 CHAPTER IX A DOG VIOLATE A great observer of these latter days has advised us to abstain from deep research into the origin of our own names. Otherwise we might become convinced of a lamentable want of lofty tone among those, without whom we could not have been here, to show our superiority, a vein of fine thought is at once set flowing, but for ragless it would have flowed in vain, as dogs have no surname to dwell upon. His case was a strange one, and not without interest. Nobody in our parish had any knowledge of his ancestry, although he had won very high repute by biting many people who got over it. Any other dog would have become the victim of an injudicious outcry, but ragless, by making some other good bites, established his legal right to do it, and was now considered a very wholesome dog, though he might have a temper of his own, but even if he had, who was to blame? Some seven or it may have been eight years since, Miss Cold Pepper was rolling in her carriage down Feltham Hill, when the coachman pulled up very sharply, in just in time to save mishap. All the boys in the village were let loose from school, and with one accord had found a genial pastime, which they were pursuing with the vigor of our race. They had got a poor dog, with no father or mother or even policeman to defend him, and they had put him in a barrel near a garden gate, and tacked in the head so that no escape was left. This being done to their entire satisfaction, what remained except to roll him down the hill, and this they were doing with a lofty sense of pleasure and shouts that almost drowned the smothered howls from within, when the carriage came upon them, and very nearly served them right. Let them have the whip! cried the lady with due feeling, when the footmen had jumped down and reported all the facts, but the ring-leaders had vanished, and the boys who tasted lash were some innocent little ones who had only helped in shouting, and him to me, was her next order, and the poor trembling animal saw pity in her eyes, and gave her face a timid lick, which made his fortune. No claimant being found for him the lady took him home, and aptly called him Regulus, which the servants properly converted to Ragless, reasoning well that the Italian Greyhound wore a coat, but this dog had none save the bristles wherewith nature had endowed him. In the course of time he superseded every other dog and probably every human being in the affection of Miss Cold Pepper. If the early portion of his life had been unhappy, fortune had now made him ample amends, and he should have been in enmity with all mankind, but whether from remembrance of his youthful woes or cynical perception of our frailties and our frauds, Regulus never acquired that sweetness which we look for in dogs so much more than ourselves. His standard of action was strict duty beyond doubt, but a duty too strictly limited and confined to two persons, himself and his mistress, with the rest of creation he was cheerfully at war, though tolerably neutral towards the cook, when she could bid high enough for his consideration, these things made him deeply respected. In person, however, he was not quite a dog to arouse any vast enthusiasm. He belonged to the order of the wire-recoded terriers, if he was a terrier at all, for in him all the elements were so dully mingled that nature could only proclaim him a dog. The color of ginger and that of cinnamon were blended together in his outward dog, and he went on three legs quite as often as on four, as much from contempt of the earth, perhaps as from feelings of physical economy. There was nothing base about him. He had fine white teeth and he showed them, but never made insidious assault on anybody, when he meant to bite he did it quickly, and expressed his satisfaction afterwards. To seduce such a sentry was an enterprise worthy of him, who, in sweet love's service and dispensing its mournful melodies, enchanted the sound of a kidna, and it may have been this sense of difficulty in a sporting desire to conquer it, which led me to follow up the joke and try my hand at a job which had beaten the deepest dog-stealers of seven dials. All day long I hoped to get at least a glimpse, or if bad luck would not allow that, to hear at any rate something of that young lady, without whom my life must grow old and barren. For this was no school-boy affair of the fancy, nor even a light skit of early manhood, such as fifty young fellows have out of fifty-one and go their way quickly after some other girl. I had never been given to such fugitive sport, and I was now in the prime of my years almost, and though I might have looked at maidens, and thought what pretty things they are, none had ever touched my heart until now, and touched is by no means a proper word to use. It should be said plainly that all my heart was occupied and possessed to its deepest fiber by a being far better, and sweeter and nobler than its outer and bodily owner, and that this must abide so to its very latest pulse, as you will truly find if you care to hear about it. Not a word came to me about those things which destroyed all my attention to any other, and the dusk had stopped work, which was my only comfort, and I sat all alone that Wednesday evening trying to get through a little bread and cheese, but glancing more often from our old window at the gloomy rush of the river, which was still in high flood, though some little abated. Uncle Corny was gone, to try and get some money from people who had thriven on his hard-won fruit, and Mrs. Tabby Tapscott had left the house early upon some business of her own. The house door was open for we had not many rogues, till the railway came some years afterwards, and the evening was of those that smell of beehives and corn-stacks, and horses upon their way home. At last when I had made up my mind to be forgotten by every one, in came Tabby as bright as a bun. "'Oh, fi, oh, fi!' she cried, "'What air ye be doing of?' I didn't know supper, and sittin' as if he was mazed amost. Look at thee what the Lord had sent thee! I was forced to go out of the way to Hampton for a year of the long tongues to Zunbury, if this wouldn't vetch Mr. Ragless I'll, I can say, is her bane to dog, wouldn't down in the cellar, when I've learned ye how to use him. From beneath her shawl she produced a little box which she opened in triumph, and the room was filled at once with a very peculiar odor, quite unknown to me. It was pungent rather than pleasant, and it made me sneeze as well as laugh. You be up there by five o'clock when the daisies' eyes be openin' and go to the side door I told ye of, Mrs. Tapscott knew all the household ways at Cold Beaver Hall, through a niece of hers who was kitchen-made, and vang this by the cord out of the heelin' without touchin' ovin' with thy fingers, and dragin' a-thought the grass, and the film the backside of the shrubbery, and then you step out of sight in a luke order. Old dog be put out at six o'clock regular, and his liable heelin' straight to thee, then let an ate a homuck, and kitsch him up vitally, and pop him in the barg, and car on home here, and now so ye what to do with him? The mind is her don't scamily, her be durable it to me. She gave me many other minute directions, and made me laugh so that my spirits rose, with the hope of an interesting little farce, to relieve the more tragic surroundings. I undertook briskly to play my part, looking on the matter as a harmless joke, though I came to think in course of time that the cruel theft I suffered from might partly be a just requittle for this wicked robbery, and yet it was absurd and senseless to make such comparison. Without disturbing Uncle Corny, who slept very heavily, I was up before daylight on the Thursday morning, and set out with a box and bag on my felonious enterprise. Cold Pepper Hall, or Manor, as it was called indifferently, stood back upon some rising ground at a distance from the river, and was sheltered well by growth of trees. There was nothing very grand about it, and it leaned on stucco more than stone, but there was plenty of room both within and without, and any one getting inside the doors might say to himself, was some comfort flowing into him. I am sure that I need never be in any hurry here. The sun meant to get up a little later on, when I jumped the palings of this old demin scene, and a place where of right there should have been a footpath, but the owner of the Manor had stopped it long ago, receiving the superior claims of quietude. Nobody had cared to make a fuss about it, but enough of ancestral right remained to justify me in getting over. Every window of the house was still asleep, and I gazed at it with humble reverence, not as the citadel of the cold peppers, but as the shrine of my sacred love. Then I chose a place of ambushed and a nest of hollies, and approaching the sally-port of Regulus, I drew a slow trail from it across the dewy grass to my lurking place, and there waited calmly. Sweet visions of love from the ivory gate now favored me with their attendance, partly perhaps because love had not allowed me to sleep out my sleep, far as I am from any claim to the merits of a classical education. I had been for some years off and on, as a day-boy at Hampton Grammar School, and could do a bit of Virgil, pretty well, and an old or two of Horace. Whenever Uncle Corny came across a Latin name he would call for me, and take it all together. I had long been considered the most learned young man in Sunbury. Even now I remembered, though most of it was gone, the story of a nymph who placed her son in ambush-gade for Proteus, and the noble description of Regulus on parole waving off the last kiss of his wife and babes. Grimly he said his manly visage on the ground, and my Regulus was doing the very same thing now. Fat Charles had opened the door with a yawn, and sent forth that animal of Roman type to snuff the morning air, and perform his toilet, and pay his orisons in general. Luxurious days had told their tale, and it was too plain that Capua had corrupted Sabine's simplicity. Regulus moved with a listless air, and his desire to find whom he might bite lay dormant, and no sense of iniquity pricked his ears or lifted the balance of his tail. Let the world wag, was the expression of his eyes. I get whatever I want in it, and would wag it also if I were not too fat. It appeared too certain that if I meant to catch him, I should have to go and bag him where he stood. But suddenly down when his nose and his bristles flew up, and every line of his system grew stiff as wire. He had lit on my trail near a narrow flower border, and it presented itself with a double aspect. Was it the ever-fresh memory of a cat, not a cat of everyday life, of course, but a civet cat, a musk cat, a cat of poetic, or even fabulous perfume? Or was it the long-drawn sweetness of a new, embrosial food? Heaven sent to tempt this once lively but now vainly wept for appetite, whatever it might be the line of my duty was marked and beyond evasion. Those of our race who have made a study of dogs, for the sake of example, declare that the best and most noble of them follow quest with their noses well up in the air. Regulus failed in this test of thought. He spread his nostrils affably within an inch of where the worms lay, pricked his hairy ears which were of diverse colors, and with the stump of his tail as the loftiest point of his person ran beeline towards me. In accordance with his fame I made ready for a bite, but to my surprise he paused when he came point blank upon me and seemed taken aback, as with some holy new emotion. After all of the teaching of my nymph I offered him a portion of the magic sap, and while he was intent upon it slipped a stout potato sack over his head, tumbled him in with the push on the rear and shouldered him. Taking the path across the fields I got home without meeting any one, and found Tabby waiting for me near the root-house, which was simply the trunk of a grand old oak with a slab of elm fitted as a door to it. No one was likely to visit this old store-house at the present time of year, and the loudest wailing of the largest dog might be carried on in the strictest privacy. But I meant him to be happy there, and so he was, to some extent, for he seemed to resign himself as if recalling his early adventure in the barrel, and regarded his later prosperity as a dream, and probably the charm of the drug he had swallowed acted benignly upon his nerves. At any rate he allowed himself to be secured by a chain and a fold-pitcher, and even licked my hand instead of snarling and showing his teeth. Every arrangement was made for his comfort, and he lay down as happy as a lotus-eater. After breakfast I took a little turn in the village, and there had the pleasure of seeing Fat Charles, the cold-webber footman, nearly trying to run and looking sadly out of breath. He carried a leading strap, with no dog to it, and under his arm was a bundle of papers, as I approached him with kind inquiries. He drew forth his roll and requested me to read, while he was recovering his breath a little. My face must have turned as red as his, for this was the first theft I'd ever committed, except for some apples from a rival grower, a curmudgeon, who would not tell us what they were. And I felt very queer as I read the following, written in round hand with many capitals, reward of one guinea, lost, stolen, or strayed, a large brindled terrier known as Regulus, the property of Miss Cold Pepper of Cold Pepper Manor. He is very hard of hearing, and a little fond of snapping. Any person bringing him home will receive the above reward, and no questions asked. Anyone detaining him will be prosecuted with the utmost rigor of the law. Charles had a score, perhaps, of these placards written in sundry hands and spelt in diverse manners, as if all the household had been set to work. Oh, Mr. Kitt! he cried, for every one called me that. There is a devil to pay, up to the all, and no mistake. And all of it blamed on me as innocent as the babe unborn, and more so, for only obeying of my orders. What did I do but just turn the brood out? For a brood he is, and no mistake. No wholesome in his bite, because it is his nature too, and no one round these parts would be tough enough on the legs to come forward with a view of make it off with him. Then I shut the door, too, for his quarter-hour errand, as laid down in written orders, issued every night. And my hair stood on end when he never come back, the same as his does when he flies at you. But surely, Charles, some of you must have some suspicion. I asked, with astonishment in my own voice, and wondering what I should come to, though not far enough gone as yet to look at him. Why should the dog go from such a good home? Because he had enough of it. Or we of him at any rate. He ain't been stolen, sir. The dog have that knowledge of the world, that all seven dials couldn't lay attack to him. And everybody knows what our missus is. A guinea would steal a dog for a guinea, let alone a dog who make a pepper-caster of you. No, no. I always said old Nick would come front some blessed morning, and I'm jiggered if he hadn't. But, bless my soul, you mustn't keep me loitering like this, sir. Mother Cutham wouldn't have one to stick up in her dirty old window, Lord knows why. Do you take one, and stick it on your uncle's wall? Or a couple, if you will. That's a dear young man. There'll be thirty more ready by eleven o'clock. It occurred to me that some of them perhaps had been written by a certain lovely warm hand, which had the most delicious way with it that could ever be imagined of stealing in and out of muff or glove, and of coming near another hand, as coarse as a crumpet, in a sort of way that seemed to say, Now, wouldn't you like to touch me? Who on earth can have written all these, I asked. Mr. Charles, why you must have done most of them yourself. Never a blessed one, Lord Saviour. I've been on my poor legs all the morning. Every maid that could fist a few has ordered in, but the young lady fisted them for at the bottom. Making due allowance for his miscreant coarseness, I slipped away the lowest four, and two others, those two I stuck up in the outer face of Uncle Corny's red brick wall, but the other four never were exhibited to the public, or even to myself except as a very private view. And every one of them belongs to me at the present moment. The footman thanked me warmly for this lightning of his task, and hurried on towards Rasp the baker, and the linen draper. So far as my memory serves, Uncle Corny got very little work out of me that day. I was up and down the village till my conscience told me that my behavior might appear suspicious. I even beheld the great lady herself, driving as fast as her fat steeds could travel, to get her placards displayed all around in the villages towards London. Although she was not very popular, and the public seemed well pleased with her distress, I felt more than half inclined to take her dear love back and release him at his own door after dark. But Tabby Tapscott said, and she had a right to speak, Don't ye be wool now, Mr. Kitt! Care the job, true, once we be aboutin'? And just before dark I met Mrs. Marker, and somebody with her who made my heart jump. They had clearly been sent, as a forlorn hope, to go the round of shops where the bills had been posted. I contrived to ask tenderly whether the dog was found. Not he, and never will be, replied the housekeeper. There are so many people who owe the cur a grudge. Why, he even flies at me if I dare to look at him. Miss Kitty, tell Mr. Kitt what your opinion is. I fear indeed that somebody must have shot him with an air-gun. I am very fond of dogs, when they are at all good dogs, but very few could praise poor Regulus, except, except as we praise Mustard, and I heard of a case very like it in London. Her voice was so silvery sweet, and she dropped it, as I thought so sadly at that last word, that I could not help saying, although I was frightened at my tone while I said it, surely you're not going back to-morrow. Do say that you're not going to leave us all to-morrow. Before she could answer the housekeeper said sharply, she was to have gone back to-morrow, Mr. Orchardson, but now Miss Cold Pepper is made up her mind to send for Captain Fairthorne the first thing to-morrow, unless she recovers the dog meanwhile. Not that he knows anything about dogs, but he is so scientific that he is sure to find out something. Good night, sir. Come, Kitty. How late we are! Is it needful to say that Regulus endued a tunic of oak that night? CHAPTER X A character of Captain Fairthorne, better known to the public now as Sir Humphrey Fairthorne, but he had not as yet conferred dignity upon knighthood, will be understood easily by those who have the knowledge to understand it, but neither Uncle Corny nor myself, although we were getting very clever now at Sunbury, could manage at all to make him out at first, though it must have been a great deal easier then, than when we came to dwell upon him afterwards. All that he said was so perfectly simple, and yet he was thinking of something else all the time, and everything he did was done as if he let someone else do it for him. I cannot make anyone understand him, for the plainest of all plain reasons, I could never be sure that I myself understood him, and this was not at all because he meant to be a mystery to anyone, for that was the last thing he would desire, or even believe himself able to be. The reason that kept him outside of our reason, so far as I can comprehend it, was that he looked at no one of the many things to be feared, to be desired, to be praised, or blamed, from the point of view we were accustomed to. I had thought that my Uncle Cornelius, though he was sharp enough always, and sometimes too sharp upon me in my doings, was upon the whole the most deliberate and easygoing of mortals, but a mere glance of Professor Fairthorne showed how vastly the breadth of mankind was beyond me. To look at his face without thinking about him was enough to compose any ordinary mind, and charm away any trivial worries, but to listen to his voice and observe him well, and meet his great eyes thoughtfully, and to catch the tranquility of his smile. This was sufficient to make one ashamed of paltry self-seeking and trumpery cares, and to lead one for the moment into larger ways, and yet he was not a man of lofty visions, poetic enthusiasm, or ardent faith in the grandeur of humanity. I never heard him utter one eloquent sentence, and I never saw him flush with any fervor of high purpose. He simply seemed to do his work because it was his nature, and to have no more perception of his influence over others than they had of the reason why he owned it. So far as we could judge he was never thinking of himself, and that alone was quite enough to make him an enigma. Now, many people suppose, and very naturally too, that my warm admiration of the daughter impelled me to take an overlofty view of the father. People would be quite wrong, however, for in that view I was not alone. Everyone concurred, and even carried it still further, and certainly there was no personal resemblance to set me on that special track. Professor, whereas I shall call him henceforth because he preferred it, Captain Fairthorn, was not of any striking comeliness. His face was very broad and his mouth too large, and his nose might be said almost to want re-blocking, and other faults might have been found by folk who desire to talk picturesquely. But even the hardest of mankind to please in everything but self-examination would have found no need and small opportunity for improvement in his eyes and forehead. I know my own stupidity or at least attempt to do so, when it is not altogether too big, yet I dare to deny that it had anything to do with the charm I fell under in this man's presence, and this is more than proved by the fact that Uncle Corny, as dry and old grower as ever was frozen out, could resist the large quietude of our visitor, even less than I could. For the Captain had been sent for, sure enough, about a little business so far below his thoughts, and when he came into our garden to thank us for all we had done towards the discovery of the thief, and especially to thank me for my valiant services to his daughter, it was no exaggeration at all to say that I wish the earth would hide me from his great gray eyes. Under their kindly and yet distant gaze I felt what a wretched little trickster I had been, and if he had looked at me for another moment I must have told him everything for the sake of his forgiveness, but he, unhappily for himself, if he could be unhappy about little things, measured his fellow man by his own nature, and suspected nothing until it had been proved, and at that very moment he caught sight of something which absorbed him in a scientific zeal we could not follow. A young tree dead, he exclaimed, and with all its foliage hanging, three other young trees rounded injured on the sides towards it, when did you observe this? Had you that storm on Saturday? Yes, sir, it did rain cats and dogs, my uncle answered after thinking. We said that it might break the long bad weather, and it seems to have done it at last. Thank the Lord, there was a lot of lightning, but not so very nigh, and no trees were struck from above, not even that old oak which seems to have been struck some years ago. May I cross the border and examine that young tree? Thank you. Have you ever known a case like this before? They passed very dangerously near the old oak, and I trembled, as that villain of a regular showed his base want of gratitude by a long howl, but luckily neither of them heard it. I went to the door and threatened him with instant death, and then followed to hear the discussion about the tree. You have known it before? Captain Phaethorn was saying, but not for some years, and if you remember right, not when the storms were particularly near. I have heard of several similar cases, but never had the fortune to see one until now. You perceive that the life is entirely gone. The leaves are quite black, but have a narrow yellow margin. Forgive me for troubling you, Mr. Orchardson, but when did you notice this condition of the tree? Well, sir, it kept on raining up until dark on Saturday, and I did not chance to come by here on Sunday, but on Monday morning it was, as you see it now, gone off all of a heap, and no cause for it, as healthy a young tree as you would wish to look at. A kind of pair we call Bore deal, dead as a doornail, you can see. Get a spade and dig it up for Professor. Thank you, not yet. I was going home tonight, but this is a matter I must examine carefully. That is to say, with your kind permission, we use big words, Mr. Orchardson, that sound very learned, and we write very positively from other people's observation. But one case that we have seen with our own eyes and searched into the spot to the very utmost of our power is worth fifty we have only read of. You will think me very troublesome, I greatly fear, and of gardening matters, I know less than nothing, but you will oblige me more than I can say if you will let me come again, and try to learn some little. You know what has killed this tree, I presume? No, sir, we have not got any sense at all about it, my uncle answered stoutly, but it is the will of the Lord when a tree goes off, or more if it is the doing of any chap of mine he goes off to, and there's an end of it, something amiss with these roots, I take it. His boots were tipped with heavy iron, and he was starting for a good kick at the young tree when I ran between and said, Uncle, let it stay just as it is for a day or two. It can't draw anything out of the ground, and this gentleman would like to examine it as it is. Young gentleman, that is a very good point, Captain Fairthorn, as he spoke, looked kindly at me. If I could be permitted to have my own way, I would have a little straw shaken round it to-night, as lightly as may be, without any foot coming nearer than can be helped to it, that will keep the surface as it is, from heavy rain or any other accident. Then if I may be indulged in my crotchets, I would bring my daughter who draws correctly to make a careful sketch and color it, and after that is done, and I have used my trouble lens at every point of divergence, I would ask, as a very great favor, to be allowed to open the ground myself, and trace the roots from their terminal fibers upwards. I would not dare to ask all this for my own sake, Mr. Orchison, but because we may learn something from it, of a thing as yet little understood, what is called the terrestrial discharge. We get more and more into big words, you see, you have known trees destroyed in this way It only happens on certain strata. It has happened here, sir, for generations, said my uncle, trying hard to look scientific. The thunderstorm blight is what we call it. We call anything a blight when the meaning is beyond us, seems as if some trees was subject to it. I never knew an apple tree took this way, but pear trees have been so, times out of mine, though never none but the younger ones. A few years are gone, I can't say how many. Seventeen young pear trees were killed outright, ten in one part of the grounds, and seven in another, and not a mark to be found on one of them. All is dead as doornails when we come to look at them. A blight, or a blast, that's what we call it, and there's nothing to do but to plant another. A truly British view of the question, Captain Farathorn answered with his sweet smile which threw me into a glow by its likeness to a smile yet lovelier. I wish I could tell you how I feel for the English fruit grower in his hard struggle with the climate, the dealers, and the foreign competition. It is a hard fight always, much worse than the farmers, and a season like this is like knocking a drowning man on the head, and yet you are so brave that you never complain. The truth of these words and the tone of goodwill made a deep impression upon both of us, especially upon my uncle, who had to find the money for everything. No, sir, we never complain, he replied. We stand up to the seasons like our own trees, and we keep on hoping for a better time next year. But there are very few that know our difficulties and folk that can scarcely tell a pear from an apple go about the country spouting and riding by the yard concerning of our ignorance. Let them try it is all I say. Let them try it. If they are fools enough, I bless my heart there's a fellow preaching now about the sorting of apples, as if we had not done it before he sucked his coral. But I won't go on mondering. Time will show. Glad to see you, sir, at any time, and if I should happen to be about the grounds, my nephew Kit will see to everything you want. What time shall we see you to-morrow, sir? We were walking to the gate by this time, and Captain Fairthorne pulled out his watch. I observed that he had a true sailor's walk and a sailor's manner of gazing round, and the swing of his arms was nautical. What a time I have kept you! he exclaimed with simple wonder, and I have forgotten altogether my proper business. I was to have tried some special means for recovering the dog we were speaking of. Unless he is heard of tonight I shall have little time to spare to-morrow. I am bound to do all I can for my good hostess. But to think that a dog, and a dog of no benevolence, according to my daughter, should stand in the way of this most interesting matter. However, I will do my best all the morning, and try to be with you by eleven o'clock. If I cannot come then, you will know what the cause is. But even for the best of dogs I must not drop the subject. Now, I thank you most heartily. Good night. What a wonderful man, was my uncle's reflection, to know all about trees, and thunderstorms, and dogs, and covent garden, and yet to let a woman twist him round her thumb, and tread on his child, and turn his pockets inside out. Come along, kit, I am pretty nice-starved. And this wonderful man added yet another crown to his glory that very same night, as I heard, for to him and his wisdom was set down the credit of a joyful and extraordinary event. A young man slouching with a guilty conscience, and a bag on his back might have been seen, if his bad luck had prevailed, approaching a fine old mansion craftily, when the shadows stole over the moon, if there was one, then an accurate observer might have noticed a quadruped of somewhat downcast mean, issuing with much hesitation from a sack, and apparently reluctant to quit his guardian, who had evidently won his faithful heart, but receiving stern orders to make himself scarce, he might next be seen gliding to a gloomy door, uplifting wistfully one ancient paw scraping at the paint where it had been scraped before, and then, throwing his head back, inventing his long pent emotions in a howl of inexpressible sadness, the door was opened and the guardian vanished with suspicious promptitude. Lights were seen glancing in a long range of windows, an outbreak of feminine voices moved the air, and after a shrill and unnatural laugh came a sound of hugging and a cry of, run for your life for his liver, Jane! And of Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Of Kit and Kitty by Richard Dodridge Blackmore This LibriVox recording is in a public domain. Chapter 11 The Fine Arts When the butter that is truly buttering, and the cheddar of the Great Republic are gracefully returned to our beloved grocer, with a feeble prayer for amendment, what does he say? Why, the very same thing that he said upon the last occasion? Indeed, all our customers like it extremely, it is the very thing we have had the most praise for, and this is the very first complaint. In like manner I receive for answer, when I feign would have sent back to that storekeeper love, a few of the sensations I had to pay for, that everybody praised them and considered them ennobling, and was only eager once again to revel in their freshness, and to tell the truth, when my own time came for looking calmly back at them, I became one of the larger public and would have bought them back at any price, as an old man regards his first gaining. However I did not know that now, and could not stop to analyze my own feelings, which might for the moment perhaps be described as deep longings for a height never heard of, all the everyday cares and hide-bound pothers of the people round me, whereas paltry pebbles below my feet, and I long to be alone, to think of one other presence, and only one. Uncle Corny, in his downright fashion, called me as mad as a marge hare, but I was simply sorry for him, and kept out of his way, and tried to work. Tabby Tapscott became a plague, by poking common jokes at me, and the family men on the premises seemed to have a grin among themselves, when my back was turned. The only man I could bear to work with was the long one we called Celsius Bill, because he came from that part of Sussex, and resembled that endless projection. He was said to have seventeen lawful children, enough to keep any man silent. Moreover, he was beyond all doubt the ugliest man in the parish, which may have added to my comfort in his mute society. As a proof of the facility of wedlock, the sharp click of his iron heel on the trellel of his spade, the gentle sigh that came sometimes, as he thought of how little he would find for supper, and the slow turn of his distorted eyes as he looked about for the wheelbarrow. All these, by some deep law of nature, soothe my dreamy discontent. But what was there fairly to grumble at? If I chose to cast my eyes above me, and set my affections out of reach, reason could not be expected to undo run reason, and hitherto what luck had led me, what good fortune fed me with the snatches of warm rapture. Even my own wickedness had prospered, and never had been found out. Surely the fates were on my side, and the powers of the air encouraged me. What a lovely morning it was now, for the fairest of beings to walk abroad, and for me to be walking in the same direction. Although the earth was sodden still, and the trees unripe with summer drip, and the autumnal roses hung their sprays with leathery balls instead of bloom, yet the air was fresh, and the sky bright blue, and the grass as green as in the May month, and many a plant, that is spent and withered after a brilliant season, was opening its rainmen to tempt the sun, and budding into gems for him to polish. The spring that had forgotten trist with earth this year, and been weeping for it ever since, was come at last, if only for one tender glance through the russet locks of autumn. Why should not man who suffers with distresses of the air and earth take heart again, and be cheerful with them? I, and enjoy his best condition, that of loving and being loved. There was enough to tempt the gloomiest and most timid mortal, to make his venture toward such bliss when kitty-fairthorn, blushing softly and glancing as brightly as the sunshine twinkles through a bower of wild rose, came along to me alone, where I stood looking out for her father, although I had been thinking bravely of all the things set down above, not one of them kept faith, or helped me to the courage of their reasoning. Instead of that my heart fell though, and my eyes, which had been full of hope, would scarcely dare to render to it the picture of which it held so many, yet never could manage to hold enough. She saw my plight, and was sorry for it, and frightened perhaps both of that and herself. It is so unlucky, she said, without looking any more than good manners demanded at me. Last night I began to think that all was going to be quite nice again, for that very peculiar dog that my aunt is so strongly attached to just came back, as if he had only gone for a little airing on his own account, and so as to have all the road to himself. He was as fat as ever, but oh so gentle, and his reputation is not quite that. Perhaps you have heard of him, he seems to be well known. I think I have heard of him. Why, of course it must be the dog that was mentioned in the hand-bills. We had two of them upon our wall. Mrs. Marker was speaking of him when you passed on Thursday. Only I could not attend to her. Then you ought to have done so, she replied as if without any idea of my inner thought, for there has been the greatest excitement about it, but I suppose inside these walls, and among these trees, and lovely flowers, you scarcely know what excitement is. Don't I, then? Oh, I wish I didn't, I replied with a deeply sad look at her. It is you who are so much above all this, who can have no idea what real a sort of despair, I mean, is like. But I beg your pardon, you mustn't notice me. How can I help being sorry for you? She asked very softly when our eyes had met. You have been so good to me and saved my life, but of course I have no right to ask what it is, and I know that the crops are always failing, and now you have a dear little tree quite dead. My father has sent me to try and make a careful drawing of it, because it was struck by some extraordinary lightning, and the worst of it is that he has been called away and can hardly be back till the evening. He has invented a new conductor for ships of the navy that are to have iron all over and under them, and therefore want protecting. He had a letter from the Admiralty this morning. Oh, dear, what a pity! What a sad loss, I replied. I am afraid it will take us so much longer without having him here to direct us, and I doubt if my Uncle Cornelius will be able to be with us half the time. Oh, that is just what I was to say. Her tone was demure, but her glance quite bright. On no account am I to interfere with the valuable time of Mr. Orchardson. Indeed I shall not trouble any one, if I may only be shown the poor tree, and then be allowed to fetch a chair or a stool or even a hassack, and then be told where to find some clear water, and perhaps be reminded when the time is one o'clock, I am sure I shall do beautifully. You are certain to do beautifully. There is no other way that you could do. No one shall be allowed to disturb you. I should like to see any one dare to come near you except—except—except Mrs. Tapscott. You see, I have heard of her, and it is so kind of you to think of her. Then I shall be quite happy. Mrs. Tapscott, indeed. No, except me myself. I shall lock that chattering woman in the back kitchen, or how could you ever do a stroke? I am sure it will take you a very long time. There are three other trees that you ought to draw if you wish to show exactly what the lightning did. I hardly see how you can finish today. If you leave off at one o'clock it will be utterly impossible, and my Uncle Cornelius will be in such a rage if you think of going back without anything to eat. How very kind everybody is down here. It is the very nicest place I have ever been in. I will be so miserable to go away. I am not at all accustomed to such kindness. Her lovely eyes glistened as she began to speak, and a tear was in each of them as she turned away. I felt as if I could have cried myself to see such an innocent angel so sad, but I durst not ask any questions and was bound to go on as if I knew nothing. What the little drawing-block you have? I said. You ought to have one at least twice that size, and do let me lend you one. I have three or four, and you can choose which you like of them, and my pencils too, and my color-box. There are none to be had in the village. If you will rest a moment in this little harbor, I will get them all and a chair for you. It did not take me long to let Tabby Tapscott know that if she dared even to look out of the window she would mourn for it all the rest of her life. Moreover, that she must not let anybody know in what direction I was gone, even if his grace of C.G. himself came down, to grant us the best stall he had for ever. Tabby winked with both eyes and inquired if I took her for a wool or a zany or kuchy hoose-bird, and she said she would have some good phonemation by one o'clock, and as I hurried back to the bower there came almost into my very hand the loveliest souvenir-dune-ummy rose that ever lifted glossy pink to show the richer glow within. This rose I cut with the tender touch, which a gardener uses boldly, and laid it on my drawing-block, so that each exquisite tinge and fringe and curve of radiant leaflet, as well as the swan-like bend of stalk and soft retirement of sepul, led up to the crowning beauty of the bloom above them. I never saw anything equal to that, said one who might outvide the whole. Who can have taught you, Mr. Kitt, such knowledge of what is beautiful? She had called me by my village name, and more than that she had let me know that she looked upon me as a rustic. I saw my advantage and was deeply hurt that she might make it up again. You are right, I answered, turning back as if in sad abasement. Miss Fairthorn, you are right indeed in supposing that I know nothing. However, I am able to carry a chair and to wait upon you humbly. Let us go to the tree, and at one o'clock I will venture to come and tell the time. I never meant it at all like that. I could never have imagined you would take me up so. I seem to say the wrong thing always, as I am told every day at home. I hoped that it was not true, but now, now, I have given offense to you, you who have been so good to me. I could never attempt to draw to-day. I will tell my father that I was rude to you, and he will send somebody else to do it. I felt that this would have served me right, but I was not in love with justice. I implore you not to do that, I said. Really, that would be too hard upon me. Why should you wish to be hard upon me? I am trying to think what I have done to deserve it. You are worse than a ground lightning. Then I suppose I killed your trees. I am not going now to be silly any more. Tell me what to do to show that you have quite forgiven me. You know that I never meant to vex you. She looked at me so sweetly that I could only meet her eyes. I declare it would be one o'clock before I have done a thing. Oh, my father say, and I must be so careful. I am sure that you could do it better. Better much than I can. Will you do it while I go and look for Mr. Orchardson? I like him very much, and his fruit is so delicious. No, you won't relieve me? Well, shake hands and be good friends again. May I have this lovely rose to give my father something beautiful when he comes back from London? I saw that she was talking fast, that my prudence might come back to me. She knew as well from my long gaze that I loved her and must always love her, as I to the bottom of my heart knew it, and she did not seem offended at me, only blushed and trembled, just as if some important news were come, perhaps by telegraph, and she wondered while she opened it. For me this was enough, and more almost than I could hope for, to let her keep this knowledge in her mind and dwell upon it, until, if happy angels came, as they gladly would, to visit her, the sweetest of them all might fan it with his wings into her heart. Ah, kid my lad! cried Uncle Corny when he came to dinner and my darling was gone with her sketch half done, and I had only dared to hover near her. Sweetheart, been here, they tell me. What a lary chap you are! When I heard Gepham was gone to town I thought it was all over. I've been wanting you up at the packing shed for the last three hours. No more good work left in you. That's what come of sweet-hearting. Uncle Corny, if you must be vulgar because you have no proper sense of things, the least you could do is not do hola, as if you were driving a truck of rags and bones. 80-toity years ago one would think there had been no courting done since Adam and Eve to your time. Too hot to hold, that's my opinion, and as for rags and bones, young fellow, that's just about what it will come to. A girl won't have six pence by what I hear, though there's lots of tin in the family. I know a deal more than you do about them. Don't pop the question without my leave. What a way to put it! No token had passed between us and no currency had been set up of that universal interchange which my uncle and Tabby termed courting. I felt of every large hope now that the goods I had to offer, quiet as they were and solid, without any spangle, were on their way to be considered and might be regarded kindly. For while I knew how poor I was, in all the more graceful attributes, and little gifted with showy powers of discourse or the great world's glitter, void moreover of that noble cash which covers every other fault, yet my self-respect and manhood told me that I was above contempt. Hotty maidens might, according to their lights, look down upon me, let them do so. It would never hurt me, I desired no haughtiness. That which had taken my heart and led it with no loss to its own value was sweetness, gentleness, loving-kindness, tender sense of woman's nature, and the joy of finding strength in man. For though I am not the one to say it, I knew that I was no weakling, either in body or in mind, slow of wit I had always been, incapable only of enjoying the greater gifts of others, but as I plotted on through life I founded more and more the truth that this is the better part to have. I enjoy my laugh tenfold, because it is a thing I could never have made for myself. But for a long time yet to come there was not much laughter before me. One of the many griefs of love is that it stops the pours of humor and keeps a man clogged with earnestness. At the same time he becomes the guy, and but for all the old jokes that can be discharged by clumsy fellows below contempt. None of these hit him to any good purpose, because he is ever so far above them, but even the smell of their powder is nasty, as a whiff across his incense. For eight and forty hours it was my good fortune to believe myself happy, and thereby to be so, though I went to church twice on Sunday without seeing any one except the parson, who was very pleasant, but suddenly on Monday a few words were uttered, and I became no better than a groan. Her began, were the words of Mrs. Tapscott. Tabby, what the devil do you mean? I asked, though not at all, accustomed a strong language. I tell ye, her began. They never see her no more. Step-mortar, up and down, and vetster. Tabby herself looked fit to cry, although there was a vile kind of triumph in her eyes, because she had prophesied it. Do you mean to tell me? I asked slowly as if I were preparing to destroy her, that Miss Fairthorne has been taken away without even saying good-bye to me. I can't tell nor to but no good-byes. Hermida left unfurry, her begun to London town, and no mistake, Zedag Gert coached myself with the maid of cryin' in her. Without thinking properly what I was about I clapped on a hat and laid hold of a big stick, and set forth upon the London Road, not the Hampton Road, which runs along the river, but the upper road from Halliford, which takes a shorter course through Twickenham. Tabby ran after me, shouting, Be amazed! If ye could fly ye could never or get her, be gone three hour or more, I tell ye. But in spite of that fearful news I strode on, and it might have gone steadily on till I got to London, for there was the track of the wheels quite plain, the wheels of Miss Cold Pepper's heavy carriage, if I had not met our celsy Bill, the Bill Tompkins, whom I may have mentioned. My uncle had sent him to Twickenham, I think, to see about some bushel-baskets, and he was swinging home with a dozen on his head, which made his columnar height some fifteen feet, for he was six and three-quarters without his hat. In reply to my fervent inquiries he proceeded in a most leisurely yet impressive manner to explain that he had not met the carriage, because it had passed him on his way to Twickenham, and might be expected back by now, as Miss Cold Pepper never allowed her horses to go beyond Notting Hill Gate, whence her guests must go on other wheels into London. I took half of his baskets, for he was too long to be strong, and so returned my uncle's gate with half a dozen empties on my head, and a heart more empty than the whole of them. This was almost a trifle compared to the grief that befell me later on, which has left its mark on me till I die, for though cast down terribly I was not crushed, and no miserable doubts came to rend me entwain. Though my darling was gone I could tell where she was, or at any rate could find out in a day or two, and it was clear that she had been carried off against her will, otherwise how could our tabby see her crying? It is a shameful and cruel thing, and of the lowest depths of selfishness to rejoice at the tears of an angel, and I did my very utmost to melt into softest sympathy. To be certain of the need for this I examined Mrs. Tapscott most carefully as to the evidence. I zed him with my own eyesight, good big drops, she said, the size of any hazelnuts, reckon thee mouth be a water and master kid for to kiss them away. This may have been true, but was not at all the proper way to express it. The only thing wrong on my part was what a lovely thrill of selfish hope ran down the veins of sympathy. She wept. She wept. Why should she weep except at having left behind her someone whom she would most sadly miss? Could it be Miss Cold Pepper? Happily that was most unlikely from the lady's character. Mrs. Marker? No, I think not. A very decent sort of woman, but not at all absorbing. Uncle Corny, out of the question. A highly excellent and upright man, but a hero of nails, and shreds, and hammers, and green bays, aprons, and gooseberry knives. But Uncle Corny has a nephew. Good. I am sorry for you, my boy. He came up to me as I was thinking thus, even before he went to his tobacco-jar. You are hard hit, my lad. I can see it in your face, and you shall have no more chaff from me. Very few girls, such as they are now, deserve that any straight and honest young chap like you should be down in the mouth about them. But your mother did, Kit. Your mother did. And I am not sure but that this Miss Fairthorn does, though you can't judge a girl by her bonnet. But I am not going to be over-cobbed like this. If you have set your heart upon the girl, and she on you, so be it. Amen. You shall be joined together. My uncle came up as he spoke, and looked with friendly intentions at me, and yet with a medical gaze and poise which inclined me to be indignant. It takes two parties to make an agreement, I said, neither gratefully nor graciously. Suppose I don't know that? After all the robberies taken out of me? But I know what I say, and I tell you, that if your mind is set upon this matter, you shall have it in your own way. Only, first of all, be sure that you know your mind. Few people do in this age of invention, as they call it, without inventing much except lies. If you are sure that you know your mind, speak out and have done with it. I stood up and looked at him without a word. All my gratitude for his good will was lost in my wrath at his doubt of my steadfastness. Very well, he said. You need not stare as if you were thunder and lightning. When you think about it, you will see that I was right. For this is no easy business, Kit, and not to be gone into, like a toss for six pence. I have spoiled you ever since you were a child, because you had no father or no mother. You have had your own way wonderfully, and that makes it difficult for you to know your mind. If that were the only obstacle I ought to have the finest knowledge of my mind, for the times had been very far of a thunder when I had been allowed to follow my own way. But I knew that Uncle Corny took the other view, and he had this to bear him out, that he always managed that my way should be his way. It was not the time to argue out that question now, and one of my ways most sternly barred was that of going counter to him in opinion. So I only muttered that he had been very good to me. I have, he continued, and you are bound to feel it. Five shillings a week you have been receiving ever since you could be trusted to lay in a tree, as well as your board and lodging and your boots and all except tailoring. Very well, if you set up a wife you will look back with sorrow on these days of affluence, but to warn you is waste of words in your present frame, only I wish you to hear both sides. I have no time now, but if you like to come to me when I have done up my books, I will tell you a little story. This promised very readily not only to keep him on my side, but because I saw that he knew much, not generally known in Sunbury, of the family matters which concerned my love and therefore myself even more than my own, and, while he was busy with his books which he kept in a fashion known only to himself, I strolled down the village in the feeble hope of picking up some tidings. It was pleasant to find, without saying much, that our neighbors felt a very keen and kind interest in our doings. There was scarcely a woman who was not ready to tell me a great deal more than she knew, and certainly not one who did not consider me badly treated, Ms. Fairthorn, by her sweet appearance and gentle manner, had made friends in every shop she entered, and the story of her sudden and compulsory departure became so unsatisfactory that deep discredit befell our two policemen, but the only new point I discovered bearing it all upon my case was gained from widow Cutham. This good lady was now in bitter feud with the House of Cold Pepper, although she made it clear that the loss of her custom had nothing to do with it, being rather a benefit than otherwise. She told me with much dramatic force some anecdotes of Ms. Monica, the younger daughter of Squire Nicholas and a daughter by no means dutiful. She had married against her father's wish, the Honorable Tom Bullrag, a gambler and a drunkard, and, if reports were true, a forger. As this appears in my uncle's tale it need not have been referred to, but to show that the lady's early records were not fair among us, after impressing upon me the stern necessity of silence, as to these and other facts Mrs. Cutham ended with a practical exhortation, depended upon the question whether I had a spark of manhood in me. I replied that I hoped so, but as yet had few opportunities for testing it. Then, Mr. Kitt, she proceeded with her head thrown back and one fat hand clenched, there is only one thing for you to do, to run away with young lady. Don't stop me if you please, Master Kitt. You have no call to look as if I spoke treason. Better men than you has done it, and better young ladies has had to bear it. This is what the Lord has ordained whenever he has made two innocent young people and the wicked hold counsel together against them. You go home and dwell upon it. Sure as I am talking to you now you'll be sorry till you're dying day if you don't behave a little spirity. Do you think I would ever give such advice to a wild young man with no principles? To a fellow I mean like Sam Henderson, but I know what you are well enough, and every girl in Sunbury knows. It is not for me to praise you to your face, but you are that solid and thick-built, that a woman might trust you with her only daughter, and that makes you slow to look into women. If I may be so bold to ask, how do you take the meaning of it for that sweet Miss Kitty to be fetched home so promiscuous? Mrs. Cutlam, I answered with a penetrating look to show her that she underrated me. I fear it must be that some mischief-maker was written up to say that I—that I—you know what I mean, Mrs. Cutlam? Yes, sir, and you mean well so far, and everything straightforward. But you ain't got near the hard forward, Master Kitt. Nor your uncle, neither. I'll be bound. Want some woman's wits for that? What on earth do you mean? It is bad enough. I don't see how even a woman can make it any worse than it is. Speak out what you mean, since you have begun. Well, sir, it is no more than this. You mustn't be put out by it. Suppose there is another young gent in the case, a young gent in London they means her to marry. The good-natured woman looked so knowing that I thought she must have solid proof, and perhaps the deed was done already. I tried to laugh, but could only stare and wonder what was coming next. Oh, Master Kitt! She went on with her apron to her eyes, or she was kind of hard. You used to come and play down here when your head wasn't up to the counter. And I had my Cutlam then, and he gave you up any because you was so natural. Don't you be stuck on a heap like that, or I'll come and think that all women is wicked. It was only a bad thought of my own. I have nothing to go by if I were to die this minute, and the same thought might come across to anyone. Don't think no more about it. There's a dear young man. Only keep your eyes open, and if you can manage to come across that stuck-up Jenny Marker, the least she can do after saving her life, is to tell you all she knows, and to take your part. But don't you believe more than half, she says. I never would say a single word against her. There's no call for that being known as she is to every true woman in Sunbury, but if she's not a double-faced gossiping hussy, as fancies that gold chain makes the lady of her, and very likely no gold after all, why I should deserve to be taken up, and there's no one has ever said that of me. Here Mrs. Cutlam began to cry at the thought of being taken to the station, and I saw that time alone would comfort her, yet ventured to say a few earnest words about her position in high character, and presently she was quite brisk again. I bless my heart, she said, looking about for a box of matches on the onion's shelf. I ought to have stuck up my candle in the window. Pretty well half an hour, Argonne. Not that no customer comes after dark, nor many by daylight for that matter. Ah, Master Kit, I am a poor lone widow, but you are the nicest young man in Sunbury, and I wish you well, with all my heart I do, and mind one thing, whatever you do, if you ever carries out what I was saying, here's the one as well help you do it, in a humble way, and without much money. A nice front drawing-room over the shop, bedroom and chamber suit to match, only twelve shillings a week for it all, and the use of the kitchen fire for nothing, and the window when the landing looks on the river Thames, and the boats, and the barges, and the fishermen. Oh, Mr. Kit, with Mrs. Kitty now and then, it would be like the Garden of Eden. CHAPTER XIII of Kit and Kitty by Richard Dodridge Blackmore, this LibriVox recording is in a public domain. CHAPTER XIII MY UNCLE BEGINS That last suggestion was most delicious, but it came too late to relieve the pang of the horrible idea first presented. I could not help wondering at my own slow wit, which ought to have told me that such a treasure, as my heart was set upon, must have been coveted long ere now, by many with higher claims to it. Was it likely that I, a mere stupid fellow, half-erustic and of no position, birth or property, should be preferred to the wealthy, accomplished and brilliant men, who were sure to be gathering round such a prize? Black depression overcame me, even as the smoke of London, when the air as muggy falls upon some country village, wrapping in funeral gloom the church, the trees, the cattle by the pond, and the man at the window with his newspaper. I could not see my way to eat much supper, and my uncle was crusty with me. I can't stand this much more, he said, as he finished the beer that was meant for me, a plague on all girls and the muffs as well that goes spooning after them. I, the Lord, might just as well never have made a William's pair, or a cat's head coddling. Suppose you don't even want to hear my story. You don't deserve it, anyhow. Better put it off till you look brighter, for there isn't much to laugh at in it, unless it is the dunderhead folly of a very clever man. However I begged him to begin at once, for he had hinted that his tail would throw some light on the subject most important in the world to me. So I filled him five pipes that he might not haunt about, and made his glass of rum and water rather strong, and put the black stool for his legs to rest on, and drew the red curtains behind his head, for the evening was chilly and the fire cheerful. Like to do things for myself, he muttered while accepting these little duties. Nobody else ever does them right, though meaning it naturally for the best. Well, you want to hear about those people, and you shall hear all I know, my lad, though I don't pretend to know half of it all. But what I know I do know, and don't talk at random like the old women here, will take them in branches, male and female, until they unite or pretend to do it, but a very poor splice, the same as you see if you send for Camellias to Portugal. A great clumsy stick out at the heel of the graft, and the bark grinning open all along. Ha! There's no gardeners like Englishmen, though we run them down for fear of boasting. Did you ever hear why Professor Fairthorn would ever so much rather be called Captain, though Professor sounds ever so much better? Perhaps he has a legal right to be called Captain, but not to the other title. I have heard that hundreds of people call themselves professors without any right to do it, and I'm sure he would never like to be one of them. That has got nothing to do with it. He has held some appointment that gave him the right to the title, if he liked it. The reason is that his wife always calls him Professor, and so it reminds him of her. Don't you be in this outrageous hurry for a wife of your own, Master Kit, I say? For all I know the Captain may have been as wild for her some time as you are for your kitty. What can you say to that, my lad? Why, simply that you don't know at all what you're talking about, Uncle Corny? Why, Miss Fairthorn is not that lady's daughter and is not to be blamed for the whole of her sex any more than you are for the whole of yours. There is something in that. When one comes to see it, my uncle replied, for his mind was generally fair when it cost him nothing. But you must not keep on breaking in like this, or you won't have heard half of it this side of Christmas. Well, I was going to take them according to their sexes the same as the Lord made them, and first comes the lady, as she has the right to do being at the bottom of the mischief. When I was a young man, thirty-year morgon, there used to be a lot of talk about the two handsome Miss Cold Peppers of the Manor Hall down here. There used to be a lot also of coaches running, not so much through Sunbury, which lay to one side of the road, though some used to pass here on their way to Chertsey, and there was toodle-toodle along Father's Walls three or four times a day. But the most of them went further back, along the Staines and Windsor Road, where the noise was something wonderful, and it's my opinion that these railway things will never be able to compare with it. They may make as much noise for the time, but it seems to be over before the boys can holla. Lots of young sparks, and bucks, and dandies, and Corinthians, and I forget what else. But all much finer than you can see now used to come down by the coaches, then, some of them driving, some blowing the horn, some upon the roof like Mary Andrews, making fools of themselves, as we should call it now, and not be far wrong, either. They were much bigger men than I see now in their sighs and their way of going on, and their spirits and their strength of life and likewise in their language, and the manners of the time where as different as can be, more frolicsome-like and free and jovial, and they talked about the ladies, and to them also, ten times as much as they do now, and things were all together merrier for them that had the money, and no worse for them that hadn't got it so far as I can see. Ah, there was something to be done in growing then. Pineapples ordered a guinea-pound, and grapes at fifteen shillings, though, of course, you didn't always get your money. I'm blessed if I won't have another glass of rum and water. Well, old Squire Nicholas, as they call him now, was proud as punch of his two fine daughters, and expected them to marry at least an earl apiece by their faces and fine figures, and they went about with great folk in town, and to court, and all that sort of thing, looking fit to marry the king, almost, in their velvets and their satin furbellos. The eldest daughter was Arabella, our Miss Cold Pepper to this day, and the other was Miss Monica. As fine a pair of women as a lord ever made, but for all that, see what they come to? There was no love-loss between them even then, jealous of one another, no doubt, like two cats over a fish-bone. Some said that one was a handsomer of them, and some said the other. There was a good bit of difference between them, too, though any fool could tell they were sisters. Such eyes and noses, as you won't see now, and hair that would fall to their knees, I've been told, and complexions as clear as a white-heart cherry, and a cock of the chin and a lordly walk. They deserved the name they went by in London, the two bright sons of Sunbury. But after all, what good came of it! One is an old maid, and the other, well, not very likely to go to heaven, though she hasn't had much of that yet on earth. Kit, I have seen a deal of women, as much as is good for any mortal man, and I tell you the first thing, and the second, and the third, and the whole to the end of the chapter of them depends upon their tempers. Ah, those two beauties were beauties at that, but Miss Monica ever so much the worse. It seems that they both might have married very well. If it had not been for that stumbling block, many young women go on so soft, and high, you so pleasant, and blush so sweet, that she'd fancy almost there was no such thing as a crossword, or a spitfire look, or a puckered forehead in their constitution. And angels is the name for them, until it is too late to fly away. But these two misses had never learned how to keep their tempers under for a week together. And it seems that they never cared enough for any one to try to do it. Till there came a man with a temper ten times as bad as both of theirs put together, and then they fell in love with him hot and hearty. This was a younger son of Lord Rormor, a nobleman living in North Wales, or Ireland, I won't be certain which, and he was known to be the honourable Tom Bullrag, used to drive the Windsor coach from London down to Hounslow, for the passengers could stand him, while the stones and air were noisy, but there he was forced to get down from the box, for nothing that lived, neither man, nor horse, nor cow in the ditch, could endure this gentleman's language when there was too much silence to hear it in. I suppose he was quiet among the ladies, as many men are, who can speak no good, and perhaps our two ladies fell in love with him because he was a bigger sample of themselves. Not that they ever used swearing words, only thought them, as it were, and let other people know it. Anyway, both of them took a fancy to him, though their father would not hear of it, for the gentleman was not wealthy enough to have any right to such wickedness. Perhaps that made them like him all the more, for they always flew in the face of Providence, and for doing of that they both paid out, as generally happens here, that we may see it. So far as I can tell, and I had better chances of knowing than any one else outside the house, everything was settled for the Honorable Tom to run away to Bath with Miss Arabella, with special license and everything square, for whether she was touched in the heart about her father, whose favorite she had always been, or whether her lover came out too strong in his usual style, or whether her sister Monica had egged her onto it. Sure enough, she blazed out into such a fury, just when they were starting, and carried on so reckless that the Honorable Tom, who had never quite made up his mind, was frightened of what she would be by and by, and locked her in a tool-house at the bottom of the grounds, and set off with Miss Monica that same hour, changing the name and the license, and married her. Without being too particular, you might fairly suppose that a job of this kind was not likely to end well. Miss Monica had taken with her one, what shall I say, certainly not servant or attendant, or inferior in any way. My uncle here seemed to feel a certain want of power to express himself, and I knew that he was beating about the bush of the one and only romance of his dry and steady life. He turned away so that I could not see his eyes, and I did not wish to look at them. Well, that is neither here nor there. He continued, after pushing more tobacco into a pipe too full already. But she took away a young lady of this neighborhood, to whom she appeared to be much attached, and who alone had any power to control her furious outbreaks, just because she always smiled at them as soon as they were over. The sweet-tempered girl could never quite believe that the fury was in earnest because it was so far beyond her own possibilities, and the woman of fury did a far worse thing than the wrecking of her own stormy life. She also wrecked a sweet and gentle, loving, reasonable heart. Never mind that. It often happens. And what does the selfish fury care? Miss Monica became, as I have said, the honorable Mrs. Bullrag, and then she reaped the harvest she had sown. For the first place, if I count Roarmore, being a hot-headed man likewise, stopped every farthing of his son's allowance, and said, Go to your new father. Your pretty cousin Rose, with five thousand pounds a year, was ready to marry you, in spite of all your sins, and you promised to marry her. You have taken one of those two girls who were called the bright sons of Sunbury, till people found out what they were and called them the two raging sons. Now rage her down, if you can, and you ought to be more than a match for a woman. In any case, expect no more from me. Then the young man came to Squire Nicholas and screwed himself down to eat humble pie. The Squire said, Sir, you have married my daughter without asking my leave, and against it, and still I have a dutiful daughter left. She is my only one, henceforth. Then the young man broke into the strongest language ever yet heard at Cold Pepper Hall. Although it had never been weak on that line, he was very soon shone the outside of the door and got drunk for the night at the bell and dragon. Then began the rough and tumble work between those two, the hugging and the hating, and the billying and the bullying, the kissing and the kicking, all and every up and down of laughing, sobbing, scratching, screeching, that might be in a wild hyena's den. How they contrived to hold together so long as they did, Heaven only knows. Or perhaps the opposite place to Heaven. There must have been some fierce love between them, some strange suitability, as if each perceived the worst part of himself or herself and the other, and flew to it, as well as flew at it. What kept them together was a mystery, but what kept them alive was a darker one. Without friends or money or credit or visible robbery, they fought on together for five or even six years. Now here, now there, three children they had, and fought over them, of course, and perhaps began to teach them to fight each other, at least so far as example goes. But suddenly this queer union was broken up forever. Mr. Bolrag did something which risked his neck. He believed that Squire Nicholas was bound to contribute to the support of his grandchildren, and he made him do his duty without knowing it. Then, having arranged for a three-days start, he was well upon his voyage before pursuit began. It is not very easy to catch a man now, when he has a good start and knows the world, but five and twenty years ago it was generally given up as a bad job, unless the reward was astounding. No reward was offered, and the Honorable Tom was next heard of from South America, where there seemed to be a lot of little states, which never allow their civil wars to abate their wars with one another. This condition of things was exactly to his taste. His courage and strong language made their way. He commanded the forces of one great republic with the title of Marshal Torobell, and he promised to send some money home in the last letter ever received from him. His deserted wife said after that that she truly would believe in everything if she ever saw a ten-pound note from her beloved husband, but she never was put to the trial. For the next news was that he was dead. He had found it much to his advantage to learn to swear in Spanish, and being proud of this, because he had little other gift of lingo, he tried it upon a young Spanish officer who did not take it cordially. After parade they had a private fight, and Marshal Torobell could swear no more, even in his native language, his friends, for he seemed to have been liked out there, wrote a very kind letter in bad French, telling how grand he had been, and how faithful, but grieving that he had left no affairs to place them in a state to remember him. Then the Marshal's widow bought expensive mourning, for he had left with her a thousand pounds of the proceeds of his forgery, and wrote to his father, Lord Roarmore. Kit, I have found that one can generally tell what a man will do in certain cases, from a rough outline of his character, what a woman will do no man can tell, though he fancies he knows her thoroughly. My Lord Roarmore was a violent man, and hot more than hard in his resolution, and he took it very kindly that his son, when driven hard, had forged the name of the father-in-law and not of the father, as he might have done, he was beginning to relent already, and finding it too late, naturally relented altogether. He talked of his noble and gallant son, and although himself in difficulties, bravely settled five hundred pounds a year upon the widow and the little ones. I daresay you are surprised, my lad, that I should have come to know so much of this unhappy story. More, I believe, than is even known by the lady's own sister, our Miss Cold Pepper. Women are slower to forgive than men, and slower in beginning to be forgiven. Arabella has never forgiven her sister for running away with her lover, and Monica has never forgiven her sister for making such a fuss about it. They may try to bowl together, when it suits their purpose, but the less they see of one another the greater the chance of their reconciliation. But I am not come to the poor captain yet. And, bless my heart, it's ten o'clock. What a time to stay up about other people's business. If you want to hear the rest, you must have it to-morrow. All through the following day we were forced to be hard at work, whether we liked it or not, gathering a large lot of early apples, such as Keswick, Sugarloaf, and Julian, which would have been under the trees by this time in an early season, but this, through the chill and continual rain of the time that should have been summer, was the latest season within human memory, which, like its owners, is not very long. And now a break-up of the weather was threatened, at which we could not grumble having now enjoyed ten days without any rain, a remarkable thing in much better years than this. And in this year it truly was a godsend, helping us to make some little push, before the winter closed over us and comforting us to look up to heaven without being almost beaten down. The people who live in great cities where they need only go a few yards all day long, and can get beneath an awning or an archway, if a drop of rain disturbs their hats, give the weather ten bad words for every one we give it, though we are bound to work in it and worse than that, have our livelihood hanging upon it. Not that we are better pleased than they, only that our more wholesome life and the strength of the trees in the unexhausted air put us into a kinder spirit to make the best of things that are ordered from above. Few things in a manner of ordinary work become more weary some after a while than the long-continued gathering of fruit. The scent, which is delightful to those who catch a mere whiff of it in going by, becomes most clawing and even irksome to those who have it all day in their nostrils, and the beauty of the form and color, too, and the sleek gloss of each fine sample lose all their delight in the crowd of their coming, and make us even long to see the last of them. Every man of us, even Uncle Corny, to whom every basket was grist for the mill, felt heartily glad when the streaky sunset faded softly into dusk, when flat leaf looked as round as fruit and apples knocked our heads instead of gliding into the ready hand. Oh, mind one thing, said my Uncle with a yawn, when after a supper of liver and bacon knowingly fried by Mrs. Tabby, his pipe was between his teeth and all his other needs were twoured. If I go on with my tale to-night, I am likely enough to leave out something which may be the gist of it, for I feel that sleepy after all this job, that I can scarcely keep my pipe alight. However, you have worked well today and shown no white feather for your sweet heart's sake, and, of course, you want to know most about her, and how she comes into this queer tale. Poor young thing, she smiles as sweetly as if she trod a path of roses instead of nettles and briars and flint. I suppose she forgets her troubles whenever she looks at you, my lad. This made my heart beat faster than any words of his tale I had heard till now, as if she cared for me, as if it were possible for anyone to imagine that she would ever look twice at me. Uncle Corny, I thought you were a wiser man. I hope that this might lead him on. To be sure I was making a mistake, he answered looking as if it were just the same thing. When I said you, I meant, of course, Sam Henderson, the racing man. That's the young fellow that has her heart. How beautifully she smiled when I mentioned him and blushed when I said he was the finest fellow anywhere round Sunbury, and the steadiest and the cleverest. No, no, kid, it's all my fun. You needn't be looking at the carving-knife. You know how I hate Sam Henderson, a stuck-up puppy, and a black leg, too, according to my ideas. A girl who respects herself, as your kitty does, would have nothing to say to him. But she might to a fine young gardener, perhaps. Well, I have told you all about the first marriage and the widowhood of that precious Monica cold-pepper. What fools, men are! What wondrous fools! Here was a widow, not over-young, with a notorious temper and no money, or none of her own at any rate, and hampered with three children. Let me tell you their names while I think of it. Euphrasia, Donovan, and Geraldine. There's no duty to pay on a name, you know. Now would not anyone have sworn that a woman like that might wear the weeds until she had stormed herself to death? Not a bit of it, my lad. She married again, and she married the cleverest man in London. And more than that, she got every farthing of his property settled upon her, although the poor man had a child of his own, and I'm told that she might have a dozen other men. She was still a fine woman, certainly, for it must have been some twelve years ago, and she is a fine woman to this day, according to those who have seen her, which I hope I may never do, for reasons I will not go into. But beside her appearance what one thing was there to lead a sane man to marry her, and a man who had lost a sweet-tempered wife, a beautiful, loving and modest woman, as like your kitty is two peas. Sometimes I feel sorry for him when I think of his former luck, and sometimes I'm glad that he has served out for making such a horrible fool of himself. Nearly any other man would have hung himself, for the lady has gone from bad to worse, and is now a thorough termigant, but this man endures her as if she were his fate. You know who he is? You must know now. Yes, I have known it, since you began, and from what other people said, I suspected it before. As I answered thus, I was thinking how this condition of things would affect my chance. You don't seem at all astonished, Kit. My uncle went on with some disappointment at losing his sensation. You young folk have so little sense that you make it a point of honour never to be surprised by anything. If anybody had told me, without my knowing it already, that a man of great intellect like Professor Fairthorne would make such a fool of himself, and then submit to have no life of his own, I should have said it was a crazy lie. But there is the truth, my boy, not to be got over and far worse than at first sight appears. A man who robs himself may be forgiven, but not a man who robs his children. It is a difference between suicide and murder. Very likely you're a surprise that I, who have not a six pence at stake and not even a friend involved in the matter, should get so hot about it as I can't help being. There are plenty of virgos in the world. There are plenty of good men who cower before them for the sake of their own cowered peace. Also there are robberies and abundance of children who cannot defend themselves and of people who can. So far as that goes, and ninety-nine men and a hundred would say, Well, this is no concern of mine. It is a very sad and shameful thing, but it does not touch my bread and cheese. Great is truth and it will prevail, and I hope I may live to see it. But, kid, my boy, the worst wrong of all was mine. A deadlier wrong has been done to me than of money or lands, or household peace. My life has been wrecked by that devil of a woman, as if it were a toy boat she sunk with her slipper. I did not mean to tell you, an old man cannot bear to talk of such things to young people. Is your whole heart sad upon your kitty? I had never seen my uncle so disturbed before, and to tell the plain truth I was frightened by it. Sometimes I had seen him in a little passion, when he found the man he trusted robbing him, or the dealers cheated him beyond the right margin, or some favorite plant was kicked over, but he never lost his power then of ending with a smile, and a little turn of words would change his temper. But this was no question of temper now. His solid face was hardened as if cast in stone, not a feature of it moved, but as gray curls trembled in a draft, and his hand upon the table quivered. I answered that my whole heart was set upon my kitty, but I knew that I should never win her. If she is true to you, you shall. That is, if you behave as a man should do, he spoke very slowly, and with a low voice, almost as if talking to himself, if you are wise enough to let no lies, or doubts, or false pride come between you. There is no power but the will of God that can keep asunder a man and woman who have given their lives to each other. All the craft and falsehood and violence of the world melt away like a mist if they stand firm and faithful and abide their time. But it must hold good on both sides alike. Both must disdain every word that comes from lying lips, from the lips of all, whether true or false, except one another. Remember that as a rule, my lad, if rogues and scoundrels, male or female, come between you and the one you love. It has been a black streak in my life. It has kept me lonely in the world. Sometimes it seems to knock me over still. I have not spoken of it for years, and I cannot speak of it even now. Anymore? Not any more. He rose from his chair and went about the room as if it were his life, in which he was searching for something he should never find. To turn his thoughts and relieve my own, I took a clean pipe and filled it, and began to puff as if I liked it, although in those days I seldom smoked. This had been always a reproach against me, for a smoker seems to love the contribution to his cloud. Well done, Kit! You are a sensible fellow, said my uncle, returning to his usual mood. Tobacco is the true counter-blast to care. You take up your pipe, and I will take up my parable without going into my own affairs. I never told you how that confounded woman, the Lord forgive me if I bear malice, for I trusted he shares it with me. How she can try to hook the poor professor and, what is still worse, every farthing of his money? Not that I believe, to give the devil his due, that she sought him first for the sake of his money. He had not very much of that, for it seldom goes with brains that stamp their own coinage, but through his first wife, a beautiful and loving woman, he owned a nice house with large premises. In a rich part of London, a rather of the outskirts where the values were doubling every year, as the builders began to rage round it. Also he had about five thousand pounds of hers, which was not under settlement and perhaps about the same amount of his own, not made by himself, for he had no gift of saving, but coming from his own family. Altogether he was worth about twenty thousand pounds, which he justly intended for his only child. This was pretty handsome, as you would say, and he took care not to imperil it, by any of his patents or other wasteful ways. He had been for many years in the Royal Navy, and commanded at one time a new-fangled ship with iron sheathings, or whatever they're called, which are now superseding the old man of war. Here he had seemed to be in his proper element, for he knew the machinery in all that as well as the makers did, and much better than any of the engineers on board, and he might have been promoted to almost anything, except for his easy-going nature. He had not the sternness and strength of will which were needful in his position, and though everybody loved and respected him, the discipline of the ship in minor matters fell abroad, and he was superseded. This cut him to the quick, as you might suppose, for he still was brooding over the loss of his first dear wife, which had befallen him while he was away on some experimental cruise. Between the two blows he was terribly out of heart, and came back to his lonely London house in the state of mind, which is apt to lay a man at the mercy of a crafty and designing woman. Unhappily he was introduced just then to Mrs. Bolrag, and she fell in love with him, I do believe, as far as she is capable of doing it, though she might have flown and had been flying at higher game in a certain sense. She abandoned all others and set the whole strength of her will, which was great, upon conquering him. She displayed the most tender and motherly interest in his little darling daughter. She was breathless with the light at his vast scientific attainments and noble discoveries. She became the one woman in all the world who could enter into his mind, and second his lofty ideas for the grandeur of humanity. Unhappily they were so far apart in their natures that no collision yet ensued which might have laid bare her true character and enforced the warnings of his many friends. Not to make too long a story of it, she led him to the matrimonial altar, as the papers call it, without any solicitor for his best man, but a very sharp one behind her. With the carelessness of a man of genius added to his own noble faith in woman, he had signed a marriage settlement, which gave her not only a life interest in all his property, but a separate power of disposal by assignment, which might be exercised at any time. And the trustees were old allies of hers, who were not beyond suspicion of having been something even more than that. However, she loved her dear professor, as she insisted on calling him, for a certain time, with the fervor of youth, though she must have been going on for forty, and she led him about in high triumph, and your kitty was sent to a poor boarding school. The honourable Mrs. Bolrag Fairthorne, as in defiance of customs she engraved herself, became quite the fashion among a certain lot and aspired to climb yet higher. For if she has a weakness, it is to be among great people and in high society. She changed the name of the poor professor's house at South Kensington to Bolrag Park. She thought nothing of paying thirty pounds for a dress, and she gave large parties all the night long. Meanwhile, he went about his work, and she took possession of every half-penny he earned, and spent it on herself and her children. Her boy and two girls were pampered and indulged while Kitty was starved and threadbare. You have seen the sort of man he is, simple, quiet and unpretending, full of his own ideas and fancies, observing everything in the way of nature but caring very little for the ways of men. He kept himself out of the world she lived in, and tried to believe that she was a good, though rather noisy woman. But suddenly all his good will was shattered, and he nearly shared the same fate himself. He was sitting up very late one night, and the little room allowed to him for the various tools and instruments and appliances and specimens and all that sort of thing, which were the apple of his eye. And by a special light of his own devising he was working up the finish of some grand experiment, from which he expected great wonders, no doubt. I don't know how many kinds of acid he had got in little bottles, and how many, I don't know what their names are, but something of a Kyle, like Ragged Jack, and how many other itemies, as Tabby Tapscott calls them, the Lord only knoweth who made them, and perhaps the men have got beyond even him. At any rate, there he was in all his glory, and he would have given ten years of his life to be let alone for an hour or two. But suddenly the door flew open as if with a strong kick, and the shake and the draught set his flames and waters quivering. He looked up with his mild eyes, and beheld a fury. What do you mean by this? she cried. Here I come from Lord Oglequences, once you left me to go by myself as usual, and on my red Davenport I find this, a fine piece of extravagance. Whose money is it? Well, Monica, it was not meant to go to you, the Professor replied, for he saw what it was, a bill of about three pounds, for a cloak and a skirt and a hat, or some such things which his daughter's school mistress had written for, because the poor girl was unfit to be seen with the rest. My dear, I will pay for it, of course. You have nothing to do with it. It was put on your desk by mistake altogether. Oh, then you mean to do it on the sly, to spend on this little upstart of yours the money that belongs to my poor children. Whose house is this? Whose chair are you sitting on? For, of course, you never have the manners to rise when a lady comes to speak to you. Do you think you will ever make up any by all your trumpery-dibbles and dabbles? I hate the sight of them, and I will not allow them. Hand me that cane with the sponge at the end. The Captain arose under her rebuke, and looked at her with calm curiosity, as if she were part of his experiment. He had never seen a case of such groundless fury, and could scarcely believe that it was real. Her blazing eyes were fixed on his, and her figure seemed to tower in her towering rage. Such folly, however, could not frighten him. And he smiled, as if looking at a baby, while he handed her the cane. You laugh at me, do you? You think I am your slave? She cried as she swung the cane round her head, and he fully expected the benefit. Because I am a poor weak woman, I am to be trampled on in my own house, and come on my knees at these shameful hours, to hold all your golly-pots and fire-hills for you. Look! This is the way I serve your grand science. There go a few of them, and there, and there! How do you like that, Professor? Oh, oh, oh! At the third sweep of the cane among his chemical treasures he had dashed on the floor, among many other things a small-stopper bottle full of caustic liquid, and a fair dose had fallen on her instep, which was protected by nothing but a thin silk stocking. Screeching with pain she danced around the room, and then fell upon a chair, and began to tear her hair in a violent fit of hysterics. It is painful for the moment, but there is no serious harm, said the captain, as he rang the bell for her own attendant. Fortunately the contents of that bottle were diluted, for she might never have walked again, if indeed such a style of progress is to be called walking. It is most unwise of any tiro to interfere with these little inquiries. I was very near a fine result, and now I fear it is all scattered. The next day he did what he should have done some months ago. He took the copy of his marriage settlement to a good solicitor and found, to his sad astonishment, that the boasts of the termigant were true. Under the provisions of that document, as atrocious a swindle as was ever perpetrated, he could be turned out of his own house, and the property he intended for his own child was at the mercy of her stepmother. From the lawyer he got not a crumb of comfort. The settlement was his own act, indeed. There was no escaping from it. It had been prepared by the lady's solicitors, and he had signed it without consideration. All very true, but he should have considered, and marriage was a consideration, in the eye of the law, and a binding one. If the professor wished the solicitor would take counsel's opinion, whether there might be any chance of obtaining redress from equity. But he felt sure that to do so would only be a waste of money. It was a most irregular thing, that in such an arrangement one side should be represented. But that was the fault of the other side which surrendered its own interests. In fact, it was a very fine instance of confidence in human nature, and human nature had been grateful enough to make the most of the confidence offered. If he did not know what the professor is, you might suppose, kit, that he was overcome, and overwhelmed with the result of his own neglect and softness, not a bit of it. In a week's time he amended all his broken apparatus, and the only difference to be noticed was that he never began work without locking the door. His treatment of his wife was the same as ever. He bore no ill will, or at any rate showed none, on account of that strong explosion. And he took then sporth all her fits of fury as gusts of wind that had got in by mistake. It is impossible for any woman to make a man of that nature unhappy. He would have been happier, I dare say, and have done much more for the good of the world if he had married a peaceful woman. But I know very little of those matters. Only, as you have an ordinary mind, be sure that you marry a sweet-tempered woman. To bed, my boy. To bed. We must be up right early. End of Chapter 14