XXIV
FRANKL SEES THE METEORITE
He was awaked by a footstep, and, starting, saw rocking along the forestpath one Farmer Pollock, wearing now fez and tassel, and he saw hisclothes all clay, and, with a smile of fondness, saw how, even beneathits grime, the meteor dodged and jeered, with frolic leers, in thebeams of a bright morning that seemed to him the primal morning, a freshwedding-morning, swarming with elves and shell-tinted visions, imps andpixy princes, profligate Golcondas.
Going first to the spot where he had digged, to give to the surface anatural look, he trampled the lantern into the mire, threw the tin canfar, then, taking a quantity of marl, plastered the meteorite, tocover its roughness; then boldly left it, starting out with consummateaudacity for Thring, where everybody, police and all, knew him well.
A singular light now in his eyes, an evil pride; and he had the step ofa Prince in Prettyland. Corresponding to an inward majesty, of which,from youth, he had been conscious, he now felt an outward, and had notbeen awake eight minutes when his brain was invaded by plans--plansof debauchery, palaces, orgy, flying beds of ivory arabesqued infan-traceries of sapphire, in which Rebekah Frankl lolled, and smiled;and on toward Thring he stepped, prince new-crowned, yet by oldheredity, high exalted above laws, government, and the entire littlemuck of Man.
At one point where the path ran close to Westring-park proper, the parkon higher ground, a grass-bank seven feet high dividing them, he sawa-top of the bank in caftan, priest-cap, and phylacteries, takingsnuff--Baruch Frankl.
Hogarth skipped up, and stood before the Jew, having drawn hisface-cloth well forward.
"What's the row?" asked Frankl.
"Could you give a poor man a job?"
"You a Jew?"
"Yes", replied Hogarth, not dreaming how truly: "London born".
"A Froom?"
"I keep the fasts".
"What you doing about here?"
"Tramping".
"Fine mess you are in".
"I slept in a hollow tree down yonder--an elm tree".
"Well, there's many a worse shake-down than that. Who are you? Ever beenabout here before?"
"I was once".
"You put me in mind of an old chum of mine....Well, here's half-a-crownfor you to go on with".
"Make it a crown", said Hogarth, "and get me to clean up down there; ina shocking state with mast and leaves".
Frankl considered. "All right, I don't mind".
"I shall want a spade, and--a barrow".
"Go down the path yonder, till you come to the stables, and tell them".
Frankl resumed his musing stroll, and Hogarth ran for the barrow.
In twenty minutes he was again at the elm tree, and, with a scheme inhim for seeing Rebekah, heaped the barrow with refuse, pushed it betweena beck and the wood, till, wearying of this, he was about to get themeteorite into the barrow, when he had the mad thought that Frankl mustbe made to see and touch it, so set off to seek him: and a few yardsbrought him face to face with Frankl.
"Well, how goes it?" asked the Jew.
"There is a weight there which I can't lift", said Hogarth. "Then youmust do the other thing. Don't lift it, and you don't get the pay. Whatweight is it?"
"It is here".
Hogarth led him, led him, pointing. Frankl kicked the meteorite.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It can't be a branch", said Hogarth; "too heavy--more like a piece ofold iron".
"Well, slip into it. A strapping fellow like you ought to be able to dothat bit".
"But suppose it's valuable?"
"I make you a present of it, as you are so hard up".
Now Hogarth, by tilting the barrow, with strong effort of four limbs,got the meteorite lodged, while Frankl, his smile lifting the wrinklesabove his thick moustache, watched the strain: then, with arms behind,went his contemplative way.
Hogarth rolled the barrow toward Thring.