CHAPTER III
A TARDY LOVER
Miss Huxham did not credit for one moment the story which Pence had toldher. It was ridiculous to think that her father would even hint at themurder of an unoffending man whom he had never seen, and to hesitating,timid Silas, of all people. Bella remembered that, months previously,when she had mentioned a chance meeting with Lister--then a stranger--atthe cottage of the Marshely school-mistress, Captain Huxham had not onlyforbidden her to bring him to Bleacres, which the young man desired tosee, but had ordered her to discontinue the acquaintance. Evidently theretired mariner deemed this prohibition sufficient, for he made nofurther mention of the matter. That he gave no reason for his tyrannicaledict, did not trouble him; but because of this very omission, hisdaughter took her own way. By stealth, it is true, lest Huxham shouldexhibit annoyance--for annoyance with him meant wild-beast rage.
Now the girl felt puzzled. According to Silas, her father knew that shehad disobeyed him, and she returned to the Manor in a somewhat nervousstate of mind, quite prepared to do battle for her lover. But, to hersurprise, Captain Huxham made no remark, and behaved much the same asusual, save that at odd times he was more observant of her comings andgoings. In the face of his newly-acquired knowledge this very unusualdemeanour should have made Bella more circumspect, but, beinghigh-spirited, she did not change her life in any way. Also she believedthat Silas had greatly exaggerated the captain's anger, and argued fromhis quietness that he cared very little what she did. She had reason totake this view, for Huxham was not an affectionate parent, and, savewhen things interfered with his own comfort, usually ignored hisdaughter. And on her side, Bella could not subscribe to the fifthcommandment. It was impossible to honour King Log, who had an unpleasantway of becoming King Henry VIII. when contradicted.
Several times, Bella, needing sympathy, was on the point of reportingPence's conversation to Mrs. Coppersley, so as to learn her opinion asto the truth of the preacher's preposterous statement. But the buxomwidow was too much taken up with her own love-affairs to trouble aboutthose of her niece, for whom she displayed no great affection. Sheattended to the house-keeping, cajoled her brother into a good humourwhen necessary, and nearly every evening slipped out to meet Henry Vand,who usually awaited her arrival on the hither side of the boundarychannel. He did not dare to venture nearer to the lion's den, as CaptainHuxham, aware of his sister's desire to contract a second marriage,discouraged the idea. The captain being aggressively selfish, did notintend to lose Mrs. Coppersley, whose services were necessary to hiscomfort. Besides, as she managed everything connected with the domesticarrangement of Bleacres, assisted by Bella, Huxham was spared thenecessity of paying a servant. It was better, from the captain's pointof view, to have two slaves who asked for no wages, and who could bebullied when he felt like playing the tyrant.
To a young girl in the first strong flush of womanhood, life at thesolitary farm was extremely dreary, Captain Huxham rose early andstrolled round his wealthy acres until breakfast, which for him was aGargantuan meal. He then shut himself for the whole morning in his den,where he laboured at his accounts, with a locked door. In the afternoonhe ordinarily walked to Marshely and conversed over strong drink withcronies at the village public-house. He returned to walk around the farmagain, and after supper again sought his room to smoke and drink rumuntil bedtime, at ten o'clock. The routine of the captain's life nevervaried in any particular, even to seeking the quarter-deck once a dayfor the purpose, apparently, of viewing the results of his life's work.Also from his eyrie, the captain, armed with a long telescope, couldgaze at outward and homeward-bound ships, and so enjoy vicariously thesea-life he had abandoned these ten years. Of Bella he took scarcely anynotice.
It was indeed a dull life, especially as Bella was intellectual, andfelt that she required food for her active brain. For some odd reason,which did not suit with his rough nature, Huxham had given his neglecteddaughter a first-class education, and only within the last two years hadshe returned from a fashionable Hampstead school to live thisuneventful, unintellectual life on an Essex farm. She possessed a fewbooks, and these she read over and over again. Huxham was not activelyunkind, and gave her plenty of frocks, ribbons, hats, gloves, andsuch-like things, which he presumed were what the ordinary girl wanted.But he overlooked the fact that Bella was not an ordinary girl, and thatshe hungered for a more moving life, or, at least, for one which wouldafford her an opportunity of displaying her social abilities. Bella sangexcellently, and played the piano unusually well; but her uncouth fatherdid not care for music, and Mrs. Coppersley scorned it also. The girltherefore allowed her talents to lie dormant, and became a silent,handsome image of a woman, moving ghost-like through the dreary mansion.But her chance meeting with the clever young man aroused all her disusedcapabilities; aroused also her womanly coquetry, and stimulated her intoexhibiting a really fascinating nature. Warned that her father wouldhave no strangers coming to the manor, by his own lips, she kept secretthe delightful meetings with Lister, and only when the two met at thecottage of Miss Ankers could they speak freely. Bella thought that hersecret attachment was unknown, whereas everyone in the village watchedthe progress of Lister's wooing. It came as has been seen, to Pence'sjealous ears, and he reported the same to Captain Huxham. Knowing this,Bella was more perplexed than ever, that, as time went on, Huxham didnothing and said nothing. At one time he had been peremptory, but now heappeared inclined to let her act as she chose. And the mere fact that hedid so, made Bella feel more than ever what an indifferent father shepossessed.
For quite a week after his interview with the captain, and his futilewooing of Bella, the lovesick preacher kept away from the farm andattended sedulously to his clerical duties in connection with LittleBethel. The truth was, that he felt afraid of Huxham, now knowing whatuse the captain desired to make of him. For this reason also, Silas didnot report that Bella was engaged to Lister. He feared lest Huxham, in arage at such disregard of his wishes, should slay the young journalist,and perhaps might, in his infernal cunning, lay the blame on Silashimself. At all events, Pence was wise enough to avoid the danger zoneof the farm, and although, after reflection, aided by jealousy, he wasnot quite so shocked at the idea of thrusting Lister to a muddy death,he yet thought it more judicious to keep out of Huxham's way. The oldmariner, as Pence knew, possessed a strong will, and might force him tobe his tool in getting rid of the journalist. Silas was wiser than heknew in acting so discreetly, for the sailor-turned farmer was a moredangerous man than even he imagined, despite the glimpse he had gainedof Huxham's possible iniquity.
Things were in this position when Bella, rendered reckless by herfather's indifference, actually met Cyril Lister in a secluded nook ofthe corn-field, and on the sacred ground of Bleacres itself. Usually thelovers met in Miss Ankers' cottage, or in Mrs. Tunks' hut, but on thisspecial occasion the weather was so hot that Lister proposed anadjournment to the open field. "You will be Ruth, and I Boaz," suggestedthe young man, with a smile.
Bella shivered even in the warm air into which she had stepped out ofthe malodorous gloom of Mrs. Tunks' hut. "What an unlucky comparison,"she said, leading the way along the bank of the boundary channel.
"Ruth left her people and her home, to go amongst strangers, and earnher living as a gleaner."
"But she found a devoted husband in the end," Cyril reminded her.
"Peace and happiness also, I hope," sighed Bella. "I have plenty ofpeace, but very little happiness, save of the vegetable sort."
"When we are married," began Lister, then stopped short, biting hismoustache--"we shall be very happy," he ended lamely, seeing that Bellalooked inquiringly at him.
"That is obvious, since we love one another," she said somewhat tartly,for his hesitation annoyed her. "Why did you change the conclusion ofyour sentence?"
Lister threw himself down on the hard-baked ground and under the shadowof the tall blue-green corn stalks. "It just struck me that our marriagewas very far distant," he said gloomily.
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Bella sat beside him shoulder to shoulder, and hugged her knees. "Whyshould it be far distant?" she inquired. "If I love you, and you loveme, no power on earth can keep us apart."
"Your father----"
"I shall disobey my father if it be necessary," she informed himserenely.
Lister looked at her through half-shut eyes, and noticed the firmness ofher mouth and the clear, steady gaze of her eyes. "You have a strongwill, I think, dear," he murmured admiringly.
"I have, Cyril--as strong as that of my father. When our two willsclash"--she shrugged--"there may be murder committed."
"Bella!"--the young man looked startled--"what dreadful things you say."
"It is the truth," she insisted quietly; "why shirk obvious facts? Forsome reason, which I cannot discover, my father detests you."
"By Jove!" Cyril sat up alertly. "And why? He has never seen me, as Ihave kept well out of his way after your warning. But I have had a slyglimpse of him, and he seems to be a jolly sort of animal--I beg yourpardon for calling him so."
"Man is an animal, and my father is a man," said the girl coolly, "aneolithic man, if you like. You are a man also, Cyril--the kind of firm,bold, daring man I like. Yet if you met with my father, I wonder----"She paused, and it flashed across her brain that her father and herlover would scarcely suit one another. Both were strong-willed and bothmasterful. She wondered if they met, who would come out top-dog; so shephrased it in her quick brain. Then abruptly she added, before Cyrilcould speak. "Be quiet for a few minutes. I wish to think."
Lister nodded, and, leaning on one elbow, chewed a corn-stalk andwatched her in silence. He was a slim, tall, small-boned young man ofthe fairskinned type, with smooth brown hair, and a small, droopingbrown moustache. His present attitude indicated indolence, and hecertainly loved to be lazy when a pretty girl was at his elbow. But onoccasions he could display wonderful activity, and twice had been chosenas war correspondent to a London daily, when one or two of the littlewars on the fringe of the Empire had been in progress. He was notparticularly good-looking, but the freshness of his five-and-twentyyears, and the virility of his manner, made women bestow a great deal ofattention on him. Much more than he deserved, in fact, as, until he metwith Bella, he had given very little attention to the sex. He hadflirted in many countries, and with many women; but this was the firsttime he had made genuine love, or had felt the genuine passion. And witha country maiden, too, unsophisticated and pathetically innocent. So hemeditated as he watched her, until, struck by the firm curve of the chinand the look of resolve on the tightly-closed lips, he confessedprivately that if this country maiden were placed in the forefront ofsociety, the chances were that she would do more than hold her own.There were Joan-of-Arc-like possibilities in that strongly-featuredface.
"But, upon my word, I am quite afraid," he said aloud, following up histrain of thought and speaking almost unconsciously.
"Of what?" asked Bella, turning quickly towards him.
"Of you. Such a determined young woman, as you are. If I make you mywife, I know who will be master."
"My dear," she said quietly, "in marriage there should be neither amaster nor a mistress. It's a sublime co-partnership, and the partnersare equal. One supplies what the other lacks, and two incomplete personsare required to make one perfect being."
Lister opened his brown eyes. "Who told you all this?"
"No one. I have ample time to think, and--I think."
"You asked me to be quiet, so that you could think," he remarked lazily;"may I ask what you have been considering?"
She surveyed him quietly. "You may ask; but I am not sure if I willreply."
"See here, my dearest"--Cyril struggled to his knees, and took her handfirmly within his own--"you are altogether too independent a youngwoman. You always want your own way, I perceive."
"It will never clash with yours," said Bella, smiling.
"Why not?"
"Because you will always wish to do what I desire, and I will always beanxious to act as you indicate. You have your line of life, and I havemine, but the two are one."
"Humph! At school I learned that two parallel straight lines never met."
"Ah, Euclid was a bachelor, and ignorant. They meet in marriage, forthen the two lines blend into one. What's the matter?"
She asked this question because Cyril suddenly let go her hands andswerved, blinking his eyes rapidly. "A sudden flash almost blinded me.Some one is heliographing hereabouts." He stood up, considerably tallerthan the already tall corn, and stared in the direction of the manor,shading his eyes with one slim hand. "There's someone on the roof thereand----"
Bella pulled the sleeve of his coat, with a stifled cry. "Oh, sit down,do sit down," she implored. "It must be my father on his quarter-deck.The flash, perhaps, came from his telescope, and if he sees you--do sitdown."
Cyril laughed and relapsed into a sitting position. "Dearest, yourfather cannot harm me in any way. I have heard of his quarter-deck. Isuppose he has it to remind him of the bridge of a steamer when he wasskipper."
"I hope he hasn't seen you," said Bella anxiously, "for then he wouldcome straight here, and----"
"Let him come, and then I shall ask him to let me marry you."
"He will refuse. He wants me to marry Mr. Pence."
"What!" Lister frowned. "That half-baked psalm-singer? What nonsense,and what cheek. The idea of that Pence creature aspiring to your hand. Iwish we could marry at once. But----" He paused, and shook his head.Lines appeared on his forehead, and a vexed look in his eyes. "It'simpossible," he said with a deep breath.
"Why is it impossible?" asked Bella imperiously and very directly.
"My dear, I am very poor, and just make enough to keep my head abovewater. Besides, there is another reason."
"What is it?"
"I can't tell you," he said in low voice, and becoming suddenly pale;"no one but the wearer knows where the shoe pinches, you know."
"Cyril." Bella wreathed her arms around his neck. "You have a secret. Ihave noticed several times that you have been worried. Sometimes youforget everything when we are together, and your face becomes like thatof an old man. I must know your secret, so that I can help you."
"God forbid." Lister removed her arms, and grew even paler than he was."The kindest way I can act towards you, Bella, is to go out of yourlife, and never see you again."
"Cyril, how can you when I love you so?"
"Would you love me if you knew of my troubles?"
"Try me. Try me," she implored, clasping his hand warmly.
"There are some things which can't be told to a woman," he said sternly.
"Tell them to a comrade, then. I wish to be your comrade as well as yourwife. And I love you so that anything you say will only make me love youthe more. Tell me, Cyril, so that I can prove my love."
"Upon my soul, I believe you'd go to hell with me," said Listerstrongly.
"Yes, I would. I demand, by the love which exists between us, to be toldthis secret that troubles you so greatly."
Lister frowned, and meditated. "I cannot tell you everything--yet," heremarked, after a painful pause, "but I can tell you this much, thatunless I have one thousand pounds within a week, I can never marry you."
"One thousand pounds. But for what purpose?"
"You must not ask me that, Bella," and his mouth closed firmly.
"'Trust me all in all, or not at all,'" she quoted.
"Then I trust you not at all."
"Oh!" She drew back with a cry of pain like a wounded animal.
In a moment he was on his knees, holding her hands to his beating heart."My dearest, if I could I would. But I can't, and I am unable just nowto give you the reason. Save that I am a journalist, and your devotedlover, you know nothing about me. Later I shall tell you my whole story,and how I am situated. Then you can marry me or not, as you choose."
"I shall marry you, in any case," she said quickly.
"Do you think that I am a poor, weak fool, who d
emands perfection in aman. Whatever your sins may be, to me you are the man I have chosen tobe my husband. We are here, in the corn-fields, and you just now calledme Ruth. Then, like Ruth, I can say that 'your people will be my people,and your God will be my God.'"
"Dearest and best," he kissed her ardently, "what have I done to deservesuch perfect love? But do not think me so very wicked. It is not myself,so much as another. Then you----"
"Is it a woman?" she asked, drawing back.
Lister caught her to his breast again. "No, you jealous angel, it is nota woman. The thousand pounds I must have, to save--but that is neitherhere nor there. You must think me but a tardy lover not to carry youoff, forwith, and----" he rose, with Bella in his arms--"oh, it'simpossible!"
"Do carry me off," she whispered, clinging to him. "Let us have a Sabinewedding. As your wife, you can tell me all your secrets."
"Bella, Bella, I cannot. I am desperately poor."
"So am I, and if I marry you my father will leave all his money to myaunt, for he told Mr. Pence so. But what does poverty matter, so long aswe love one another with all our hearts and souls."
"Oh!" Cyril clenched his hands desperately. "Do not tempt me. Only onethousand pounds stands between us. If I had that I could make you mywife within a week. I would steal, or murder, or do anything in theworld to get the money and remove the barrier. But"--he pushed her awayalmost brutally, and frowned--"you are making me talk rubbish. We mustwait."
"Until when, Cyril?" she asked sadly.
"Until Destiny is kinder."
"You will tell me----"
"I tell you nothing. Give me one kiss, and then good-bye for----"
He bent to touch her lips, but was caught and hurled back. Bella uttereda cry of astonishment and dread, for between Cyril and herself stoodCaptain Huxham, purple with anger.