CHAPTER XIII.
MR. TAPPITT IN HIS COUNTING-HOUSE.
Luke Rowan, when he left the cottage, walked quickly back across thegreen towards Baslehurst. He had sauntered out slowly on his roadfrom the brewery to Bragg's End, being in doubt as to what he woulddo when he reached his destination; but there was no longer room fordoubt now; he had said that to Rachel's mother which made any furtherdoubt impossible, and he was resolved that he would ask Rachel to behis wife. He had spoken to Mrs. Ray of his intention in that respectas though he thought that such an offer on his part might probably berejected, and in so speaking had at the time spoken the truth; but hewas eager, sanguine, and self-confident by nature, and though he wasby no means disposed to regard himself as a conquering hero by whomany young lady would only be too happy to find herself beloved, hedid not at the present moment look forward to his future fate withdespair. He walked quickly home along the dusty road, picturing tohimself a happy prosperous future in Baslehurst, with Rachel as hiswife, and the Tappitts living in some neighbouring villa on an incomepaid to old Tappitt by him out of the proceeds of the brewery. Thatwas his present solution of the brewery difficulty. Tappitt wasgrowing old, and it might be quite as well not only for himself, butfor the cause of humanity in Devonshire, that he should pass theremainder of his life in that dignity which comfortable retirementfrom business affords. He did not desire Tappitt for a partner anymore than Tappitt desired him. Nevertheless he was determined to brewbeer, and was anxious to do so if possible on the spot where hisgreat-uncle Bungall had commenced operations in that line.
It may be well to explain here that Rowan was not without goodstanding-ground in his dispute with Tappitt. Old Bungall's will hadsomewhat confused matters, as it is in the nature of wills to do;but it had been Bungall's desire that his full share in the breweryshould go to his nephew after his widow's death, should he on dyingleave a widow. Now it had happened that he had left a widow, andthat the widow had contrived to live longer than the nephew. She haddrawn an income of five hundred a year from the concern, by agreementbetween her and her lawyer and Tappitt and his lawyer; and Tappitt,when the elder Rowan, Bungall's nephew, died, had taught himselfto believe that all the affairs of the brewery must now remain forever in his own hands, unless he himself might choose to make otherprovision. He knew that some property in the concern would pass awayfrom him when the old lady died, but he had not acknowledged tohimself that young Rowan would inherit from his father all the rightswhich old Rowan would have possessed had he lived. Luke's father hadgone into other walks of life, and had lived prosperously, leavingbehind him money for his widow, and money also for his children; andTappitt, when he found that there was a young man with a claim toa partnership in his business, had been not only much annoyed, butsurprised also. He had been, as we have seen, persuaded to hold outthe right hand of friendship, and the left hand of the partnership tothe young man. He had thought that he might manage a young man fromLondon who knew nothing of beer; and his wife had thought that theyoung man might probably like to take a wife as well as an incomeout of the concern; but, as we have seen, they had both been wrongin their hopes. Luke chose to manage the brewery instead of beingmanaged; and had foolishly fallen in love with Rachel Ray instead oftaking Augusta Tappitt to himself as he should have done.
There was much certainly of harshness and cruelty in that idea ofan opposition brewery in Baslehurst to be established in enmity toBungall and Tappitt, and to be so established with Bungall's money,and by Bungall's heir. But Luke, as he walked back to Baslehurst,thinking now of his beer and now of his love, declared to himselfthat he wanted only his own. Let Tappitt deal justly with him in thatmatter of the partnership, and he would deal even generously withTappitt. The concern gave an income of some fifteen hundred pounds,out of which Mrs. Bungall, as taking no share of the responsibilityor work, had been allowed to have a third. He was informed by hislawyer that he was entitled to claim one-half of the whole concern.If Tappitt would give in his adhesion to that villa arrangement, heshould still have his thousand a year for life, and Mrs. Tappittafterwards should have due provision, and the girls should have allthat could fairly be claimed for them. Or, if the villa scheme couldnot be carried out quite at present, he, Rowan, would do two sharesof the work, and allow Tappitt to take two shares of the pay; butthen, in that case, he must be allowed scope for his improvements.Good beer should be brewed for the people of Baslehurst, and theeyes of Devonshire should be opened. Pondering over all this, andresolving that he would speak out his mind openly to Rachel on themorrow, Luke Rowan reached his inn.
"There's a lady, sir, up-stairs, as wishes to speak to you," said thewaiter.
"A lady?"
"Quite elderly, sir," said the waiter, intending to put an end to anyexcitement on Rowan's part.
"It's the gentleman's own mother," said the chambermaid, in a toneof reproof, "and she's in number two sitting-room, private." So Lukewent to number two sitting-room, private, and there he found hismother waiting for him.
"This is very sad," she said, when their first greetings were over.
"About old Tappitt? yes, it is; but what could I do, mother? He's astupid old man, and pig-headed. He would quarrel with me, so thatI was obliged to leave the house. If you and Mary like to come intolodgings while you stay here, I can get rooms for you."
But Mrs. Rowan explained that she herself did not wish to come toany absolute or immediate rupture with Mrs. Tappitt. Of course theirvisit would be shortened, but Mrs. Tappitt was disposed to be verycivil, as were the girls. Then Mrs. Rowan suggested whether theremight not be a reconciliation between Luke and the brewery family.
"But, mother, I have not quarrelled with the family."
"It comes to the same thing, Luke; does it not? Don't you think youcould say something civil to Mr. Tappitt, so as to--to bring himround again? He's older than you are, you know, Luke."
Rowan perceived at once that his mother was ranging herself on theTappitt side in the contest, and was therefore ready to fight withso much the more vigour. He was accustomed to yield to his mother inall little things, Mrs. Rowan being a woman who liked such yieldings;but for some time past he had held his own against her in all greatermatters. Now and again, for an hour or so, she would show that shewas vexed; but her admiration for him was so genuine, and her love sostrong, that this vexation never endured, and Luke had been taughtto think that his judgment was to be held supreme in all their jointconcerns. "Yes, mother, he is older than I am; but I do not know thatI can say anything particularly civil to him,--that is, more civilthan what I have said. The civility which he wants is the surrenderof my rights. I can't be so civil as that."
"No, Luke, I should be the last to ask you to surrender any of yourrights; you must be sure of that. But--oh, Luke, if what I hear istrue I shall be so unhappy!"
"And what have you heard, mother?"
"I am afraid all this is not about the brewery altogether."
"But it is about the brewery altogether;--about that and aboutnothing else to any smallest extent. I don't at all know what youmean."
"Luke, is there no young lady in the case?"
"Young lady! in what case;--in the case of my quarrel with oldTappitt;--whether he and I have had a difference about a young lady?"
"No, Luke; you know I don't mean that."
"But what do you mean, mother?"
"I'm afraid that you know too well. Is there not a young lady whomyou've met at Mrs. Tappitt's, and whom you--you pretend to admire?"
"And suppose there is,--for the sake of the argument,--what has thatto do with my difference with Mr. Tappitt?" As Rowan asked thisquestion some slight conception of the truth flashed across his mind;some faint idea came home to him of the connecting link between hisadmiration for Rachel Ray and Mr. Tappitt's animosity.
"But is it so, Luke?" asked the anxious mother. "I care much moreabout that than I do about all the brewery put together. Nothingwould make me so wretched as to see you make a marriage that wasbeneath y
ou."
"I don't think I shall ever make you wretched in that way."
"And you tell me that there is nothing in this that I haveheard;--nothing at all."
"No, by heavens!--I tell you no such thing. I do not know what youmay have heard. That you have heard falsehood and calumny I guess byyour speaking of a marriage that would be beneath me. But, as youthink it right to ask me, I will not deceive you by any subterfuge.It is my purpose to ask a girl here in Baslehurst to be my wife."
"Then you have not asked her yet."
"You are cross-examining me very closely, mother. If I have not askedher I am bound to do so; not that any binding is necessary,--forwithout being bound I certainly should do so."
"And it is Miss Ray?"
"Yes, it is Miss Ray."
"Oh, Luke, then indeed I shall be very wretched."
"Why so, mother? Have you heard anything against her?"
"Against her! well; I will not say that, for I do not wish to sayanything against any young woman. But do you know who she is, Luke;and who her mother is? They are quite poor people."
"And is that against them?"
"Not against their moral character certainly, but it is against themin considering the expediency of a connection with them. You wouldhardly wish to marry out of your own station. I am told that themother lives in a little cottage, quite in a humble sphere, and thatthe sister--"
"I intend to marry neither the mother nor the sister; but Rachel RayI do intend to marry,--if she will have me. If I had been left tomyself I should not have told you of this till I had found myself tobe successful; as you have asked me I have not liked to deceive you.But, mother, do not speak against her if you can say nothing worse ofher than that she is poor."
"You misunderstand me, Luke."
"I hope so. I do not like to think that that objection should be madeby you."
"Of course it is an objection, but it is not the one which I meantto make. There may be many a young lady whom it would be quitefitting that you should wish to marry even though she had not got ashilling. It would be much pleasanter of course that the lady shouldhave something, though I should never think of making any seriousobjection about that. But what I should chiefly look to would be theyoung lady herself, and her position in life."
"The young lady herself would certainly be the main thing," saidLuke.
"That's what I say;--the young lady herself and her position in life.Have you made any inquiries?"
"Yes, I have;--and am almost ashamed of myself for doing so."
"I have no doubt Mrs. Ray is very respectable, but the sort of peoplewho are her friends are not your friends. Their most particularfriends are the farmer's family that lives near them."
"How was it then that Mrs. Cornbury took her to the party?"
"Ah, yes; I can explain that. And Mrs. Tappitt has told me how sorryshe is that people should have been deceived by what has occurred."Luke Rowan's brow grew black as Mrs. Tappitt's name was mentioned,but he said nothing and his mother continued her speech. "Her girlshave been very kind to Miss Ray, inviting her to walk with them andall that sort of thing, because of her being so much alone withoutany companions of her own."
"Oh, that has been it, has it? I thought she had the farmer's familyout near where she lived."
"If you choose to listen to me, Luke, I shall be obliged to you, butif you take me up at every word in that way, of course I must leaveyou." Then she paused, but as Luke said nothing she went on withher discourse. "It was in that way that she came to know the MissTappitts, and then one of them, the youngest I think, asked her tocome to the party. It was very indiscreet; but Mrs. Tappitt did notlike to go back from her daughter's word, and so the girl was allowedto come."
"And to make the blunder pass off easily, Mrs. Cornbury was inducedto take her?"
"Mrs. Cornbury happened to be staying with her father, in whoseparish they had lived for many years, and it certainly was very kindof her. But it has been an unfortunate mistake altogether. The poorgirl has for a moment been lifted out of her proper sphere, and,--asyou must have seen yourself,--hardly knew how to behave herself. Itmade Mrs. Tappitt very unhappy."
This was more than Luke Rowan was able to bear. His anger was notagainst his own mother, but against the mistress of the brewery. Itwas manifest that she had been maligning Rachel, and instigating hismother to take up the cudgels against her. And he was vexed alsothat his mother had not perceived that Rachel held, or was entitledto hold, among women a much higher position than could be fairlyaccorded to Mrs. Tappitt. "I do not care one straw for Mrs. Tappitt'sunhappiness," he said; "and as to Miss Ray's conduct at her house, Ido not think that there was anything in it that did not become her.I do not know what you mean, the least in the world; and I think youwould have no such idea yourself, if Mrs. Tappitt had not put it intoyour head."
"You should not speak in that way to your mother, Luke."
"I must speak strongly when I am defending my wife,--as I hope shewill be. I never heard of anything in my life so little as thiswoman's conduct! It is mean, paltry jealousy, and nothing else. You,as my mother, may think it better that I should not marry."
"But, my dear, I want you to marry."
"Then I will do as you want. Or you may think that I should find someone with money, or with grand friends, or with a better connection.It is natural that you should think like this. But why should shewant to belittle a young girl like Rachel Ray,--a girl that her owndaughters call their friend? I'll tell you why, mother. BecauseRachel Ray was admired and they were not."
"Is there anybody in Baslehurst that will say that she is yourequal?"
"I am not disposed to ask any one in Baslehurst just at present; andI would not advise any one in Baslehurst to volunteer an opinion tome on the subject. I intend that she shall be my equal,--my equal inevery respect, if I can make her so. I shall certainly ask her tobe my wife; and, mother, as my mind is positively made up on thatpoint,--as nothing on earth will alter me,--I hope you will teachyourself to think kindly of her. I should be very unhappy if my housecould not be your home when you may choose to make it so."
But Mrs. Rowan, much as she was accustomed to yield to her son, couldnot bring herself to yield in this matter,--or, at least, not toyield with grace. She felt that the truth and wisdom all lay on herside in the argument, though she knew that she had lacked words inwhich to carry it on. She declared to herself that she was not at allinclined to despise anybody for living in a small cottage, or forbeing poor. She would have been delighted to be very civil to Mrs.Ray herself, and could have patronized Rachel quite as kindly, thoughperhaps not so graciously, as Mrs. Cornbury had done. But it was adifferent thing when her son came to think of making this young womanhis wife! Old Mrs. Cornbury would have been very sorry to see eitherof her sons make such an alliance. When anything so serious asmarriage was to be considered, it was only proper to remember thatMrs. Ray lived in a cottage, and that farmer Sturt was her friend andneighbour. But to all this prudence and wisdom Luke would not listenat all, and at last Mrs. Rowan left him in dudgeon. Foolish and hastyas he was, he could, as she felt, talk better than she could; andtherefore she retreated, feeling that she had been worsted. "I havedone my duty," said she, going away. "I have warned you. Of courseyou are your own master and can do as you please." Then she left him,refusing his escort, and in the last fading light of the long summerevening, made her way back to the brewery.
Luke's first impulse was to start off instantly to the cottage, andsettle the matter out of hand; but before he had taken up his hatfor this purpose he remembered that he could not very well call atBragg's End on such a mission at eleven o'clock at night; so he threwhimself back on the hotel sofa, and gave vent to his feelings againstthe Tappitt family. He would make them understand that they were notgoing to master him. He had come down there disposed to do them allmanner of kindness,--to the extent even of greatly improving theirfortunes by improving the brewing business,--and they had takenupon themselves to treat him as thoug
h he were a dependent. He didnot tell himself that a plot had been made to catch him for one ofthe girls; but he accused them of jealousy, meanness, selfishness,and all those sins and abominations by which such a plot would beengendered. When, about an hour afterwards, he took himself off tobed, he was full of wrath, and determined to display his wrath earlyon the morrow. As he prayed for forgiveness on condition that heforgave others, his conscience troubled him; but he gulped it down,and went on with his angry feelings till sleep came upon him.
But in the morning some of this bitterness had worn away. His lastresolve overnight had been to go to the brewery before breakfast, atwhich period of the day Mr. Tappitt was always to be found for halfan hour in his counting-house, and curtly tell the brewer that allfurther negotiations between them must be made by their respectivelawyers; but as he was dressing, he reflected that Mr. Tappitt'sposition was certainly one of difficulty, that amicable arrangementswould still be best if amicable arrangements were possible, and thatsomething was due to the man who had for so many years been hisuncle's partner. Mr. Tappitt, moreover, was not responsible forany of those evil things which had been said about Rachel by Mrs.Tappitt. Therefore, priding himself somewhat on his charity, heentered Mr. Tappitt's office without the display of any anger on hisface.
The brewer was standing with his back to the empty fireplace, withhis hands behind the tails of his coat, and his eyes fixed upon aletter which he had just read, and which lay open upon his desk.Rowan advanced with his hand out, and Tappitt, hesitating a little ashe obeyed the summons, put out his own and just touched that of hisvisitor; then hastily he resumed his position, with his arm behindhis coat-tail.
"I have come down," said Rowan, "because I thought it might be wellto have a little chat with you before breakfast."
The letter which lay open on the desk was from Rowan's lawyer inLondon, and contained that offer on Rowan's part of a thousand a yearand retirement, to which Luke still looked as the most comfortabletermination of all their difficulties. Luke had almost forgotten thathe had, ten days since, absolutely instructed his lawyer to make theoffer; but there was the offer made, and lying on Tappitt's table.Tappitt had been considering it for the last five minutes, and everyadditional moment had added to the enmity which he felt againstRowan. Rowan, at twenty-five, no doubt regarded Tappitt, who wasnearer sixty than fifty, as a very old man; but men of fifty-fivedo not like to be so regarded, and are not anxious to be laid uponshelves by their juniors. And, moreover, where was Tappitt to findhis security for the thousand a year,--as he had not failed to remarkto himself on his first glance over the lawyer's letter. Buy himout, indeed, and lay him on one side! He hated Rowan with all hisheart;--and his hatred was much more bitter in its nature thanthat which Rowan was capable of feeling for him. He remembered thechampagne; he remembered the young man's busy calling for thingsin his own house; he remembered the sneers against the beer, andthe want of respect with which his experience in the craft had beentreated. Buy him out! No; not as long as he had a five-pound note tospend, or a leg to stand upon. He was strong in his resolution now,and capable of strength, for Mrs. Tappitt was also on his side. Mrs.Rowan had not quite kept her secret as to what had transpired at theinn, and Mrs. Tappitt was certain that Rachel Ray had succeeded. WhenTappitt declared that morning that he would fight it out to the last,Mrs. T. applauded his courage.
"Oh! a little chat, is it?" said Tappitt. "About this letter thatI've just got, I suppose;" and he gave a contemptuous poke to theepistle with one of his hands.
"What letter?" asked Rowan.
"Come now, young man, don't let us have any humbug and trickery,whatever we may do. If there's anything I do hate, it's deceit."
All Rowan's wrath returned upon him instantly, redoubled and trebledin its energy. "What do you mean, sir?" said he. "Who is trying todeceive anybody? How dare you speak to me in such language as that?"
"Now, look here, Mr. Rowan. This letter comes from your man in CravenStreet, as of course you know very well. You have chosen to put ourbusiness in the hands of the lawyers, and in the hands of the lawyersit shall remain. I have been very wrong in attempting to have anydealings with you. I should have known what sort of a man you werebefore I let you put your foot in the concern. But I know enough ofyou now, and, if you please, you'll keep yourself on the other sideof those gates for the future. D'ye hear me? Unless you wish to beturned out by the men, don't you put your feet inside the brewerypremises any more." And Tappitt's face as he uttered these words wasa face very unpleasant to behold.
Luke was so astounded that he could not bethink himself at the momentof the most becoming words in which to answer his enemy. His firstidea had prompted him to repudiate all present knowledge of thelawyer's letter, seeing that the lawyer's letter had been the groundof that charge against him of deceit. But having been thus kickedout,--kicked out as far as words could kick him, and threatened withpersonal violence should those words not be obeyed, he found himselfunable to go back to the lawyer's letter. "I should like to see anyone of your men dare to touch me," said he.
"You shall see it very soon if you don't take yourself off," saidTappitt. Luckily the men were gone to breakfast, and opportunity forviolence was wanting.
Luke looked round, and then remembered that he and Tappitt wereprobably alone in the place. "Mr. Tappitt," said he, "you're a veryfoolish man."
"I dare say," said Tappitt; "very foolish not to give up my ownbread, and my wife's and children's bread, to an adventurer likeyou."
"I have endeavoured to treat you with kindness and also with honesty,and because you differ from me, as of course you have a right to do,you think it best to insult me with all the Billingsgate you canmuster."
"If you don't go out of my counting-house, young man, I'll see if Ican't put you out myself;" and Tappitt, in spite of his fifty-fiveyears, absolutely put his hand down upon the poker.
There is no personal encounter in which a young man is so sure tocome by the worst as in that with a much older man. This is so surelythe case that it ought to be considered cowardly in an old man toattack a young one. If an old man hit a young man over the head witha walking-stick, what can the young man do, except run away to avoida second blow? Then the old man, if he be a wicked old man, as somany are, tells all his friends that he has licked the young man.Tappitt would certainly have acted in this way if the weapon in hishand had been a stick instead of a poker. But Tappitt, when he sawhis own poker in his own hand, was afraid of it. If a woman attack aman with a knife, the man will be held to have fought fairly, thoughhe shall have knocked her down in the encounter. And so also with anold man, if he take a poker instead of a stick, the world will refuseto him the advantage of his gray hairs. Some such an idea as thiscame upon Tappitt--by instinct, and thus, though he still held thepoker, he refrained his hand.
"The man must be mad this morning," said Rowan, standing firmlybefore him, with his two hands fixed upon his hips.
"Am I to send for the police?" said Tappitt.
"For a mad-doctor, I should think," said Rowan. Then Tappitt turnedround and rang a bell very violently. But as the bell was intendedto summon some brewery servant who was now away at his breakfast, itproduced no result.
"But I have no intention of staying here against your wish, Mr.Tappitt, whether you're mad or only foolish. This matter must ofcourse be settled by the lawyers now, and I shall not again come onto these premises unless I acquire a legal right to do so as theowner of them." And then, having so spoken, Luke Rowan walked off.
Growling inwardly Tappitt deposited the poker within the uprightfender, and thrusting his hands into his trousers pockets stoodscowling at the door through which his enemy had gone. He knew thathe had been wrong; he knew that he had been very foolish. He was aman who had made his way upwards through the world with fair success,and had walked his way not without prudence. He had not been a manof violence, or prone to an illicit use of pokers. He had never beenin difficulty for an assault; and had on his conscience not eventhe blood
of a bloody nose, or the crime of a blackened eye. He washard-working and peaceable; had been churchwarden three times, andmayor of Baslehurst once. He was poor-law guardian and way-warden,and filled customarily the various offices of a steady good citizen.What had he to do with pokers, unless it were to extract heatfrom his coals? He was ashamed of himself as he stood scowling atthe door. One fault he perhaps had; and of that fault he had beenruthlessly told by lips that should have been sealed for ever onsuch a subject. He brewed bad beer; and by whom had this been thrownin his teeth? By Bungall's nephew,--by Bungall's heir,--by him whoclaimed to stand in Bungall's shoes within that establishment! Whohad taught him to brew beer--bad or good? Had it not been Bungall?And now, because in his old age he would not change these things, andruin himself in a vain attempt to make some beverage that should lookbright to the eye, he was to be turned out of his place by this chipfrom the Bungall block, this stave out of one of Bungall's vats!"_Ruat coelum, fiat justitia_," he said, as he walked forth to hisown breakfast. He spoke to himself in other language, indeed, thoughthe Roman's sentiment was his own. "I'll stand on my rights, though Ihave to go into the poor-house."