his +night's work, leaving Bellew to frown up at the moon with teeth clenched +tight upon his pipe-stem. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +_How Bellew began the game_ + +Now in this life of ours, there be games of many, and divers, sorts, and +all are calculated to try the nerve, courage, or skill of the player, as +the case may be. Bellew had played many kinds of games in his day, and, +among others, had once been famous as a Eight Tackle on the Harvard +Eleven. Upon him he yet bore certain scars received upon a memorable day +when Yale, flushed with success, saw their hitherto invincible line rent +and burst asunder, saw a figure torn, bruised, and bleeding, flash out +and away down the field to turn defeat into victory, and then to be +borne off honourably to hospital, and bed. + +If Bellew thought of this, by any chance, as he sat there, staring up at +the moon, it is very sure that, had the choice been given him, he would +joyfully have chosen the game of torn flesh, and broken bones, or any +other game, no matter how desperate, rather than this particular game +that Adam had invented, and thrust upon him. + +Presently Bellew knocked the ashes from his pipe, and rising, walked on +slowly toward the house. As he approached, he heard someone playing the +piano, and the music accorded well with his mood, or his mood with the +music, for it was haunting, and very sweet, and with a recurring melody +in a minor key, that seemed to voice all the sorrow of Humanity, past, +present, and to come. + +Drawn by the music, he crossed the Rose Garden, and reaching the +terrace, paused there; for the long French windows were open, and, from +where he stood, he could see Anthea seated at the piano. She was dressed +in a white gown of some soft, clinging material, and among the heavy +braids of her hair was a single great, red rose. And, as he watched, he +thought she had never looked more beautiful than now, with the soft glow +of the candles upon her; for her face reflected the tender sadness of +the music, it was in the mournful droop of her scarlet lips, and the +sombre depths of her eyes. Close beside her sat little Miss Priscilla +busy with her needle as usual, but now she paused, and lifting her head +in her quick, bird-like way, looked up at Anthea, long, and fixedly. + +"Anthea my dear," said she suddenly, "I'm fond of music, and I love to +hear you play, as you know,--but I never heard you play quite +so--dolefully? dear me, no,--that's not the right word,--nor +dismal,--but I mean something between the two." + +"I thought you were fond of Grieg, Aunt Priscilla." + +"So I am, but then, even in his gayest moments, poor Mr. Grieg was +always breaking his heart over something, or other. And-- +Gracious!--there's Mr. Bellew at the window. Pray come in, Mr. Bellew, +and tell us how you liked Peterday, and the muffins?" + +"Thank you!" said Bellew, stepping in through the long French window, +"but I should like to hear Miss Anthea play again, first, if she will?" + +But Anthea, who had already risen from the piano, shook her head: + +"I only play when I feel like it,--to please myself,--and Aunt +Priscilla," said she, crossing to the broad, low window-seat, and +leaning out into the fragrant night. + +"Why then," said Bellew, sinking into the easy-chair that Miss Priscilla +indicated with a little stab of her needle, "why then the muffins were +delicious, Aunt Priscilla, and Peterday was just exactly what a +one-legged mariner ought to be." + +"And the shrimps, Mr. Bellew?" enquired Miss Priscilla, busy at her +sewing again. + +"Out-shrimped all other shrimps so ever!" he answered, glancing to where +Anthea sat with her chin propped in her hand, gazing up at the waning +moon, seemingly quite oblivious of him. + +"And did--_He_--pour out the tea?" enquired Miss Priscilla, "from the +china pot with the blue flowers and the Chinese Mandarin fanning +himself,--and very awkward, of course, with his one hand,--I don't mean +the Mandarin, Mr. Bellew,--and very full of apologies?" + +"He did." + +"Just as usual; yes he always does,--and every year he gives me three +lumps of sugar,--and I only take one, you know. It's a pity," sighed +Miss Priscilla, "that it was his right arm,--a great pity!" And here she +sighed again, and, catching herself, glanced up quickly at Bellew, and +smiled to see how completely absorbed he was in contemplation of the +silent figure in the window-seat. "But, after all, better a right +arm--than a leg," she pursued,--"at least, I think so!" + +"Certainly!" murmured Bellew. + +"A man with only one leg, you see, would be almost as helpless as +an--old woman with a crippled foot,--" + +"Who grows younger, and brighter, every year!" added Bellew, turning to +her with his pleasant smile, "yes, and I think,--prettier!" + +"Oh, Mr. Bellew!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla shaking her head at him +reprovingly, yet looking pleased, none the less,--"how can you be so +ridiculous,--Good gracious me!" + +"Why, it was the Sergeant who put it into my head,--" + +"The Sergeant?" + +"Yes,--it was after I had given him your message about peaches, Aunt +Priscilla and--" + +"Oh dear heart!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, at this juncture, "Prudence +is out, to-night, and I promised to bake the bread for her, and here I +sit chatting, and gossipping while that bread goes rising, and rising +all over the kitchen!" And Miss Priscilla laid aside her sewing, and +catching up her stick, hurried to the door. + +"And I was almost forgetting to wish you 'many happy returns of the day, +Aunt Priscilla!'" said Bellew, rising. + +At this familiar appellation, Anthea turned sharply, in time to see him +stoop, and kiss Miss Priscilla's small, white hand; whereupon Anthea +must needs curl her lip at his broad back. Then he opened the door, and +Miss Priscilla tapped away, even more quickly than usual. + +Anthea was half-sitting, half-kneeling among the cushions in the corner +of the deep window, apparently still lost in contemplation of the moon. +So much so, that she did not stir, or even lower her up-ward gaze, when +Bellew came, and stood beside her. + +Therefore, taking advantage of the fixity of her regard, he, once more, +became absorbed in her loveliness. Surely a most unwise proceeding--in +Arcadia, by the light of a midsummer moon! And he mentally contrasted +the dark, proud beauty of her face, with that of all the women he had +ever known,--to their utter, and complete disparagement. + +"Well?" enquired Anthea, at last, perfectly conscious of his look, and +finding the silence growing irksome, yet still with her eyes +averted,--"Well, Mr. Bellew?" + +"On the contrary," he answered, "the moon is on the wane!" + +"The moon!" she repeated, "Suppose it is,--what then?" + +"True happiness can only come riding astride the full moon you +know,--you remember old Nannie told us so." + +"And you--believed it?" she enquired scornfully. + +"Why, of course!" he answered in his quiet way. + +Anthea didn't speak but, once again, the curl of her lip was eloquent. + +"And so," he went on, quite unabashed, "when I behold Happiness riding +astride the full moon, I shall just reach up, in the most natural manner +in the world, and--take it down, that it may abide with me, world +without end." + +"Do you think you will be tall enough?" + +"We shall see,--when the time comes." + +"I think it's all very ridiculous!" said Anthea. + +"Why then--suppose you play for me, that same, plaintive piece you were +playing as I came in,--something of Grieg's I think it was,--will you, +Miss Anthea?" + +She was on the point of refusing, then, as if moved by some capricious +whim, she crossed to the piano, and dashed into the riotous music of a +Polish Dance. As the wild notes leapt beneath her quick, brown fingers, +Bellew, seated near-by, kept his eyes upon the great, red rose in her +hair, that nodded slyly at him with her every movement. And surely, in +all the world, there had never bloomed a more tantalizing, more wantonly +provoking rose than this! Wherefore Bellew, very wisely, turned his eyes +from its glowing temptation. Doubtless observing which, the rose, in +evident desperation, nodded, and swayed, until, it had fairly nodded +itself from its sweet resting-place, and, falling to the floor, lay +within Bellew's reach. Whereupon, he promptly stooped, and picked it up, +and,--even as, with a last, crashing chord, Anthea ceased playing, and +turned, in that same moment he dropped it deftly into his coat pocket. + +"Oh! by the way, Mr. Bellew," she said, speaking as if the idea had but +just entered her mind, "what do you intend to do about--all your +furniture?" + +"Do about it?" he repeated, settling the rose carefully in a corner of +his pocket where it would not be crushed by his pipe. + +"I mean--where would you like it--stored until you can send, and have +it--taken away?" + +"Well,--I--er--rather thought of keeping it--where it was if you didn't +mind." + +"I'm afraid that will be--impossible, Mr. Bellew." + +"Why then the barn will be an excellent place for it, I don't suppose +the rats and mice will do it any real harm, and as for the damp, and +the dust--" + +"Oh! you know what I mean!" exclaimed Anthea, beginning to tap the floor +impatiently with her foot. "Of course we can't go on using the things +now that they are your property, it--wouldn't be--right." + +"Very well," he nodded, his fingers questing anxiously after the rose +again, "I'll get Adam to help me to shift it all into the barn, +to-morrow morning." + +"Will you please be serious, Mr. Bellew!" + +"As an owl!" he nodded. + +"Why then--of course you will be leaving Dapplemere soon, and I should +like to know exactly when, so that I can--make the necessary +arrangements." + +"But you see, I am not leaving Dapplemere soon or even thinking of it." + +"Not?" she repeated, glancing up at him in swift surprise. + +"Not until--you bid me." + +"I?" + +"You!" + +"But I--I understood that you--intend to--settle down?" + +"Certainly!" nodded Bellew, transferring his pipe to another pocket +altogether, lest it should damage the rose's tender petals. "To settle +down has lately become the--er--ambition of my life." + +"Then pray," said Anthea, taking up a sheet of music, and beginning to +study it with attentive eyes, "be so good as to tell me--what you mean." + +"That necessarily brings us back to the moon again," answered Bellew. + +"The moon?" + +"The moon!" + +"But what in the world has the moon to do with your furniture?" she +demanded, her foot beginning to tap again. + +"Everything!--I bought that furniture with--er--with one eye on the +moon, as it were,--consequently the furniture, the moon, and I, are +bound indissolubly together." + +"You are pleased to talk in riddles, to-night, and really, Mr. Bellew, I +have no time to waste over them, so, if you will excuse me--" + +"Thank you for playing to me," he said, as he held the door open for +her. + +"I played because I--I felt like it, Mr. Bellew." + +"Nevertheless, I thank you." + +"When you make up your mind about--the furniture,--please let me know." + +"When the moon is at the full, yes." + +"Can it be possible that you are still harping on the wild words of poor +old Nannie?" she exclaimed, and once more, she curled her lip at him. + +"Nannie is very old, I'll admit," he nodded, "but surely you remember +that we proved her right in one particular,--I mean about the Tiger +Mark, you know." + +Now, when he said this, for no apparent reason, the eyes that had +hitherto been looking into his, proud and scornful,--wavered, and were +hidden under their long, thick lashes; the colour flamed in her cheeks, +and, without another word, she was gone. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +_How the Sergeant went upon his guard_ + +The Arcadians, one and all, generally follow that excellent maxim which +runs: + +"Early to bed, and early to rise Makes a man healthy, and wealthy, and +wise." + +Healthy they are, beyond a doubt, and, in their quaint, simple fashion, +profoundly wise. If they are not extraordinarily wealthy, yet are they +generally blessed with contented minds which, after all, is better than +money, and far more to be desired than fine gold. + +Now whether their general health, happiness, and wisdom is to be +attributed altogether to their early to bed proclivities, is perhaps a +moot question. Howbeit, to-night, long after these weary Arcadians had +forgotten their various cares, and troubles in the blessed oblivion of +sleep, (for even Arcadia has its troubles) Bellew sat beneath the shade +of "King Arthur" alone with his thoughts. + +Presently, however, he was surprised to hear the house-door open, and +close very softly, and to behold--not the object of his meditations, but +Miss Priscilla coming towards him. + +As she caught sight of him in the shadow of the tree, she stopped and +stood leaning upon her stick as though she were rather disconcerted. + +"Aunt Priscilla!" said he, rising. + +"Oh!--it's you?" she exclaimed, just as though she hadn't known it all +along. "Dear me! Mr. Bellew,--how lonely you look, and dreadfully +thoughtful,--good gracious!" and she glanced up at him with her quick, +girlish smile. "I suppose you are wondering what I am doing out here at +this unhallowed time of night--it must be nearly eleven o'clock. Oh dear +me!--yes you are!--Well, sit down, and I'll tell you. Let us sit +here,--in the darkest corner,--there. Dear heart!--how bright the moon +is to be sure." So saying, Miss Priscilla ensconced herself at the very +end of the rustic bench, where the deepest shadow lay. + +"Well, Mr. Bellew," she began, "as you know, to-day is my birthday. As +to my age, I am--let us say,--just turned twenty-one and, being young, +and foolish, Mr. Bellew, I have come out here to watch another very +foolish person,--a ridiculous, old Sergeant of Hussars, who will come +marching along, very soon, to mount guard in full regimentals, Mr. +Bellew,--with his busby on his head, with his braided tunic and dolman, +and his great big boots, and with his spurs jingling, and his sabre +bright under the moon." + +"So then--you know he comes?" + +"Why of course I do. And I love to hear the jingle of his spurs, and to +watch the glitter of his sabre. So, every year, I come here, and sit +among the shadows, where he can't see me, and watch him go march, march, +marching up and down, and to and fro, until the clock strikes twelve, +and he goes marching home again. Oh dear me!--it's all very foolish, of +course,--but I love to hear the jingle of his spurs." + +"And--have you sat here watching him, every year?" + +"Every year!" + +"And he has never guessed you were watching him?" + +"Good gracious me!--of course not." + +"Don't you think, Aunt Priscilla, that you are--just a little--cruel?" + +"Cruel--why--what do you mean?" + +"I gave him your message, Aunt Priscilla." + +"What message?" + +"That 'to-night, the peaches were riper than ever they were.'" + +"Oh!" said Miss Priscilla, and waited expectantly for Bellew to +continue. But, as he was silent she glanced at him, and seeing him +staring at the moon, she looked at it, also. And after she had gazed for +perhaps half a minute, as Bellew was still silent, she spoke, though in +a very small voice indeed. + +"And--what did--he say?" + +"Who?" enquired Bellew. + +"Why the--the Sergeant, to be sure." + +"Well, he gave me to understand that a poor, old soldier with only one +arm left him, must be content to stand aside, always and--hold his +peace, just because he was a poor, maimed, old soldier. Don't you think +that you have been--just a little cruel--all these years, Aunt +Priscilla?" + +"Sometimes--one is cruel--only to be--kind!" she answered. + +"Aren't the peaches ripe enough, after all, Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Over-ripe!" she said bitterly, "Oh--they are over-ripe!" + +"Is that all, Aunt Priscilla?" + +"No," she answered, "no, there's--this!" and she held up her little +crutch stick. + +"Is that all, Aunt Priscilla?" + +"Oh!--isn't--that enough?" Bellew rose. "Where are you going--What are +you going to do?" she demanded. + +"Wait!" said he, smiling down at her perplexity, and so he turned, and +crossed to a certain corner of the orchard. When he came back he held +out a great, glowing peach towards her. + +"You were quite right," he nodded, "it was so ripe that it fell at a +touch." + +But, as he spoke, she drew him down beside her in the shadow: + +"Hush!" she whispered, "Listen!" + +Now as they sat there, very silent,--faint and far-away upon the still +night air, they heard a sound; a silvery, rhythmic sound, it was,--like +the musical clash of fairy cymbals which drew rapidly nearer, and +nearer; and Bellew felt that Miss Priscilla's hand was trembling upon +his arm as she leaned forward, listening with a smile upon her parted +lips, and a light in her eyes that was ineffably tender. + +Nearer came the sound, and nearer, until, presently, now in moonlight, +now in shadow, there strode a tall, martial figure in all the glory of +braided tunic, and furred dolman, the three chevrons upon his sleeve, +and many shining medals upon his breast,--a stalwart, soldierly figure, +despite the one empty sleeve, who moved with the long, swinging stride +that only the cavalry-man can possess. Being come beneath a certain +latticed window, the Sergeant halted, and, next moment, his glittering +sabre flashed up to the salute; then, with it upon his shoulder, he +wheeled, and began to march up and down, his spurs jingling, his sabre +gleaming, his dolman swinging, his sabre glittering, each time he +wheeled; while Miss Priscilla leaning forward, watched him wide-eyed, +and with hands tight clasped. Then, all at once,--with a little +fluttering sigh she rose. + +Thus, the Sergeant as he marched to and fro, was suddenly aware of one +who stood in the full radiance of the moon,--and with one hand +outstretched towards him. And now, as he paused, disbelieving his very +eyes, he saw that in her extended hand she held a great ripe peach. + +"Sergeant!" she said, speaking almost in a whisper, "Oh Sergeant--won't +you--take it?" + +The heavy sabre thudded down into the grass, and he took a sudden step +towards her. But, even now, he hesitated, until, coming nearer yet, he +could look down into her eyes. + +Then he spoke, and his voice was very hoarse, and uneven: + +"Miss Priscilla?" he said, "Priscilla?--Oh, Priscilla!" And, with the +word, he had fallen on his knees at her feet, and his strong, solitary +arm was folded close about her. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +_In which Porges Big, and Porges Small discuss the subject of Matrimony_ + +"What is it, my Porges?" + +"Well,--I'm a bit worried, you know." + +"Worried?" + +"Yes,--'fraid I shall be an old man before my time, Uncle Porges. Adam +says it's worry that ages a man,--an' it killed a cat too!" + +"And why do you worry?" + +"Oh, it's my Auntie Anthea, a course!--she was crying again last +night--" + +"Crying!" Bellew had been lying flat upon his back in the fragrant +shadow of the hay-rick, but now he sat up--very suddenly, so suddenly +that Small Porges started. "Crying!" he repeated, "last night! Are +you sure?" + +"Oh yes! You see, she forgot to come an' 'tuck me up' last night, so I +creeped downstairs,--very quietly, you know, to see why. An' I found her +bending over the table, all sobbing, an' crying. At first she tried to +pretend that she wasn't, but I saw the tears quite plain,--her cheeks +were all wet, you know; an' when I put my arms round her--to comfort her +a bit, an' asked her what was the matter, she only kissed me a lot, an' +said 'nothing! nothing,--only a headache!'" + +"And why was she crying, do you suppose, my Porges?" + +"Oh!--money, a course!" he sighed. + +"What makes you think it was money?" + +"'Cause she'd been talking to Adam,--I heard him say 'Good-night,' as I +creeped down the stairs,--" + +"Ah?" said Bellew, staring straight before him. His beloved pipe had +slipped from his fingers, and, for a wonder, lay all neglected. "It was +after she had talked with Adam, was it, my Porges?" + +"Yes,--that's why I knew it was 'bout money; Adam's always talking 'bout +morgyges, an' bills, an' money. Oh Uncle Porges, how I do--hate money!" + +"It is sometimes a confounded nuisance!" nodded Bellew. + +"But I do wish we had some,--so we could pay all her bills, an' morgyges +for her. She'd be so happy, you know, an' go about singing like she used +to,--an' I shouldn't worry myself into an old man before my time,--all +wrinkled, an' gray, you know; an' all would be revelry, an' joy, if only +she had enough gold, an' bank-notes!" + +"And she was--crying, you say!" demanded Bellew again, his gaze still +far away. + +"Yes." + +"You are quite sure you saw the--tears, my Porges?" + +"Oh yes! an' there was one on her nose, too,--a big one, that shone +awful' bright,--twinkled, you know." + +"And she said it was only a headache, did she?" + +"Yes, but that meant money,--money always makes her head ache, lately. +Oh Uncle Porges!--I s'pose people do find fortunes, sometimes, +don't they?" + +"Why yes, to be sure they do." + +"Then I wish I knew where they looked for them," said he with a very big +sigh indeed, "I've hunted an' hunted in all the attics, an' the +cupboards, an' under hedges, an' in ditches, an' prayed, an' prayed, you +know,--every night." + +"Then, of course, you'll be answered, my Porges." + +"Do you really s'pose I shall be answered? You see it's such an awful' +long way for one small prayer to have to go,--from here to heaven. An' +there's clouds that get in the way; an' I'm 'fraid my prayers aren't +quite big, or heavy enough, an' get lost, an' blown away in the wind." + +"No, my Porges," said Bellew, drawing his arm about the small +disconsolate figure, "you may depend upon it that your prayers fly +straight up into heaven, and that neither the clouds, nor the wind can +come between, or blow them away. So just keep on praying, old chap, and +when the time is ripe, they'll be answered, never fear." + +"Answered?--Do you mean,--oh Uncle Porges!--do you mean--the Money +Moon?" The small hand upon Bellew's arm, quivered, and his voice +trembled with eagerness. + +"Why yes, to be sure,--the Money Moon, my Porges,--it's bound to come, +one of these fine nights." + +"Ah!--but when,--oh! when will the Money Moon ever come?" + +"Well, I can't be quite sure, but I rather fancy, from the look of +things, my Porges, that it will be pretty soon." + +"Oh, I do hope so!--for her sake, an' my sake. You see, she may go +getting herself married to Mr. Cassilis, if something doesn't happen +soon, an' I shouldn't like that, you know." + +"Neither should I, my Porges. But what makes you think so?" + +"Why he's always bothering her, an' asking her to, you see. She always +says 'No' a course, but--one of these fine days, I'm 'fraid she'll say +'Yes'--accidentally, you know." + +"Heaven forbid, nephew!" + +"Does that mean you hope not?" + +"Indeed yes." + +"Then I say heaven forbid, too,--'cause I don't think she'd ever be +happy in Mr. Cassilis's great, big house. An' I shouldn't either." + +"Why, of course not!" + +"_You_ never go about asking people to marry you, do you Uncle Porges!" + +"Well, it could hardly be called a confirmed habit of mine." + +"That's one of the things I like about you so,--all the time you've been +here you haven't asked my Auntie Anthea once, have you?" + +"No, my Porges,--not yet." + +"Oh!--but you don't mean that you--ever will?" + +"Would you be very grieved, and angry, if I did,--some day soon, my +Porges?" + +"Well, I--I didn't think you were that kind of a man!" answered Small +Porges, sighing and shaking his head regretfully. + +"I'm afraid I am, nephew." + +"Do you really mean that you want to--marry my Auntie Anthea?" + +"I do." + +"As much as Mr. Cassilis does?" + +"A great deal more, I think." + +Small Porges sighed again, and shook his head very gravely indeed: + +"Uncle Porges," said he, "I'm--s'prised at you!" + +"I rather feared you would be, nephew." + +"It's all so awful' silly, you know!--why do you want to marry her?" + +"Because, like a Prince in a fairy tale, I'm--er--rather anxious +to--live happy ever after." + +"Oh!" said Small Porges, turning this over in his mind, "I never thought +of that." + +"Marriage is a very important institution, you see, my +Porges,--especially in this case, because I can't possibly live happy +ever after, unless I marry--first--now can I?" + +"No, I s'pose not!" Small Porges admitted, albeit reluctantly, after he +had pondered the matter a while with wrinkled brow, "but why pick +out--my Auntie Anthea?" + +"Just because she happens to be your Auntie Anthea, of course." + +Small Porges sighed again: + +"Why then, if she's got to be married some day, so she can live happy +ever after,--well,--I s'pose you'd better take her, Uncle Porges." + +"Thank you, old chap,--I mean to." + +"I'd rather you took her than Mr. Cassilis, an'--why there he is!" + +"Who?" + +"Mr. Cassilis. An' he's stopped, an' he's twisting his mestache." + +Mr. Cassilis, who had been crossing the paddock, had indeed stopped, +and was twisting his black moustache, as if he were hesitating between +two courses. Finally, he pushed open the gate, and, approaching Bellew, +saluted him with that supercilious air which Miss Priscilla always +declared she found so "trying." + +"Ah, Mr. Bellew! what might it be this morning,--the pitchfork--the +scythe, or the plough?" he enquired. + +"Neither, sir,--this morning it is--matrimony!" + +"Eh!--I beg your pardon,--matrimony?" + +"With a large M, sir," nodded Bellew, "marriage, sir,--wedlock; my +nephew and I are discussing it in its aspects philosophical, +sociological, and--" + +"That is surely rather a--peculiar subject to discuss with a child, Mr. +Bellew--" + +"Meaning my nephew, sir?" + +"I mean--young George, there." + +"Precisely,--my nephew, Small Porges." + +"I refer," said Mr. Cassilis, with slow, and crushing emphasis, "to Miss +Devine's nephew--" + +"And mine, Mr. Cassilis,--mine by--er--mutual adoption, and +inclination." + +"And I repeat that your choice of subjects is--peculiar, to say the +least of it." + +"But then, mine is rather a peculiar nephew, sir. But, surely it was not +to discuss nephews,--mine or anyone else's, that you are hither come, +and our ears do wait upon you,--pray be seated, sir." + +"Thank you, I prefer to stand." + +"Strange!" murmured Bellew, shaking his head, "I never stand if I can +sit, or sit if I can lie down." + +"I should like you to define, exactly, your position--here at +Dapplemere, Mr. Bellew." + +Bellew's sleepy glance missed nothing of the other's challenging +attitude, and his ear, nothing of Mr. Cassilis's authoritative tone, +therefore his smile was most engaging as he answered: + +"My position here, sir, is truly the most--er--enviable in the world. +Prudence is an admirable cook,--particularly as regard Yorkshire +Pudding; gentle, little Miss Priscilla is the most--er Aunt-like, and +perfect of housekeepers; and Miss Anthea is our sovereign lady, before +whose radiant beauty, Small Porges and I like true knights, and gallant +gentles, do constant homage, and in whose behalf Small Porges and I do +stand prepared to wage stern battle, by day, or by night." + +"Indeed!" said Mr. Cassilis, and his smile was even more supercilious +than usual. + +"Yes, sir," nodded Bellew, "I do confess me a most fortunate, and happy, +wight who, having wandered hither and yon upon this planet of ours, +which is so vast, and so very small,--has, by the most happy chance, +found his way hither into Arcady." + +"And--may I enquire how long you intend to lead this Arcadian +existence?" + +"I fear I cannot answer that question until the full o' the moon, +sir,--at present, I grieve to say,--I do not know." + +Mr. Cassilis struck his riding-boot a sudden smart rap with his whip; +his eyes snapped, and his nostrils dilated, as he glanced down into +Bellew's imperturbable face. + +"At least you know, and will perhaps explain, what prompted you to buy +all that furniture? You were the only buyer at the sale I understand." + +"Who--bought anything, yes," nodded Bellew. + +"And pray--what was your object,--you--a stranger?" + +"Well," replied Bellew slowly, as he began to fill his pipe, "I bought +it because it was there to buy, you know; I bought it because furniture +is apt to be rather useful, now and then,--I acquired the chairs +to--er--sit in, the tables to--er--put things on, and--" + +"Don't quibble with me, Mr. Bellew!" + +"I beg your pardon, Mr. Cassilis!" + +"When I ask a question, sir, I am in the habit of receiving a direct +reply,--" + +"And when I am asked a question, Mr. Cassilis, I am in the habit of +answering it precisely as I please,--or not at all." + +"Mr. Bellew, let me impress upon you, once and for all, that Miss Devine +has friends,--old and tried friends, to whom she can always turn for aid +in any financial difficulty she may have to encounter,--friends who can +more than tide over all her difficulties without the--interference of +strangers; and, as one of her oldest friends, I demand to know by what +right you force your wholly unnecessary assistance upon her?" + +"My very good sir," returned Bellew, shaking his head in gentle reproof, +"really, you seem to forget that you are not addressing one of your +grooms, or footmen,--consequently you force me to remind you of the +fact; furthermore,--" + +"That is no answer!" said Mr. Cassilis, his gloved hands tight-clenched +upon his hunting-crop,--his whole attitude one of menace. + +"Furthermore," pursued Bellew placidly, settling the tobacco in his pipe +with his thumb, "you can continue to--er demand, until all's blue, and I +shall continue to lie here, and smoke, and gaze up at the smiling +serenity of heaven." + +The black brows of Mr. Cassilis met in a sudden frown, he tossed his +whip aside, and took a sudden quick stride towards the recumbent Bellew +with so evident an intention, that Small Porges shrank instinctively +further within the encircling arm. + +But, at that psychic moment, very fortunately for all concerned, there +came the sound of a quick, light step, and Anthea stood between them. + +"Mr. Cassilis!--Mr. Bellew!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed, and her +bosom heaving with the haste she had made, "pray whatever does +this mean?" + +Bellew rose to his feet, and seeing Cassilis was silent, shook his head +and smiled: + +"Upon my word, I hardly know, Miss Anthea. Our friend Mr. Cassilis seems +to have got himself all worked up over the--er--sale, I fancy--" + +"The furniture!" exclaimed Anthea, and stamped her foot with vexation. +"That wretched furniture! Of course you explained your object in buying +it, Mr. Bellew?" + +"Well, no,--we hadn't got as far as that." + +Now when he said this, Anthea's eyes flashed sudden scorn at him, and +she curled her lip at him, and turned her back upon him: + +"Mr. Bellew bought my furniture because he intends to set up +house-keeping--he is to be married--soon, I believe." + +"When the moon is at the full!" nodded Bellew. + +"Married!" exclaimed Mr. Cassilis, his frown vanishing as if by magic. +"Oh, indeed--" + +"I am on my way to the hop-gardens, if you care to walk with me, Mr. +Cassilis?" and, with the words, Anthea turned, and, as he watched them +walk away, together,--Bellew noticed upon the face of Mr. Cassilis an +expression very like triumph, and, in his general air, a suggestion of +proprietorship that jarred upon him most unpleasantly. + +"Why do you frown so, Uncle Porges?" + +"I--er--was thinking, nephew." + +"Well, I'm thinking, too!" nodded Small Porges, his brows knitted +portentously. And thus they sat, Big, and Little Porges, frowning in +unison at space for quite a while. + +"Are you quite sure you never told my Auntie Anthea that you were going +to marry her?" enquired Small Porges, at last. + +"Quite sure, comrade,--why?" + +"Then how did she know you were going to marry her, an' settle down?" + +"Marry--her, and settle down?" + +"Yes,--at the full o' the moon, you know." + +"Why really--I don't know, my Porges,--unless she guessed it." + +"I specks she did,--she's awful' clever at guessing things! But, do you +know--" + +"Well?" + +"I'm thinking I don't just like the way she smiled at Mr. Cassilis, I +never saw her look at him like that before,--as if she were awful' glad +to see him, you know; so I don't think I'd wait till the full o' the +moon, if I were you. I think you'd better marry her--this afternoon." + +"That," said Bellew, clapping him on the shoulder, "is a very admirable +idea,--I'll mention it to her on the first available opportunity, +my Porges." + +But the opportunity did not come that day, nor the next, nor the next +after that, for it seemed that with the approach of the "Hop-picking" +Anthea had no thought, or time, for anything else. + +Wherefore Bellew smoked many pipes, and, as the days wore on, possessed +his soul in patience, which is a most excellent precept to follow--in +all things but love. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +_Which relates a most extraordinary conversation_ + +In the days which now ensued, while Anthea was busied out of doors and +Miss Priscilla was busied indoors, and Small Porges was diligently +occupied with his lessons,--at such times, Bellew would take his pipe +and go to sit and smoke in company with the Cavalier in the great +picture above the carved chimney-piece. + +A right jovial companion, at all times, was this Cavalier, an optimist +he, from the curling feather in his broad-brimmed beaver hat, to the +spurs at his heels. Handsome, gay, and debonair was he, with lips +up-curving to a smile beneath his moustachio, and a quizzical light in +his grey eyes, very like that in Bellew's own. Moreover he wore the +knowing, waggish air of one well versed in all the ways of the world, +and mankind in general, and, (what is infinitely more),--of the Sex +Feminine, in particular. Experienced was he, beyond all doubt, in their +pretty tricks, and foibles, since he had ever been a diligent student of +Feminine Capriciousness when the "Merry Monarch" ruled the land. + +Hence, it became customary for Bellew to sit with him, and smoke, and +take counsel of this "preux chevalier" upon the unfortunate turn of +affairs. Whereof ensued many remarkable conversations of which the +following, was one: + +BELLEW: No sir,--emphatically I do not agree with you. To be sure, you +may have had more experience than I, in such affairs,--but then, it was +such a very long time ago. + +THE CAVALIER: (Interrupting, or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Again, I beg to differ from you, women are not the same to-day +as they ever were. Judging by what I have read of the ladies of your +day, and King Charles's court at Whitehall,--I should say--not. At +least, if they are, they act differently, and consequently must +be--er--wooed differently. The methods employed in your day would be +wholly inadequate and quite out of place, in this. + +THE CAVALIER: (Shaking his head and smirking,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Well, I'm willing to bet you anything you like that if you were +to step down out of your frame, change your velvets and laces for +trousers and coat, leave off your great peruke, and wear a derby hat +instead of that picturesque, floppy affair, and try your fortune with +some Twentieth Century damsel, your high-sounding gallantries, and +flattering phrases, would fall singularly flat, and you would be +promptly--turned down, sir. + +THE CAVALIER: (Tossing his love-locks,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: The "strong hand," you say? Hum! History tells us that William +the Conqueror wooed his lady with a club, or a battle-axe, or something +of the sort, and she consequently liked him the better for it; which was +all very natural, and proper of course, in her case, seeing that hers +was the day of battle-axes, and things. But then, as I said before, +sir,--the times are sadly changed,--women may still admire strength of +body, and even--occasionally--of mind, but the theory of "Dog, woman, +and walnut tree" is quite obsolete. + +THE CAVALIER: (Frowning and shaking his head,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Ha!--you don't believe me? Well, that is because you are +obsolete, too;--yes sir, as obsolete as your hat, or your boots, or your +long rapier. Now, for instance, suppose I were to ask your advice in my +own case? You know precisely how the matter stands at present, between +Miss Anthea and myself. You also know Miss Anthea personally, since you +have seen her much and often, and have watched her grow from childhood +into--er--glorious womanhood,--I repeat sir glorious womanhood. Thus, +you ought to know, and understand her far better than I,--for I do +confess she is a constant source of bewilderment to me. Now, since you +do know her so well,--what course should you adopt, were you in +my place? + +THE CAVALIER: (Smirking more knowingly than ever,--or seeming to)!!! + +BELLEW: Preposterous! Quite absurd!--and just what I might have +expected. Carry her off, indeed! No no, we are not living in your bad, +old, glorious days when a maid's "No" was generally taken to mean +"Yes"--or when a lover might swing his reluctant mistress up to his +saddle-bow, and ride off with her, leaving the world far behind. To-day +it is all changed,--sadly changed. Your age was a wild age, a violent +age, but in some respects, perhaps, a rather glorious age. Your advice +is singularly characteristic, and, of course, quite impossible, +alas!--Carry her off, indeed! + +Hereupon, Bellew sighed, and turning away, lighted his pipe, which had +gone out, and buried himself in the newspaper. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +_Of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax, and the third finger of the left +hand_ + +So Bellew took up the paper. The house was very quiet, for Small Porges +was deep in the vexatious rules of the Multiplication Table, and +something he called "Jogafrey," Anthea was out, as usual, and Miss +Priscilla was busied with her numerous household duties. Thus the +brooding silence was unbroken save for the occasional murmur of a voice, +the jingle of the housekeeping keys, and the quick, light tap, tap, of +Miss Priscilla's stick. + +Therefore, Bellew read the paper, and let it be understood that he +regarded the daily news-sheet as the last resource of the utterly bored. + +Now presently, as he glanced over the paper with a negative interest his +eye was attracted by a long paragraph beginning: + +At St. George's, Hanover Square, by the Right Reverend the Bishop +of----, Silvia Cecile Marchmont, to His Grace the Duke of Ryde, +K.G., K.C.B. + +Below followed a full, true, and particular account of the ceremony +which, it seemed, had been graced by Royalty. George Bellew read it half +way through, and--yawned,--positively, and actually, yawned, and +thereafter, laughed. + +"And so, I have been in Arcadia--only three weeks! I have known Anthea +only twenty-one days! A ridiculously short time, as time goes,--in any +other place but Arcadia,--and yet sufficient to lay for ever, +the--er--Haunting Spectre of the Might Have Been. Lord! what a +preposterous ass I was! Baxter was quite right,--utterly, and completely +right! Now, let us suppose that this paragraph had read: 'To-day, at St. +George's, Hanover Square, Anthea Devine to--' No no,--confound it!" and +Bellew crumpled up the paper, and tossed it into a distant corner. "I +wonder what Baxter would think of me now,--good old faithful John. The +Haunting Spectre of the Might Have Been,--What a preposterous ass!--what +a monumental idiot I was!" + +"Posterous ass, isn't a very pretty word, Uncle Porges,--or continental +idiot!" said a voice behind him, and turning, he beheld Small Porges +somewhat stained, and bespattered with ink, who shook a reproving +head at him. + +"True, nephew," he answered, "but they are sometimes very apt, and in +this instance, particularly so." + +Small Porges drew near, and, seating himself upon the arm of Bellew's +chair, looked at his adopted uncle, long, and steadfastly. + +"Uncle Porges," said he, at last, "you never tell stories, do you?--I +mean--lies, you know." + +"Indeed, I hope not, Porges,--why do you ask?" + +"Well,--'cause my Auntie Anthea's 'fraid you do." + +"Is she--hum!--Why?" + +"When she came to 'tuck me up,' last night, she sat down on my bed, an' +talked to me a long time. An' she sighed a lot, an' said she was 'fraid +I didn't care for her any more,--which was awful' silly, you know." + +"Yes, of course!" nodded Bellew. + +"An' then she asked me why I was so fond of you, an' I said 'cause you +were my Uncle Porges that I found under a hedge. An' then she got more +angrier than ever, an' said she wished I'd left you under the hedge--" + +"Did she, my Porges?" + +"Yes; she said she wished she'd never seen you, an' she'd be awful' glad +when you'd gone away. So I told her you weren't ever going away, an' +that we were waiting for the Money Moon to come, an' bring us the +fortune. An' then she shook her head, an' said 'Oh! my dear,--you +mustn't believe anything he says to you about the moon, or anything +else, 'cause he tells lies,'--an' she said 'lies' twice!" + +"Ah!--and--did she stamp her foot, Porges?" + +"Yes, I think she did; an' then she said there wasn't such a thing as a +Money Moon, an' she told me you were going away very soon, to get +married, you know." + +"And what did you say?" + +"Oh! I told her that I was going too. An' then I thought she was going +to cry, an' she said 'Oh Georgy! I didn't think you'd leave me--even for +him.' So then I had to s'plain how we had arranged that she was going to +marry you so that we could all live happy ever after,--I mean, that it +was all settled, you know, an' that you were going to speak to her on +the first--opportunity. An' then she looked at me a long time an' asked +me--was I sure you had said so. An' then she got awful' angry indeed, +an' said 'How dare he! Oh, how dare he!' So a course, I told her you'd +dare anything--even a dragon,--'cause you are so big, an' brave, you +know. So then she went an' stood at the window, an' she was so angry she +cried,--an' I nearly cried too. But at last she kissed me 'Good night' +an' said you were a man that never meant anything you said, an' that I +must never believe you any more, an' that you were going away to marry a +lady in London, an' that she was very glad, 'cause then we should all be +happy again she s'posed. So she kissed me again, an' tucked me up, an' +went away. But it was a long, long time before I could go to sleep, +'cause I kept on thinking, an' thinking s'posing there really wasn't any +Money Moon, after all! s'posing you were going to marry another lady in +London!--You see, it would all be so--frightfully awful, wouldn't it?" + +"Terribly dreadfully awful, my Porges." + +"But you never _do_ tell lies,--do you, Uncle Porges?" + +"No!" + +"An'--there _is_ a Money Moon, isn't there?" + +"Why of course there is." + +"An' you _are_ going to marry my Auntie Anthea in the full o' the moon, +aren't you?" + +"Yes, my Porges." + +"Why then--everything's all right again,--so let's go an' sit under the +hay-stack, an' talk 'bout ships." + +"But why of ships?" enquired Bellew, rising. + +"'Cause I made up my mind, this morning, that I'd be a sailor when I +grow up,--a mariner, you know, like Peterday, only I'd prefer to have +both my legs." + +"You'd find it more convenient, perhaps." + +"You know all 'bout oceans, an' waves, and billows, don't you Uncle +Porges?" + +"Well, I know a little." + +"An' are you ever sea-sick,--like a 'landlubber?'" + +"I used to be, but I got over it." + +"Was it a very big ship that you came over in?" + +"No,--not so very big, but she's about as fast as anything in her class, +and a corking sea-boat." + +"What's her name?" + +"Her name?" repeated Bellew, "well, she was called the--er 'Silvia.'" + +"That's an awful' pretty name for a ship." + +"Hum!--so so,--but I have learned a prettier, and next time she puts out +to sea we'll change her name, eh, my Porges?" + +"We?" cried Small Porges, looking up with eager eyes, "do you mean you'd +take me to sea with you,--an' my Auntie Anthea, of course?" + +"You don't suppose I'd leave either of you behind, if I could help it, +do you? We'd all sail away together--wherever you wished." + +"Do you mean," said Small Porges, in a suddenly awed voice, "that it +is--your ship,--your very own?" + +"Oh yes-" + +"But,--do you know, Uncle Porges, you don't look as though you had a +ship--for your very own, somehow." + +"Don't I?" + +"You see, a ship is such a very big thing for one man to have for his +very own self. An' has it got masts, an' funnels, an' anchors?" + +"Lots of 'em." + +"Then, please, when will you take me an' Auntie Anthea sailing all over +the oceans?" + +"Just so soon as she is ready to come." + +"Then I think I'd like to go to Nova Zembla first,--I found it in my +jogafrey to-day, an' it sounds nice an' far off, doesn't it?" + +"It does, Shipmate!" nodded Bellew. + +"Oh! that's fine!" exclaimed Small Porges rapturously, "you shall be the +captain, an' I'll be the shipmate, an' we'll say Aye Aye, to each +other--like the real sailors do in books,--shall we?" + +"Aye, aye Shipmate!" nodded Bellew again. + +"Then please, Uncle Por--I mean Captain,--what shall we name our +ship,--I mean the new name?" + +"Well, my Porges,--I mean, of course, shipmate,--I rather thought of +calling her--Hallo!--why here's the Sergeant." + +Sure enough, there was Sergeant Appleby sitting under the shade of "King +Arthur"--but who rose, and stood at attention as they came up. + +"Why Sergeant, how are you?" said Bellew, gripping the veteran's hand. +"You are half an hour before your usual time, to-day,--nothing wrong, +I hope?" + +"Nothing wrong, Mr. Bellew, sir--I thank you. No, nothing wrong, but +this--is a--memorable occasion, sir. May I trouble you to--step behind +the tree with me--for half a moment, sir?" + +Suiting the action to the word, the Sergeant led Bellew to the other +side of the tree, and there, screened from view of the house, he, with a +sudden, jerky movement, produced a very small leather case from his +pocket, which he handed to Bellew. + +"Not good enough--for such a woman--I know, but the best I could afford, +sir!" said the Sergeant appearing profoundly interested in the leaves +overhead, while Bellew opened the very small box. + +"Why--it's very handsome, Sergeant!" said Bellew, making the jewels +sparkle in the sun,--"anyone might be proud of such a ring." + +"Why, it did look pretty tidy--in the shop, sir,--to me, and Peterday. +My comrade has a sharp eye, and a sound judgment in most things, +sir--and we took--a deal of trouble in selecting it. But now--when it +comes to--giving it to _Her_,--why it looks--uncommon small, and +mean, sir." + +"A ruby, and two diamonds, and very fine stones, too, Sergeant!" + +"So I made so bold as to--come here sir," pursued the Sergeant still +interested in the foliage above, "half an hour afore my usual time--to +ask you, sir--if you would so far oblige me--as to--hand it to her--when +I'm gone, sir." + +"Lord, no!" said Bellew, smiling and shaking his head, "not on your +life, Sergeant! Why man it would lose half its value in her eyes if any +other than you gave it to her. No Sergeant, you must hand it to her +yourself, and, what's more, you must slip it upon her finger." + +"Good Lord! sir!" exclaimed the Sergeant, "I could never do that!" + +"Oh yes you could!" + +"Not unless you--stood by me--a force in reserve, as it were, sir." + +"I'll do that willingly, Sergeant." + +"Then--p 'raps sir--you might happen to know--which finger?" + +"The third finger of the left hand, I believe Sergeant." + +"Here's Aunt Priscilla now," said Small Porges, at this juncture. + +"Lord!" exclaimed the Sergeant, "and sixteen minutes afore her usual +time!" + +Yes,--there was Miss Priscilla, her basket of sewing upon her arm, as +gentle, as unruffled, as placid as usual. And yet it is probable that +she divined something from their very attitudes, for there was a light +in her eyes, and her cheeks seemed more delicately pink than was their +wont. Thus, as she came toward them, under the ancient apple-trees, +despite her stick, and her white hair, she looked even younger, and more +girlish than ever. + +At least, the Sergeant seemed to think so, for, as he met her look, his +face grew suddenly radiant, while a slow flush crept up under the tan of +his cheek, and the solitary hand he held out to her, trembled a little, +for all its size, and strength. + +"Miss Priscilla, mam--" he said, and stopped. "Miss Priscilla," he began +again, and paused once more. + +"Why--Sergeant!" she exclaimed, though it was a very soft little +exclamation indeed,--for her hand still rested in his, and so she could +feel the quiver of the strong fingers, "why--Sergeant!" + +"Miss Priscilla,--" said he, beginning all over again, but with no +better success. + +"Goodness me!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, "I do believe he is going to +forget to enquire about the peaches!" + +"Peaches!" repeated the Sergeant, "Yes, Priscilla." + +"And--why?" + +"'Cause he's brought you a ring," Small Porges broke in, "a very +handsome ring, you know, Aunt Priscilla,--all diamonds an' jewels, an' +he wants you to please let him put it on your finger--if you +don't mind." + +"And--here it is!" said the Sergeant, and gave it into her hand. + +Miss Priscilla stood very silent, and very still, looking down at the +glittering gems, then, all at once, her eyes filled, and a slow wave of +colour dyed her cheeks: + +"Oh Sergeant!" she said, very softly, "Oh Sergeant, I am only a poor, +old woman--with a lame foot!" + +"And I am a poor, old soldier--with only one arm, Priscilla." + +"You are the strongest, and gentlest, and bravest soldier in all the +world, I think!" she answered. + +"And you, Priscilla, are the sweetest, and most beautiful _woman_ in the +world, I _know!_ And so--I've loved you all these years, and--never +dared to tell you so, because of my--one arm." + +"Why then," said Miss Priscilla, smiling up at him through her tears, +"if you do--really--think that,--why,--it's this finger, Sergeant!" + +So the Sergeant, very clumsily, perhaps, because he had but the one +hand, slipped the ring upon the finger in question. And Porges, Big, and +Small, turning to glance back, as they went upon their way saw that he +still held that small white hand pressed close to his lips. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +_Coming events cast their shadows before_ + +"I s'pose they'll be marrying each other, one of these fine days!" said +Small Porges as they crossed the meadow, side by side. + +"Yes, I expect so, Shipmate," nodded Bellew, "and may they live long, +and die happy, say I." + +"Aye, aye, Captain,--an' Amen!" returned Small Porges. + +Now as they went, conversing of marriage, and ships, and the wonders, +and marvels of foreign lands,--they met with Adam who stared up at the +sky and muttered to himself, and frowned, and shook his head. + +"Good arternoon, Mr. Belloo sir,--an' Master Georgy!" + +"Well, Adam, how are the hops?" + +"'Ops sir,--there never was such 'ops,--no, not in all Kent, sir. All +I'm wishin' is that they was all safe picked, an' gathered. W'ot do you +make o' them clouds, sir,--over there,--jest over the p'int o' the +oast-house?" + +Bellew turned, and cast a comprehensive, sailor-like glance in the +direction indicated. + +"Rain, Adam, and wind,--and plenty of it!" said he. + +"Ah! so I think, sir,--driving storm, and thrashing tempest!" + +"Well, Adam?" + +"Well, sir,--p'raps you've never seen w'ot driving rain, an' raging +wind, can do among the 'op-bines, sir. All I wish is that they 'ops was +all safe picked an' gathered, sir!" And Adam strode off with his eye +still turned heaven-ward, and shaking his head like some great bird +of ill-omen. + +So the afternoon wore away to evening, and with evening, came Anthea; +but a very grave-eyed, troubled Anthea, who sat at the tea-table silent, +and preoccupied,--in so much, that Small Porges openly wondered, while +Miss Priscilla watched over her, wistful, and tender. + +Thus, Tea, which was wont to be the merriest meal of the day, was but +the pale ghost of what it should have been, despite Small Porges' flow +of conversation, (when not impeded by bread and jam), and Bellew's +tactful efforts. Now while he talked light-heartedly, keeping carefully +to generalities, he noticed two things,--one was that Anthea made but a +pretence at eating, and the second, that though she uttered a word, now +and then, yet her eyes persistently avoided his. + +Thus, he, for one, was relieved when tea was over, and, as he rose from +the table, he determined, despite the unpropitious look of things, to +end the suspense, one way or another, and speak to Anthea just so soon +as she should be alone. + +But here again he was balked and disappointed, for when Small Porges +came to bid him good-night as usual, he learned that "Auntie Anthea" had +already gone to bed. + +"She says it's a head-ache," said Small Porges, "but I 'specks it's the +hops, really, you know." + +"The hops, my Porges?" + +"She's worrying about them,--she's 'fraid of a storm, like Adam is. An' +when she worries,--I worry. Oh Uncle Porges!--if only my prayers can +bring the Money Moon--soon, you know,--very soon! If they don't bring it +in a day or two,--'fraid I shall wake up, one fine morning, an' find +I've worried, an' worried myself into an old man." + +"Never fear, Shipmate!" said Bellew in his most nautical manner, "'all's +well that ends well,'--a-low, and aloft all's a-taunto. So just take a +turn at the lee braces, and keep your weather eye lifting, for you may +be sure of this,--if the storm does come,--it will bring the Money +Moon with it." + +Then, having bidden Small Porges a cheery "Good-night"--Bellew went out +to walk among the roses. And, as he walked, he watched the flying wrack +of clouds above his head, and listened to the wind that moaned in fitful +gusts. Wherefore, having learned in his many travels to read, and +interpret such natural signs and omens, he shook his head, and muttered +to himself--even as Adam had done before him. + +Presently he wandered back into the house, and, filling his pipe, went +to hold communion with his friend--the Cavalier. + +And thus it was that having ensconced himself in the great elbow-chair, +and raised his eyes to the picture, he espied a letter tucked into the +frame, thereof. Looking closer, he saw that it was directed to himself. +He took it down, and, after a momentary hesitation, broke the seal, +and read: + +Miss Devine presents her compliments to Mr. Bellew, and regrets to say +that owing to unforeseen circumstances, she begs that he will provide +himself with other quarters at the expiration of the month, being the +Twenty-third inst. + +Bellew read the lines slowly, twice over, then, folding the note very +carefully, put it into his pocket, and stood for a long time staring at +nothing in particular. At length he lifted his head, and looked up into +the smiling eyes of the Cavalier, above the mantel. + +"Sir," said he, very gravely, "it would almost seem that you were in the +right of it,--that yours is the best method, after all!" Then he knocked +the ashes from his pipe, and went, slowly, and heavily, up-stairs +to bed. + +It was a long time before he fell asleep, but he did so at last, for +Insomnia is a demon who rarely finds his way into Arcadia. But, all at +once, he was awake again,--broad awake, and staring into the dark, for a +thousand voices seemed to be screaming in his ears, and eager hands were +shaking, and plucking at window and lattice. He started up, and then he +knew that the storm was upon them, at last, in all its fury,--rain, and +a mighty wind,--a howling raging tempest. Yes, a great, and mighty wind +was abroad,--it shrieked under the eaves, it boomed and bellowed in the +chimneys, and roared away to carry destruction among the distant woods; +while the rain beat hissing against the window-panes. + +Surely in all its many years the old house of Dapplemere had seldom +borne the brunt of such a storm, so wild,--so fierce, and pitiless! + +And, lying there upon his bed, listening to the uproar, and tumult, +Bellew must needs think of her who had once said: + +"We are placing all our hopes, this year, upon the hops!" + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +_How Small Porges, in his hour of need, was deserted by his Uncle_ + +"Ruined, sir!--Done for!--Lord love me! they ain't worth the trouble o? +gatherin'--w'ot's left on 'em, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"So bad as that, Adam?" + +"Bad!--ah, so bad as ever was, sir!" said Adam, blinking suspiciously, +and turning suddenly away. + +"Has Miss Anthea seen,--does she know?" + +"Ah! she were out at dawn, and Oh Lord, Mr. Belloo sir! I can't never +forget her poor, stricken face,--so pale and sad it were. But she never +said nothing, only: 'Oh, Adam!--my poor hops!' An' I see her lips all of +a quiver while she spoke. An' so she turned away, an' came back to the +'ouse, sir. Poor lass! Oh poor lass!" he exclaimed, his voice growing +more husky. "She's made a brave fight for it, sir,--but it weren't no +use, ye see,--it'll be 'Good-bye' for her to Dapplemere, arter all, that +there mortgage can't never be paid now,--nohow." + +"When is it due?" + +"Well, according to the bond, or the deed, or whatever they calls +it,--it be doo--tonight, at nine o'clock, sir,--though Old Grimes,--as +a special favour, an' arter much persuading,--'ad agreed to hold over +till next Saturday,--on account o' the 'op-picking. But now--seeing as +there ain't no 'ops to be picked,--why he'll fore-close to-night, an' +glad enough to do it, you can lay your oath on that, Mr. Belloo sir." + +"To-night!" said Bellew, "to-night!" and he stood, for a while with bent +head, as though lost in profound thought. "Adam," said he, suddenly, +"help me to harness the mare, I must drive over to the nearest rail-road +depot,--hurry, I must be off, the sooner, the better." + +"What!--be you--goin' sir?" + +"Yes;--hurry, man,--hurry!" + +"D'ye mean as you're a-goin' to leave her--now, in the middle o' all +this trouble?" + +"Yes, Adam,--I must go to London--on business,--now hurry, like a good +fellow." And so, together they entered the stable, and together they +harnessed the mare. Which done, staying not for breakfast, Bellew +mounted the driver's seat, and, with Adam beside him, drove +rapidly away. + +But Small Porges had seen these preparations, and now came running all +eagerness, but ere he could reach the yard, Bellew was out of ear-shot. + +So there stood Small Porges, a desolate little figure, watching the +rapid course of the dogcart until it had vanished over the brow of the +hill. And then, all at once the tears welled up into his eyes hot, and +scalding, and a great sob burst from him, for it seemed to him that his +beloved Uncle Porges had failed him at the crucial moment,--had left him +solitary just when he needed him most. + +Thus Small Porges gave way to his grief, hidden in the very darkest +corner of the stable, whither he had retired lest any should observe his +weakness, until having once more gained command of himself, and wiped +away his tears with his small, and dingy pocket-handkerchief, he slowly +re-crossed the yard, and entering the house went to look for his +Auntie Anthea. + +And, after much search, he found her--half-lying, half-kneeling beside +his bed. When he spoke to her, though she answered him, she did not look +up, and he knew that she was weeping. + +"Don't, Auntie Anthea,--don't!" he pleaded. "I know Uncle Porges has +gone away, an' left us, but you've got me left, you know,--an' I shall +be a man--very soon,--before my time, I think. So--don't cry,--though +I'm awful' sorry he's gone, too--just when we needed him the most, +you know!" + +"Oh Georgy!" she whispered, "my dear, brave little Georgy! We shall only +have each other soon,--they're going to take Dapplemere away from +us,--and everything we have in the world,--Oh Georgy!" + +"Well, never mind!" said he, kneeling beside her, and drawing one small +arm protectingly about her, "we shall always have each other left, you +know,--nobody shall ever take you away from me. An' then--there's +the--Money Moon! It's been an awful' long time coming,--but it may come +to-night, or tomorrow night. _He_ said it would be sure to come if the +storm came, an' so I'll find the fortune for you at last. I know I shall +find it _some day_ a course--'cause I've prayed, an' prayed for it so +very hard, an' _He_ said my prayers went straight up to heaven, an' +didn't get blown away, or lost in the clouds. So--don't cry, Auntie +Anthea let's wait--just a little longer--till the Money Moon comes." + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +_In which shall be found mention of a certain black bag_ + +"Baxter!" + +"Sir?" + +"Get me a pen, and ink!" + +"Yes, sir." + +Now any ordinary mortal might have manifested just a little surprise to +behold his master walk suddenly in, dusty and dishevelled of person, his +habitual languor entirely laid aside, and to thus demand pen and ink, +forthwith. But then, Baxter, though mortal, was the very cream of a +gentleman's gentleman, and the acme of valets, (as has been said), and +comported himself accordingly. + +"Baxter!" + +"Sir?" + +"Oblige me by getting this cashed." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Bring half of it in gold." + +"Sir," said Baxter, glancing down at the slip of paper, "did you +say--half, sir?" + +"Yes, Baxter,--I'd take it all in gold only that it would be rather +awkward to drag around. So bring half in gold, and the rest in--five +pound notes." + +"Very good, sir!" + +"And--Baxter!" + +"Sir?" + +"Take a cab!" + +"Certainly sir." And Baxter went out, closing the door behind him. +Meanwhile Bellew busied himself in removing all traces of his journey, +and was already bathed, and shaved, and dressed, by the time +Baxter returned. + +Now gripped in his right hand Baxter carried a black leather bag which +jingled as he set it down upon the table. + +"Got it?" enquired Bellew. + +"I have, sir." + +"Good!" nodded Bellew. "Now just run around to the garage, and fetch the +new racing car,--the Mercedes." + +"Now, sir?" + +"Now, Baxter!" + +Once more Baxter departed, and, while he was gone, Bellew began to +pack,--that is to say, he bundled coats and trousers, shirts and boots +into a portmanteau in a way that would have wrung Baxter's heart, could +he have seen. Which done, Bellew opened the black bag, glanced inside, +shut it again, and, lighting his pipe, stretched himself out upon an +ottoman, and immediately became plunged in thought. + +So lost was he, indeed, that Baxter, upon his return was necessitated to +emit three distinct coughs,--(the most perfectly proper, and +gentleman-like coughs in the world) ere Bellew was aware of +his presence. + +"Oh!--that you, Baxter?" said he, sitting up, "back so soon?" + +"The car is at the door, sir." + +"The car?--ah yes, to be sure!--Baxter." + +"Sir?" + +"What should you say if I told you--" Bellew paused to strike a match, +broke it, tried another, broke that, and finally put his pipe back into +his pocket, very conscious the while of Baxter's steady, though +perfectly respectful regard. + +"Baxter," said he again. + +"Sir?" said Baxter. + +"What should you say if I told you that I was in love--at last, +Baxter!--Head over ears--hopelessly--irretrievably?" + +"Say, sir?--why I should say,--indeed, sir?" + +"What should you say," pursued Bellew, staring thoughtfully down at the +rug under his feet, "if I told you that I am so very much, in love that +I am positively afraid to--tell her so?" + +"I should say--very remarkable, sir!" + +Bellew took out his pipe again, looked at it very much as if he had +never seen such a thing before, and laid it down upon the mantelpiece. + +"Baxter," said he, "kindly understand that I am speaking to you +as--er--man to man,--as my father's old and trusted servant and my early +boy-hood's only friend; sit down, John." + +"Thank you, Master George, sir." + +"I wish to--confess to you, John, that--er--regarding the--er--Haunting +Spectre of the Might Have Been,--you were entirely in the right. At that +time I knew no more the meaning of the--er--the word, John--" + +"Meaning the word--Love, Master George!" + +"Precisely; I knew no more about it than--that table. But during these +latter days, I have begun to understand, and--er--the fact of the matter +is--I'm--I'm fairly--up against it, John!" + +Here, Baxter, who had been watching him with his quick, sharp eyes +nodded his head solemnly: + +"Master George," said he, "speaking as your father's old servant, and +your boyhood's friend,--I'm afraid you are." + +Bellew took a turn up and down the room, and then pausing in front of +Baxter, (who had risen also, as a matter of course), he suddenly laid +his two hands upon his valet's shoulders. + +"Baxter," said he, "you'll remember that after my mother died, my father +was always too busy piling up his millions to give much time or thought +to me, and I should have been a very lonely small boy if it hadn't been +for you, John Baxter. I was often 'up against it,' in those days, John, +and you were always ready to help, and advise me;--but now,--well, from +the look of things, I'm rather afraid that I must stay 'up against +it'--that the game is lost already, John. But which ever way Fate +decides--win, or lose,--I'm glad--yes, very glad to have learned the +true meaning of--the word, John." + +"Master George, sir,--there was a poet once--Tennyson, I think, who +said,--'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at +all,' and I know--that he was--right. Many years ago,--before you were +born, Master George, I loved--and lost, and that is how I know. But I +hope that Fortune will be kinder to you, indeed I do." + +"Thank you, John,--though I don't see why she should be." And Bellew +stood staring down at the rug again, till aroused by Baxter's cough: + +"Pray sir, what are your orders, the car is waiting downstairs?" + +"Orders?--why--er--pack your grip, Baxter, I shall take you with me, +this time, into Arcadia, Baxter." + +"For how long, sir?" + +"Probably a week." + +"Very good, sir." + +"It is now half-past three, I must be back in Dapplemere at eight. Take +your time--I'll go down to look at the machine. Just lock the place up, +and--er--don't forget the black bag." + +Some ten minutes later the great racing car set out on its journey, with +Bellew at the wheel, and Baxter beside him with the black bag held +firmly upon his knee. + +Their process was, necessarily, slow at first, on account of the crowded +thoroughfares. But, every now and then, the long, low car would shoot +forward through some gap in the traffic, grazing the hubs of bus-wheels, +dodging hansoms, shaving sudden corners in an apparently reckless +manner. But Baxter, with his hand always upon the black leather bag, sat +calm and unruffled, since he knew, by long experience, that Bellew's eye +was quick and true, and his hand firm and sure upon the wheel. + +Over Westminster Bridge, and along the Old Kent Road they sped, now +fast, now slow,--threading a tortuous, and difficult way amid the myriad +vehicles, and so, betimes, they reached Blackheath. + +And now the powerful machine hummed over that ancient road that had +aforetime, shaken to the tread of stalwart Roman Legionaries,--up +Shooter's Hill, and down,--and so into the open country. + +And, ever as they went, they talked. And not as master and servant but +as "between man and man,"--wherefore Baxter the Valet became merged and +lost in Baxter the Human,--the honest John of the old days,--a gray +haired, kindly-eyed, middle-aged cosmopolitan who listened to, and +looked at, Young Alcides beside him as if he had indeed been the Master +George, of years ago. + +"So you see, John, if all things _do_ go well with me, we should +probably take a trip to the Mediterranean." + +"In the--'Silvia,' of course, Master George?" + +"Yes; though--er--I've decided to change her name, John." + +"Ah!--very natural--under the circumstances, Master George," said honest +John, his eyes twinkling slyly as he spoke, "Now, if I might suggest a +new name it would be hard to find a more original one than 'The Haunting +Spectre of the--" + +"Bosh, John!--there never was such a thing, you were quite right, as I +said before, and--by heaven,--potato sacks!" + +"Eh,--what?--potato sacks, Master George?" + +They had been climbing a long, winding ascent, but now, having reached +the top of the hill, they overtook a great, lumbering market cart, or +wain, piled high with sacks of potatoes, and driven by an extremely +surly-faced man in a smock-frock. + +"Hallo there!" cried Bellew, slowing up, "how much for one of your +potato-sacks?" + +"Get out, now!" growled the surly-faced man, in a tone as surly as his +look, "can't ye see as they're all occipied?" + +"Well,--empty one." + +"Get out, now!" repeated the man, scowling blacker than ever. + +"I'll give you a sovereign for one." + +"Now, don't ye try to come none o' your jokes wi' me, young feller!" +growled the carter. "Sovereign!--bah!--Show us." + +"Here it is," said Bellew, holding up the coin in question. "Catch!" +and, with the word, he tossed it up to the carter who caught it, very +dexterously, looked at it, bit it, rubbed it on his sleeve, rang it upon +the foot-board of his waggon, bit it again and finally pocketed it. + +"It's a go, sir," he nodded, his scowl vanishing as by magic; and as he +spoke, he turned, seized the nearest sack, and, forthwith sent a cascade +of potatoes rolling, and bounding all over the road. Which done, he +folded up the sack, and handed it down to Bellew who thrust it under the +seat, nodded, and, throwing in the clutch, set off down the road. But, +long after the car had hummed itself out of sight, and the dust of its +going had subsided, the carter sat staring after it--open-mouthed. + +If Baxter wondered at this purchase, he said nothing, only he bent his +gaze thoughtfully upon the black leather bag that he held upon his knee. + +On they sped between fragrant hedges, under whispering trees, past +lonely cottages and farm-houses, past gate, and field, and wood, until +the sun grew low. + +At last, Bellew stopped the automobile at a place where a narrow lane, +or cart track, branched off from the high road, and wound away between +great trees. + +"I leave you here," said he as he sprang from the car, "this is +Dapplemere,--the farmhouse lies over the up-land, yonder, though you +can't see it because of the trees." + +"Is it far, Master George?" + +"About half a mile." + +"Here is the bag, sir; but--do you think it is--quite safe--?" + +"Safe, John?" + +"Under the circumstances, Master George, I think it would be advisable +to--to take this with you." And he held out a small revolver. Bellew +laughed, and shook his head. + +"Such things aren't necessary--here in Arcadia, John,--besides, I have +my stick. So good-bye, for the present, you'll stay at the 'King's +Head,'--remember." + +"Good-night, Master George, sir, goodnight! and good fortune go with +you." + +"Thank you!" said Bellew, and reached out his hand, "I think we'll shake +on that, John!" + +So they clasped hands, and Bellew turned, and set off along the grassy +lane. And, presently, as he went, he heard the hum of the car grow +rapidly fainter and fainter until it was lost in the quiet of +the evening. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +_The Conspirators_ + +The shadows were creeping down, and evening was approaching, as Bellew +took his way along that winding lane that led to the House of +Dapplemere. + +Had there been anyone to see, (which there was not), they might have +noticed something almost furtive in his manner of approach, for he +walked always under the trees where the shadows lay thickest, and +paused, once or twice, to look about him warily. Being come within sight +of the house, he turned aside, and forcing his way through a gap in the +hedge, came by a roundabout course to the farm-yard. Here, after some +search, he discovered a spade, the which, (having discarded his stick), +he took upon his shoulder, and with the black leather bag tucked under +his arm, crossed the paddock with the same degree of caution, and so, at +last, reached the orchard. On he went, always in the shadow until, at +length, he paused beneath the mighty, knotted branches of "King Arthur." +Never did conspirator glance about him with sharper eyes, or hearken +with keener ears, than did George Bellew,--or Conspirator No. One, where +he now stood beneath the protecting shadow of "King Arthur,"--or +Conspirator No. Two, as, having unfolded the potato sack, he opened the +black leather bag. + +The moon was rising broad, and yellow, but it was low as yet, and "King +Arthur" stood in impenetrable gloom,--as any other thorough-going, +self-respecting conspirator should; and now, all at once, from this +particular patch of shadow, there came a sudden sound,--a rushing +sound,--a chinking, clinking, metallic sound, and, thereafter, a crisp +rustling that was not the rustling of ordinary paper. + +And now Conspirator No. One rises, and ties the mouth of the sack with +string he had brought with him for the purpose, and setting down the +sack, bulky now and heavy, by Conspirator No. Two, takes up the spade +and begins to dig. And, in a while, having made an excavation not very +deep to be sure, but sufficient to his purpose, he deposits the sack +within, covers it with soil, treads it down, and replacing the torn sod, +carefully pats it down with the flat of his spade. Which thing +accomplished, Conspirator No. One wipes his brow, and stepping forth of +the shadow, consults his watch with anxious eye, and, thereupon, +smiles,--surely a singularly pleasing smile for the lips of an +arch-conspirator to wear. Thereafter he takes up the black bag, empty +now, shoulders the spade, and sets off, keeping once more in the +shadows, leaving Conspirator No. Two to guard their guilty secret. + +Now, as Conspirator No. One goes his shady way, he keeps his look +directed towards the rising moon, and thus he almost runs into one who +also stands amid the shadows and whose gaze is likewise fixed upon +the moon. + +"Ah?--Mr. Bellew!" exclaims a drawling voice, and Squire Cassilis turns +to regard him with his usual supercilious smile. Indeed Squire Cassilis +seems to be even more self-satisfied, and smiling than ordinary, +to-night,--or at least Bellew imagines so. + +"You are still agriculturally inclined, I see," said Mr. Cassilis, +nodding towards the spade, "though it's rather a queer time to choose +for digging, isn't it?" + +"Not at all, sir--not at all," returned Bellew solemnly, "the moon is +very nearly at the full, you will perceive." + +"Well, sir,--and what of that?" + +"When the moon is at the full, or nearly so, I generally dig, sir,--that +is to say, circumstances permitting." + +"Really," said Mr. Cassilis beginning to caress his moustache, "it seems +to me that you have very--ah--peculiar tastes, Mr. Bellew." + +"That is because you have probably never experienced the fierce joys of +moon-light digging, sir." + +"No, Mr. Bellew,--digging--as a recreation, has never appealed to me at +any time." + +"Then sir," said Bellew, shaking his head, "permit me to tell you that +you have missed a great deal. Had I the time, I should be delighted to +explain to you exactly how much, as it is--allow me to wish you a very +good evening." + +Mr. Cassilis smiled, and his teeth seemed to gleam whiter, and sharper +than ever in the moon-light: + +"Wouldn't it be rather more apropos if you said--'Good-bye' Mr. Bellew?" +he enquired. "You are leaving Dapplemere, shortly, I understand,--aren't +you?" + +"Why sir," returned Bellew, grave, and imperturbable as ever,--"it all +depends." + +"Depends!--upon what, may I ask?" + +"The moon, sir." + +"The moon?" + +"Precisely!" + +"And pray--what can the moon have to do with your departure?" + +"A great deal more than you'd think--sir. Had I the time, I should be +delighted to explain to you exactly how much, as it is,--permit me to +wish you a very--good evening!" + +Saying which, Bellew nodded affably, and, shouldering his spade, went +upon his way. And still he walked in the shadows, and still he gazed +upon the moon, but now, his thick brows were gathered in a frown, and he +was wondering just why Cassilis should chance to be here, to-night, and +what his confident air, and the general assurance of his manner might +portend; above all, he was wondering how Mr. Cassilis came to be aware +of his own impending departure. And so, at last, he came to the +rick-yard,--full of increasing doubt and misgivings. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +_How the money moon rose_ + +Evening had deepened into night,--a night of ineffable calm, a night of +an all pervading quietude. A horse snorted in the stable nearby, a dog +barked in the distance, but these sounds served only to render the +silence the more profound, by contrast. It was, indeed, a night wherein +pixies, and elves, and goblins, and fairies might weave their magic +spells, a night wherein tired humanity dreamed those dreams that seem so +hopelessly impossible by day. + +And, over all, the moon rose high, and higher, in solemn majesty, +filling the world with her pale loveliness, and brooding over it like +the gentle goddess she is. Even the distant dog seemed to feel something +of all this, for, after a futile bark or two, he gave it up altogether, +and was heard no more. + +And Bellew, gazing up at Luna's pale serenity, smiled and nodded,--as +much as to say, "You'll do!" and so stood leaning upon his spade +listening to: + + "That deep hush which seems a sigh + Breathed by Earth to listening sky." + +Now, all at once, upon this quietude there rose a voice up-raised in +fervent supplication; wherefore, treading very softly, Bellew came, and +peeping round the hay-rick, beheld Small Porges upon his knees. He was +equipped for travel and the perils of the road, for beside him lay a +stick, and tied to this stick was a bundle that bulged with his most +cherished possessions. His cheeks were wet with great tears that +glistened in the moon-beams, but he wept with eyes tight shut, and with +his small hands clasped close together, and thus he spoke,--albeit much +shaken, and hindered by sobs: + +"I s'pose you think I bother you an awful lot, dear Lord,--an' so I do, +but you haven't sent the Money Moon yet, you see, an' now my Auntie +Anthea's got to leave Dapplemere--if I don't find the fortune for her +soon. I know I'm crying a lot, an' real men don't cry,--but it's only +'cause I'm awful--lonely an' disappointed,--an' nobody can see me, so it +doesn't matter. But, dear Lord, I've looked an' looked everywhere, an' I +haven't found a single sovereign yet,--an' I've prayed to you, an' +prayed to you for the Money Moon an'--it's never come. So now, dear +Lord, I'm going to Africa, an' I want you to please take care of my +Auntie Anthea till I come back. Sometimes I'm 'fraid my prayers can't +quite manage to get up to you 'cause of the clouds, an' wind, but +to-night there isn't any, so, if they do reach you, please--Oh! please +let me find the fortune, and, if you don't mind, let--_him_ come back to +me, dear Lord,--I mean my Uncle Porges, you know. An' now--that's all, +dear Lord, so Amen!" + +As the prayer ended Bellew stole back, and coming to the gate of the +rick-yard, leaned there waiting. And, presently, as he watched, he saw a +small figure emerge from behind the big hay-stack and come striding +manfully toward him, his bundle upon his shoulder, and with the moon +bright in his curls. + +But, all at once, Small Porges saw him and stopped, and the stick and +bundle fell to the ground and lay neglected. + +"Why--my Porges!" said Bellew, a trifle huskily, perhaps, "why, +Shipmate!" and he held out his hands. Then Small Porges uttered a cry, +and came running, and next moment Big Porges had him in his arms. + +"Oh, Uncle Porges!--then you--have come back to me!" + +"Aye, aye, Shipmate." + +"Why, then--my prayers _did_ reach!" + +"Why, of course,--prayers always reach, my Porges." + +"Then, oh!--do you s'pose I shall find the fortune, too?" + +"Not a doubt of it,--just look at the moon!" + +"The--moon?" + +"Why, haven't you noticed how--er--peculiar it is to-night?" + +"Peculiar?" repeated Small Porges breathlessly, turning to look at it. + +"Why, yes, my Porges,--big, you know, and--er--yellow,--like--er--like a +very large sovereign." + +"Do you mean--Oh! do you mean--it's--the--" But here Small Porges choked +suddenly, and could only look his question. + +"The Money Moon?--Oh yes--there she is at last, my Porges! Take a good +look at her, I don't suppose we shall ever see another." + +Small Porges stood very still, and gazed up at the moon's broad, yellow +disc, and, as he looked the tears welled up in his eyes again, and a +great sob broke from him. + +"I'm so--glad!" he whispered. "So--awful--glad!" Then, suddenly, he +dashed away his tears and slipped his small, trembling hand +into Bellew's. + +"Quick, Uncle Porges!" said he, "Mr. Grimes is coming to-night, you +know--an' we must find the money in time. Where shall we look first?" + +"Well, I guess the orchard will do--to start with." + +"Then let's go--now." + +"But we shall need a couple of spades, Shipmate." + +"Oh!--must we dig?" + +"Yes,--I fancy that's a--er--digging moon, my Porges, from the look of +it. Ah! there's a spade, nice and handy, you take that and +I'll--er--I'll manage with this pitchfork." + +"But you can't dig with a--" + +"Oh! well--you can do the digging, and I'll just--er--prod, you know. +Ready?--then heave ahead, Shipmate." + +So they set out, hand in hand, spade and pitch-fork on shoulder, and +presently were come to the orchard. + +"It's an awful big place to dig up a fortune in!" said Small Porges, +glancing about. "Where do you s'pose we'd better begin?" + +"Well, Shipmate, between you and me, and the pitch-fork here, I rather +fancy 'King Arthur' knows more than most people would think. Any way, +we'll try him. You dig on that side, and I'll prod on this." + +Saying which, Bellew pointed to a certain spot where the grass looked +somewhat uneven, and peculiarly bumpy, and, bidding Small Porges get to +work, went round to the other side of the great tree. + +Being there, he took out his pipe, purely from force of habit, and stood +with it clenched in his teeth, listening to the scrape of Small +Porges' spade. + +Presently he heard a cry, a panting, breathless cry, but full of a joy +unspeakable: + +"I've got it!--Oh, Uncle Porges--I've found it!" + +Small Porges was down upon his knees, pulling and tugging at a sack he +had partially unearthed, and which, with Bellew's aid, he dragged forth +into the moonlight. In the twinkling of an eye the string was cut, and +plunging in a hand Small Porges brought up a fistful of shining +sovereigns, and, among them, a crumpled banknote. + +"It's all right, Uncle Porges!" he nodded, his voice all of a quaver. +"It's all right, now,--I've found the fortune I've prayed for,--gold, +you know, an' banknotes--in a sack. Everything will be all right again +now." And, while he spoke, he rose to his feet, and lifting the sack +with an effort, swung it across his shoulder, and set off toward +the house. + +"Is it heavy, Shipmate?" + +"Awful heavy!" he panted, "but I don't mind that--it's gold, you see!" +But, as they crossed the rose-garden, Bellew laid a restraining hand +upon his shoulder. + +"Porges," said he, "where is your Auntie Anthea?" + +"In the drawing-room, waiting for Mr. Grimes." + +"Then, come this way." And turning, Bellew led Small Porges up, and +along the terrace. + +"Now, my Porges," he admonished him, "when we come to the drawing-room +windows,--they're open, you see,--I want you to hide with me in the +shadows, and wait until I give you the word--" + +"Aye, aye, Captain!" panted Small Porges. + +"When I say 'heave ahead, Shipmate,'--why, then, you will take your +treasure upon your back and march straight into the room--you +understand?" + +"Aye, aye, Captain." + +"Why, then--come on, and--mum's the word." + +Very cautiously they approached the long French windows, and paused in +the shadow of a great rose-bush, near-by. From where he stood Bellew +could see Anthea and Miss Priscilla, and between them, sprawling in an +easy chair, was Grimes, while Adam, hat in hand, scowled in the +background. + +"All I can say is--as I'm very sorry for ye, Miss Anthea," Grimes was +saying. "Ah! that I am, but glad as you've took it so well,--no crying +nor nonsense!" Here he turned to look at Miss Priscilla, whose +everlasting sewing had fallen to her feet, and lay there all unnoticed, +while her tearful eyes were fixed upon Anthea, standing white-faced +beside her. + +"And when--when shall ye be ready to--leave, to--vacate Dapplemere, +Miss Anthea?" Grimes went on. "Not as I mean to 'urry you, mind,--only I +should like you to--name a day." + +Now, as Bellew watched, he saw Anthea's lips move, but no sound came. +Miss Priscilla saw also, and catching the nerveless hand, drew it to her +bosom, and wept over it. + +"Come! come!" expostulated Grimes, jingling the money in his pockets. +"Come, come, Miss Anthea, mam!--all as I'm axing you is--when? All as I +want you to do is--" + +But here Adam, who had been screwing and wringing at his hat, now +stepped forward and, tapping Grimes upon the shoulder, pointed to +the door: + +"Mister Grimes," said he, "Miss Anthea's told ye all as you come here to +find out,--she's told ye as she--can't pay, so now,--s'pose you--go." + +"But all I want to know is when she'll be ready to move, and I ain't a +going till I do,--so you get out o' my way!" + +"S'pose you go!" repeated Adam. + +"Get out o' my way,--d'ye hear?" + +"Because," Adam went on, "if ye don't go, Mister Grimes, the 'Old Adam' +be arising inside o' me to that degree as I shall be forced to ketch you +by the collar o' your jacket, and--heave you out, Mr. Grimes, sir,--so +s'pose you go." + +Hereupon Mr. Grimes rose, put on his hat, and muttering to himself, +stamped indignantly from the room, and Adam, shutting the door upon him, +turned to Miss Anthea, who stood white-lipped and dry-eyed, while gentle +little Miss Priscilla fondled her listless hand. + +"Don't,--don't look that way, Miss Anthea," said Adam. "I'd rayther see +you cry, than look so. It be 'ard to 'ave to let the old place +go, but--" + +"Heave ahead, Shipmate!" whispered Bellew. + +Obedient to his command Small Porges, with his burden upon his back, ran +forward, and stumbled into the room. + +"It's all right, Auntie Anthea!" he cried, "I've got the fortune for +you,--I've found the money I prayed for,--here it is, oh!--here it is!" + +The sack fell jingling to the floor, and, next moment, he had poured a +heap of shining gold and crumpled banknotes at Anthea's feet. + +For a moment no one moved, then, with a strange hoarse cry, Adam had +flung himself down upon his knees, and caught up a great handful of the +gold; then while Miss Priscilla sobbed with her arms about Small Porges, +and Anthea stared down at the treasure, wide-eyed, and with her hands +pressed down upon her heart, Adam gave a sudden, great laugh, and +springing up, came running out through the window, never spying Bellew +in his haste, and shouting as he ran: + +"Grimes!" he roared, "Oh! Grimes, come back an' be paid. Come +back--we've had our little joke wi' you,--now come back an' be paid!" + +Then, at last, Anthea's stony calm was broken, her bosom heaved with +tempestuous sobs, and, next moment, she had thrown herself upon her +knees, and had clasped her arms about Small Porges and Aunt Priscilla, +mingling kisses with her tears. As for Bellew, he turned away, and, +treading a familiar path, found himself beneath the shadow of "King +Arthur." Therefore, he sat down, and lighting his pipe, stared up at the +glory of the full-orbed moon. + +"Happiness," said he, speaking his thought aloud, "'Happiness shall come +riding astride the full moon!' Now--I wonder!" + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +_In which is verified the adage of the cup and the lip_. + +Now as he sat thus, plunged in thought, he heard the voice of one who +approached intoning a familiar chant, or refrain,--the voice was harsh, +albeit not unmusical, and the words of the chant were these: + + "When I am dead, diddle diddle, as well may hap, + Bury me deep, diddle diddle, under the tap, + Under the tap, diddle diddle, I'll tell you--" + +"Lord!" exclaimed the singer, breaking off suddenly, "be that you, Mr. +Belloo, sir?" + +"Yea, in good sooth, Adam, the very same,--but you sing, Adam?" + +"Ah!--I sing, Mr. Belloo, sir, an' if you ax me why, then I tell you +because I be 'appy-'earted an' full o' j-o-y, j'y, sir. The mortgage be +paid off at last, Mr. Belloo, sir,--Miss Anthea be out o' debt,--free, +sir,--an' all along o' Master Georgy, God bless him!" + +"Oh!" said Bellew, "--er--that's good!" + +"Good!" exclaimed Adam, "Ah, Mr. Belloo sir! it be more than good,--it's +saved Miss Anthea's home for her, and--betwixt you an' me, sir,--I think +it's saved her too. An' it be all along o' that Master Georgy! Lord sir! +many's the time as I've watched that theer blessed b'y a-seekin', an' +a-searchin', a pokin' an' a pryin' round the place a-lookin' for 'is +fortun',--but, Lord bless my eyes an' limbs, sir!--I never thought as +he'd find nothin'." + +"Why, of course not, Adam." + +"Ah!--but that's jest where I were mistook, Mr. Belloo, sir,--because 'e +did." + +"Did what, Adam?" + +"Found the fortun' as he were always a-lookin' for,--a sack o' golden +soverings, sir, an' bank-notes, Mr. Belloo, sir,--bushels on 'em; +enough--ah! more 'n enough to pay off that mortgage, and to send that +theer old Grimes about his business,--an' away from Dapplemere for good +an' all, sir." + +"So Grimes is really paid off, then, is he, Adam?" + +"I done it myself, sir,--wi' these here two 'ands,--Three thousand pound +I counted over to him, an' five hundred more--in banknotes, sir, while +Miss Anthea sat by like one in a dream. Altogether there were five +thousand pound as that blessed b'y dug up out o' the orchard--done up +all in a pertater sack, under this very i-dentical tree as you'm a +set-tin' under Mr. Belloo sir. E'cod, I be half minded to take a shovel +and have a try at fortun'-huntin' myself,--only there ain't much chance +o' findin' another, hereabouts; besides--that b'y prayed for that +fortun', ah! long, an' hard he prayed, Mr. Belloo sir, an'--'twixt you +an' me, sir, I ain't been much of a pray-er myself since my old mother +died. Anyhow, the mortgage be paid off, sir, Miss Anthea's free, an' +'tis joy'ful, an' 'appy-'earted I be this night. Prudence an' me'll be +gettin' married soon now,--an' when I think of her cookin'--Lord, Mr. +Belloo sir!--All as I say is God bless Master Georgy! Good-night, sir! +an' may your dreams be as 'appy as mine,--always supposin' I do dream, +--which is seldom. Good-night, sir!" + +Long after Adam's cheery whistle had died away, Bellew sat, pipe in +mouth, staring up at the moon. At length, however, he rose, and turned +his steps towards the house. + +"Mr. Bellew!" + +He started, and turning, saw Anthea standing amid her roses. For a +moment they looked upon each other in silence, as though each dreaded to +speak, then suddenly, she turned, and broke a great rose from its stem, +and stood twisting it between her fingers. + +"Why did you--do it?" she asked. + +"Do it?" he repeated. + +"I mean the--fortune. Georgy told me--how you--helped him to find it, +and I--_know_ how it came there, of course. Why did you--do it?" + +"You didn't tell him--how it came there?" asked Bellew anxiously. + +"No," she answered, "I think it would break his heart--if he knew." + +"And I think it would have broken his heart if he had never found it," +said Bellew, "and I couldn't let that happen, could I?" Anthea did not +answer, and he saw that her eyes were very bright in the shadow of her +lashes though she kept them lowered to the rose in her fingers. + +"Anthea!" said he, suddenly, and reached out his hand to her. But she +started and drew from his touch. + +"Don't!" she said, speaking almost in a whisper, "don't touch me. Oh! I +know you have paid off the mortgage--you have bought back my home for me +as you bought back my furniture! Why?--why? I was nothing to you, or you +to me,--why have you laid me under this obligation,--you know I can +never hope to return your money--oh! why,--why did you do it?" + +"Because I--love you, Anthea, have loved you from the first. Because +everything I possess in this world is yours--even as I am." + +"You forget!" she broke in proudly, "you forget--" + +"Everything but my love for you, Anthea,--everything but that I want you +for my wife. I'm not much of a fellow, I know, but--could you learn +to--love me enough to--marry me--some day, Anthea?" + +"Would you have--dared to say this to me--before to-night?--before your +money had bought back the roof over my head? Oh! haven't I been +humiliated enough? You--you have taken from me the only thing I had +left--my independence,--stolen it from me! Oh! hadn't I been +shamed enough?" + +Now, as she spoke, she saw that his eyes were grown suddenly big and +fierce, and, in that moment, her hands were caught in his +powerful clasp. + +"Let me go!" she cried. + +"No," said he, shaking his head, "not until you tell me if you--love me. +Speak, Anthea." + +"Loose my hands!" She threw up her head proudly, and her eyes gleamed, +and her cheeks flamed with sudden anger. "Loose me!" she repeated. But +Bellew only shook his head, and his chin seemed rather more prominent +than usual, as he answered: + +"Tell me that you love me, or that you hate me--whichever it is, but, +until you do--" + +"You--hurt me!" said she, and then, as his fingers relaxed,--with a +sudden passionate cry, she had broken free; but, even so, he had caught +and swept her up in his arms, and held her close against his breast. And +now, feeling the hopelessness of further struggle, she lay passive, +while her eyes flamed up into his, and his eyes looked down into hers. +Her long, thick hair had come loose, and now with a sudden, quick +gesture, she drew it across her face, veiling it from him; wherefore, he +stooped his head above those lustrous tresses. + +"Anthea!" he murmured, and the masterful voice was strangely hesitating, +and the masterful arms about her were wonderfully gentle, "Anthea--do +you--love me?" Lower he bent, and lower, until his lips touched her +hair, until beneath that fragrant veil, his mouth sought, and found, +hers, and, in that breathless moment, he felt them quiver responsive to +his caress. And then, he had set her down, she was free, and he was +looking at her with a new-found radiance in his eyes. + +"Anthea!" he said, wonderingly, "why then--you do--?" But, as he spoke, +she hid her face in her hands. + +"Anthea!" he repeated. + +"Oh!" she whispered, "I--hate you!--despise you! Oh! you shall be paid +back,--every penny,--every farthing, and--very soon! Next week--I marry +Mr. Cassilis!" + +And so, she turned, and fled away, and left him standing there amid the +roses. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +_Which tells how Bellew left Dapplemere in the dawn_ + +Far in the East a grey streak marked the advent of another day, and upon +all things was a solemn hush, a great, and awful stillness that was like +the stillness of Death. The Earth was a place of gloom, and mist, where +spectral shadows writhed, and twisted, and flitted under a frowning +heaven, and out of the gloom there came a breath, sharp, and damp, and +exceeding chill. + +Therefore, as Bellew gazed down from the frowning Heaven to the gloom of +Earth, below, with its ever-moving, misty shapes, he shivered +involuntarily. + +In another hour it would be day, and with the day, the gates of Arcadia +would open for his departure, and he must go forth to become once more a +wanderer, going up and down, and to and fro in the world until his +course was run. + +And yet it was worth having lived for, this one golden month, and in all +his wanderings needs must he carry with him the memory of her who had +taught him how deep and high, how wide and infinitely far-reaching that +thing called "Love" may really be. + +And--Porges!--dear, quaint, Small Porges! where under heaven could he +ever find again such utter faith, such pure unaffected loyalty and +devotion as throbbed within that small, warm heart? How could he ever +bid "Good-bye" to loving, eager, little Small Porges? + +And then there was Miss Priscilla, and the strong, gentle Sergeant, and +Peterday, and sturdy Adam, and Prudence, and the rosy-cheeked maids. How +well they all suited this wonderful Arcadia! Yes, indeed he, and he +only, had been out of place, and so--he must go--back to the every-day, +matter-of-fact world, but how could he ever say "Good-bye" to faithful, +loving Small Porges? + +Far in the East the grey streak had brightened, and broadened, and was +already tinged with a faint pink that deepened, and deepened, as he +watched. Bellew had seen the glory of many a sun-rise in divers wild +places of the Earth, and, hitherto, had always felt deep within him, the +responsive thrill, the exhilaration of hope new born, and joyful +expectation of the great, unknown Future. But now, he watched the +varying hues of pink, and scarlet, and saffron, and gold, with gloomy +brow, and sombre eyes. + +Now presently, the Black-bird who lived in the apple-tree beneath his +window, (the tree of the inquisitive turn of mind), this Black-bird +fellow, opening a drowsy eye, must needs give vent to a croak, very +hoarse and feeble; then, (apparently having yawned prodigiously and +stretched himself, wing, and leg), he tried a couple of notes,--in a +hesitating, tentative sort of fashion, shook himself,--repeated the two +notes,--tried three, found them mellower, and more what the waiting +world very justly expected of him; grew more confident; tried four; +tried five,--grew perfectly assured, and so burst forth into the full, +golden melody of his morning song. + +Then Bellew, leaning out from his casement, as the first bright beams of +the rising sun gilded the top-most leaves of the tree, thus +apostrophised the unseen singer: + +"I suppose you will be piping away down in your tree there, old fellow, +long after Arcadia has faded out of my life. Well, it will be only +natural, and perfectly right, of course,--She will be here, and may, +perhaps, stop to listen to you. Now if, somehow, you could manage to +compose for me a Song of Memory, some evening when I'm gone,--some +evening when She happens to be sitting idle, and watching the moon rise +over the upland yonder; if, at such a time, you could just manage to +remind her of--me, why--I'd thank you. And so,--Good-bye, old fellow!" + +Saying which, Bellew turned from the window, and took up a certain +bulging, be-strapped portmanteau, while the Black-bird, (having, +evidently, hearkened to his request with much grave attention), fell a +singing more gloriously than ever. + +Meanwhile, Bellew descended the great, wide stair, soft of foot, and +cautious of step, yet pausing once to look towards a certain closed +door, and so, presently let himself quietly out into the dawn. The dew +sparkled in the grass, it hung in glittering jewels from every leaf, and +twig, while, now and then, a shining drop would fall upon him as he +passed, like a great tear. + +Now, as he reached the orchard, up rose the sun in all his majesty +filling the world with the splendour of his coming,--before whose kindly +beams the skulking mists and shadows shrank affrighted, and fled +utterly away. + +This morning, "King Arthur" wore his grandest robes of state, for his +mantle of green was thick sewn with a myriad flaming gems; very +different he looked from that dark, shrouded giant who had so lately +been Conspirator No. Two. Yet, perhaps for this very reason, Bellew +paused to lay a hand upon his mighty, rugged hole, and, doing so, turned +and looked back at the House of Dapplemere. + +And truly never had the old house seemed so beautiful, so quaint, and +peaceful as now. It's every stone and beam had become familiar and, as +he looked, seemed to find an individuality of its own, the very lattices +seemed to look back at him, like so many wistful eyes. + +Therefore George Bellew, American Citizen, millionaire, traveller, +explorer, and--LOVER, sighed as he turned away,--sighed as he strode on +through the green and golden morning, and resolutely--looked back +no more. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +_Of the moon's message to Small Porges, and how he told it to Bellew--in +a whisper_ + +Bellew walked on at a good pace with his back turned resolutely towards +the House of Dapplemere, and thus, as he swung into that narrow, grassy +lane that wound away between trees, he was much surprised to hear a +distant hail. Facing sharp about he espied a diminutive figure whose +small legs trotted very fast, and whose small fist waved a +weather-beaten cap. + +Bellew's first impulse was to turn, and run. But Bellew rarely acted on +impulse; therefore, he set down the bulging portmanteau, seated himself +upon it, and taking out pipe and tobacco, waited for his pursuer to +come up. + +"Oh Uncle Porges!" panted a voice, "you did walk so awful fast, an' I +called, an' called, but you never heard. An' now, please,--where are +you going?" + +"Going," said Bellew, searching through his pockets for a match, "going, +my Porges, why--er--for a stroll, to be sure,--just a walk before +breakfast, you know." + +"But then--why have you brought your bag?" + +"Bag!" repeated Bellew, stooping down to look at it, "why--so--I have!" + +"Please--why?" persisted Small Porges, suddenly anxious. "Why did +you--bring it?" + +"Well, I expect it was to--er--to bear me company. But how is it you are +out so very early, my Porges?" + +"Why, I couldn't sleep, last night, you know, 'cause I kept on thinking, +and thinking 'bout the fortune. So I got up--in the middle of the night, +an' dressed myself, an' sat in the big chair by the window, an' looked +at the Money Moon. An' I stared at it, an' stared at it till a wonderful +thing happened,--an' what do you s'pose?" + +"I don't know." + +"Well,--all at once, while I stared up at it, the moon changed itself +into a great, big face; but I didn't mind a bit, 'cause it was a very +nice sort of face,--rather like a gnome's face, only without the beard, +you know. An' while I looked at it, it talked to me, an' it told me a +lot of things,--an' that's how I know that you are--going away, 'cause +you are, you know,--aren't you?" + +"Why, my Porges," said Bellew, fumbling with his pipe, "why Shipmate, +I--since you ask me--I am." + +"Yes, I was 'fraid the moon was right," said Small Porges, and turned +away. But Bellew had seen the stricken look in his eyes, therefore he +took Small Porges in the circle of his big arm, and holding him thus, +explained to him how that in this great world each of us must walk his +appointed way, and that there must, and always will be, partings, but +that also there must and always shall be, meetings: + +"And so, my Porges, if we have to say 'Good-bye' now,--the sooner we +shall meet again,--some day--somewhere." + +But Small Porges only sighed, and shook his head in hopeless dejection. + +"Does--she--know you're going,--I mean my Auntie Anthea?" + +"Oh yes, she knows, Porges." + +"Then I s'pose that's why she was crying so, in the night--" + +"Crying?" + +"Yes;--she's cried an awful lot lately, hasn't she? Last night,--when I +woke up, you know, an' couldn't sleep, I went into her room, an' she was +crying--with her face hidden in the pillow, an' her hair all +about her--" + +"Crying!" + +"Yes; an' she said she wished she was dead. So then, a course, I tried +to comfort her, you know. An' she said 'I'm a dreadful failure, Georgy +dear, with the farm, an' everything else. I've tried to be a father and +mother to you, an' I've failed in that too,--so now, I'm going to give +you a real father,'--an' she told me she was going to marry--Mr. +Cassilis. But I said 'No'--'cause I'd 'ranged for her to marry you an' +live happy ever after. But she got awful angry again an' said she'd +never marry you if you were the last man in the world--'cause she +'spised you so--" + +"And that would seem to--settle it!" nodded Bellew gloomily, "so it's +'Good-bye' my Porges! We may as well shake hands now, and get it over," +and Bellew rose from the portmanteau, and sighing, held out his hand. + +"Oh!--but wait a minute!" cried Small Porges eagerly, "I haven't told +you what the Moon said to me, last night--" + +"Ah!--to be sure, we were forgetting that!" said Bellew with an absent +look, and a trifle wearily. + +"Why then--please sit down again, so I can speak into your ear, 'cause +what the Moon told me to tell you was a secret, you know." + +So, perforce, Bellew re-seated himself upon his portmanteau, and drawing +Small Porges close, bent his head down to the anxious little face; and +so, Small Porges told him exactly what the Moon had said. And the Moon's +message, (whatever it was), seemed to be very short, and concise, (as +all really important messages should be); but these few words had a +wondrous, and magical effect upon George Bellew. For a moment he stared +wide-eyed at Small Porges like one awaking from a dream, then the gloom +vanished from his brow, and he sprang to his feet. And, being upon his +feet, he smote his clenched fist down into the palm of his hand with a +resounding smack. + +"By heaven!" he exclaimed, and took a turn to and fro across the width +of the lane, and seeing Small Porges watching him, caught him suddenly +up in his arms, and hugged him. + +"And the moon will be at the full, tonight!" said he. Thereafter he sat +him down upon his portmanteau again, with Small Porges upon his knee, +and they talked confidentially together with their heads very close +together and in muffled tones. + +When, at last, Bellew rose, his eyes were bright and eager, and his +square chin, prominent, and grimly resolute. + +"So--you quite understand, my Porges?" + +"Yes, yes--Oh I understand!" + +"Where the little bridge spans the brook,--the trees are thicker, +there." + +"Aye aye, Captain!" + +"Then--fare thee well, Shipmate! Goodbye, my Porges,--and remember!" + +So they clasped hands, very solemnly, Big Porges, and Small Porges, and +turned each his appointed way, the one up, the other down, the lane. But +lo! as they went Small Porges' tears were banished quite; and Bellew +strode upon his way, his head held high, his shoulders squared, like one +in whom Hope has been newborn. + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +_How Anthea gave her promise_ + +"And so--he--has really gone!" Miss Priscilla sighed as she spoke, and +looked up from her needle-work to watch Anthea who sat biting her pen, +and frowning down at the blank sheet of paper before her. "And so, he +is--really--gone?" + +"Who--Mr. Bellew? Oh yes!" + +"He went--very early!" + +"Yes." + +"And--without any breakfast!" + +"That was--his own fault!" said Anthea. + +"And without even--saying 'Good-bye'!" + +"Perhaps he was in a hurry," Anthea suggested. + +"Oh dear me, no my dear! I don't believe Mr. Bellew was ever in a hurry +in all his life." + +"No," said Anthea, giving her pen a vicious bite, "I don't believe he +ever was; he is always so--hatefully placid, and deliberate!" and here, +she bit her pen again. + +"Eh, my dear?" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, pausing with her needle in +mid-air, "did you say--hatefully?" + +"Yes." + +"Anthea!" + +"I--hate him, Aunt Priscilla!" + +"Eh?--My dear!" + +"That was why I--sent him away." + +"You--sent him away?" + +"Yes." + +"But--Anthea--why?" + +"Oh Aunt Priscilla!--surely you never--believed in the--fortune? Surely +you guessed it was--_his_ money that paid back the mortgage,--didn't +you, Aunt,--didn't you?" + +"Well, my dear--. But then--he did it so very--tactfully, and--and--I +had hoped, my dear that--" + +"That I should--marry him, and settle the obligation that way, perhaps?" + +"Well, yes my dear, I did hope so--" + +"Oh!--I'm going to marry--" + +"Then why did you send--" + +"I'm going to marry Mr. Cassilis--whenever he pleases!" + +"Anthea!" The word was a cry, and her needle-work slipped from Miss +Priscilla's nerveless fingers. + +"He asked me to write and tell him if ever I changed my mind--" + +"Oh--my dear! my dear!" cried Miss Priscilla reaching out imploring +hands, "you never mean it,--you are all distraught to-day--tired, and +worn out with worry, and loss of sleep,--wait!" + +"Wait!" repeated Anthea bitterly, "for what?" + +"To--marry--him! O Anthea! you never mean it? Think,--think what you are +doing." + +"I thought of it all last night, Aunt Priscilla, and all this morning, +and--I have made up my mind." + +"You mean to write--?" + +"Yes." + +"To tell Mr. Cassilis that you will--marry him?" + +"Yes." + +But now Miss Priscilla rose, and, next moment, was kneeling beside +Anthea's chair. + +"Oh my dear!" she pleaded, "you that I love like my own flesh and +blood,--don't! Oh Anthea! don't do what can never be undone. Don't give +your youth and beauty to one who can never--never make you happy,--Oh +Anthea--!" + +"Dear Aunt Priscilla, I would rather marry one I don't love than have to +live beholden all my days to a man that I--hate!" Now, as she spoke, +though her embrace was as ready, and her hands as gentle as ever, yet +Miss Priscilla saw that her proud face was set, and stern. So, she +presently rose, sighing, and taking her little crutch stick, tapped +dolefully away, and left Anthea to write her letter. + +And now, hesitating no more, Anthea took up her pen, and wrote,--surely +a very short missive for a love-letter. And, when she had folded, and +sealed it, she tossed it aside, and laying her arms upon the table, hid +her face, with a long, shuddering sigh. + +In a little while, she rose, and taking up the letter, went out to find +Adam; but remembering that he had gone to Cranbrook with Small Porges, +she paused irresolute, and then turned her steps toward the orchard. +Hearing voices, she stopped again, and glancing about, espied the +Sergeant, and Miss Priscilla. She had given both her hands into the +Sergeant's one, great, solitary fist, and he was looking down at her, +and she was looking up at him, and upon the face of each, was a great +and shining joy. + +And, seeing all this, Anthea felt herself very lonely all at once, and, +turning aside, saw all things through a blur of sudden tears. She was +possessed, also, of a sudden, fierce loathing of the future, a horror +because of the promise her letter contained. Nevertheless she was firm, +and resolute on her course because of the pride that burned within her. + +So thus it was that as the Sergeant presently came striding along on his +homeward way, he was suddenly aware of Miss Anthea standing before him; +whereupon he halted, and removing his hat, wished her a +"good-afternoon!" + +"Sergeant," said she, "will you do something for me?" + +"Anything you ask me, Miss Anthea, mam,--ever and always." + +"I want you to take this letter to--Mr. Cassilis,--will you?" + +The Sergeant hesitated unwontedly, turning his hat about and about in +his hand, finally he put it on, out of the way. + +"Will you, Sergeant?" + +"Since you ask me--Miss Anthea mam--I will." + +"Give it into his own hand." + +"Miss Anthea mam--I will." + +"Thank you!--here it is, Sergeant." And so she turned, and was gone, +leaving the Sergeant staring down at the letter in his hand, and shaking +his head over it. + +Anthea walked on hastily, never looking behind, and so, coming back to +the house, threw herself down by the open window, and stared out with +unseeing eyes at the roses nodding slumberous heads in the +gentle breeze. + +So the irrevocable step was taken! She had given her promise to marry +Cassilis whenever he would, and must abide by it! Too late now, any hope +of retreat, she had deliberately chosen her course, and must follow +it--to the end. + +"Begging your pardon, Miss Anthea mam--!" + +She started, and glancing round, espied Adam. + +"Oh!--you startled me, Adam,--what is it?" + +"Begging your pardon, Miss Anthea, but is it true as Mr. Belloo be gone +away--for good?" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"Why then all I can say is--as I'm sorry,--ah! mortal sorry I be, an' my +'eart, mam, my 'eart likewise gloomy." + +"Were you so--fond of him, Adam?" + +"Well, Miss Anthea,--considering as he were--the best, good-naturedest, +properest kind o' gentleman as ever was; when I tell you as over an' +above all this, he could use his fists better than any man as ever I +see,--him having knocked me into a dry ditch, though, to be sure I +likewise drawed his claret,--begging your pardon, I'm sure, Miss Anthea; +all of which happened on account o' me finding him a-sleeping in your +'ay, mam;--when I tell you furthermore, as he treated me ever as a man, +an' wern't noways above shaking my 'and, or smoking a pipe wi' +me--sociable like; when I tell you as he were the finest gentleman, and +properest man as ever I knowed, or heard tell on,--why, I think as the +word 'fond' be about the size of it, Miss Anthea mam!" saying which, +Adam nodded several times, and bestowed an emphatic backhanded knock to +the crown of his hat. + +"You used to sit together very often--under the big apple tree, didn't +you, Adam?" + +"Ah!--many an' many a night, Miss Anthea." + +"Did he--ever tell you--much of his--life, Adam?" + +"Why yes, Miss Anthea,--told me summat about his travels, told me as +he'd shot lions, an' tigers--away out in India, an' Africa." + +"Did he ever mention--" + +"Well, Miss Anthea?" said he enquiringly, seeing she had paused. + +"Did he ever speak of--the--lady he is going to marry?" + +"Lady?" repeated Adam, giving a sudden twist to his hat. + +"Yes,--the lady--who lives in London?" + +"No, Miss Anthea," answered Adam, screwing his hat tighter, and tighter. + +"Why--what do you mean?" + +"I mean--as there never was no lady, Miss Anthea,--neither up to Lonnon, +nor nowhere's else, as I ever heard on." + +"But--oh Adam!--you--told me--" + +"Ah!--for sure I told ye, but it were a lie, Miss Anthea,--leastways, it +weren't the truth. Ye see, I were afraid as you'd refuse to take the +money for the furnitur' unless I made ye believe as he wanted it +uncommon bad. So I up an' told ye as he'd bought it all on account o' +him being matrimonially took wi' a young lady up to Lonnon--" + +"And then--you went to--him, and warned him--told him of the story you +had invented?" + +"I did, Miss Anthea; at first, I thought as he were going to up an' give +me one for myself, but, arterwards he took it very quiet, an' told me as +I'd done quite right, an' agreed to play the game. An' that's all about +it, an' glad I am as it be off my mind at last. Ah' now, Miss Anthea +mam, seeing you're that rich--wi' Master Georgy's fortun',--why you can +pay back for the furnitur'--if so be you're minded to. An' I hope as you +agree wi' me as I done it all for the best, Miss Anthea?" + +Here, Adam unscrewed his hat, and knocked out the wrinkles against his +knee, which done, he glanced at Anthea: + +"Why--what is it, Miss Anthea?" + +"Nothing, Adam,--I haven't slept well, lately--that's all" + +"Ah, well!--you'll be all right again now,--we all shall,--now the +mortgage be paid off,--shan't we, Miss Anthea?" + +"Yes, Adam." + +"We 'ad a great day--over to Cranbrook, Master Georgy an' me, he be in +the kitchen now, wi' Prudence--a-eating of bread an' jam. Good-night, +Miss Anthea mam, if you should be wanting me again I shall be in the +stables,--Good-night, Miss Anthea!" So, honest, well-meaning Adam +touched his forehead with a square-ended finger, and trudged away. But +Anthea sat there, very still, with drooping head, and vacant eyes. + +And so it was done, the irrevocable step had been taken; she had given +her promise! So now, having chosen her course, she must follow +it--to the end. + +For, in Arcadia, it would seem that a promise is still a sacred thing. + +Now, in a while, lifting her eyes, they encountered those of the smiling +Cavalier above the mantel. Then, as she looked, she stretched out her +arms with a sudden yearning gesture: + +"Oh!" she whispered, "if I were only--just a picture, like you." + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +_Which, being the last, is, very properly, the longest in the book_ + +In those benighted days when men went abroad cased in steel, and, upon +very slight provocation, were wont to smite each other with axes, and +clubs, to buffet and skewer each other with spears, lances, swords, and +divers other barbarous engines, yet, in that dark, and doughty age, +ignorant though they were of all those smug maxims, and excellent +moralities with which we are so happily blessed,--even in that +unhallowed day, when the solemn tread of the policeman's foot was all +unknown,--they had evolved for themselves a code of rules whereby to +govern their life, and conduct. Amongst these, it was tacitly agreed +upon, and understood, that a spoken promise was a pledge, and held to be +a very sacred thing, and he who broke faith, committed all the cardinal +sins. Indeed their laws were very few, and simple, easily understood, +and well calculated to govern man's conduct to his fellow. In this day +of ours, ablaze with learning, and culture,--veneered with a fine +civilization, our laws are complex beyond all knowing and expression; +man regulates his conduct--to them,--and is as virtuous, and honest as +the law compels him to be. + +This is the age of Money, and, therefore, an irreverent age; it is also +the age of Respectability (with a very large R),--and the +policeman's bludgeon. + +But in Arcadia--because it is an old-world place where life follows an +even, simple course, where money is as scarce as roguery, the old law +still holds; a promise once given, is a sacred obligation, and not to be +set aside. + +Even the Black-bird, who lived in the inquisitive apple tree, +understood, and was aware of this, it had been born in him, and had +grown with his feathers. Therefore,--though, to be sure, he had spoken +no promise, signed no bond, nor affixed his mark to any agreement, still +he had, nevertheless, borne in mind a certain request preferred to him +when the day was very young. Thus, with a constancy of purpose worthy of +all imitation, he had given all his mind, and thought, to the +composition of a song with a new theme. He had applied himself to it +most industriously all day long, and now, as the sun began to set, he +had at last corked it all out,--every note, every quaver, and trill; +and, perched upon a look-out branch, he kept his bold, bright eye turned +toward a certain rustic seat hard by, uttering a melodious note or two, +every now and then, from pure impatience. + +And presently, sure enough, he spied her for whom he waited,--the tall, +long limbed, supple-waisted creature--whose skin was pink and gold like +the peaches and apricots in the garden, and with soft, little rings of +hair that would have made such an excellent lining to a nest. From this +strictly utilitarian point of view he had often admired her hair, (had +this Black-bird fellow), as she passed to and fro among her flowers, or +paused to look up at him and listen to his song, or even sometimes to +speak to him in her sweet, low voice. + +But to-day she seemed to have forgotten him altogether, she did not even +glance his way, indeed she walked with bent head, and seemed to keep her +eyes always upon the ground. + +Therefore the black-bird hopped a little further along the branch, and +peered over to look down at her with first one round eye, and then the +other, as she sank upon the seat, near by, and leaned her head wearily +against the great tree, behind. And thus he saw, upon the pint and gold +of her cheek, something that shone, and twinkled like a drop of dew. + +If the Black-bird wondered at this, and was inclined to be curious, he +sturdily repressed the weakness,--for here was the audience--seated, +and waiting--all expectation for him to begin. + +So, without more ado, he settled himself upon the bough, lifted his +head, stretched his throat, and, from his yellow bill, poured forth a +flood of golden melody as he burst forth into his "Song of Memory." + +And what a song it was!--so full of passionate entreaty, of tender +pleading, of haunting sweetness, that, as she listened, the bright drop +quivering upon her lashes, fell and was succeeded by another, and +another. Nor did she attempt to check them, or wipe them away, only she +sat and listened with her heavy head pillowed against the great tree, +while the Blackbird, glancing down at her every now and then with +critical eye to mark the effect of some particularly difficult passage, +piped surely as he had never done before, until the listener's proud +face sank lower and lower, and was, at last, hidden in her hands. Seeing +which, the Black-bird, like the true artist he was, fearing an +anti-climax, very presently ended his song with a long-drawn, +plaintive note. + +But Anthea sat there with her proud head bowed low, long after he had +retired for the night. And the sun went down, and the shadows came +creeping stealthily about her, and the moon began to rise, big and +yellow, over the up-land; but Anthea still sat there with her head, once +more resting wearily against "King Arthur," watching the deepening +shadows until she was roused by Small Porges' hand upon hers and his +voice saying: + +"Why,--I do believe you're crying, Auntie Anthea, an' why are you +here--all alone, an' by yourself?" + +"I was listening to the Black-bird, dear,--I never heard him sing quite +so--beautifully, before." + +"But black-birds don't make people cry,--an' I know you've been +crying--'cause you sound--all quivery, you know." + +"Do I, Georgy?" + +"Yes,--is it 'cause you feel--lonely?" + +"Yes dear." + +"You've cried an awful lot, lately, Auntie Anthea." + +"Have I, dear?" + +"Yes,--an' it--worries me, you know." + +"I'm afraid I've been a great responsibility to you, Georgy dear," said +she with a rueful little laugh. + +"'Fraid you have; but I don' mind the 'sponsibility,--'I'll always take +care of you, you know!" nodded Small Porges, sitting down, the better to +get his arm protectingly about her, while Anthea stooped to kiss the top +of his curly head. "I promised my Uncle Porges I'd always take care of +you, an' so I will!" + +"Yes, dear." + +"Uncle Porges told me--" + +"Never mind, dear,--don' let's talk of--him." + +"Do you still--hate him, then, Auntie Anthea?" + +"Hush, dear!--it's very wrong to--hate people." + +"Yes, a course it is! Then--perhaps, if you don't hate him any more--you +like him a bit,--jest a--teeny bit, you know?" + +"Why--there's the clock striking half-past eight, Georgy!" + +"Yes, I hear it,--but--do you,--the teeniest bit? Oh! can't you like him +jest a bit--for my sake, Auntie Anthea? I'm always trying to please +you,--an' I found you the fortune, you know, so now I want you to please +me,--an' tell me you like him--for my sake." + +"But--Oh Georgy dear!--you don't understand." + +"--'cause you see," Small Porges, continued, "after all, I found him for +you--under a hedge, you know--" + +"Ah!--why did you, Georgy dear? We were so happy--before--he came--" + +"But you couldn't have been, you know; you weren't married--even then, +so you couldn't have been really happy, you know;" said Small Porges +shaking his head. + +"Why Georgy--what do you mean?" + +"Well, Uncle Porges told me that nobody can live happy--ever after, +unless they're married--first. So that was why I 'ranged for him to +marry you, so you could _both_ be happy, an' all revelry an' joy,--like +the fairy tale, you know." + +"But, you see, we aren't in a fairy tale, dear, so I'm afraid we must +make the best of things as they are!" and here she sighed again, and +rose. "Come, Georgy, it's much later than I thought, and quite time you +were in bed, dear." + +"All right, Auntie Anthea,--only--don't you think it's jest a bit--cruel +to send a boy to bed so very early, an' when the moon's so big, an' +everything looks so--frightfully fine? 'sides--" + +"Well, what now?" she asked, a little wearily as, obedient to his +pleading gesture, she sat down again. + +"Why, you haven't answered my question yet, you know." + +"What question?" said she, not looking at him. + +"'Bout my--Uncle Porges." + +"But Georgy--I--" + +"You do like him--jest a bit--don't you?--please?" Small Porges was +standing before her as he waited for her answer, but now, seeing how she +hesitated, and avoided his eyes, he put one small hand beneath the +dimple in her chin, so that she was forced to look at him. + +"You do, please,--don't you?" he pleaded. + +Anthea hesitated; but, after all,--_He_ was gone, and nobody could hear; +and Small Porges was so very small; and who could resist the entreaty in +his big, wistful eyes? surely not Anthea. Therefore, with a sudden +gesture of abandonment, she leaned forward in his embrace, and rested +her weary head against his manly, small shoulder: + +"Yes!" she whispered. + +"Jest as much as you like--Mr. Cassilis?" he whispered back. + +"Yes!" + +"A--bit more--jest a teeny bit more?" + +"Yes!" + +"A--lot more,--lots an' lots,--oceans more?" + +"Yes!" + +The word was spoken, and, having uttered it, Anthea grew suddenly hot +with shame, and mightily angry with herself, and would, straightway, +have given the world to have it unsaid; the more so, as she felt Small +Porges' clasp tighten joyfully, and, looking up, fancied she read +something like triumph in his look. + +She drew away from him, rather hastily, and rose to her feet. + +"Come!" said she, speaking now in a vastly different tone, "it must be +getting very late--" + +"Yes, I s'pecks it'll soon be nine o'clock, now!" he nodded. + +"Then you ought to be in bed, fast asleep instead of talking +such--nonsense, out here. So--come along--at once, sir!" + +"But, can't I stay up--jest a little while? You see--" + +"No!" + +"You see, it's such a--magnif'cent night! It feels as though--things +might happen!" + +"Don't be so silly!" + +"Well, but it does, you know." + +"What do you mean--what things?" + +"Well, it feels--gnomy, to me. I s'pecks there's lots of elves +about--hidden in the shadows, you know, an' peeping at us." + +"There aren't any elves,--or gnomes," said Anthea petulantly, for she +was still furiously angry with herself. + +"But my Uncle Porges told me--" + +"Oh!" cried Anthea, stamping her foot suddenly, "can't you talk of +anyone, or anything but--him? I'm tired to death of him and his +very name!" + +"But I thought you liked him--an awful lot, an'--" + +"Well, I don't!" + +"But, you said--" + +"Never mind what I said! It's time you were in bed asleep,--so come +along--at once, sir!" + +So they went on through the orchard together, very silently, for Small +Porges was inclined to be indignant, but much more inclined to be hurt. +Thus, they had not gone so very far, when he spoke, in a voice that he +would have described as--quivery. + +"Don't you think that you're--just the teeniest bit--cruel to me, Auntie +Anthea?" he enquired wistfully, "after I prayed an' prayed till I found +a fortune for you!--don't you, please?" Surely Anthea was a creature of +moods, to-night, for, even while he spoke, she stopped, and turned, and +fell on her knees, and caught him in her arms, kissing him many times: + +"Yes,--yes, dear, I'm hateful to you,--horrid to you! But I don't mean +to be. There!--forgive me!" + +"Oh!--it's all right again, now, Auntie Anthea, thank you. I only +thought you were jest a bit--hard, 'cause it is such a--magnif'cent +night, isn't it?" + +"Yes dear; and perhaps there are gnomes, and pixies about. Anyhow, we +can pretend there are, if you like, as we used to--" + +"Oh will you? that would be fine! Then, please, may I go with you--as +far as the brook? We'll wander, you know,--I've never wandered with you +in the moonlight,--an' I do love to hear the brook talking to +itself,--so--will you wander--jest this once?" + +"Well," said Anthea, hesitating, "it's very late!--" + +"Nearly nine o 'clock, yes! But Oh!--please don't forget that I found a +fortune for you--" + +"Very well," she smiled, "just this once." + +Now as they went together, hand in hand through the moonlight, Small +Porges talked very fast, and very much at random, while his eyes, +bright, and eager, glanced expectantly towards every patch of +shadow,--doubtless in search of gnomes, and pixies. + +But Anthea saw nothing of this, heard nothing of the suppressed +excitement in his voice, for she was thinking that by now, Mr. Cassilis +had read her letter,--that he might, even then, be on his way to +Dapplemere. She even fancied, once or twice, that she could hear the +gallop of his horse's hoofs. And, when he came, he would want +to--kiss her! + +"Why do you shiver so, Auntie Anthea, are you cold?" + +"No, dear." + +"Well, then, why are you so quiet to me,--I've asked you a +question--three times." + +"Have you dear? I--I was thinking; what was the question?" + +"I was asking you if you would be awful frightened s'posing we did find +a pixie--or a gnome, in the shadows; an' would you be so very awfully +frightened if a gnome--a great, big one, you know,--came jumping out +an'--ran off with you,--should you?" + +"No!" said Anthea, with another shiver, "No, dear,--I think I should +be--rather glad of it!" + +"Should you, Auntie? I'm--so awful glad you wouldn't be frightened. A +course, I don't s'pose there are gnomes--I mean great, big +ones,--really, you know,--but there might be, on a magnif'cent night, +like this. If you shiver again Auntie you'll have to take my coat!" + +"I thought I heard a horse galloping--hush!" + +They had reached the stile, by now, the stile with the crooked, lurking +nail, and she leaned there, a while, to listen. "I'm sure I heard +something,--away there--on the road!" + +"I don't!" said Small Porges, stoutly,--"so take my hand, please, an' +let me 'sist you over the stile." + +So they crossed the stile, and, presently, came to the brook that was +the most impertinent brook in the world. And here, upon the little +rustic bridge, they stopped to look down at the sparkle of the water, +and to listen to its merry voice. + +Yes, indeed to-night it was as impertinent as ever, laughing, and +chuckling to itself among the hollows, and whispering scandalously in +the shadows. It seemed to Anthea that it was laughing at her,--mocking, +and taunting her with--the future. And now, amid the laughter, were +sobs, and tearful murmurs, and now, again, it seemed to be the prophetic +voice of old Nannie: + +"'By force ye shall be wooed and by force ye shall be wed, and there is +no man strong enough to do it, but him as bears the Tiger Mark +upon him!'" + +The "Tiger Mark!" Alas! how very far from the truth were poor, old +Nannie's dreams, after all, the dreams which Anthea had very nearly +believed in--once or twice. How foolish it had all been! And yet +even now-- + +Anthea had been leaning over the gurgling waters while all this passed +through her mind, but now,--she started at the sound of a heavy +foot-fall on the planking of the bridge, behind her, and--in that same +instant, she was encircled by a powerful arm, caught up in a strong +embrace,--swung from her feet, and borne away through the shadows of the +little copse. + +It was very dark in the wood, but she knew, instinctively, whose arms +these were that held her so close, and carried her so easily--away +through the shadows of the wood,--away from the haunting, hopeless dread +of the future from which there had seemed no chance, or hope of escape. + +And, knowing all this, she made no struggle, and uttered no word. And +now the trees thinned out, and, from under her lashes she saw the face +above her; the thick, black brows drawn together,--the close set of the +lips,--the grim prominence of the strong, square chin. + +And now, they were in the road; and now he had lifted her into an +automobile, had sprung in beside her, and--they were off, gliding swift, +and ever swifter, under the shadows of the trees. + +And still neither spoke, nor looked at each other; only she leaned away +from him, against the cushions, while he kept his frowning eyes fixed +upon the road a-head; and ever the great car flew onward faster, and +faster; yet not so fast as the beating of her heart, wherein shame, and +anger, and fear, and--another feeling strove and fought for mastery. + +But at last, finding him so silent, and impassive, she must needs steal +a look at him, beneath her lashes. + +He wore no hat, and as she looked upon him,--with his yellow hair, his +length of limb, and his massive shoulders, he might have been some +fierce Viking, and she, his captive, taken by strength of arm--borne +away by force.--By force! + +And, hereupon, as the car hummed over the smooth road, it seemed to find +a voice,--a subtle, mocking voice, very like the voice of the +brook,--that murmured to her over and over again: + +"By force ye shall be wooed, and by force ye shall be wed." + +The very trees whispered it as they passed, and her heart throbbed in +time to it: + +"By force ye shall be wooed, and by force ye shall be wed!" So, she +leaned as far from him as she might, watching him with frightened eyes +while he frowned ever upon the road in front, and the car rocked, and +swayed with their going, as they whirled onward through moonlight and +through shadow, faster, and faster,--yet not so fast as the beating of +her heart wherein was fear, and shame, and anger, and--another feeling, +but greatest of all now, was fear. Could this be the placid, soft-spoken +gentleman she had known,--this man, with the implacable eyes, and the +brutal jaw, who neither spoke to, nor looked at her, but frowned always +at the road in front. + +And so, the fear grew and grew within her,--fear of the man whom she +knew,--and knew not at all. She clasped her hands nervously together, +watching him with dilating eyes as the car slowed down,--for the road +made a sudden turn, hereabouts. + +And still he neither looked at, nor spoke to her; and therefore, because +she could bear the silence no longer, she spoke--in a voice that sounded +strangely faint, and far-away, and that shook and trembled in spite +of her. + +"Where are you--taking me?" + +"To be married!" he answered, never looking at her. + +"You--wouldn't--dare!" + +"Wait and see!" he nodded. + +"Oh!--but what do--you mean?" The fear in her voice was more manifest +than ever. + +"I mean that you are mine,--you always were, you always must and shall +be. So, I'm going to marry you--in about half-an-hour, by +special license." + +Still he did not even glance towards her, and she looked away over the +country side all lonely and desolate under the moon. + +"I want you, you see," he went on, "I want you more than I ever wanted +anything in this world. I need you, because without you my life will be +utterly purposeless, and empty. So I have taken you--because you are +mine, I know it,--Ah yes! and, deep down in your woman's heart, you know +it too. And so, I am going to marry you,--yes I am, unless--" and here, +he brought the car to a standstill, and turning, looked at her for the +first time. + +And now, before the look in his eyes, her own wavered, and fell, lest he +should read within them that which she would fain hide from him,--and +which she knew they must reveal,--that which was neither shame, nor +anger, nor fear, but the other feeling for which she dared find no name. +And thus, for a long moment, there was silence. + +At last she spoke, though with her eyes still hidden: + +"Unless!" she repeated breathlessly. + +"Anthea,--look at me!" + +But Anthea only drooped her head the lower; wherefore, he leaned +forward, and--even as Small Porges had done,--set his hand beneath the +dimple in her chin, and lifted the proud, un-willing face: + +"Anthea,--look at me!" + +And now, what could Anthea do but obey? + +"Unless," said he, as her glance, at last, met his, "unless you can tell +me--now, as your eyes look into mine,--that you love Cassilis. Tell me +that, and I will take you back, this very instant; and never trouble you +again. But, unless you do tell me that, why then--your Pride shall not +blast two lives, if I can help it. Now speak!" + +But Anthea was silent, also, she would have turned aside from his +searching look, but that his arms were about her, strong, and +compelling. So, needs must she suffer him to look down into her very +heart, for it seemed to her that, in that moment, he had rent away every +stitch, and shred of Pride's enfolding mantle, and that he saw the +truth, at last. + +But, if he had, he gave no sign, only he turned and set the car humming +upon its way, once more. + +On they went through the midsummer night, up hill and down hill, by +cross-road and bye-lane, until, as they climbed a long ascent, they +beheld a tall figure standing upon the top of the hill, in the attitude +of one who waits; and who, spying them, immediately raised a very stiff +left arm, whereupon this figure was joined by another. Now as the car +drew nearer, Anthea, with a thrill of pleasure, recognized the Sergeant +standing very much as though he were on parade, and with honest-faced +Peterday beside him, who stumped joyfully forward, and,--with a bob of +his head, and a scrape of his wooden leg,--held out his hand to her. + +Like one in a dream she took the sailor's hand to step from the car, and +like one in a dream, she walked on between the soldier and the sailor, +who now reached out to her, each, a hand equally big and equally gentle, +to aid her up certain crumbling, and time-worn steps. On they went +together until they were come to a place of whispering echoes, where +lights burned, few, and dim. + +And here, still as one in a dream, she spoke those words which gave her +life, henceforth, into the keeping of him who stood beside her,--whose +strong hand trembled as he set upon her finger, that which is an emblem +of eternity. + +Like one in a dream, she took the pen, and signed her name, obediently, +where they directed. And yet,--could this really be herself,--this +silent, submissive creature? + +And now, they were out upon the moon-lit road again, seated in the car, +while Peterday, his hat in his hand, was speaking to her. And yet,--was +it to her? + +"Mrs. Belloo, mam," he was saying, "on this here monumentous occasion--" + +"Monumentous is the only word for it, Peterday!" nodded the Sergeant. + +"On this here monumentous occasion, Mrs. Belloo," the sailor proceeded, +"my shipmate, Dick, and me, mam,--respectfully beg the favour of +saluting the bride;--Mrs. Belloo, by your leave--here's health, and +happiness, mam!" And, hereupon, the old sailor kissed her, right +heartily. Which done, he made way for the Sergeant who, after a moment's +hesitation, followed suit. + +"A fair wind, and prosperous!" cried Peterday, flourishing his hat. + +"And God--bless you--both!" said the Sergeant as the car shot away. + +So, it was done!--the irrevocable step was taken! Her life and future +had passed for ever into the keeping of him who sat so silent beside +her, who neither spoke, nor looked at her, but frowned ever at the road +before him. + +On sped the car, faster, and faster,--yet not so fast as the beating of +her heart wherein there was yet something of fear, and shame,--but +greatest of all was that other emotion, and the name of it was--Joy. + +Now, presently, the car slowed down, and he spoke to her, though without +turning his head. And yet, something in his voice thrilled through her +strangely. + +"Look Anthea,--the moon is at the full, to-night." + +"Yes!" she answered. + +"And Happiness shall come riding astride the full moon!" he quoted. "Old +Nannie is rather a wonderful old witch, after all, isn't she?" + +"Yes." + +"And then there is--our nephew,--my dear, little Porges! But for him, +Happiness would have been a stranger to me all my days, Anthea. He +dreamed that the Money Moon spoke to him, and--but he shall tell you of +that, for himself." + +But Anthea noticed that he spoke without once looking at her; indeed it +seemed that he avoided glancing towards her, of set design, and purpose; +and his deep voice quivered, now and then, in a way she had never heard +before. Therefore, her heart throbbed the faster, and she kept her gaze +bent downward, and thus, chancing to see the shimmer of that which was +upon her finger, she blushed, and hid it in a fold of her gown. + +"Anthea." + +"Yes?" + +"You have no regrets,--have you?" + +"No," she whispered. + +"We shall soon be--home, now!" + +"Yes." + +"And are you--mine--for ever, and always? Anthea, you--aren't--afraid of +me any more, are you?" + +"No." + +"Nor ever will be?" + +"Nor--ever will be." + +Now as the car swept round a bend, behold yet two other figures standing +beside the way. + +"Yo ho, Captain!" cried a voice, "Oh--please heave to, Uncle Porges!" + +And, forth to meet them, came Small Porges, running. Yet remembering +Miss Priscilla, tapping along behind him, he must needs turn back,--to +give her his hand like the kindly, small gentleman that he was. + +And now--Miss Priscilla had Anthea in her arms, and they were kissing +each other, and murmuring over each other, as loving women will, while +Small Porges stared at the car, and all things pertaining thereto, more +especially, the glaring head-lights, with great wondering eyes. + +At length, having seen Anthea, and Miss Priscilla safely stowed, he +clambered up beside Bellew, and gave him the word to proceed. What pen +could describe his ecstatic delight as he sat there, with one hand +hooked into the pocket of Uncle Porges' coat, and with the cool night +wind whistling through his curls. So great was it, indeed, that Bellew +was constrained to turn aside, and make a wide detour, purely for the +sake of the radiant joy in Small Porges' eager face. + +When, at last, they came within sight of Dapplemere, and the great +machine crept up the rutted, grassy lane, Small Porges sighed, +and spoke: + +"Auntie Anthea," said he, "are you sure that you are married--nice +an'--tight, you know?" + +"Yes, dear," she answered, "why--yes, Georgy." + +"But you don't look a bit diff'rent, you know,--either of you. Are you +quite--sure? 'cause I shouldn't like you to disappoint me,--after all." + +"Never fear, my Porges," said Bellew, "I made quite sure of it while I +had the chance,--look!" As he spoke, he took Anthea's left hand, +drawing it out into the moonlight, so that Small Porges could see the +shining ring upon her finger. + +"Oh!" said he, nodding his head, "then that makes it all right I s'pose. +An' you aren't angry with me 'cause I let a great, big gnome come an' +carry you off, are you, Auntie Anthea?" + +"No, dear." + +"Why then, everything's quite--magnif'cent, isn't it? An' now we're +going to live happy ever after, all of us, an' Uncle Porges is going to +take us to sail the oceans in his ship,--he's got a ship that all +belongs to his very own self, you know, Auntie Anthea,--so all will be +revelry an' joy--just like the fairy tale, after all." + +And so, at last, they came to the door of the ancient House of +Dapplemere. Whereupon, very suddenly, Adam appeared, bare-armed from the +stables, who, looking from Bellew's radiant face to Miss Anthea's shy +eyes, threw back his head, vented his great laugh, and was immediately +solemn again. + +"Miss Anthea," said he, wringing and twisting at his hat, "or--I think I +should say,--Mrs. Belloo mam,--there ain't no word for it! least-ways +not as I know on, nohow. No words be strong enough to tell the +J-O-Y--j'y, mam, as fills us--one an' all." Here, he waved his hand to +where stood the comely Prudence with the two rosy-cheeked maids peeping +over her buxom shoulders. + +"Only," pursued Adam, "I be glad--ah! mortal glad, I be,--as 'tis you, +Mr. Belloo sir. There ain't a man in all the world,--or--as you might +say,--uni-verse, as is so proper as you to be the husband to our Miss +Anthea--as was,--not nohow, Mr. Belloo sir. I wish you j'y, a j'y as +shall grow wi' the years, an' abide wi' you always,--both on ye." + +"That is a very excellent thought Adam!" said Bellew, "and I think I +should like to shake hands on it." Which they did, forthwith. + +"An' now, Mrs. Belloo mam," Adam concluded, "wi' your kind permission, +I'll step into the kitchen, an' drink a glass o' Prue's ale--to your +'ealth, and 'appiness. If I stay here any longer I won't say but what I +shall burst out a-singing in your very face, mam, for I do be that +'appy-'earted,--Lord!" + +With which exclamation, Adam laughed again, and turning about, strode +away to the kitchen with Prudence and the rosy-cheeked maids, laughing +as he went. + +"Oh my dears!" said little Miss Priscilla, "I've hoped for this,--prayed +for it,--because I believe he is--worthy of you, Anthea, and because you +have both loved each other, from the very beginning; oh dear me; yes you +have! And so, my dears,--your happiness is my happiness and--Oh, +goodness me! here I stand talking sentimental nonsense while our Small +Porges is simply dropping asleep as he stands." + +"'Fraid I am a bit tired," Small Porges admitted, "but it's been a +magnif'cent night. An' I think, Uncle Porges, when we sail away in your +ship, I think, I'd like to sail round the Horn first 'cause they say +it's always blowing, you know, and I should love to hear it blow. An' +now--Good-night!" + +"Wait a minute, my Porges, just tell us what it was the Money Moon said +to you, last night, will you?" + +"Well," said Small Porges, shaking his head, and smiling, a slow, sly +smile, "I don't s'pose we'd better talk about it, Uncle Porges, 'cause, +you see, it was such a very great secret; an 'sides,--I'm awful sleepy, +you know!" So saying, he nodded slumberously, kissed Anthea sleepily, +and, giving Miss Priscilla his hand, went drowsily into the house. + +But, as for Bellew it seemed to him that this was the hour for which he +had lived all his life, and, though he spoke nothing of this thought, +yet Anthea knew it, instinctively,--as she knew why he had avoided +looking at her hitherto, and what had caused the tremor in his voice, +despite his iron self-control; and, therefore, now that they were alone, +she spoke hurriedly, and at random: + +"What--did he--Georgy mean by--your ship?" + +"Why, I promised to take him a cruise in the yacht--if you cared to +come, Anthea." + +"Yacht!" she repeated, "are you so dreadfully rich?" + +"I'm afraid we are," he nodded, "but, at least, it has the advantage of +being better than if we were--dreadfully poor, hasn't it?" + +Now, in the midst of the garden there was an old sun-dial worn by time, +and weather, and it chanced that they came, and leaned there, side by +side. And, looking down upon the dial, Bellew saw certain characters +graven thereon in the form of a poesy. + +"What does it say, here, Anthea?" he asked. But Anthea shook her head: + +"That, you must read for yourself!" she said, not looking at him. + +So, he took her hand in his, and, with her slender finger, spelled out +this motto. + +Time, and youthe do flee awaie, Love, Oh! Love then, whiles ye may. + +"Anthea!" said he, and again she heard the tremor in his voice, "you +have been my wife nearly three quarters of an hour, and all that time I +haven't dared to look at you, because if I had, I must have--kissed you, +and I meant to wait--until your own good time. But Anthea, you have +never yet told me that you--love me--Anthea?" + +She did not speak, or move, indeed, she was so very still that he needs +must bend down to see her face. Then, all at once, her lashes were +lifted, her eyes looked up into his--deep and dark with passionate +tenderness. + +"Aunt Priscilla--was quite--right," she said, speaking in her low, +thrilling voice, "I have loved you--from the--very beginning, I think!" +And, with a soft, murmurous sigh, she gave herself into his embrace. + +Now, far away across the meadow, Adam was plodding his homeward way, +and, as he trudged, he sang to himself in a harsh, but not unmusical +voice, and the words of his song were these: + + "When I am dead, diddle diddle, as well may hap + You'll bury me, diddle diddle, under the tap, + Under the tap, diddle diddle, I'll tell you why, + That I may drink, diddle diddle, when I am dry." + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Money Moon, by Jeffery Farnol + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONEY MOON *** + +***** This file should be named 10418.txt or 10418.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/4/1/10418/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ginny Brewer and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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