Читать книгу Men of Mawm - William Riley - Страница 10

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THREE hours later Hannah and Jagger were alone, but for a while neither of them had much to say. To watch the changing expression on the woman’s face you would have said that tenderness and contempt were striving for the mastery on the battlefield of her soul and that the issue was uncertain. Hannah was only thirty but Nature had taken little pains in her fashioning, leaving her angular in outline and pinched in features; and responsibility had unloaded its burden on her shoulders at an age when most girls are unfettered or at worst in leading-strings, for the mother had died when Hannah was fourteen. Ten years later the grandmother, recently widowed, had come to share the home and the income and to add to the girl’s trials. Grannie was masterful; but Hannah was mistress and had no mind at twenty-four to bend her neck to the authority of seventy-five. The encounters that took place were by tacit consent of both parties confined to occasions when the men-folk were out of hearing, and victory was not always on one side, but in the end Hannah triumphed, and her crowning achievement, the trophy of her success, was not in the subjugation but the conversion of her grandmother. In the hour that grannie lay down her arms she confessed that she “liked a lass o’ mettle,” and could rest satisfied that one of the family had “a bit o’ bite in her,” now that Maniwel had turned queer in his head, and had bred a son whose bark was loud enough but who never bared his teeth in the good old moorland fashion. From that time Hannah’s ascendancy had been undisputed, but the conflict, and the anxiety that had attended her father’s accident, had left their mark upon her features which contradicted the parish register by ten years at least.

You had only to enter the cottage to discover at once where Hannah’s energies found their outlet and justification. If her house was no cleaner than the houses of her neighbours it was to their credit and not to her disparagement. Not all the women of Mawm made pretensions of godliness but there were few who did not worship at the shrine of cleanliness, and with no mere lip-service—were they not Yorkshire folk and moor-folk?

“Cleanliness next to godliness?” Yea, verily; and in that order.

There was something about the Drakes’ cottage, however, that was not found everywhere; something not quite definable—a daintiness, a touch of refinement, revealed in the harmony of colours and the sight of flowers, perhaps, and accentuated by the absence of anything that jarred. It was Hannah’s doing, but it aroused neither admiration nor envy in the breasts of her neighbours, none of whom was very concerned to inquire how it was that the Drakes’ home was the cosiest and pleasantest in the village.

Having been sent into the world by a watchful Providence four years in advance of her brother, and installed by force of circumstances in the position of mother to the boy of ten, the girl recognised in the position a special responsibility which she changed into a privilege. Other lads, other young men, rather annoyed her; she treated them with the scant attention that is almost a discourtesy; but she lavished a mother’s as well as a sister’s affection on Jagger, and did her best to correct the faults in his character which the maternal instinct enabled her to remark even before they became apparent to the quick eyes of her father. It was quite in accordance with her nature that she rarely discussed her hopes and fears and difficulties with her father, though she endowed him in her thoughts with all the virtues of the superman; a sense of loyalty to her brother and also a recognition of her father’s ability to deal with the situation held her back. But she lost no opportunity to repress the boy’s tendencies to indulge in a half-feminine peevishness that made him moody and irritable, and,—to one of her temperament—even contemptible. It had the same effect on her father; but what she fought against in herself she could not tolerate in another, so the exhibition of disdain in look or word always brought her to arms.

The room was looking particularly attractive in the yellow light of the lamp and the red glow of the dwindling fire, and as Hannah leaned back in the chair grannie had vacated an hour before and listened to the wind which was now howling about the door, her eyes rested with an appraising scrutiny on this article and that as if she were determining what ravage of to-day would call for first attention on the morrow.

Jagger had not moved from his place on the hearth, and sat with his head in his hands gazing into the embers where he had already built sufficient wooden castles to line the banks of the Rhine. It was one of Jagger’s faults (or excellences, if that is your point of view) that he was ready to build without troubling his brain over much on the subject of foundations.

Hannah’s eyes fell from the two hams that were suspended from the rafters to the bowl of chrysanthemums on the chest of drawers, and finally rested on the big Bible that lay open beneath the lamp, where her father had left it when he went upstairs to bed, and her thoughts were diverted.

“There are some queer ideas in t’ Bible,” she remarked, “some of them he read to-night there isn’t many goes by—not in this neighbourhood, anyway.”

Jagger roused himself and yawned. “I never heard a word he read,” he admitted. “I was putting t’ new shop up and getting some bill-heads printed—‘Drake and Son, Timber Merchants and Contractors, Mawm.’ I could very near forgive Baldwin for sacking me.”

“ ‘Timber Merchants and Contractors!’ ” repeated Hannah with a scornful intonation that ought to have crumpled up her brother like a blighted leaf. “ ‘All kinds of jobbing work promptly attended to’ would be nearer t’ mark. If you weren’t my own brother I should think you a fool. One minute you’re at t’ bottom o’ Gordel and all t’ Scar tumbling on you, and t’ next you’re atop o’ Fountain Fell with your head in t’ clouds. You’d be in a poor way if it wasn’t for father; and it ’ud pay you to take a leaf out of his book as I’ve told you hundreds o’ times. He keeps his head in all weathers, and naught moves him. He’s a pauper compared wi’ Baldwin; but to listen to him you’d think he was a millionaire, like Mr. Harris. ‘As having nothing, yet possessing all things.’ His face fair lit up when he read it.”

Jagger’s lip curled and he spoke impatiently. “It’s a fad he’s got into his head and it’s turned him soft. You ask grannie what she thinks about it! With notions like his no man could make his way—always bending his back for someone else to climb up on his shoulders. I’m tired of being naught but a ladder, but father thinks it’s what we’re here for. You’ve to look after yourself in this world, and leave other folks to look after theirselves.”

Hannah leaned back in her chair and regarded her brother with a scornful look.

“That’s Baldwin’s motto,” she said. “You’d better go partners with him, Jagger Drake. ‘All for my-sen!’ I thought that was what him and you had quarrelled over. You want to know your own mind, my lad, and find out whose side you’re on before you start in business for yourself.”

“I’m not such a mean devil as Baldwin is,” he returned, flushing a little; and his sister replied:

“Happen you dursn’t be; but ‘all for my-sen’ ’ud soon bring you to where he stands. You can’t blow both hot and cold at t’ same time; and you want to know where you are, as I say, before you put your sign up.”

The only reply was a scowl and Hannah changed her tone.

“I’m vexing you,” she said soothingly; “I know you didn’t mean it. It’s as father says, you go t’ straight road if you grumble at t’ ruts; but I wish from my soul you weren’t always looking as if you’d made a meal o’ baking-powder.”

The conversation was interrupted at this point by a knock at the door and the raising of the latch, and as Hannah got to her feet a girl entered the room and unwrapped the scarf that had covered her neck and shoulders. Jagger’s face lost its look of inertness when he recognised the visitor.

“Nay, Nancy! Who’d have thought of you popping in at this time o’ night?” was Hannah’s greeting; but the tone was cordial and not as overcharged with surprise as the words implied.

“Do you call it late?” the newcomer asked indifferently. “In Airlee we should have said the evening was just beginning. I’m not going to bed just yet, but I won’t keep you two up though Jagger’ll be able to lie a bit longer than usual in the morning. Keturah’s only just told me that you’re sacked,” she continued, turning eyes that were more curious than sympathetic on the young man; “and that a stranger has got your job; and I dodged them both and came down to see what you’re going to do.”

“A stranger got my job, do you say?” inquired Jagger as Nancy sat down in his father’s chair. “Who is he?”

He was vexed, and face and tone showed it; it was just another instance of Baldwin’s cursed good luck.

“I don’t know. Somebody who had walked over from Scaleber to seek a job, and heard you rowing.”

“We didn’t row,” returned Jagger. “I just told Mr. Briggs a thing or two that was on my mind as quietly as I’m talking to you now, and then he slipped his temper and went for me tooth and nail. Called me a thief into t’ bargain, and that bides a bit of swallowing.”

“He’ll take you on again,” said Nancy confidently; “not because he loves you, but because he knows when he’s well served; and I daresay he’ll give you your rise, too, when his gorge goes down. You’re short of tact, Jagger. You get naught out of Baldwin by holding a pistol at his head.”

Jagger laughed, knowingly and triumphantly. “I’ve a card up my sleeve that’ll pull Mr. Briggs’ face to twice its length. If he was to double my wage I wouldn’t go back to a man that’s called me thief. I’m starting for myself, Nancy, as soon as I can get a few things together.”

“Starting for yourself—here?” The question was rapped out, and the expression of the speaker’s eyes became suddenly hostile.

“Aye, here,” he replied; and he looked across at his sister so that he missed the shadow that swept over their visitor’s face and left it black. In just the same way does the Tarn that lies on the lap of the wild moor, 900 feet above the village and overlooked by mountains that lift their heads hundreds of feet higher still, display its mood—at one moment calm, unruffled, streaked and dotted with blue, or brilliantly white with cloud reflections; the next, grey and angry-looking as a storm leaps up from the south, making the sky leaden.

Nancy Clegg was only in her twenty-third year, but she was a woman full-grown and quite conscious of her developed powers. There was an air of distinction about her that other young women lacked—an air that had brought men to her side and kept them there even in the city where she had been spending a few weeks with her uncle’s family, and though she was rather sparely built, on the model of the moorwoman, she had none of Hannah’s angularities to destroy the symmetry of her figure, and her black hair and clear black eyes together with a straight, fine nose and expressive lips would have made her noticeable in any company and aroused admiration in most. Few women ever had their features in better control than she; but there were occasions when she gave them free play and this was one of them. Hannah noticed the change, and her mouth tightened.

“Oh, I see!” said Nancy, and the coldness in the voice caused Jagger to look up. Instantly his face fell as he saw that his communication was ill-received.

“Why shouldn’t I?” he inquired petulantly. “I should never have thought of starting for myself if he hadn’t sacked me, but you can’t always be lying down and letting a man wipe his feet on you. A bit of competition’ll do Baldwin good, and teach him a lesson!”

“I suppose you won’t expect me to congratulate you, seeing that I’ve an interest in the business?” she replied coldly; and she stretched out her hand for the scarf which she proceeded to wrap about her shoulders. “If you’ve made up your mind there’s nothing more to be said, and I might have spared myself my errand. Don’t get up, Hannah. I can let myself out.”

Poor Jagger! A chill like that of night when the wet mists steal down the sides of Cawden sent a shiver over his spirits and choked his speech. In his eagerness to avenge himself upon his master he had forgotten that Nancy would be affected by the scheme, and Nancy was the all-important consideration. When he had spoken of his father’s age as the barrier to his freedom of action he had been half-conscious of insincerity, and he knew now, if he had not definitely acknowledged it to himself before, that it was she of the black locks and black eyes and not his sire who made the thought of leaving Mawm unpalatable. His mind was not quick enough to grapple with the situation, however, and whilst he was groping round for a way of escape Hannah’s voice cut the silence.

“It was father’s idea,” she said with a coldness equal to Nancy’s own, as she rose and moved towards the door. “Maybe he hadn’t just thought how it ’ud concern you; but by all accounts Mr. Briggs turns trade enough away to keep one pair o’ hands busy. You know father well enough, Nancy, to be sure he’ll do naught to hurt you, and I’m sorry if you take it amiss. If you were Jagger’s sister you’d be tired o’ seeing him eat dirt to keep in with a master ’at holds him down. I’d have chucked it long since, if it had been me.”

“Jagger’s a right to please himself, and I’m not disputing it,” said Nancy haughtily; “but if there’s to be two firms in the village you can’t expect me to be any friend to the second.”

Jagger had found his tongue by now and he followed the girl to the door and stood with her in the opening, uttering vehement protests to which Hannah closed her ears and Nancy listened reluctantly.

“You’d best think it over,” she said in tones that had lost nothing of their iciness as she turned away. “I’ll say naught about it at home, Jagger, in the hope that you’ll change your mind.”

She walked away rapidly; but hearing footsteps quicken behind her thought Jagger was following and wheeled round with an impatient dismissal on her lips.

It was some other, however, who hurried up—a stranger obviously, for a bowler hat was silhouetted against the sky and gear of that kind was never seen on the heads of the male fraternity of Mawm except on Sundays. Although a glance was all she gave him when she perceived her mistake there was something that seemed familiar in the man’s outline, and for a second or two she puzzled over it and wondered why she was followed; but though she went on her way more quickly she was not afraid.

“You walk fast, Miss Clegg!” The voice was low and carried a laugh in its tones and Nancy started and stood still.

“Who are you?” she inquired; but the revelation came to her as the moonlight fell upon his face, and her heart beat more quickly than exertion could account for; yet her subdued exclamation—“If it isn’t Mr. Inman!” was coloured by annoyance rather than pleasure.

“James Inman, at your service,” he replied, raising his hat with a courtesy that was deliberately theatrical. “I believe I told you when you doubted my word, that I should find ways and means to see you again; and here I am.”

Nancy tossed her head—a trick she had not needed to learn in the town, and answered him sharply.

“If you’ve followed me here because you think that I’m likely to take any interest in you, Mr. Inman, the sooner you’re undeceived the better for us both. And if it’s you that’s got a job at our shop let me tell you straight that it goes against you, and I’ve only to let Mr. Briggs know what you’re after for you to be sent about your business.”

Inman laughed. “And what worse should I be then than I am now? I should have had ten minutes with my heart’s delight, and that’s worth a month of dreams. And why shouldn’t your guardian know that I’m after a wife? Other men before me have hunted that quarry and not been burned at the stake for it. If I hunt fair what harm is there in it? But perhaps you think he’ll be vexed to find that Jagger Drake has a competitor.”

Nancy’s cheeks grew red with anger, but even as hot words rose to her tongue her judgment cooled them, and her thoughts ran on ahead and reviewed the situation. Baldwin and Jagger were at enmity; and though a word in the older man’s ear might start the fires of his wrath against the newcomer, they were not likely to burn the more fiercely at the knowledge that this young man was Jagger’s rival for her affections. The effect might be quite opposite, for the large contempt in which Baldwin held the Drakes, both father and son, might lead him to favour another suitor.

Nancy had remained standing and she held Inman by a haughty stare whilst these thoughts crossed her mind at telegraphic speed.

“You don’t leave your meaning to be guessed at, anyway,” she said in her most freezing tones; “but a woman isn’t like a hare; she can choose who she lets hunt her, and I don’t choose to be hunted by you. Those are plain words, Mr. Inman, and I hope you appreciate them.”

“I do,” he replied. “I’m a moorman and you’re a moorwoman. Moor-folk don’t go by round-about ways when there’s a straight cut. I tell you as I told you before that I love you and would make you my wife. ‘Not like a hare!’ Of course you aren’t. I want no woman for a wife who’s like a hare. An oily towns-man would have turned the tables on you and crooned out that he was hunting a ‘dear’; but I don’t deal in soft nothings. Maybe Jagger Drake does; I heard him this afternoon when he whined like a whipped dog, and I took his measure. If you marry him you’ll have a baby in your arms to start with——”

“I’ve listened to you long enough,” Nancy broke in at this point with increased hauteur. “Who’s been coupling my name with Jagger Drake’s I don’t know, but it’s no concern of either theirs or yours; and as there’s sure to be some eyes spying on us, and I’ve no wish to have my character taken away, as it’s likely enough it will be if I stop talking with a strange man, the first night he’s in the village, I’ll just wish you good-bye; and if you take my advice you’ll set off back where you came from to-morrow morning.”

“One minute then,” he replied, as she turned away with a frown on her face. “We mayn’t have another opportunity as good as this for understanding one another. You call me a stranger, and you propose to treat me as a stranger. So be it, I learn my lessons quickly, and I shan’t worry you, you may rely on that. But I’ve buried my mother since you saw me last, and I’ve a mind to get back to the moors. If I stop with Mr. Briggs I can help to ginger up the business, though it’s plain enough to see that he thinks himself God Almighty and wants no help. But if he won’t have me, or if you think fit to put a spoke in the wheel, I’ll just start for myself and maybe get our young friend Jagger to help me. Soft as he is there are sure to be some old women who’ll fancy him for their work, and I’ll bet between us we can make things hum. Whichever way I go, your road’ll cross mine, Miss Nancy, and we’ll go on arm in arm before the end; but it shall be of your own free will, I promise you that!”

She was staring him in the face with curling lip; but the effort to keep back hot, indignant words and to hide their nearness from him almost choked her; and all the time she was conscious of an icy feeling at her heart. He was meeting her glance with a smile of quiet assurance; and when she said—“We are just strangers, Mr. Inman. I shall not interfere with Mr. Briggs’ business arrangements, so you may be easy on that point. All I want is to be left alone!” he merely nodded, and raising his hat, wished her good-night.