'Dick,' she cried suddenly, 'perhaps I might - perhaps in
time - perhaps - '
'There is no perhaps about the matter,' interrupted Dick. 'I
must go and bring the phaeton.' And with that he
strode from
the station, all in a glow of
passion and
virtue. Esther,
whose eyes had come alive and her cheeks flushed during these
last words, relapsed in a second into a state of
petrifaction. She remained without
motion during his
absence, and when he returned suffered herself to be put back
into the phaeton, and
driven off on the return journey like
an idiot or a tired child. Compared with what she was now,
her condition of the morning seemed
positively natural. She
sat white and cold and silent, and there was no speculation
in her eyes. Poor Dick flailed and flailed at the pony, and
once tried to
whistle, but his courage was going down; huge
clouds of
despair gathered together in his soul, and from
time to time their darkness was divided by a
piercing flash
of
longing and regret. He had lost his love - he had lost
his love for good.
The pony was tired, and the hills very long and steep, and
the air sultrier than ever, for now the
breeze began to fail
entirely. It seemed as if this
miserable drive would never
be done, as if poor Dick would never be able to go away and
be
comfortablywretched by himself; for all his desire was to
escape from her presence and the
reproach of her averted
looks. He had lost his love, he thought - he had lost his
love for good.
They were already not far from the
cottage, when his heart
again faltered and he appealed to her once more,
speaking low
and
eagerly in broken phrases.
'I cannot live without your love,' he concluded.
'I do not understand what you mean,' she replied, and I
believe with perfect truth.
'Then,' said he, wounded to the quick, 'your aunt might come
and fetch you herself. Of course you can command me as you
please. But I think it would be better so.'
'Oh yes,' she said
wearily, 'better so.'
This was the only exchange of words between them till about
four o'clock; the phaeton, mounting the lane, 'opened out'
the
cottage between the leafy banks. Thin smoke went
straight up from the chimney; the flowers in the garden, the
hawthorn in the lane, hung down their heads in the heat; the
stillness was broken only by the sound of hoofs. For right
before the gate a
livery servant rode slowly up and down,
leading a
saddle horse. And in this last Dick shuddered to
identify his father's
chestnut.
Alas! poor Richard, what should this portend?
The servant, as in duty bound,
dismounted and took the
phaeton into his keeping; yet Dick thought he touched his hat
to him with something of a grin. Esther,
passive as ever,
was helped out and crossed the garden with a slow and
mechanical gait; and Dick, following close behind her, heard
from within the
cottage his father's voice upraised in an
anathema, and the shriller tones of the Admiral responding in
the key of war.
CHAPTER VIII - BATTLE ROYAL
SQUIRE NASEBY, on sitting down to lunch, had inquired for
Dick, whom he had not seen since the day before at dinner;
and the servant answering
awkwardly that Master Richard had
come back but had gone out again with the pony phaeton, his
suspicions became aroused, and he cross-questioned the man
until the whole was out. It appeared from this report that
Dick had been going about for nearly a month with a girl in
the Vale - a Miss Van Tromp; that she lived near Lord
Trevanion's upper wood; that recently Miss Van Tromp's papa
had returned home from foreign parts after a prolonged
absence; that this papa was an old gentleman, very chatty and
free with his money in the public-house -
whereupon Mr.
Naseby's face became encrimsoned; that the papa, furthermore,
was said to be an
admiral -
whereupon Mr. Naseby spat out a
whistle brief and
fierce as an oath; that Master Dick seemed
very friendly with the papa - 'God help him!' said Mr.
Naseby; that last night Master Dick had not come in, and to-
day he had
driven away in the phaeton with the young lady -
'Young woman,' corrected Mr. Naseby.
'Yes, sir,' said the man, who had been
unwilling enough to
gossip from the first, and was now cowed by the effect of his
communications on the master. 'Young woman, sir!'
'Had they luggage?' demanded the Squire.
'Yes, sir.'
Mr. Naseby was silent for a moment, struggling to keep down
his e
motion, and he mastered it so far as to mount into the
sarcastic vein, when he was in the nearest danger of melting
into the sorrowful.
'And was this - this Van Dunk with them?' he asked, dwelling
scornfully upon the name.
The servant believed not, and being eager to shift the
responsibility of speech to other shoulders, suggested that
perhaps the master had better inquire further from George the
stableman in person.
'Tell him to
saddle the
chestnut and come with me. He can
take the gray gelding; for we may ride fast. And then you
can take away this trash,' added Mr. Naseby, pointing to the
luncheon; and he arose,
lordly in his anger, and marched
forth upon the
terrace to await his horse.
There Dick's old nurse shrunk up to him, for the news went
like wildfire over Naseby House, and
timidly expressed a hope
that there was nothing much amiss with the young master.
'I'll pull him through,' the Squire said
grimly, as though he
meant to pull him through a threshing-mill; 'I'll save him
from this gang; God help him with the next! He has a taste
for low company, and no natural affections to steady him.
His father was no society for him; he must go fuddling with a
Dutchman, Nance, and now he's caught. Let us pray he'll take
the lesson,' he added more
gravely, 'but youth is here to
make troubles, and age to pull them out again.'
Nance whimpered and recalled several episodes of Dick's
childhood, which moved Mr. Naseby to blow his nose and shake
her hard by the hand; and then, the horse arriving
opportunely, to get himself without delay into the
saddle and
canter off.
He rode straight, hot spur, to Thymebury, where, as was to be
expected, he could glean no
tidings of the runaways. They
had not been seen at the George; they had not been seen at
the station. The shadow darkened on Mr. Naseby's face; the
junction did not occur to him; his last hope was for Van
Tromp's
cottage;
thither he bade George guide him, and
thither he followed, nursing grief,
anxiety, and indignation
in his heart.
'Here it is, sir,' said George stopping.
'What! on my own land!' he cried. 'How's this? I let this
place to somebody - M'Whirter or M'Glashan.'
'Miss M'Glashan was the young lady's aunt, sir, I believe,'
returned George.
'Ay - dummies,' said the Squire. 'I shall
whistle for my
rent too. Here, take my horse.'
The Admiral, this hot afternoon, was sitting by the window
with a long glass. He already knew the Squire by sight, and
now,
seeing him
dismount before the
cottage and come striding
through the garden, concluded without doubt he was there to
ask for Esther's hand.
'This is why the girl is not yet home,' he thought: 'a very
suitable
delicacy on young Naseby's part.'
And he
composed himself with some pomp, answered the loud
rattle of the riding-whip upon the door with a dulcet
invitation to enter, and coming forward with a bow and a
smile, 'Mr. Naseby, I believe,' said he.
The Squire came armed for battle; took in his man from top to
toe in one rapid and
scornful glance, and
decided on a course
at once. He must let the fellow see that he understood him.
'You are Mr. Van Tromp?' he returned
roughly, and without
taking any notice of the proffered hand.
'The same, sir,' replied the Admiral. 'Pray be seated.'
'No sir,' said the Squire, point-blank, 'I will not be
seated. I am told that you are an
admiral,' he added.
'No sir, I am not an
admiral,' returned Van Tromp, who now
began to grow nettled and enter into the spirit of the
interview.
'Then why do you call yourself one, sir?'
'I have to ask your
pardon, I do not,' says Van Tromp, as
grand as the Pope.
But nothing was of avail against the Squire.
'You sail under false colours from
beginning to end,' he
said. 'Your very house was taken under a sham name.'
'It is not my house. I am my daughter's guest,' replied the
Admiral. 'If it WERE my house - '
'Well?' said the Squire, 'what then? hey?'
The Admiral looked at him nobly, but was silent.
'Look here,' said Mr. Naseby, 'this intimidation is a waste
of time; it is thrown away on me, sir; it will not succeed
with me. I will not permit you even to gain time by your
fencing. Now, sir, I
presume you understand what brings me
here.'
'I am entirely at a loss to
account for your intrusion,' bows
and waves Van Tromp.
'I will try to tell you then. I come here as a father' -
down came the riding-whip upon the table - 'I have right and
justice upon my side. I understand your calculations, but
you calculated without me. I am a man of the world, and I
see through you and your manoeuvres. I am
dealing now with a
conspiracy - I stigmatise it as such, and I will
expose it
and crush it. And now I order you to tell me how far things
have gone, and whither you have smuggled my
unhappy son.'
'My God, sir!' Van Tromp broke out, 'I have had about enough
of this. Your son? God knows where he is for me! What the
devil have I to do with your son? My daughter is out, for
the matter of that; I might ask you where she was, and what
would you say to that? But this is all
midsummer madness.
Name your business
distinctly, and be off.'
'How often am I to tell you?' cried the Squire. 'Where did
your daughter take my son to-day in that cursed pony
carriage?'
'In a pony carriage?'
repeated Van Tromp.
'Yes, sir - with luggage.'
'Luggage?' - Van Tromp had turned a little pale.
'Luggage, I said - luggage!' shouted Naseby. 'You may spare
me this dissimulation. Where's my son. You are
speaking to
a father, sir, a father.'
'But, sir, if this be true,' out came Van Tromp in a new key,
'it is I who have an
explanation to demand?'
'Precisely. There is the conspiracy,' retorted Naseby.
'Oh!' he added, 'I am a man of the world. I can see through
and through you.'
Van Tromp began to understand.
'You speak a great deal about being a father, Mr. Naseby,'
said he; 'I believe you forget that the appellation is common
to both of us. I am at a loss to figure to myself, however
dimly, how any man - I have not said any gentleman - could so
brazenly
insult another as you have been
insulting me since
you entered this house. For the first time I
appreciate your
base insinuations, and I
despise them and you. You were, I