CHAPTER XXXIV
IN TYSON'S KITCHEN
The distance to the house was short. Before Henrietta had done morethan taste the bliss of the open night, had done more than lift hereyes in thankfulness to the dark profundity above her, she was underthe eaves. A stealthy tap was answered by the turning of a key, a doorwas quickly and silently opened, and she was pushed forward. Bessmuttered a word or two--to a person unseen--and gripping her arm,thrust her along a passage. A second door gave way as mysteriously,and Henrietta found herself dazzled and blinking on the threshold ofthe kitchen which she had left twenty-four hours before. It waslighted, but not with the wastefulness and extravagance of theprevious evening. Nor did it display those signs of disorder and riotwhich had yesterday opened her eyes.
She was sinking under the weight of the child, which she had hugged toher that it might not cry, and she went straight to the settle andlaid the boy on it. He opened his eyes and looked vacantly before him;but, apparently, he was too far gone in weakness, or in too much fear,to cry. While Henrietta, relieved of the weight, and perhaps of aportion of her fears, sank on the settle beside him, leant her face onher arms and burst into passionate weeping.
It was perhaps the best thing in her power. For the men had followedher into the kitchen; and Lunt, with brutal oaths, was asking why shewas there and what new folly was this. Bess turned on him--she wellknew how to meet such attacks; and with scornful tongue she bade himwait, calling him thick-head, and adding that he'd learn by-and-by, ifhe could learn anything. Then, while Giles, ill-content himself,gave some kind of account of the thing, she began--as if it were atrifle--to lay the supper. And almost by force she got Henrietta tothe table.
"It's food you want!" she said bluntly. "Don't play the silly! Who'shurt you? Who's going to hurt you? Here, take a sip of this, andyou'll feel better. Never heed him," with a contemptuous glance atLunt. "He's most times a grumbler."
For the moment Henrietta was quite broken, and the pressure which theother exerted was salutary. She did what she was bidden, swallowing amouthful of the Scotch cordial Bess forced on her, and eating anddrinking mechanically. Meanwhile the three men had brought their headstogether, and sat discussing the position with unconcealed grudgingand mistrust.
At length:
"You've grown cursed kind of a sudden!" Lunt swore, scowling at thetwo women. The child, in the presence of the men, sat paralysed withterror. "What's this blamed fuss about?"
"What fuss?" Bess shot at him over her shoulder. And going to thechild she bent over it with a bowl of bread and milk.
"Why don't you lay 'em up in lavender?" the man sneered. "See here,she was a peacock yesterday and you'd grind her pretty face under yourheel! To-day---- What does it mean? I want to know."
"I suppose you don't want 'em to die?" the girl returned, in the sametone of contempt.
"What do I care whether they die?"
"They'd be much use to us, dead!" she retorted.
Giles nodded assent.
"The girl's right there," he said in a low tone. "Best leave it toher. She's a cunning one and no mistake."
"Ay, cunning enough!" Lunt answered. "But whose game is she playing?Hers or ours?"
"Didn't know you had one!" Bess flung at him. And then in anundertone, "Dolt!" she muttered.
"It's all one, man, it's all one!" Giles said. On the whole he was forpeace. "Best have supper, and talk it over after."
"And let the first that comes in through the door find her?" Luntcried.
"Who's to come?"
"Didn't they come here this morning? And last night? And if she'd beenhere, or the child--
"Ay, but they weren't!" Bess answered brusquely. "And that's thereason the coves won't come again. For the matter of that," turningfiercely on them, "who was it cleaned up after you, you dirty dogs,and put this place straight? Without which they'd have known as muchthe moment they put their noses in--as if the girl had been sitting onthe settle there. Who was it thought of that, and did it? And hid yousafe upstairs?"
"You did, Bess--you did!" the gipsy answered, speaking for the firsttime. "And a gay, clever wench you are!" He looked defiantly at Lunt."You're a game cove," he said, "but you're not fly!"
Lunt for answer fired half a dozen oaths at him. But Giles interposed.
"We're all in one boat," he said. "And food's plenty. Let's stopjawing and to it!"
Two of the men seemed to think the advice good. And they began to eat,still debating. The third, Saul, continued to listen to hiscompanions, but his sly eyes never left Henrietta, who sat a littlefarther down the table on the opposite side. She was not for some timeaware of his looks, or of their meaning. But Bess, who knew hisnature--he was her cousin--and who saw only what she had feared tosee, frowned as she marked the direction of his glances. In the act ofsitting down she paused, leant over the table, and with a quickmovement swept off the Hollands bottle.
But the gipsy, with a grin, touched Lunt's elbow. And the ruffianseeing what she was doing, fell into a fresh fury and bade her put thebottle back again.
"I shall not," she said. "You've ale, and plenty. Do you want to bedrunk if the girl's folks come?"
"Curse you!" he retorted. "Didn't you say a minute ago that theywouldn't come?"
Giles sided with him--for the first time.
"Ay, that's blowing hot and cold!" he said. "Put the gin back, lass,and no two words about it."
She stood darkly hesitating, as if she meant to refuse. But Lunt hadrisen, and it was clear that he would take no refusal that was notbacked by force. She replaced the Dutch bottle sullenly; and Gilesdrew it towards him and with a free hand laced his ale.
"There's naught like dog's nose," he said, "to comfort a man! The lassforgets that it's wintry weather and I've been out in it!"
"A dram's a dram, winter or summer!" Lunt growled. And he followed theexample.
But Bess knew that she had lost the one ally on whom she had counted.She could manage Giles sober. But drink was the man's weakness; andwhen he was drunk he was as brutal as his comrade; and more dangerous.
She had satisfied her grudge against Henrietta. And she was aware now,only too well aware, that she had let it carry her too far. She hadnothing to gain by further violence; she had everything to lose by it.For if the girl were ill-treated, there would be no mercy for any ofthe party, if taken; while escape, in the face of the extraordinarymeasures which Clyne was taking and of the hostility of thecountryside, was doubtful at the best. As she thought of these thingsand ate her supper with a sombre face, she wished with all her heartthat she had never seen the girl, and never, to satisfy a silly spite,decoyed her. Her one aim now was to get her out of the men's sight,and to shut her up where she might be safe till morning. It was apity, it was a thousand pities, that Henrietta had not stayed in thesmugglers' oven! And Bess wondered if she could even now persuade herto return to it. But a glance at Henrietta's haggard face, on whichthe last twenty-four hours had imprinted a stamp it would take manytimes twenty-four hours to efface, warned her that advice--short ofthe last extremity--would be useless. It remained to remove the girlto the only place where she might, with luck, lie safe and unmolested.
In this Henrietta might aid her--had she her wits about her. ButHenrietta did not seem to be awake to the peril. The insolence of thegipsy's glances, which had yesterday brought the blood to her cheeks,passed unnoted, so complete was her collapse. Doubtless strength wouldreturn, nay, was even now returning; and presently wit would return.For her nerves were young, and would quickly recover their tone. Butfor the moment, she was almost comatose. Having eaten and drunk, shesat heavily, with her elbow on the table, her head resting on herhand. The sleeve had fallen back from her wrist, and the gipsy lad'seyes rested long and freely on the white roundness of her arm. Herfair complexion seduced him as no dark beauty had power to seduce. Heeyed her as the tiger eyes the fawn before it springs from covert.Bess, who read his looks as if they had been an open b
ook, and who sawthat Giles, her one dependence, was growing more sullen and dangerouswith every draught, could have struck Henrietta for her fatuousstolidity.
One thing was clear. The longer she put off the move, the moredangerous the men were like to be. Bess never lacked resolution, andshe was quick to take her part. As soon as she had eaten and drunk herfill, she rose and tapped Henrietta on the shoulder.
"We're best away," she said coolly. "Will you carry the brat upstairs,or shall I?"
For a moment she thought that she had carried her point. For no onespoke or objected. But when Henrietta rose and turned to the settle totake up the boy, the gipsy muttered something in Lunt's ear. Theruffian glared across at the girls, and struck the haft of his knifewith violence on the board.
"Upstairs?" he roared. "No, my girl, you don't! We keep together! Wekeep together! S'help me, if I don't think you mean to peach!"
"Don't be a fool," she answered. And she furtively touched Henrietta'sarm, as a sign to her to be ready. Then to the gipsy lad, in a tonefull of meaning, "The gentry mort," she said, in thieves' patter, "isnot worth the nubbing-cheat. I'm fly, and I'll not have it. Stow it,my lad, and don't be a flat!"
"And let you peach on us?" he answered, smiling.
Lunt struck the table.
"Stop your lingo!" he said. "Here, you!" to Giles. "Are you going tolet these two sell us? The lass is on to peaching, that's my belief!"
"We'll--soon stop that," Giles replied, with a hiccough. "Here,I'll--I'll take one, and you--you t'other! And we'll fine well stoptheir peaching, pretty dears!" He staggered to his feet as he spoke,his face inflamed with drink. "Peach, will they?" he muttered, swayinga little, and scowling at them over the dull, unsnuffed candles."We'll stop that, and--and ha' some fun, too."
"S'help us if we don't!" cried Lunt, also rising to his feet. "Let'slive to-day, if we die to-morrow! You take one and I'll take theother!"
The gipsy lad grinned.
"Who's the flat now?" he chuckled. He alone remained seated, with hisarms on the table. "You've raised your pipe too soon, my lass!"
"Stow this folly!" Bess answered, keeping a bold face. "We're goingupstairs," she continued. "Do you"--to Henrietta--"bring the child."
But, "Curse me if you are!" Giles answered. Drink had made him themore dangerous of the two. He lurched forward as he spoke, and placedhimself between the girls and the foot of the open staircase that ledto the upper floor. "We're one apiece for you and one over! And you'regoing to stay, my girls, and amuse us!"
And he opened his arms, with a tipsy laugh.
If Henrietta had been slow to see the danger, she saw it now. And theshock was the greater. The men's flushed faces and vinous eyes, stillmore the dark face of the smiling gipsy who had raised the tempest forhis own ends, filled her with fear. She clutched the child to her, butas much by instinct as from calculation; and she cast a desperate lookround her--only to see that retreat was cut off. The girls were hemmedin on the hearth between the fire and the long table, and it was hardto say which of the men she most dreaded. She had gone through muchalready and she cowered, white to the lips, behind her companion, who,for her part, looked greater confidence than she felt. But whateverBess's fears, she rallied bravely to the occasion, being no strangerto such scenes.
"Well," she said, temporising, "we'll sit down a bit if you'll mindyour manners. But we'll sit here, my lads, and together."
"No, one apiece," Giles hiccoughed, before she had finished speaking."One apiece! You come and sit by me--'twon't be the first time, mybeauty! And--and t'other one by him!"
Bess stamped her foot in a rage.
"No!" she cried, "I will not! You'll just stay on your own side! Andwe on ours!"
"You'll just do as I say!" the man answered, with tipsy obstinacy."You'll just do--as I say!"
And he lurched forward, thinking to take her by surprise and seizeher.
Henrietta screamed, and recoiled to the farthest corner of the chimneynook. Bess stood her ground, but with a dark face thrust her hand intoher bosom--probably for a knife. She never drew it, however. BeforeGiles could touch her, or Lunt, who was coasting about the long tableto come at Henrietta, had compassed half the distance--there was aknock at the door.
It was a small thing, but it was enough. It checked the men aseffectually as if it had been the knell of doom. They hung arrested,eye questioning eye; or, in turn, tip-toeing to gain their weapons,they cast looks of menace at the women. And they listened with murderin their eyes.
"If you breathe a word," Giles hissed, "I'll throttle you!"
And he raised his hand for silence. The knock was repeated.
"Some one must go," the gipsy lad muttered.
His face was sallow with fear.
"Go?" Bess answered, in a low tone, but one of fierce passion. "Who'sto go but me? See now where you'd be without me!"
"And do you see here," Lunt made answer, and he drew a pistol from hispocket, and cocked it, "one word more than's needful, and I'll blowyour brains out, my lass. If I go, you go first! So mark me, and speak'em fair!"
And with a gesture he pointed to the dairy, and beckoned to the othermen to retire thither.
He seemed to be about to command Henrietta to go with them. But he sawthat in sheer terror she would disobey him, or he thought hersufficiently hidden where she was. For when he had seen the other menout he followed them, and holding the door of the dairy half openshowed Bess the pistol.
"Now," he said, "and by G--d, remember. For I'll keep my word."
Bess had already, with a hasty hand, removed some of the plates andmugs from the table. She made sure that Henrietta was all butinvisible behind the settle. Then she went to the door.
"Who's there?" she cried aloud.
No one answered, but the knock was repeated.
Henrietta raised her white face above the level of the settle. Shelistened, and hope, terrified as she was, rose in her heart. Who waslikely to visit this lonely house at so late an hour? Was it notalmost certain that her friends were there? And that another minutewould see her safe in their hands?
Giles's dark face peering from the doorway of the dairy answered thatquestion. The muzzle of his weapon now covered her, now Bess. Sick atheart, almost fainting, she sank again behind the settle and prayed.While Bess with a noisy hand thrust back the great bar, and opened thedoor.
There was no inrush of feet, and Bess looked out.
"Well, who is it?" she asked of the darkness. "You're late enough,whoever you are."
The entering draught blew the flames of the candles awry. Then awoman's voice was heard:
"I've come to ask how the missus is," it said.
"Oh, you have, have you? And a fine time this!" Bess scolded, withwonderful glibness. "She's neither better nor worse. So there! I hopeyou think it's worth your trouble!"
"And the baby? I heard it was dead."
"Then you heard a lie!"
The visitor, who was no other than Mrs. Tyson's old servant, thestolid woman who had once admitted Henrietta to the house, seemed at aloss what to say next. After an awkward pause:
"Oh," she said, "well, I am glad. I was not sure you hadn't left her.And if she can't get out of her bed----"
"You thought there'd be pickings about!" Bess cried, in her mostinsolent tone. "Well, there ain't, my girl! And don't you come upagain scaring us after dark, or you'll hear a bit more of my mind!"
"You're not easy scared!" the woman retorted contemptuously. "Don'ttell me! It takes more than the dark to frighten you!"
"Anyway, nine o'clock is my hour for getting scared," Bess returned."And as it's after that, and you've a dark walk back---- D'you comethrough the wood?"
"Ay, I did."
"Then you'd best go back that way!" Bess replied.
And she shut the door in the woman's face, and flung the bar over witha resounding bang.
And quickly, before the men, heaving sighs of relief, had had time toemerge from their retreat, she was across the floor, and had dragge
dHenrietta to her feet.
"Up the stairs!" she whispered. "The door on the left! Knock! Knock!I'll keep them back."
Taken by surprise as she was, Henrietta's courage rose. She bounded tothe open stairs, and was half-way up before the men took in theposition and understood that she was escaping them. They rushedforward then, falling over one another in their eagerness to seizeher. But they were too late, Bess was before them. She sprang on tothe widest of the lower steps where the staircase turned in the cornerof the room, and flashing her knife in their eyes, she swore that shewould blind the first man who ascended. They knew her, and for themoment fell back daunted and dismayed; for Giles had put up hispistol. He bethought himself, indeed, of pulling it out, when he foundparley useless; but it was then too late. By that time Bess's ear toldher that Henrietta was safe in Mrs. Tyson's room, with the bolt shotbehind her.