The MS. in a Red Box

  CHAPTER VI

  Farm business held me from going over to Sandtoft for many days. Muchof our land was too rich for the growing of corn--which was apt tospoil on the ground by its own rankness--and was sown with line yearafter year. This season it fell to my lot to meet the merchants, whocame to buy our standing crops, and to show them hospitality. Havingoccasion to go to Crowle on this business, bargains concluded, I paidmy respects to my relatives at the vicarage, little thinking of thereward awaiting my dutiful behaviour. As I entered the door, I heardmy aunt cry out, "Frank! I know your step. Come this way." The voicecame from the store-room, where I found the notable housewife, amongthe tubs and jars and boxes, from which she had so often produceddainty cakes and preserved fruits for the delight of my juvenile palate.

  "At last you have remembered that you have an aunt!" said she, liftingher face to me. "I am busy now, but I will talk to you after dinner.I have company to-day."

  "What company?" I asked.

  "People you know, Mistress Goel and her father. What is there in thatto make you open your eyes so wide?"

  "I did not know of your acquaintance with them, that is all."

  My aunt gave me to understand that the vicar had visited the strangerswhen they lodged at the White Hart, and invited them to the vicarage.She herself had taken a violent fondness for the daughter, and for thefather a superb contempt.

  "The man's daft, or he would not bring a girl to live in a hole likeSandtoft, where there is no other woman except her maid and the wivesof mechanics and labourers, and the men are all boors and savages. Theonly excuse for such barbarity is that the man has lost his wits. Butthere's a Providence above, and the poor, dear child will have herrecompense. There's a coronet at her feet, or soon will be."

  "God in heaven! You cannot mean that you favour that beast, Sheffield!"

  "No profane language here, Frank. Lord Sheffield is a changed man."Nothing could exceed my aunt's complacency as she gave me thisassurance.

  "Has he made proposal of marriage?" I asked.

  "Not directly as yet; but he is quite open with me," and the good womansmiled loftily.

  "Then he comes here?"

  "He has been several times to hear your uncle discourse, who issatisfied that a work of grace has begun in his lordship's soul. But,bless me! I shall be late with dinner." And she began to bustle amongher stores.

  "When do your guests arrive?" I asked.

  "They have been here since the day before yesterday. You will findthem in the garden." So saying, she hurried off to the kitchen.

  What Sheffield's game might be, I could not guess; but that he had someevil design in professing to be edified by the homilies of the simpleclergyman, and in flattering his still simpler wife, there could be nodoubt whatever.

  The sight of Mistress Goel in a chair on the grass-plot under the shadeof an old pear-tree drove away my gloomy surmisings. She rose to greetme in her pretty way of formal courtesy, and when she resumed her seat,I threw myself on the grass near her, and found her bright facelovelier than ever when looked at from that position.

  "How long it is since I saw you!" said I. "I have been full ofbusiness which I might not leave, or I should have been to Sandtoft erethis."

  "It is well that you have not," she answered. "Our men are furious.Almost every night a machine is broken, or something is stolen, or anattempt to fire the buildings is made. Four days ago, a barge camedown the river too late to be unladen, and the man who kept watch onboard was seized, gagged, and bound, and the boat was scuttled, withthe man in it. It was done with such stealth that our men knew nothingof it until morning, although the sentinels had been at their posts allthrough the night."

  "But I have nothing to do with midnight marauders," I growled.

  "Our men do not know that. They have heard that you are one of theinstigators of these doings."

  "Is not my--my acquaintance with you a warrant that I am not an enemy?"

  "No. I am sorry to confess that our acquaintance leads to our beingsuspected rather than to your absolution."

  "Good heavens! Our Islonians have not a monopoly of barbarism, itwould seem."

  "Remember that our men are strangers in a strange land. They areplundered, harassed, threatened. Some of their comrades have beenkilled. The night attacks are so skilfully made as to lead them tothink there must be a traitor within the camp. My father is in thehabit of walking and watching late o' nights, and I have talked withone of the enemy. Most unhappily, Vermuijden is away, and it isuncertain when he will return. I was glad indeed to leave thesettlement for a few days, and you will be wise not to come over atpresent."

  "I have no inducement to visit the settlement while you are at thevicarage, which is a much more fitting abode for you than a hut atSandtoft."

  "So Mrs. Graves will have it, and in her kindness would detain me hereI know not how long; but my place is with my father, and he is byagreement physician to the settlers. You are not to think that myfather brought me thoughtlessly to Sandtoft."

  How beautiful she looked as she bent forward, her face aglow with loveand pride!

  "He is not so much absorbed in science as to forget his care for hisdaughter. Oh no, indeed! He would have had me stay in Leyden, when hefled. He entreated, almost commanded me to go to the care of friendsin Amsterdam, when he left Paris, and to remain there until he had asuitable home for me in England. But what is home? Do masons andcarpenters make it? For me, it is where my father lives. My motherdied in my seventh year, and my father did his utmost to make up myloss. His grief made him an old man before his time: his days werefilled with labour, and the most learned and polished society in Europemade claim on his leisure, but nothing was allowed to interfere withhis tender care of his little daughter. He continued his great lovefor his wife in his love for her motherless child. Pardon me that Isay all this, but I could not bear that you should misconstrue myfather."

  I forgot to answer, looking up with pure delight into the beaming eyes.Surely, she cared something for me, unworthy as I was, since she wishedthat I should respect her father as he deserved. At length I repliedsoftly--

  "I count it great honour that you have told me."

  But my new reverence for Doctor Goel was instantly in danger, for hecame up to us, a cabbage-leaf in one hand and his magnifying-glass inthe other, and pointed out something to his daughter in greatexcitement. He turned to me while she looked, and plunged intoEnglish, of which I reproduce the sense, not the exact words--

  "Your great Bacon thought that caterpillars were engendered of dew andleaves by putrefaction. But it is not so. They come from eggs, laidby the butterfly. It is one more instance to confirm the theory thatevery living thing derives its being from a parent."

  And the old gentleman rubbed his hands and smiled, as if he had found adiamond. 'Twas all I could do to refrain from laughing at this adoabout some tiny caterpillars on a cabbage-leaf, but Mistress Goelseemed to enter into her father's pleasure, and, to my astonishment,said something to him in Latin, as if quoting a book, to which hereplied by a long sentence in the same language. Then he returned tothe harness-room, taking his precious cabbage-leaf with him.

  Happily, the clang of the dinner-bell called us into the house, andsaved me from uttering my opinion on the value of studying grubs.After dinner, during which nothing was said which needs record here,the vicar withdrew to his study, the doctor to the harness-room, wherehe smoked his pipe, my aunt to her room for her customary nap, soMistress Goel and I strolled round the garden. Somehow, I was led onto talk of myself, a topic on which I was fluent, not to say vapouring.I confided to the lady the dubious state of the Vavasour fortunes, andspoke of retrieving them by the sword. I more than half hinted at myfather's project for the relief of our estate, and of differencebetween him and me on that account. In fine, I was autobiographical,sentimental, braggart. The patient hearing, the gentle glance, thesweet smile on my companion's lips lured me on to talk as I had nevertal
ked before. Little did I dream that I was pouring out my boyishcrudities to one of the most accomplished women of the Netherlands, thebosom friend of Tesselschade Visscher, a distinguished member of thebrilliant circle who made the Visscher _salon_ famous throughoutEurope. Happy in my ignorance, young bumpkin that I was, I babbled on,and she listened and answered as simply as any rustic damsel. I longedto tell her how I loved her, but held myself in check, remembering thatI might be disinherited to-morrow, and what a poor heritage at bestmine was like to be. Longed! I ached with longing. And when Ithought of Sheffield, it was as though my head and heart would burst,so full I was with jealousy and rage. What I might have said, if wehad been left alone awhile longer, I do not know, but my aunt came outto join us, and she stuck like a leech. I sauntered to theharness-room, where the doctor sat, smoking his pipe, and fell intotalk with him. His English improved as we conversed, and I got thenotion that he had once used the tongue with freedom. He askedquestions about our farming, the trees and herbs in the fenny soil, thebirds and beasts of our woods and marshes. He told me curious thingsof the weeds spread upon a rough table before him--some too marvellousfor belief, but I kept my countenance. He had been seeking glow-worms,and I told him where they were to be found. I asked him questionsconcerning some things which had puzzled me, and received answers fulland plain. He grew very friendly, and our talk lasted untilsupper-time.

  That supper would have been a right pleasant meal but for one thing.The room was gay with vine-leaves, green boughs, and bunches of rosesin jars and vases. Never had I seen it so gracefully decked, and Iknew whose handiwork it was. My aunt had skill in providing, as thetable bore witness, set out with well-cooked poultry, tench, salmon,plovers' eggs, dainty tarts, and amber-coloured ale and French andSpanish wine, but the adornment of the table and the room was new andstrange. When the doctor and I entered the room, "my Lord Arrogance"stood at the other end, bending reverentially to listen to the vicar'stalk, He made his bow to the doctor, and we took our seats--Sheffieldat Mrs. Graves' right hand, Mistress Goel next him, the doctor and I onthe other side of the table.

  Sheffield talked with the Goels of Brederoo's _Farce of the Cow_, andof some tragedy by Vondel. He applauded the genius and enterprise ofDoctor Samuel Coster, and praised to the skies the Sisters RoemerVisscher. It was in listening to this conversation that I discoveredhow intimate Mistress Goel was with those learned and beautiful ladies.The playwrights and poets of Amsterdam and Leyden were quite unknown tome, and to the vicar and my aunt; but Sheffield contrived to interestMrs. Graves by condescending to explain to her, and appealing to hertaste and judgment, and he pleased his host by a sentence now and thenin which he implied that these topics were far beneath the altitude ofhis sacred learning. I imagined that Sheffield designed to expose myclownish ignorance in contrast with his knowledge of the literature ofthe Netherlands; but his evident anxiety to keep the direction of theconversation in his own hands, and an exchange of glances betweenfather and daughter, as if some remark of his tickled them to the pointof laughter, made me aware that his lordship did but repeat a lessonwith which he had been stuffed for the occasion. In a little time hehad taken a good deal of wine, and then he did me the honour to becomeaware of my presence.

  "I' faith," said he, "'tis uncourteous to Vavasour to talk only ofdivine poesy. Does line fetch a good price this year?"

  The inquiry was addressed to me, but before I could answer, MistressGoel shot me a question--

  "What did you say was the motto of Sir William Vavasour?"

  I had said nothing of a motto peculiar to this ancestor of mine, andcould not at once see the drift of the query. Then I perceived that itwas meant to stay the anger which had sent the hot blood into my face,and I answered her with the first jingle I could remember.

  Soon after sunset thick clouds gathered, cutting short the twilight,and candles were brought in. Then my aunt prayed Mistress Goel tosing, and I learned what ineffable delight may be in music, for thesinger had the art-concealing art, and sang as the thrushes andnightingales do. The old spinet became another instrument under thetouch of her fingers. I sat entranced, listening to song after song,watching the singing with devouring eyes. To my wonder the songs werechiefly English, and some of them the simple ballads dear topeasant-folk. By-and-by Mrs. Graves asked for "that Spanish duetto,"which she had heard Sheffield sing with her guest, and he condescendedto gratify her. 'Twas a concert of crow and nightingale, but thefellow tugged at his collar, and stuck up his chin, and wriggled about,as if his performance had been the finest in the world.

  During the last hour the low rumble of distant thunder had been heard,and just as the Spanish song ended, there came a flash of lightning,and a tremendous peal of thunder immediately followed, loud enough tobe the crack of doom. My aunt began a great fuss about having no bedto offer me, and the necessity of my going home before the storm grewworse, and I was in a manner forced out of the house. So I made myadieux, promising the doctor some glow-worms in a day or two. As Ibade Mistress Goel good night I thought her little hand trembled, andthere was a look in the brown eyes which I chose to interpret asconcern for my safety.

  On first setting off, Trueboy was uneasy, the lightning becomingfrequent and the thunder almost continuous, but a firm rein and alittle soothing brought him to composure.

  I have never seen lightning more splendid. At every flash a fireseemed to run along the ground before me, and the water on either sideglared redly, while quite distant trees showed, or appeared to show,their every leaf. Near Hirst Priory, some cattle and horses, which hadleaped the fences in their panic, were scampering to and fro on thecausey like mad creatures, running great risk of bogging themselves inthe swampy margins of the road. It would have been unneighbourly topass on and leave Farmer Brewer's bestial to their fate, so I openedthe gate of the drift, and then gathered and drove all I could see intotheir owner's grounds. It was slow and difficult work, the beastsbeing so wild with fear, and the only light that of the flashes whichfollowed one another for some seconds without intermission, thesucceeding darkness bringing me to a stand; but at length it was done.Then I battered and bawled at the door of the hind's cottage. Heopened after some minutes, and stood quaking and shaking like a man inan ague-fit.

  "O Lord! Be it you, Master Frank? I thought it was the devil come tofetch me. The Almighty's terrible angry, for sure."

  I bade the man stick some bushes on the gate and the fences near,remaining to see that he obeyed, bantering him the while on hisridiculous fear that his sins had put the elements into such commotion.When he had finished the job, I rode slowly on, pondering a fact whichI had noted in collecting the cattle, namely, that the waters of themarsh had risen, and encroached on the causeway here and there,although no rain had yet fallen. All at once, Trueboy started off at agreat pace, and I became aware of hoof-beats behind me. I pulled himup, and he capered about a bit, for he was never willing to be passedon the road.

  "Out of the way, there," shouted a voice, which I recognised asSheffield's.

  I turned in the saddle, and asked, "Is my lord so drunk as to need allthe breadth of the causey?"

  "Oh, it is you!" answered Sheffield. "You might as well have staid tosee my leman give me the parting kiss, hanging on my neck, pressing hersweet lips to mine."

  By this time we were riding side by side.

  "Liar!" said I, and dealt him a blow across the face with my whip.

  I drew rein, expecting that he would take instant revenge with sword orpistol, and ready enough for the encounter, though I had no weapon butthe one I had used. But he did not strike. He said something which Icould not understand, and I felt a crashing blow on the head. Iremember thinking I had been struck by lightning. The next thing Iknew was that I lay on the causey, dizzy and sick. By degrees, I foundthat my clothing was drenched, and supposed that the rain had come andsoaked me while I lay unconscious. Then I perceived that Brewer's hindwas stooping over me, and that he was dripping wet. Shortl
yafterwards, I came fully to myself, and heard the man's account of whathad befallen me. Briefly, it was this: he had lingered at the gate aminute or two after I rode away, and saw two horsemen follow me.Thinking they might be highwaymen, he had plucked up courage to runafter them, and came near enough to recognise by a flash that one ofthe men was Sheffield's gigantic black servant. Supposing me to be inno danger from him or his master, the man had turned toward his cottageagain, when he heard a great splash, and a succession of lightninggleams showed him two men riding off, and my horse riderless. Hehurried up, and found Trueboy, up to the chest in the water, trembling.The fellow had the wit to guess that the horse was trying to reach hismaster, so he waded cautiously forward, and found me lying two feetbelow the surface. My enemy had shown readiness and cleverness,assuredly. But for the presence of the one spectator, I should havedrowned quietly, and it would have been supposed that the death wasaccidental.

  "Now, Stubbs," said I, "you have made me your friend and debtor forlife; but you must remember that if you say a word of this matter, youwill make another sort of debtor, who will pay you quickly."

  Stubbs vowed perpetual silence, and we parted, I to ride home, feelingextremely queer. The lightning still flashed, but at longer intervals,and before I had gone a hundred yards, there came a gust which tossedupward the tree branches and beat down the reeds, and the rain fell instreams. That was no matter to me, for I was as wet as man could be,but Trueboy misliked it, so the rest of our way we flew.