Read Perlycross: A Tale of the Western Hills Page 41


  CHAPTER XL.

  HOME AND FOREIGN.

  Six weeks was the average time allowed for the voyage to and fro of theschooner _Montilla_ (owned by Messrs. Besley of Exeter) from Topsham toCadiz, or wherever it might be; and little uneasiness was ever felt, ifher absence extended to even three months. For Spaniards are not in theawkward habit of cracking whips at old Time, when he is out at grass,much less of jumping at his forelock; and Iberian time is nearly alwaysout at grass. When a thing will not help to do itself to-day, who knowsthat it may not be in a kinder mood to-morrow? The spirit of worry, andunreasonable hurry, is a deadly blast to all serenity of mind anddignity of demeanour, and can be in harmony with nothing but badweather. Thus the _Montilla's_ period was a fluctuating numeral.

  As yet English produce was of high repute, and the Continent had notbeen barb-wired by ourselves, against our fleecy merchandise. TheSpaniards happened to be in the vein for working, and thus on thiswinter trip the good trader's hold was quickly cleared of Englishsolids, and refilled with Spanish fluids; and so the _Montilla_ wasready for voyage homeward the very day her passenger rejoined. Thispleased him well, for he was anxious to get back, though not at allaware of the urgent need arising. Luckily for him and for all on board,the schooner lost a day in getting out to sea, and thus ran into therough fringes only of the great storm that swept the English coast andchannel. In fact she made good weather across the Bay of Biscay, andswang into her berth at Topsham, several days before she was counteddue.

  The Sergeant's first duty was, of course, to report himself atWalderscourt; and this he had done, before he made that auspiciousre-entry upon his own domain. The ladies did not at all expect to seehim, for days or even weeks to come, having heard nothing whatever ofhis doings; for the post beyond France was so uncertain then, that hewent away with orders not to write.

  When Jakes was shown into the room, Lady Waldron was sitting alone, andmuch agitated by a letter just received from Mr. Webber, containing hisopinion of all that had happened at Perliton on Wednesday. Feeling herunfitness for another trial, she sent for her daughter, beforepermitting the envoy to relate his news. Then she strove to look calmlyat him, and to maintain her cold dignity as of yore; but the power wasno longer in her. Months of miserable suspense, perpetual brooding, andwant of sleep, had lowered the standard of her pride; and nothing but aburst of painful sobs saved her from a worse condition.

  The Sergeant stood hesitating by the door, feeling that he had noinvitation to see this, and not presuming to offer comfort. But MissWaldron seeing the best thing to do, called him, and bade him tell hisnews in brief.

  "May it please your ladyship," the veteran began, staring deeply intohis new Spanish hat, about which he had received some compliments; "allI have to tell your ladyship is for the honour of the family. Yourladyship's brother is as innocent as I be. He hath had nought to do withany wicked doings here. He hath not got his money, but he means to haveit."

  "Thank God!" cried Lady Waldron, but whether about the money, or theinnocence, was not clear; and then she turned away, to have things outwith herself; and Jakes was sent into the next room, and sat down,thanking the crown of his hat that it covered the whole of his domesticinterests.

  When feminine excitement was in some degree spent, and the love ofparticulars (which can never long be quenched by any depth of tears),was reviving, Sergeant Jakes was well received, and told his adventureslike a veteran. A young man is apt to tell things hotly, as if nothinghad ever come to pass before; but a steady-goer knows that the sun wasshining, and the rain was raining, and the wind was blowing, ere he feltany one of them. Alike the whole must be cut short.

  It appears that the Sergeant had a fine voyage out, and picked up agood deal of his lapsed Spanish lore, from two worthy Spanish handsamong the crew. Besley of Exeter did things well--as the manner of thatcity is--victuals were good, and the crew right loyal, as generallyhappens in that case. Captain Binstock stood in awe of his elderbrother, the butler, and never got out of his head its original beliefthat the Sergeant was his brother's schoolmaster. Against that ideachronology strove hazily, and therefore vainly. The Sergeant strode thedeck with a stick he bought at Exeter, spoke of his experience intransports, regarded the masts as a pair of his own canes--in a word wasmaster of the ship, whenever there was nothing to be done to her. Afiner time he never had, for he was much too wiry to be sea-sick. Allthe crew liked him, whether present or absent, and never laughed at himbut in the latter case. He corrected their English, when it did not suithis own, and thus created a new form of discipline. Most of this herecounted in his pungent manner, without a word of self-laudation; andit would have been a treat to Christie Fox to hear him; but his presentlisteners were too anxious about the result to enjoy this part of it.

  Then he went to the city to which he was despatched, and presented hisletters to the few he could find entitled to receive them. The greaterpart were gone beyond the world of letters, for twenty-five years make asad gap in the post. And of the three survivors, one alone cared to betroubled with the bygone days. But that one was a host in himself, aloyal retainer of the ancient family, in the time of its grandeur, andnow in possession of a sinecure post, as well as a nice farm on thehills, both of which he had obtained through their influence. He wasdelighted to hear once more of the beautiful lady he had formerlyadored. He received the Sergeant as his guest, and told him all that wasknown of the present state of things, concerning the young Count--as hestill called him--and all that was likely to come of it.

  It was true that the Count had urged his claim, and brought evidence insupport of it; but at present there seemed to be very little chance ofhis getting the money for years to come, even if he should do so in theend; and for that he must display, as they said, fresh powers ofsurvivorship. He had been advised to make an offer of release andquit-claim, upon receipt of the sum originally advanced without anyinterest; but he had answered sternly, "either I will have all, ornone."

  The amount was so large, that he could not expect to receive the wholeimmediately; and he was ready to accept it by instalments; but theauthorities would not pay a penny, nor attempt an arrangement with him,for fear of admitting their liability. In a very brief, and candid, butby no means honest manner, they refused to be bound at all by the actionof their fathers. When that was of no avail, because the City-tolls werein the bond, they began to call for proof of this, and evidence of that,and set up every possible legal obstacle, hoping to exhaust theclaimant's sadly dwindled revenues. Above all, they maintained that twoof the lives in the assurance-deed were still subsisting, although theirlapse was admitted in their own minutes, and registered in the record.And it was believed that in this behalf, they were having recourse topersonation.

  That scandalous pretext must be demolished, before it could become ofprime moment to the Count to prove the decease of his brother-in-law;and certain it was that no such dramatic incident had occurred in theCity, as that which her ladyship had witnessed, by means of herimagination. With a long fight before him, and very scanty sinews of warto maintain it, the claimant had betaken himself to Madrid, where he hadpowerful friends, and might consult the best legal advisers. But hisprospects were not encouraging; for unless he could deposit a good roundsum, for expenses of process, and long enquiry, and even counterbribing,no one was likely to take up his case, so strong and so tough were theforces in possession. Rash friends went so far as to recommend him totake the bull by the horns at once, to lay forcible hands upon theCity-tolls, without any order from a law-court, for the Deed was sodrastic that this power was conferred; but he saw that to do this wouldsimply be to play into the hands of the enemy. For thus he wouldprobably find himself outlawed, or perhaps cast into prison, with thelapse of his own life imminent; for the family of the Barcas were nolonger supreme in the land, as they used to be.

  "Ungrateful thieves! Vile pigs of burghers!" Lady Waldron exclaimed withjust indignation. "My grandfather would have strung them up with strawin their noses, and set the
m on fire. They sneer at the family of Barca,do they? It shall trample them underfoot. My poor brother shall have mylast penny to punish them; for that I have wronged him in my heart. Oursis a noble race, and most candid. We never deign to stoop ourselves tomistrust or suspicion: I trust Master Sergeant, you have not spoken soto the worthy and loyal Diego, that my brother may ever hear of thethoughts introduced into my mind concerning him?"

  "No, my lady, not a word. Everything I did, or said, was friendly,straight-forward, and favourable to the honour of the family."

  "You are a brave man; you are a faithful soldier. Forget that by theforce of circumstances I was compelled to have such opinions. But canyou recite to me the names of the two persons, whose lives they havereplenished?"

  "Yes, my lady. Senor Diego wrote them down in this book on purpose. Hethought that your ladyship might know something of them."

  "For one I have knowledge of everything; but the other I do not know,"Lady Waldron said, after reading the names. "This poor Senorita was oneof my bridesmaids, known to me from my childhood. _La Giralda_ was hername of intimacy, what you call her nickname, by reason of her stature.Her death I can prove too well, and expose any imitation. But theSpanish nation--you like them much? You find them gentle, brave,amiable, sober, not as the English are, generous, patriotic,honourable?"

  "Quite as noble and good, my lady, as we found them five and twentyyears agone. And I hope that the noble Count will get his money. Abargain is a bargain--as we say here. And if they are so honourable----"

  "Ah, that is quite a different thing. Inez, I must leave you. I desiresome time to think. My mind is very much relieved of one part, althoughof another still more distressed. I request you to see to the goodrefreshment of this honourable and faithful soldier."

  Lady Waldron acknowledged the Sergeant's low bow, with a kindinclination of her Andalusian head (which is something in the headwayamong the foremost) and left the room with a lighter step than her hearthad allowed her for many a week.

  "This will never do, Sergeant; this won't do at all," said Miss Waldroncoming up to him, as soon as she had shut the door behind her loftymother. "I know by your countenance, and the way you were standing, andthe side-way you sit down again, that you have not told us everything.That is not the right way to go on, Sergeant Jakes."

  "Miss Nicie!" cried Jakes, with a forlorn hope of frightening her, forshe had sat upon his knee, many a time, ten or twelve years ago, cravingstories of good boys and bad boys. But now the eyes, which he used tofill with any emotion he chose to call for, could produce that effectupon his own.

  "Can you think that I don't understand you?" said Nicie, never releasinghim from her eyes. "What was the good of telling me all those stories,when I was a little thing, except for me to understand you? When anybodytells me a story that is true, it is no good for him to try anythingelse. I get so accustomed to his way, that I catch him out in a moment."

  "But my dear, my dear Miss Nicie," the Sergeant looked all about, as inlarge appeal, instead of fixing steady gaze; "if I have told you asingle word that is not as true as Gospel--may I----"

  "Now don't be profane, Sergeant Jakes. That was allowed perhaps inwar-time. And don't be crooked--which is even worse. I never called inquestion any one thing you have said. All I know is that you havestopped short. You used to do just the same with me, when things I wastoo young to hear came in. You are easier to read than one of your owncopies. What have you kept in the background, you unfaithful soldier?"

  "Oh Miss, how you do remind me of the Colonel! Not that he ever lookedhalf as fierce. But he used to say, 'Jakes what a deep rogue you are!'meaning how deeply he could trust me, against all his enemies. But Miss,I have given my word about this."

  "Then take it back, as some people do their presents. What is the goodof being a deep rogue, if you can't be a shallow one? I should hope youwould rather be a rogue, to other people than to me. I will never speakto you again, unless you show now that you can trust me, as my dearfather used to trust in you. No secrets from me, if you please."

  "Well, Miss, it was for your sake, more than anybody else's. But youmust promise, honour bright, not to let her ladyship know of it; for itmight be the death of her. It took me by surprise, and it hath almostknocked me over; for I never could have thought there was more troublescoming. But who do you think I ran up against, to Exeter?"

  "How can I tell? Don't keep me waiting. That kind of riddle is sohateful always."

  "Master Tom, Miss Nicie! Your brother, Master Tom! 'Sir Thomas Waldron'his proper name is now. You know they have got a new oil they call_gas_, to light the public places of the big towns with, and it makeseverything as bright as day, and brighter than some of the days we getnow. Well, I was intending to come on last night by the Bristol mail,and wait about till you was up; and as I was standing with my knapsackon my shoulder, to see her come in from Plymouth, in she comes, and atall young man dressed all in black, gets down slowly from the roof, andstands looking about very queerly.

  "'Bain't you going no further, Sir?' says the Guard to him very civil,as he locked the bags in; 'only allows us three minutes and ahalf,'--for the young man seemed as if he did not care what time it was.

  "'No. I can't go home;' says he, as if nothing mattered to him. I washanding up my things, to get up myself, when the tone of his voice tookme all of a heap.

  "'What, Master Tom!' says I, going up to him.

  "'Who are you?' says he. 'Master Tom, indeed!' For I had this queer sortof hat on, and cloak, like a blessed foreigner.

  "Well, when I told him who I was, he did not seem at all as he used tobe, but as if I had done him a great injury; and as for his luggage, itwould have gone on with the coach, if the Guard had not called out aboutit.

  "'Come in here;' he says to me, as if I was a dog, him that was alwaysso well-spoken and polite! And he turned sharp into _The Old LondonInn_, leaving all his luggage on the stones outside.

  "'Private sitting-room, and four candles!' he called out, marching upthe stairs, and making me a sign to follow him. Everybody seemed to knowhim there, and I told them to fetch his things in.

  "'No fire! Hot enough already. Put the candles down, and go;' said he tothe waiter, and then he locked the door, and threw the key upon thetable. It takes a good deal to frighten me, Miss. But I assure you I wastrembling; for I never saw such a pair of eyes--not furious, but sodesperate; and I should have been but a baby in his hands, for he isbigger than even his father was. Then he pulled out a newspaper, andspread it among the candles.

  "'Now, you man of Perlycross,' he cried, 'you that teach the boys, whoare going to be grave-robbers,--is this true, or is it all a cursedlie?' Excuse me telling you, Miss, exactly as he said it. 'The Lord inheaven help me, I think I shall go mad, unless you can tell me it is alla wicked lie.' Up and down the room he walked, as if the boards wouldsink under him; while I was at my wits' ends, as you may well suppose,Miss.

  "'I have never heard a word of any of this, Master Tom;' I said, as soonas I had read it; for it was all about something that came on atPerliton before the Magistrates, last Wednesday. 'I have been away inforeign parts.'

  "Miss Nicie, he changed to me from that moment. I had not said a wordabout how long I was away, or anything whatever to deceive him. But helooked at my hat that was lying on a chair, and my cloak that was stillon my back, as much as to say--'I ought to have known it;' and then hesaid, 'Give me your hand, Old Jakes. I beg your pardon a thousand times.What a fool I must be, to think you would ever have allowed it!'

  "This put me in a very awkward hole; for I was bound to acknowledgethat I had been here, when the thing, he was so wild about, was done.But I let him go on, and have his raving out. For men are pretty muchthe same as boys; though expecting of their own way more, which I try totake out of the young ones. But a loud singing out, and a little bit ofstamping, brings them into more sense of what they be.

  "'I landed at Plymouth this morning,' he said, 'after getting a letter,which had been I don't know wher
e, to tell me that my dear father, thebest man that ever lived, was dead. I got leave immediately, and camehome to comfort my mother and sister, and to attend to all that wasneedful. I went into the coffee-room, before the coach was ready; andtaking up the papers, I find this! They talk of it, as if it was a thingwell known, a case of great interest in the county; a _mystery_ theycall it, a very lively thing to talk about--_The great PerlycrossMystery_, in big letters, cried at every corner, made a fine joke of inevery dirty pot-house. It seems to have been going on for months.Perhaps it has killed my mother and my sister. It would soon kill me, ifI were there, and could do nothing.'

  "Here I found a sort of opening; for the tears rolled down his face, ashe thought of you, Miss Nicie, and your dear Mamma; and the rage in hisheart seemed to turn into grief, and he sat down in one of the trumperychairs that they make nowadays, and it sprawled and squeaked under him,being such an uncommon fine young man in trouble. So I went up to him,and stood before him, and lifted his hands from his face, as I had donemany's the time, when he was a little fellow, and broke his nose perhapsin his bravery. And then he looked up at me quite mild, and said--

  "'I believe I am a brute, Jakes. But isn't this enough to make me one?'

  "I stayed with him all night, Miss; for he would not go to bed, and hewouldn't have nothing for to eat or drink; and I was afraid to leave himso. But I got him at last to smoke a bit of my tobacco; and that seemedto make him look at things a little better. I told him all I knew, andwhat I had been to Spain for, and how you and her ladyship were tryingbravely to bear the terrible will of the Lord; and then I coaxed him allI could, to come along of me, and help you to bear it. But he said--'Imight take him for a coward, if I chose; but come to Walderscourt hewouldn't, and face his own mother and sister he couldn't; until he hadcleared off this terrible disgrace.'"

  "He is frightfully obstinate, he always was;" said Nicie, who hadlistened to this tale, with streaming eyes; "but it would be such acomfort to us both, to have him here. What has become of him? Where ishe now?"

  "That is the very thing I dare not tell you, Miss; because he made meswear to keep it to myself. By good rights, I ought to have told younothing; but you managed so to work it out of me. I would not come awayfrom him, till I knew where he would be, because he was in such a stateof mind. But I softened him down a good bit, I believe; and he mighttake a turn, if you were to write, imploring of him. I will take carethat he gets it, for he made me promise to write, and let him knowexactly how I found things here, after being away so long. But he isthat bitter against this place, that it will take a deal to bring himhere. You must work on his love for his mother, Miss Nicie, and his pityfor the both of you. That is the only thing that touches him. And saythat it is no fault of Perlycross, but strangers altogether."

  "You shall have my letter before the postman comes, so that you may sendit with your own. What a good friend you have been to us, dear Jakes! Mymother's heart would break at last, if she knew that Tom was in England,and would not come first of all to her. I can scarcely understand it. Tome it seems so unnatural."

  "Well, Miss, you never can tell by yourself, how other people will takethings--not even your own brother. And I think he will soon come round,Miss Nicie. According to my opinion, it was the first shock of thething, and the way he got it, that drove him out of his mind a'most.Maybe, he judges you by himself, and fancies it would only make youworse, to see him, with this disgrace upon him. For that's what he can'tget out of his head; and it would be a terrible meeting for my lady,with all the pride she hath in him. I reckon 'tis the Spanish blood thatdoes it; Englishman as he is, all over. But never fear, Miss Nicie;we'll fetch him here, between the two of us, afore we are much older. Hehath always been loving in his nature; and love will drive the angerout."