CHAPTER IV
THE CANOE
Felix had scarcely worked half an hour before Oliver returned and threwhimself on the ground at full length. He had wearied of fishing, thedelicate adjustment of the tackle and the care necessary to keep thehook and line from catching in the branches had quickly proved too muchfor his patience. He lay on the grass, his feet towards the stream whichran and bubbled beneath, and watched Felix chipping out the blockintended to fit into the secret opening or locker.
"Is it nearly finished, then?" he said presently. "What a time you havebeen at it!"
"Nearly three months."
"Why did you make it so big? It is too big."
"Is it really? Perhaps I want to put some things in it."
"Oh, I see; cargo. But where are you going to launch it?"
"Below the stones there."
"Well, you won't be able to go far; there's an old fir across the riverdown yonder, and a hollow willow has fallen in. Besides, the stream'stoo shallow; you'll take ground before you get half a mile."
"Shall I?"
"Of course you will. That boat will float six inches deep by herself,and I'm sure there's not six inches by the Thorns."
"Very awkward."
"Why didn't you have a hide boat made, with a willow framework andleather cover? Then you might perhaps get down the river by hauling itpast the shallows and the fallen trees. In two days' time you would bein the hands of the gipsies."
"And you would be Sir Constans' heir!"
"Now, come, I say; that's too bad. You know I didn't mean that. Besides,I think I'm as much his heir as you now" (looking at his sinewy arm);"at least, he doesn't listen as much to you. I mean, the river runs intothe gipsies' country as straight as it can go."
"Just so."
"Well, you seem very cool about it!"
"I am not going down the river."
"Then, where _are_ you going?"
"On the Lake."
"Whew!" (whistling) "Pooh! Why, the Lake's--let me see, to Heron Bayit's quite fifteen miles. You can't paddle across the land."
"But I can put the canoe on a cart."
"Aha! why didn't you tell me before?"
"Because I did not wish anyone to know. Don't say anything."
"Not I. But what on earth, or rather, on water, are you driving at?Where are you going? What's the canoe for?"
"I am going a voyage. But I will tell you all when it is ready.Meantime, I rely on you to keep silence. The rest think the boat is forthe river."
"I will not say a word. But why did you not have a hide boat?"
"They are not strong enough. They can't stand knocking about."
"If you want to go a voyage (where to, I can't imagine), why not take apassage on board a ship?"
"I want to go my own way. They will only go theirs. Nor do I like thecompany."
"Well, certainly the sailors are the roughest lot I know. Still, thatwould not have hurt you. You are rather dainty, Sir Felix!"
"My daintiness does not hurt you."
"Can't I speak?" (sharply)
"Please yourself."
A silence. A cuckoo sang in the forest, and was answered from a treewithin the distant palisade. Felix chopped away slowly and deliberately;he was not a good workman. Oliver watched his progress with contempt; hecould have put it into shape in half the time. Felix could draw, anddesign; he could invent, but he was not a practical workman, to givespeedy and accurate effect to his ideas.
"My opinion is," said Oliver, "that that canoe will not float upright.It's one-sided."
Felix, usually so self-controlled, could not refrain from casting hischisel down angrily. But he picked it up again, and said nothing. Thissilence had more influence upon Oliver, whose nature was very generous,than the bitterest retort. He sat up on the sward.
"I will help launch it," he said. "We could manage it between us, if youdon't want a lot of the fellows down here."
"Thank you. I should like that best."
"And I will help you with the cart when you start."
Oliver rolled over on his back, and looked up idly at the white flecksof cloud sailing at a great height.
"Old Mouse is a wretch not to give me a command," he said presently.
Felix looked round involuntarily, lest any one should have heard; Mousewas the nick-name for the Prince. Like all who rule with irresponsiblepower, the Prince had spies everywhere. He was not a cruel man, nor abenevolent, neither clever nor foolish, neither strong nor weak; simplyan ordinary, a very ordinary being, who chanced to sit upon a thronebecause his ancestors did, and not from any personal superiority.
He was at times much influenced by those around him; at others he tookhis own course, right or wrong; at another he let matters drift. Therewas never any telling in the morning what he might do towards night, forthere was no vein of will or bias running through his character. Infact, he lacked character; he was all uncertainty, except in jealousy ofhis supremacy. Possibly some faint perception of his own incapacity, ofthe feeble grasp he had upon the State, that seemed outwardly socompletely his, occasionally crossed his mind.
Hence the furious scenes with his brother; hence the suddenimprisonments and equally sudden pardons; the spies and eavesdroppers,the sequestration of estates for no apparent cause. And, following theseerratic severities to the suspected nobles, proclamations givingprivileges to the people, and removing taxes. But in a few days thesewere imposed again, and men who dared to murmur were beaten by thesoldiers, or cast into the dungeons. Yet Prince Louis (the family wereall of the same name) was not an ill-meaning man; he often meant well,but had no stability or firmness of purpose.
This was why Felix dreaded lest some chance listener should hear Oliverabuse him. Oliver had been in the army for some time; his excellence inall arms, and especially with lance and sword, his acknowledged courage,and his noble birth, entitled him to a command, however lowly it mightbe. But he was still in the ranks, and not the slightest recognition hadever been taken of his feats, except, indeed, if whispers were true, bysome sweet smiles from a certain lady of the palace, who admiredknightly prowess.
Oliver chafed under this neglect.
"I would not say that kind of thing," remarked Felix. "Certainly it isannoying."
"Annoying! that is a mild expression. Of course, everyone knows thereason. If we had any money, or influence, it would be very different.But Sir Constans has neither gold nor power, and he might have hadboth."
"There was a clerk from the notary's at the house yesterday evening,"said Felix.
"About the debts, no doubt. Some day the cunning old scoundrel, when hecan squeeze no more interest out of us, will find a legal quibble andtake the lot."
"Or put us in the Blue Chamber, the first time the Prince goes to warand wants money. The Blue Chamber will say, 'Where can we get it? Who'sweakest?' 'Why, Sir Constans!' 'Then away with him.'"
"Yes, that will be it. Yet I wish a war would happen; there would besome chance for me. I would go with you in your canoe, but you are goingyou don't know where. What's your object? Nothing. You don't knowyourself."
"Indeed!"
"No, you don't; you're a dreamer."
"I am afraid it is true."
"I hate dreams." After a pause, in a lower voice, "Have you any money?"
Felix took out his purse and showed him the copper pieces.
"The eldest son of Constans Aquila with ten copper pieces," growledOliver, rising, but taking them all the same. "Lend them to me. I'll trythem on the board to-night. Fancy me putting down _copper!_ It'sintolerable" (working himself into a rage). "I'll turn bandit, and robon the roads. I'll go to King Yeo and fight the Welsh. Confusion!"
He rushed into the forest, leaving his spear on the sward.
Felix quietly chipped away at the block he was shaping, but his temper,too, was inwardly rising. The same talk, varied in detail, but the samein point, took place every time the brothers were together, and alwayswith the same result of anger. In earlier days Sir
Constans had been asforward in all warlike exercises as Oliver was now, and being possessedof extraordinary physical strength, took a leading part among men.Wielding his battle-axe with irresistible force, he distinguishedhimself in several battles and sieges.
He had a singular talent for mechanical construction (the wheel by whichwater was drawn from the well at the palace was designed by him), butthis very ingenuity was the beginning of his difficulties. During a longsiege, he invented a machine for casting large stones against the walls,or rather put it together from the fragmentary descriptions he had seenin authors, whose works had almost perished before the dispersion of theancients; for he, too, had been studious in youth.
The old Prince was highly pleased with this engine, which promised himspeedy conquest over his enemies, and the destruction of theirstrongholds. But the nobles who had the hereditary command of the siegeartillery, which consisted mainly of battering-rams, could not endure tosee their prestige vanishing. They caballed, traduced the Baron, and hefell into disgrace. This disgrace, as he was assured by secret messagesfrom the Prince, was but policy; he would be recalled so soon as thePrince felt himself able to withstand the pressure of the nobles. But ithappened that the old Prince died at that juncture, and the presentPrince succeeded.
The enemies of the Baron, having access to him, obtained his confidence;the Baron was arrested and amerced in a heavy fine, the payment of whichlaid the foundation of those debts which had since been constantlyincreasing. He was then released, but was not for some two yearspermitted to approach the Court. Meantime, men of not half his descent,but with an unblushing brow and unctuous tongue, had become thefavourites at the palace of the Prince, who, as said before, was notbad, but the mere puppet of circumstances.
Into competition with these vulgar flatterers Aquila could not enter. Itwas indeed pride, and nothing but pride, that had kept him from thepalace. By slow degrees he had sunk out of sight, occupying himself moreand more with mechanical inventions, and with gardening, till at last hehad come to be regarded as no more than an agriculturist. Yet in thisobscure condition he had not escaped danger.
The common people were notoriously attached to him. Whether this was dueto his natural kindliness, his real strength of intellect, and charm ofmanner, or whether it was on account of the uprightness with which hejudged between them, or whether it was owing to all these thingscombined, certain it is that there was not a man on the estate thatwould not have died for him. Certain it is, too, that he was beloved bythe people of the entire district, and more especially by the shepherdsof the hills, who were freer and less under the control of the patriciancaste. Instead of carrying disputes to the town, to be adjudged by thePrince's authority, many were privately brought to him.
This, by degrees becoming known, excited the jealousy and anger of thePrince, an anger cunningly inflamed by the notary Francis, and by othernobles. But they hesitated to execute anything against him lest thepeople should rise, and it was doubtful, indeed, if the very retainersof the nobles would attack the Old House, if ordered. Thus the Baron'sweakness was his defence. The Prince, to do him justice, soon forgot thematter, and laughed at his own folly, that he should be jealous of a manwho was no more than an agriculturist.
The rest were not so appeased; they desired the Baron's destruction ifonly from hatred of his popularity, and they lost no opportunity ofcasting discredit upon him, or of endeavouring to alienate theaffections of the people by representing him as a magician, a thingclearly proved by his machines and engines, which must have beendesigned by some supernatural assistance. But the chief, as the mostimmediate and pressing danger, was the debt to Francis the notary, whichmight at any moment be brought before the Court.
Thus it was that the three sons found themselves without money orposition, with nothing but a bare patent of nobility. The third andyoungest alone had made any progress, if such it could be called. Bydint of his own persistent efforts, and by enduring insults and rebuffswith indifference, he had at last obtained an appointment in thatsection of the Treasury which received the dues upon merchandise, andregulated the imposts. He was but a messenger at every man's call; hispay was not sufficient to obtain his food, still it was an advance, andhe was in a government office. He could but just exist in the town,sleeping in a garret, where he stored the provisions he took in with himevery Monday morning from the Old House. He came home on the Saturdayand returned to his work on the Monday. Even his patience was almostworn out.
The whole place was thus falling to decay, while at the same time itseemed to be flowing with milk and honey, for under the Baron's personalattention the estate, though so carelessly guarded, had become a verygarden. The cattle had increased, and were of the best kind, the horseswere celebrated and sought for, the sheep valued, the crops the wonderof the province. Yet there was no money; the product went to the notary.This extraordinary fertility was the cause of the covetous longing ofthe Court favourites to divide the spoil.