CHAPTER 6
AN ASSAULT
Surely after all,The noblest answer unto suchIs perfect stillness when they brawl--_Tennyson_
I have more than once brought up the name of Mr. Maskew; and as I shallhave other things to tell of him later on, I may as well relate here whatmanner of man he was. His stature was but medium, not exceeding five feetfour inches, I think; and to make the most of it, he flung his head farback, and gave himself a little strut in walking. He had a thin face witha sharp nose that looked as if it would peck you, and grey eyes thatcould pierce a millstone if there was a guinea on the far side of it. Hishair, for he wore his own, had been red, though it was now grizzled; andthe colour of it was set down in Moonfleet to his being a Scotchman, forwe thought all Scotchmen were red-headed. He was a lawyer by profession,and having made money in Edinburgh, had gone so far south as Moonfleet toget quit, as was said, of the memories of rascally deeds. It was aboutfour years since he bought a parcel of the Mohune Estate, which had beenbreaking up and selling piecemeal for a generation; and on his land stoodthe Manor House, or so much of it as was left. Of the mansion I havespoken before. It was a very long house of two storeys, with a projectinggable and doorway in the middle, and at each end gabled wings running outcrosswise. The Maskews lived in one of these wings, and that was the onlyhabitable portion of the place; for as to the rest, the glass was out ofthe windows, and in some places the roofs had fallen in. Mr. Maskew madeno attempt to repair house or grounds, and the bough of the great cedarwhich the snows had brought down in '49 still blocked the drive. Theentrance to the house was through the porchway in the middle, but morethan one tumble-down corridor had to be threaded before one reachedthe inhabited wing; while fowls and pigs and squirrels had possession ofthe terrace lawns in front. It was not for want of money that Maskew letthings remain thus, for men said that he was rich enough, only that hismood was miserly; and perhaps, also, it was the lack of woman's companythat made him think so little of neatness and order. For his wife wasdead; and though he had a daughter, she was young, and had not yet weightenough to make her father do things that he did not choose.
Till Maskew came there had been none living in the Manor House for ageneration, so the village children used the terrace for a playground,and picked primroses in the woods; and the men thought they had a rightto snare a rabbit or shoot a pheasant in the chase. But the new ownerchanged all this, hiding gins and spring-guns in the coverts, and nailingup boards on the trees to say he would have the law of any thattrespassed. So he soon made enemies for himself, and before long hadeveryone's hand against him. Yet he preferred his neighbour's enmity totheir goodwill, and went about to make it more bitter by getting himselfposted for magistrate, and giving out that he would put down thecontraband thereabouts. For no one round Moonfleet was for the Excise;but farmers loved a glass of Schnapps that had never been gauged, andtheir wives a piece of fine lace from France. And then came the affairbetween the _Elector_ and the ketch, with David Block's death; and afterthat they said it was not safe for Maskew to walk at large, and that hewould be found some day dead on the down; but he gave no heed to it, andwent on as if he had been a paid exciseman rather than a magistrate.
When I was a little boy the Manor woods were my delight, and many a sunnyafternoon have I sat on the terrace edge looking down over the village,and munching red quarantines from the ruined fruit gardens. And thoughthis was now forbidden, yet the Manor had still a sweeter attraction tome than apples or bird-batting, and that was Grace Maskew. She was anonly child, and about my own age, or little better, at the time of whichI am speaking. I knew her, because she went every day to the oldalmshouses to be taught by the Reverend Mr. Glennie, from whom I alsoreceived my schooling. She was tall for her age, and slim, with a thinface and a tumble of tawny hair, which flew about her in a wind or whenshe ran. Her frocks were washed and patched and faded, and showed more ofher arms and legs than the dressmaker had ever intended, for she was agrowing girl, and had none to look after her clothes. She was a favouriteplayfellow with all, and an early choice for games of 'prisoner's base',and she could beat most of us boys at speed. Thus, though we all hatedher father, and had for him many jeering titles among ourselves; yet wenever used an evil nickname nor a railing word against him when she wasby, because we liked her well.
There were a half-dozen of us boys, and as many girls, whom Mr. Glennieused to teach; and that you may see what sort of man Maskew was, I willtell you what happened one day in school between him and the parson. Mr.Glennie taught us in the almshouses; for though there were now nobedesmen, and the houses themselves were fallen to decay, yet the littlehall in which the inmates had once dined was still maintained, and servedfor our schoolroom. It was a long and lofty room, with a high wainscotall round it, a carved oak screen at one end, and a broad window at theother. A very heavy table, polished by use, and sadly besmirched withink, ran down the middle of the hall with benches on either side of itfor us to use; and a high desk for Mr. Glennie stood under the window atthe end of the room. Thus we were sitting one morning with oursumming-slates and grammars before us when the door in the screen opensand Mr. Maskew enters.
I have told you already of the verses which Mr. Glennie wrote for DavidBlock's grave; and when the floods had gone down Ratsey set up theheadstone with the poetry carved on it. But Maskew, through not going tochurch, never saw the stone for weeks, until one morning, walking throughthe churchyard, he lighted on it, and knew the verses for Mr. Glennie's.So 'twas to have it out with the parson that he had come to school thisday; and though we did not know so much then, yet guessed from hispresence that something was in the wind, and could read in his face thathe was very angry. Now, for all that we hated Maskew, yet were we gladenough to see him there, as hoping for something strange to vary thesameness of school, and scenting a disturbance in the air. Only Grace wasill at ease for fear her father should say something unseemly, and kepther head down with shocks of hair falling over her book, though I couldsee her blushing between them. So in vapours Maskew, and with an angryglance about him makes straight for the desk where our master sits at thetop of the room.
For a moment Mr. Glennie, being shortsighted, did not see who 'twas; butas his visitor drew near, rose courteously to greet him.
'Good day to you, Mister Maskew,' says he, holding out his hand.
But Maskew puts his arms behind his back and bubbles out, 'Hold not outyour hand to me lest I spit on it. 'Tis like your snivelling cant towrite sweet psalms for smuggling rogues and try to frighten honest menwith your judgements.'
At first Mr. Glennie did not know what the other would be at, andafterwards understanding, turned very pale; but said as a minister hewould never be backward in reproving those whom he considered in thewrong, whether from the pulpit or from the gravestone. Then Maskewflies into a great passion, and pours out many vile and insolent words,saying Mr. Glennie is in league with the smugglers and fattens on theircrimes; that the poetry is a libel; and that he, Maskew, will have thelaw of him for calumny.
After that he took Grace by the arm, and bade her get hat and cape andcome with him. 'For,' says he, 'I will not have thee taught any more by apsalm-singing hypocrite that calls thy father murderer.' And all thewhile he kept drawing up closer to Mr. Glennie, until the two stood verynear each other.
There was a great difference between them; the one short and blustering,with a red face turned up; the other tall and craning down, ill-clad,ill-fed, and pale. Maskew had in his left hand a basket, with which hewent marketing of mornings, for he made his own purchases, and likedfish, as being cheaper than meat. He had been chaffering with thefishwives this very day, and was bringing back his provend with him whenhe visited our school.
Then he said to Mr. Glennie: 'Now, Sir Parson, the law has given intoyour fool's hands a power over this churchyard, and 'tis your trade tostop unseemly headlines from being set up within its walls, or once setup, to turn them out forthwith. So I give you a week's grace, and iftomorrow se
nnight yon stone be not gone, I will have it up and flung inpieces outside the wall.'
Mr. Glennie answered him in a low voice, but quite clear, so that wecould hear where we sat: 'I can neither turn the stone out myself, norstop you from turning it out if you so mind; but if you do this thing,and dishonour the graveyard, there is One stronger than either you or Ithat must be reckoned with.'
I knew afterwards that he meant the Almighty, but thought then that'twas of Elzevir he spoke; and so, perhaps, did Mr. Maskew, for he fellinto a worse rage, thrust his hand in the basket, whipped out a greatsole he had there, and in a twinkling dashes it in Mr. Glennie's face,with a 'Then, take that for an unmannerly parson, for I would not foul myfist with your mealy chops.'
But to see that stirred my choler, for Mr. Glennie was weak as wax, andwould never have held up his hand to stop a blow, even were he strong asGoliath. So I was for setting on Maskew, and being a stout lad for myage, could have had him on the floor as easy as a baby; but as I rosefrom my seat, I saw he held Grace by the hand, and so hung back for amoment, and before I got my thoughts together he was gone, and I saw thetail of Grace's cape whisk round the screen door.
A sole is at the best an ugly thing to have in one's face, and this solewas larger than most, for Maskew took care to get what he could for hismoney, so it went with a loud smack on Mr. Glennie's cheek, and then fellwith another smack on the floor. At this we all laughed, as childrenwill, and Mr. Glennie did not check us, but went back and sat very quietat his desk; and soon I was sorry I had laughed, for he looked sad, withhis face sanded and a great red patch on one side, and beside that thefin had scratched him and made a blood-drop trickle down his cheek. A fewminutes later the thin voice of the almshouse clock said twelve, and awaywalked Mr. Glennie without his usual 'Good day, children', and there wasthe sole left lying on the dusty floor in front of his desk.
It seemed a shame so fine a fish should be wasted, so I picked it up andslipped it in my desk, sending Fred Burt to get his mother's gridironthat we might grill it on the schoolroom fire. While he was gone I wentout to the court to play, and had not been there five minutes when backcomes Maskew through our playground without Grace, and goes into theschoolroom. But in the screen at the end of the room was a chink, againstwhich we used to hold our fingers on bright days for the sun to shinethrough, and show the blood pink; so up I slipped and fixed my eye to thehole, wanting to know what he was at. He had his basket with him, and Isoon saw he had come back for the sole, not having the heart to leave sogood a bit of fish. But look where he would, he could not find it, for henever searched my desk, and had to go off with a sour countenance; butFred Burt and I cooked the sole, and found it well flavoured, for all ithad given so much pain to Mr. Glennie.
After that Grace came no more to school, both because her father hadsaid she should not, and because she was herself ashamed to go backafter what Maskew had done to Mr. Glennie. And then it was that I took towandering much in the Manor woods, having no fear of man-traps, for Iknew their place as soon as they were put down, but often catching sightof Grace, and sometimes finding occasion to talk with her. Thus timepassed, and I lived with Elzevir at the Why Not?, still going to schoolof mornings, but spending the afternoons in fishing, or in helping himin the garden, or with the boats. As soon as I got to know him well, Ibegged him to let me help run the cargoes, but he refused, saying I wasyet too young, and must not come into mischief. Yet, later, yielding tomy importunity, he consented; and more than one dark night I was in thelanding-boats that unburdened the lugger, though I could never bringmyself to enter the Mohune vault again, but would stand as sentry at thepassage-mouth. And all the while I had round my neck Colonel JohnMohune's locket, and at first wore it next myself, but finding it blackthe skin, put it between shirt and body-jacket. And there by dint ofwear it grew less black, and showed a little of the metal underneath,and at last I took to polishing it at odd times, until it came out quitewhite and shiny, like the pure silver that it was. Elzevir had seen thislocket when he put me to bed the first time I came to the Why Not? andafterwards I told him whence I got it; but though we had it out morethan once of an evening, we could never come at any hidden meaning.Indeed, we scarce tried to, judging it to be certainly a sacred charm tokeep evil spirits from Blackbeard's body.