Читать книгу The Star-Gazers - Fenn George Manville - Страница 7

Judith Hayle was busy “tidying up” the keeper’s cottage, which looked brighter since her return home, for there were flowers in glasses set here and there, and she was mentally wishing that father would clean the captain’s double gun out in the wash-house instead of bringing a pail of water into the living-room, to plant between his knees as he worked the rod up and down the barrels.

The girl looked serious, for her sudden return had made her father stern, and she expected to be called upon for more explanation, and a cross-examination, which did not begin.

“Who’s this?” said the keeper, with a quick look through the little lattice. “The missus. Here, Judy, she hasn’t come here for nothing. Go upstairs and let me see her first.”

The girl looked startled and hurriedly obeyed, while her father hastily wiped his hands and opened the door.

Mrs Rolph was close up, and he went out into the porch to meet her, drawing aside quietly and gravely to let her pass.

“Will you walk in, ma’am?”

“Yes, Hayle, thank you,” said Mrs Rolph, speaking in a distant, dignified way, as of a mistress about to rebuke an erring servant.

She passed him, looking quickly round the room in search of Judith, and then, turning her eyes inquiringly upon the keeper, who drew a chair forward, and then stood back respectfully as Mrs Rolph sat down.

“Do you know why I have come here, Hayle?” she said, striving to speak as one who feels herself aggrieved.

“Yes, ma’am. ’Bout sending Judith home.”

“Your child has spoken to you?”

“No, ma’am.”

Mrs Rolph coughed faintly, to gain time. The task did not seem so easy in presence of this sturdy, independent-looking Englishman, and she regretted the tone she had taken, and her next remark as soon as it was spoken.

“Well, Hayle,” she continued, “what have you to say to this?”

“Nay, ma’am,” said the keeper coldly; “it’s what have you to say?”

Mrs Rolph wanted to speak quietly, and make a kind of appeal to the keeper, but the words would not come as she wished, and she turned upon him, in her disappointment and anger, with the first that rose to her lips.

“To say? That all this is disgraceful. I am bitterly hurt and grieved to find that you, an old servant of my husband, the man whom he rescued from disgrace, should, in return for the kindness of years and years, give me cause to speak as I am compelled to do now.”

“Indeed, ma’am!”

“Yes. Out of kindness to your poor dead wife, I took Judith, and clothed and educated her, treated her quite as if she had been of my own family, made her the companion of my niece; in short, spared nothing; and my reward is this: that she has set snares for my son, and caused an amount of unhappiness in my house that it may take years to get over, and which may never be forgotten. Now, then, what excuse have you to offer? What has your child to say?”

The keeper looked at her and smiled.

“Nay, ma’am,” he said quietly, “you don’t mean all this, and you would not speak so if you were not put out. You know that I’ve got a case against you. I trusted my poor lass in your hands.”

“Trusted, man?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s the word – trusted her. You promised to be like a mother to her.”

“And I have been till she proved ungrateful.”

“Nay, she has not been ungrateful, ma’am, and you know it. It’s for me to ask you what you were doing to let your son put such ideas in my poor child’s head.”

“Hayle!”

“Yes, ma’am, I must speak my mind.”

“It is madness. You know it is madness.”

“Yes, ma’am, if you call it so; but that’s how we stand, and my poor girl is not to blame. It is you.”

“How dare you!”

“Because I am her father, ma’am, and my child is as much to me as your son is to you.”

“This is insolence, sir. Have the goodness to remember who I am.”

“I never forget it, ma’am. You are my missus, the old master’s wife. But this is not a matter of mistress and servant, but of a mother and a father disputing about their children.”

Mrs Rolph drew herself up, and her eyes flashed, but the fire was drowned out directly by the tears of trouble and vexation, and the woman prevailed over the mistress directly after, as she said, in quite an altered tone, —

“Hayle, my good man, what is to be done?”

“Hah!” ejaculated the keeper; “now, ma’am, you are talking like a sensible woman, and we may be able to do business.”

“Yes, yes, Hayle, I was angry. I could not help it. All this comes nigh to breaking my heart. It is, of course, quite impossible. What do you propose to do?”

“Forget it, ma’am, if I can.”

“And Judith?”

“Hah! That’s another thing, ma’am.”

“But she surely is not so vain as to – to – ”

“My Judith is a woman, ma’am. Is that vanity?”

“Yes, of course. No, no, Hayle. But, once more: it is impossible.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ah, that’s very good and sensible of you. Now, look here. I have thought it all over as I came, and I am sorry to say what I have decided upon seems to be the best plan. It will grieve me terribly, but there’s no help for it. You and Judith must go away. You will agree to this, Hayle?”

“You mean, ma’am, that we old people are to settle the matter as to what is best for the young folks?”

“Yes, yes, that is right.”

“And what will the young folks say?”

Mrs Rolph hesitated for a moment or two.

“We cannot stop to consult them, my good man, when we are working for their good. Now, look here, Hayle; of course it will put you to a good deal of inconvenience, for which I am sorry, and to meet that difficulty I went back to my room and wrote this.” She took a cheque from her little reticule. “It is for fifty pounds, Hayle; it will cover all your expenses till you obtain another appointment. Why, Benjamin Hayle, how long have you been in our service?”

“A many years, ma’am,” said the keeper gravely; and then he read the cheque over as Mrs Rolph placed it in his hands. “Ah! ‘Pay to Benjamin Hayle or bearer, fifty pounds. – Constantia Rolph.’ A good deal of money, ma’am. And now, I think I’ll call Judith down.”

“Yes – yes, do. I must say a few words to her. Poor girl, I wish her well.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said the keeper quietly.

“Yes: it is not all her fault.”

“Judith – Judith, my girl,” said the keeper, opening the door at the foot of the stairs. “Come down.”

There was the quick rustling of a dress, and Judith came down, red-eyed, pale and wild-looking, to lay her hand on her father’s arm.

“Ah, Judith, my dear,” began Mrs Rolph, hastily. “Your father and I have been discussing this unhappy affair, and, sorry as we are, we feel obliged to come to the conclusion – the same conclusion that you will, as a good, sensible girl, when you have well thought it out – that this silly flirtation cannot go on. It is for your sake as well as my son’s that I speak.”

Hayle felt his child’s hand tremble on his arm.

“You are too wise and too good to wish to injure my son’s prospects for life, and so we have decided that it will be better for your father to leave the place, and take you right away, where all this little trouble will soon be forgotten.”

“And,” interposed the keeper, “the missus has given me this, my dear – a cheque for fifty pounds, to pay all our expenses. What shall I do with it, my dear?”

“Burn it, father,” said Judith, slowly. “It is to buy us off.”

“Hah!” said the keeper, with a smile full of satisfaction, “that’s well said;” and he placed the end of the cheque to the glowing ashes. It burst into flame and he held it till it was nearly burned away, tossing the scrap he had held into the fire.

“Hayle, you must be mad!” cried Mrs Rolph, astonishment having at first closed her lips.

“Nay, ma’am, we’re not mad, either of us,” said the keeper, gravely. “There are some things money can buy, and some things it can’t, ma’am. What you want is one of the things it can’t buy. Judith and I are going away from the cottage – right away, ma’am. I’m only a keeper, but there’s a bit of independence in me; and as for my girl here, whom you made a lady, she’s going to act like what you have made her. She owns to me, in her looks if not in words, that she loves young master, and she’s too proud to come to you and be his wife, till you come to her, and beg her to. Am I right, Judith?”

The girl gave him a quick look, and then drew herself up, and clung to him.

“Yes, father,” she said, in a whisper which caused her intense suffering “you are right.”

“There, ma’am, are you satisfied?”

“No,” said Mrs Rolph in a husky voice, “I am not satisfied, but it cannot be. My son’s welfare is at stake.”

She rose, and tried to speak again, but unable to utter another word, she left the cottage, father and daughter watching her till she disappeared among the dark aisles of the firs.