Читать книгу Men of Mawm - William Riley - Страница 14

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“BREATHES there a man with soul so dead—?” You would have said that even Baldwin’s dank soul must have fired as he left the Tarn road and struck across the moor to Walker’s farm. Inman, who walked uncomfortably beside him, accommodating his long strides to the other’s nervous steps, felt the thrill of the morning in his veins if not in his soul and would have liked to quicken the pace and enliven the solitude with a whistled melody. As it was, the keen November wind was left to do the whistling, with the long bent grass for its pipe, and it did it so tunefully that Inman remarked upon it.

“The bag-pipes are busy this morning,” he said.

The pepper-coloured tufts on Mr. Briggs’ eyebrows almost touched, as he turned uncomprehending eyes on his companion’s face, and the look was easy of interpretation. Inman knew that his master thought him a fool and was therefore prepared for the reply:

“I suppose you know what you’re talking about; I don’t.”

The tone was so cold that Inman thought it best to be silent. He therefore shifted his bass to the other shoulder and made no further attempt at conversation. Nine out of ten moormen are influenced more or less consciously by the moor’s moods, and frequently reflect them—Baldwin was the tenth man, impervious to such spiritual currents by reason of his brass-bound soul as was horny-hided Siegfried to the thrust of his enemies. They covered the remaining distance like mutes, Baldwin with his eyes on the ground, and Inman sweeping the waste with a careless glance until they reached the farm where new buildings awaited their labour.

Inman dropped his tools and looked critically at the scaffolding.

“Did Drake fix them sticks?” he asked. “They aren’t safe.”

Baldwin’s anger blazed out immediately. The structure had been erected since Jagger left, and his own judgment told him that it was faulty. The poles were thinnings of sycamore which had been lying about on the farm and had seemed good enough for the purpose, though in reality they were much too brittle. Inman’s quick eyes had detected evidences of this; but Baldwin was not to be instructed by a stranger. It was for him to decide whether the erection was safe or not, and he said so in language overcharged with emphasis, bidding Inman doff his coat and get to work without more ado.

For a moment Inman hesitated, then without a word took off his coat, rolled up his short sleeves and mounted the ladder. Before his master could climb up and stand beside him he had tested the plank with his foot and formed his conclusions, but what they were not even a movement of his shoulders made known, and he picked up his tools and began to work.

For a while Baldwin did little more than watch him; and though he had schooled himself in the art of concealing his satisfaction those who knew him would have judged by the way he at length turned to his own task that he was well pleased with the skill and industry of his new hand. Inman needed no instruction and no prodding. Jagger Drake himself was not more skilful and was incomparably slower. The master had to acknowledge to himself that no man he had ever employed had framed so well on such short acquaintance as this mysterious newcomer from nowhere; and he experienced a sense of relief that he was careful not to communicate by any relaxation of tone or feature to the man whose whole attention seemed to be centred on his work.

Inman guessed what was passing in the other’s mind; and though he controlled his features as carefully as Baldwin himself, he was in reality in a state of tension regarding the stability of the structure on which they were standing; but all went well until the afternoon when on a sudden heavy movement of the master the far pole gave way.

Inman acted with the promptitude of a man who had formed his plans long before. Baldwin had been unable to repress a sharp exclamation of alarm as he felt the plank incline beneath his feet, and his fingers opened involuntarily but found nothing to clutch and he must inevitably have fallen to the ground if the collar of his coat had not been seized in a strong grip.

“I have you! Keep still!” Inman’s calm voice said; and Baldwin felt himself being swayed towards the near pole which was still standing. Inman’s strength was marvellous. He was grasping the newly-erected water-duct with his left hand and resting his feet against the sloping board. The dead weight of Baldwin’s body caused the sharp edge of the woodwork to cut deep into the flesh but he was scarcely conscious of pain as he swung his master towards the pole.

“Get your legs round it,” he said.

The noise of the fallen ladder and scaffolding had brought out the inmates of the farm and Baldwin was helped to the ground, whereupon Inman lowered himself down without assistance, and Baldwin caught sight of the bleeding hand.

“Best have that bathed and bandaged,” he said; and the women took him indoors.

Work for that day was finished, and the two men by and by walked back together, Inman’s damaged hand hidden in the pocket of his coat. They had gone some distance before Baldwin spoke, and the gruff words came reluctantly as if pushed from behind by some more generous prompter.

“It might ha’ been a nasty fall if you hadn’t grabbed my coat. I’ll say one thing for you—you’ve nerve and strength.”

Inman, who was thinking in his heart that he would as soon have wrung the miserable old fellow’s neck, replied carelessly that he was glad that he had saved him from accident and that it would be as well if he was allowed to see to the scaffolding in future.

This reminder brought a scowl on to the master’s face and a harder note into his voice.

“If Jagger’d ha’ been there—but Abe Thompson’s feet aren’t big enough for Jagger’s shoes. It was him ’at said there was tackling enough on t’ spot without sending any up. Did I read i’ yon papers o’ yours ’at you’ve had a foreman’s job?”

“I was foreman at Marshall’s for four years,” he replied. “When I left I was under-manager.”

“Then why the devil did you seek a job with me?” Baldwin burst out. “There’s no under-managers wanted i’ my concern, and not likely to be. I’m not one to pay men fancy wages for walking about wi’ their hands in their pockets. I can manage my own business, young man.”

“So I’ve observed,” Inman replied—and though there was not the slightest inflection of sarcasm, Baldwin shot a suspicious and half-angry glance at the man’s face. “I’m not seeking any other job but what I’ve got.”

“You’re seeking something, or you wouldn’t have signed on with a little man like me,” growled Baldwin. “If I’m not one o’ your smart town folk I don’t go about wi’ my eyes full o’ sawdust, and there’s something behind all this ’at I should be better pleased if I knew of.”

“Then I’ll tell you,” said Inman coolly. “It isn’t a thing I could mention when I asked you to give me a job, but there’s no reason why I should keep it secret from you now, Mr. Briggs. I met Miss Nancy when she was staying with her uncle a week or two ago—I’ve known Mr. John Clegg off and on since I was a lad—and I asked her to marry me. You’ll very likely say I was over hasty; but I’m a man who knows his own mind, and bad to shake off when I’ve set my heart on a thing. Now, you can put two and two together.”

Baldwin’s brain worked slowly, as has been said; but it was capable of spurts of activity, and it had been speeding about whilst Inman was making his confession, gathering together these strange occurrences and the thoughts they gave rise to and putting them on the scales of his judgment to determine whether or no the weight was to his advantage. From force of habit as well as policy the scowl deepened on his brow as he replied:

“Putting two and two together isn’t all t’ sum. You’ve said naught about how Nancy looks at it, and that may make a deal o’ difference.”

“Miss Nancy was taken by surprise,” Inman answered. “She wasn’t used to my blunt ways and—well, she gave me no encouragement.”

“And though she gave you ‘No’ for an answer, you followed her here on t’ off-chance ’at she’d change her mind, if she saw more of you?”

“I usually get what I set my mind on,” Inman answered, so calmly that Baldwin turned his eyes upon him in amazement at the note of assurance. “She knows I shan’t plague her; if she becomes my wife it’ll be of her own free will; and I’m willing to take my chance.”

He smiled as he completed the sentence, and the look and tone of assurance kindled Baldwin’s wrath.

“I’ve a good mind to send you about your business,” he stormed, peppering the declaration with the hottest words in his vocabulary. “You’re the coolest devil I ever came across, and I’d as lief have old Nick himself in the place. If Nancy has said ‘No’——”

Inman laid his hand on the other’s arm and spoke more sternly though even yet with studied restraint.

“Listen, Mr. Briggs! If you sack me I shall find a job somewhere about——”

“It won’t be wi’ Drake’s, that’s certain,” broke in Baldwin hotly, “Jagger’ll none be keen on finding a job for a rival; and who else is there, nearer nor Scaleber?”

“We needn’t discuss it, Mr. Briggs,” Inman replied. “I’m more likely to want to put a spoke in Jagger Drake’s wheel than to help him to put one in yours. You’ve seen enough to know that I can take Jagger’s place, and you’ve nobody else that can; and seeing that I’ve promised not to molest Miss Nancy what harm will there be in keeping me on?”

The cunningly-designed argument left Baldwin without an answer, and the milder tone in Inman’s voice served to modify him. After all, as he said to himself, Nancy was her own mistress and had for some time past shown an independence of spirit that had been anything but welcome. Now that Jagger had set up in opposition there was no reason why he should lose the services of the one man who could help to checkmate the Drakes’ move—indeed self-interest pointed in the opposite direction. He therefore said:

“When a man’s been Nancy’s guardian it’s naught but right he should think of her interests. But what you say seems right enough, and I’ll take to it ’at I could like to scotch this new scheme o’ Maniwel’s. It’s true ’at I haven’t a man i’ t’ shop, bar, happen you, ’at can take Jagger’s place; and you’re a man with a head on. I must think it over; or else I had been going to say ’at I’d make you foreman.”

“That’s as you think fit,” replied Inman. “I shouldn’t care, of course, to take my orders from anyone but you; but you must please yourself. As, for these Drakes—two heads are better than one and naught ’ud give me more pleasure than to scheme against ’em.”

Baldwin concentrated his thoughts on the subject, and Inman knew better than to attempt to pursue his advantage. At length the master spoke:

“I see naught gained by sleeping on it. It’s all one to me who Nancy marries and I’m not likely to be consulted; but it ’ud go again’ t’ grain to have her marry Jagger. That being so there’s no reason why I should put my finger in your pie, to say naught about my owing you something for this morning’s do. T’ foreman’s job’s waiting, and you can have it if you’ve a mind.”

A smile crossed Inman’s lips; but Baldwin did not see it, and he was gratified by the thanks the young man offered and even more by the brisk inquiry that followed:

“And now, Mr. Briggs, let us turn to these Drakes. Running ’em to earth is a sport just to my liking. I suppose they’ve no money?”

“Maniwel’ll have a bit wi’ John Clegg,” replied Baldwin, “unless he’s had to draw it out, which I hardly think he will ha’ done. There’ll be a toathri hundred pound there, I fancy.”

“But why with John Clegg?” inquired Inman, bending puzzled brows upon his master.

“Well, you see,”—now that Inman was fellow-conspirator, Mr. Briggs was willing to indulge him with an explanation—“Tom Clegg, who had t’ business before me, always banked with his brother John, and it was through him that Maniwel and me got a chance to put our bits o’ savings in with him. John could find use for brass in his business, and pay five per cent., which was a deal better than t’other banks ’ud do. So I’ve always banked with him, same as Tom did; and I feel sure Maniwel’ll have a bit lying there.”

Inman became thoughtful, and beyond saying “I see,” made no remark for some minutes. He was wondering how he could ascertain if Nancy’s money was also in her uncle’s keeping without arousing suspicion of his motives when Baldwin answered the unspoken question.

“It’s a funny thing ’at t’ only one ’at doesn’t fairly trust John is his own niece. Nancy doesn’t believe in having all her eggs in one basket, and them ’at’s been laid since her father died she banks i’ Keepton, where she just gets half t’ interest her uncle ’ud pay her. But women haven’t much business about ’em and it’s her own look-out and not mine.”

“That’s so,” Inman agreed absently. He was relieved to find that Nancy had so much sense, and was undecided what course his own interests should lead him to pursue in continuing the conversation.

“Can Drake get the money at short notice?” he asked.

“Nay, he’ll have to give him six months. Of course, I’ve a different arrangement, and he sends me bankers’ drafts to pay my accounts with; but even I couldn’t draw t’ lump out under six months, so it’s certain Maniwel can’t.”

Again Inman was silent for a space, thinking hard.

“I don’t know but what Miss Nancy’s right,” he said with unusual hesitation. “John Clegg isn’t a banker, though he calls himself one—he’s a moneylender.” He looked inquiringly into Baldwin’s face but saw no look of concern or suspicion there; and the voice was indifferent enough that replied:

“I caren’t what he is. He went off o’ t’ moor and made his way i’ t’ town. Tom put his trust in him, and for twenty years he’s never let us down. He calls himself a banker, and he pays five per cent. on wer brass, and that’s good enough for me. Whether Maniwel knows he’s i’ t’ Jew line or no, I can’t say; but his brass is as safe as houses.”

A comment rose to Inman’s lips but he checked it there, and remained silent so long that Baldwin looked up suspiciously.

“You seem to have something up your sleeve,” he said. He had surrounded himself so long with an atmosphere of distrust that he was as sensitive to the moods of those about him as a spider to the vibrations of its web.

“I was wondering if there was any way of keeping the Drakes’ money back,” he replied readily, but in a thoughtful tone. “Lack of capital’ll hamper ’em, you see. I’ve only seen this Maniwel’s face once, but I guess he’s not the man to plunge much. I mean he’s not likely to get far into debt.”

“He’s t’ last i’ t’ world,” admitted Baldwin, appeased at once by this evidence of his companion’s discrimination.

“I don’t see at this minute how it’s to be managed,” continued Inman, “but it’ll come to me. There’s always ways and means for those who’re prompt to handle ’em. All we’ve got to do is to bide our time, and as you say, keep the sawdust out of our eyes.”

They had reached the shop by this time and the subject was necessarily dropped; but Inman remained thoughtful during the remainder of the day, and paid no attention to the rough handling the other man received, and especially the incompetent Abe, at the hands of the master.