Puck of Pook's Hill

  HAL O' THE DRAFT

  A rainy afternoon drove Dan and Una over to play pirates in the LittleMill. If you don't mind rats on the rafters and oats in your shoes, themill-attic, with its trap-doors and inscriptions on beams about floods andsweethearts, is a splendid place. It is lighted by a foot-square window,called Duck Window, that looks across to Little Lindens Farm, and the spotwhere Jack Cade was killed.

  When they had climbed the attic ladder (they called it the 'mainmast tree'out of the ballad of Sir Andrew Barton, and Dan 'swarved it with might andmain,' as the ballad says) they saw a man sitting on Duck window-sill. Hewas dressed in a plum-coloured doublet and tight plum-coloured hose, andhe drew busily in a red-edged book.

  'Sit ye! Sit ye!' Puck cried from a rafter overhead. 'See what it is to bebeautiful! Sir Harry Dawe--pardon, Hal--says I am the very image of a headfor a gargoyle.'

  The man laughed and raised his dark velvet cap to the children, and hisgrizzled hair bristled out in a stormy fringe. He was old--forty atleast--but his eyes were young, with funny little wrinkles all round them.A satchel of embroidered leather hung from his broad belt, which lookedinteresting.

  'May we see?' said Una, coming forward.

  'Surely--sure-ly!' he said, moving up on the window-seat, and returned tohis work with a silver-pointed pencil. Puck sat as though the grin werefixed for ever on his broad face, while they watched the quick, certainfingers that copied it. Presently the man took a reed pen from hissatchel, and trimmed it with a little ivory knife, carved in the semblanceof a fish.

  'Oh, what a beauty!' cried Dan.

  ''Ware fingers! That blade is perilous sharp. I made it myself of the bestLow Country cross-bow steel. And so, too, this fish. When his back-fintravels to his tail--so--he swallows up the blade, even as the whaleswallowed Gaffer Jonah.... Yes, and that's my ink-horn. I made the foursilver saints round it. Press Barnabas's head. It opens, and then----' Hedipped the trimmed pen, and with careful boldness began to put in theessential lines of Puck's rugged face, that had been but faintly revealedby the silver-point.

  The children gasped, for it fairly leaped from the page.

  As he worked, and the rain fell on the tiles, he talked--now clearly, nowmuttering, now breaking off to frown or smile at his work. He told them hewas born at Little Lindens Farms, and his father used to beat him fordrawing things instead of doing things, till an old priest called FatherRoger, who drew illuminated letters in rich people's books, coaxed theparents to let him take the boy as a sort of painter's apprentice. Then hewent with Father Roger to Oxford, where he cleaned plates and carriedcloaks and shoes for the scholars of a College called Merton.

  'Didn't you hate that?' said Dan after a great many other questions.

  'I never thought on't. Half Oxford was building new colleges orbeautifying the old, and she had called to her aid the master-craftsmen ofall Christendie--kings in their trade and honoured of Kings. I knew them. Iworked for them: that was enough. No wonder----' He stopped and laughed.

  'You became a great man,' said Puck.

  'They said so, Robin. Even Bramante said so.'

  'Why? What did you do?' Dan asked.

  The artist looked at him queerly. 'Things in stone and such, up and downEngland. You would not have heard of 'em. To come nearer home, Ire-builded this little St. Bartholomew's church of ours. It cost me moretrouble and sorrow than aught I've touched in my life. But 'twas a soundlesson.'

  'Um,' said Dan. 'We had lessons this morning.'

  'I'll not afflict ye, lad,' said Hal, while Puck roared. 'Only 'tisstrange to think how that little church was re-built, re-roofed, and madeglorious, thanks to some few godly Sussex iron-masters, a Bristol sailorlad, a proud ass called Hal o' the Draft because, d'you see, he was alwaysdrawing and drafting; and'--he dragged the words slowly--'_and_ a Scotchpirate.'

  'Pirate?' said Dan. He wriggled like a hooked fish.

  'Even that Andrew Barton you were singing of on the stair just now.' Hedipped again in the ink-well, and held his breath over a sweeping line, asthough he had forgotten everything else.

  'Pirates don't build churches, do they?' said Dan. 'Or _do_ they?'

  'They help mightily,' Hal laughed. 'But you were at your lessons thismorn, Jack Scholar?'

  'Oh, pirates aren't lessons. It was only Bruce and his silly old spider,'said Una. 'Why did Sir Andrew Barton help you?'

  'I question if he ever knew it,' said Hal, twinkling. 'Robin, howa-mischief's name am I to tell these innocents what comes of sinfulpride?'

  'Oh, we know all about _that_,' said Una pertly. 'If you get toobeany--that's cheeky--you get sat upon, of course.'

  Hal considered a moment, pen in air, and Puck said some long words.

  'Aha! That was my case too,' he cried. 'Beany--you say--but certainly I didnot conduct myself well. I was proud of--of such things as porches--aGalilee porch at Lincoln for choice--proud of one Torrigiano's arm on myshoulder, proud of my knighthood when I made the gilt scroll-work for _TheSovereign_--our King's ship. But Father Roger sitting in Merton Library, hedid not forget me. At the top of my pride, when I and no other should havebuilded the porch at Lincoln, he laid it on me with a terrible forefingerto go back to my Sussex clays and re-build, at my own charges, my ownchurch, where we Dawes have been buried for six generations. "Out! Son ofmy Art!" said he. "Fight the Devil at home ere you call yourself a man anda craftsman." And I quaked, and I went.... How's yon, Robin?' Heflourished the finished sketch before Puck.

  'Me! Me past peradventure,' said Puck, smirking like a man at a mirror.'Ah, see! The rain has took off! I hate housen in daylight.'

  'Whoop! Holiday!' cried Hal, leaping up. 'Who's for my Little Lindens? Wecan talk there.'

  They tumbled downstairs, and turned past the dripping willows by the sunnymill dam.

  'Body o' me,' said Hal, staring at the hop-garden, where the hops werejust ready to blossom. 'What are these vines? No, not vines, and theytwine the wrong way to beans.' He began to draw in his ready book.

  'Hops. New since your day,' said Puck. 'They're an herb of Mars, and theirflowers dried flavour ale. We say:--

  '"Turkeys, Heresy, Hops, and Beer Came into England all in one year."'

  'Heresy I know. I've seen Hops--God be praised for their beauty! What isyour Turkis?'

  The children laughed. They knew the Lindens turkeys, and as soon as theyreached Lindens' orchard on the hill the flock charged at them.

  Out came Hal's book at once. 'Hoity-toity!' he cried. 'Here's Pride inpurple feathers! Here's wrathy contempt and the Pomps of the Flesh! Howd'you call _them_?'

  'Turkeys! Turkeys!' the children shouted, as the old gobbler raved andflamed against Hal's plum-coloured hose.

  'Save Your Magnificence!' he said. 'I've drafted two good new thingsto-day.' And he doffed his cap to the bubbling bird.

  Then they walked through the grass to the knoll where Little Lindensstands. The old farm-house, weather-tiled to the ground, took almost thecolour of a blood-ruby in the afternoon light. The pigeons pecked at themortar in the chimney-stacks; the bees that had lived under the tilessince it was built filled the hot August air with their booming; and thesmell of the box-tree by the dairy-window mixed with the smell of earthafter rain, bread after baking, and a tickle of wood-smoke.

  The farmer's wife came to the door, baby on arm, shaded her brows againstthe sun, stooped to pluck a sprig of rosemary, and turned down theorchard. The old spaniel in his barrel barked once or twice to show he wasin charge of the empty house. Puck clicked back the garden-gate.

  'D'you marvel that I love it?' said Hal, in a whisper. 'What can town folkknow of the nature of housen--or land?'

  'Hoity-toity,' he cried. 'Here's Pride in purple feathers! Here's wrathy contempt and the Pomps of the Flesh!'... And he doffed his cap to the bubbling bird.]

  They perched themselves arow on the old hacked oak bench in Lindens'garden, looking across the valley of the brook at the fern-covered dimplesand hollows of the Forge behind Hobden's cott
age. The old man was cuttinga faggot in his garden by the hives. It was quite a second after hischopper fell that the chump of the blow reached their lazy ears.

  'Eh--yeh!' said Hal. 'I mind when where that old gaffer stands was NetherForge--Master John Collins's foundry. Many a night has his big trip-hammershook me in my bed here. _Boom-bitty! Boom-bitty!_ If the wind was east, Icould hear Master Tom Collins's forge at Stockens answering his brother,_Boom-oop! Boom-oop!_ and midway between, Sir John Pelham's sledge-hammersat Brightling would strike in like a pack o'scholars, and "_Hic-haec-hoc_"they'd say, "_Hic-haec-hoc_," till I fell asleep. Yes. The valley was asfull o' forges and fineries as a May shaw o' cuckoos. All gone to grassnow!'

  'What did they make?' said Dan.

  'Guns for the King's ships--and for others. Serpentines and cannon mostly.When the guns were cast, down would come the King's Officers, and take ourplough-oxen to haul them to the coast. Look! Here's one of the first andfinest craftsmen of the Sea!'

  He fluttered back a page of his book, and showed them a young man's head.Underneath was written: 'Sebastianus.'

  'He came down with a King's Order on Master John Collins for twentyserpentines (wicked little cannon they be!) to furnish a venture of ships.I drafted him thus sitting by our fire telling Mother of the new landshe'd find the far side the world. And he found them, too! There's a noseto cleave through unknown seas! Cabot was his name--a Bristol lad--half aforeigner. I set a heap by him. He helped me to my church-building.'

  'I thought that was Sir Andrew Barton,' said Dan.

  'Ay, but foundations before roofs,' Hal answered. 'Sebastian first put mein the way of it. I had come down here, not to serve God as a craftsmanshould, but to show my people how great a craftsman I was. They cared not,and it served me right, one split straw for my craft or my greatness. Whata murrain call had I, they said, to mell with old St. Barnabas's? Ruinousthe church had been since the Black Death, and ruinous she should remain;and I could hang myself in my new scaffold-ropes! Gentle and simple, highand low--the Hayes, the Fowles, the Fanners, the Collinses--they were all ina tale against me. Only Sir John Pelham up yonder to Brightling bade meheart-up and go on. Yet how could I? Did I ask Master Collins for histimber-tug to haul beams? The oxen had gone to Lewes after lime. Did hepromise me a set of iron cramps or ties for the roof? They never came tohand, or else they were spaulty or cracked. So with everything. Nothingsaid, but naught done except I stood by them, and then done amiss. Ithought the countryside was fair bewitched.'

  'It was, sure-ly,' said Puck, knees under chin. 'Did you never suspect anyone?'

  'Not till Sebastian came for his guns, and John Collins played him thesame dog's tricks as he'd played me with my ironwork. Week in, week out,two of three serpentines would be flawed in the casting, and only fit,they said, to be remelted. Then John Collins would shake his head, and vowhe could pass no cannon for the King's service that were not perfect.Saints! How Sebastian stormed! _I_ know, for we sat on this bench sharingour sorrows inter-common.

  'When Sebastian had fumed away six weeks at Lindens and gotten just sixserpentines, Dirk Brenzett, Master of the _Cygnet_ hoy, sends me word thatthe block of stone he was fetching me from France for our new font he'dhove overboard to lighten his ship, chased by Andrew Barton up to RyePort.'

  'Ah! The pirate!' said Dan.

  'Yes. And while I am tearing my hair over this, Ticehurst Will, my bestmason, comes to me shaking, and vowing that the Devil, horned, tailed, andchained, has run out on him from the church-tower, and the men would workthere no more. So I took 'em off the foundations, which we werestrengthening, and went into the Bell Tavern for a cup of ale. Says MasterJohn Collins: "Have it your own way, lad; but if I was you, I'd take thesinnification o' the sign, and leave old Barnabas's Church alone!" Andthey all wagged their sinful heads, and agreed. Less afraid of the Devilthan of me--as I saw later.

  'When I brought my sweet news to Lindens, Sebastian was limewashing thekitchen-beams for Mother. He loved her like a son.

  '"Cheer up, lad," he says. "God's where He was. Only you and I chance tobe pure pute asses! We've been tricked, Hal, and more shame to me, asailor, that I did not guess it before! You must leave your belfry alone,forsooth, because the Devil is adrift there; and I cannot get myserpentines because John Collins cannot cast them aright. Meantime AndrewBarton hawks off the Port of Rye. And why? To take those very serpentineswhich poor Cabot must whistle for; the said serpentines, I'll wager myshare of new Continents, being now hid away in St. Barnabas church tower.Clear as the Irish coast at noonday!"

  '"They'd sure never dare to do it," I said; "and for another thing,selling cannon to the King's enemies is black treason--hanging and fine."

  '"It is sure large profit. Men'll dare any gallows for that. I have been atrader myself," says he. "We must be upsides with 'em for the honour ofBristol."

  'Then he hatched a plot, sitting on the lime-wash bucket. We gave out toride o' Tuesday to London and made a show of making farewells of ourfriends--especially of Master John Collins. But at Wadhurst Woods weturned; rode by night to the watermeadows; hid our horses in a willow-totat the foot of the glebe, and stole a-tiptoe up hill to Barnabas's churchagain. A thick mist, and a moon coming through.

  'I had no sooner locked the tower-door behind us than over goes Sebastianfull length in the dark.

  '"Pest!" he says. "Step high and feel low, Hal. I've stumbled over gunsbefore."

  'I groped, and one by one--the tower was pitchy dark--I counted the litherbarrels of twenty serpentines laid out on pease-straw. No conceal at all!

  '"There's two demi-cannon my end," says Sebastian, slapping metal."They'll be for Andrew Barton's lower deck. Honest--honest John Collins! Sothis is his warehouse, his arsenal, his armoury! Now, see you why yourpokings and pryings have raised the Devil in Sussex? You've hinderedJohn's lawful trade for months," and he laughed where he lay.

  'A clay-cold tower is no fireside at midnight, so we climbed the belfrystairs, and there Sebastian trips over a cow-hide with its horns and tail.

  '"Aha! Your Devil has left his doublet! Does it become me, Hal?" He drawsit on and capers in the slits of window-moonlight--won'erful devilish-like.Then he sits on the stair, rapping with his tail on a board, and hisback-aspect was dreader than his front; and a howlet lit in, and screechedat the horns of him.

  '"If you'd keep out the Devil, shut the door," he whispered. "And that'sanother false proverb, Hal, for I can hear your tower-door opening."

  '"I locked it. Who a-plague has another key, then?" I said.

  '"All the congregation, to judge by their feet," he says, and peers intothe blackness. "Still! Still, Hal! Hear 'em grunt! That's more o' myserpentines, I'll be bound. One--two--three--four they bear in! Faith, Andrewequips himself like an admiral! Twenty-four serpentines in all!"

  'As if it had been an echo, we heard John Collins's voice come up allhollow: "Twenty-four serpentines and two demi-cannon. That's the fulltally for Sir Andrew Barton."

  '"Courtesy costs naught," whispers Sebastian. "Shall I drop my dagger onhis head?"

  '"They go over to Rye o' Thursday in the wool-wains, hid under the woolpacks. Dirk Brenzett meets them at Udimore, as before," says John.

  '"Lord! What a worn, handsmooth trade it is!" says Sebastian. "I lay weare the sole two babes in the village that have not our lawful share inthe venture."

  'There was a full score folk below, talking like all Robertsbridge Market.We counted them by voice.

  'Master John Collins pipes: "The guns for the French carrack must lie herenext month. Will, when does your young fool (me, so please you!) come backfrom Lunnon?"

  '"No odds," I heard Ticehurst Will answer. "Lay 'em just where you've amind, Mus' Collins. We're all too afraid o' the Devil to mell with thetower now." And the long knave laughed.

  '"Ah! 'tis easy enow for you to raise the Devil, Will," says another--RalphHobden from the Forge.

  '"Aaa-men!" roars Sebastian, and ere I could hold him, he leaps down thestairs--won'erful dev
ilish-like--howling no bounds. He had scarce time tolay out for the nearest than they ran. Saints, how they ran! We heard thempound on the door of the Bell Tavern, and then we ran too.

  '"What's next?" says Sebastian, looping up his cow-tail as he leaped thebriars. "I've broke honest John's face."

  '"Ride to Sir John Pelham's," I said. "He is the only one that ever stoodby me."

  'We rode to Brightling, and past Sir John's lodges, where the keeperswould have shot at us for deer-stealers, and we had Sir John down into hisJustice's chair, and when we had told him our tale and showed him thecow-hide which Sebastian wore still girt about him, he laughed till thetears ran.

  '"Wel-a-well!" he says. "I'll see justice done before daylight. What'syour complaint? Master Collins is my old friend."

  '"He's none of mine," I cried. "When I think how he and his likes havebaulked and dozened and cozened me at every turn over the church"----and Ichoked at the thought.

  '"Ah, but ye see now they needed it for another use," says he, smoothly.

  '"So they did my serpentines," Sebastian cries. "I should be half acrossthe Western Ocean by this if my guns had been ready. But they're sold to aScotch pirate by your old friend."

  '"Where's your proof?" says Sir John, stroking his beard.

  '"I broke my shins over them not an hour since, and I heard John giveorder where they were to be taken," says Sebastian.

  '"Words! Words only," says Sir John. "Master Collins is somewhat of a liarat best."

  'He carried it so gravely, that for the moment, I thought he was dipped inthis secret traffick too, and that there was not an honest ironmaster inSussex.

  '"Name o' Reason!" says Sebastian, and raps with his cow-tail on thetable, "Whose guns are they, then?"

  '"Yours, manifestly," says Sir John. "You come with the King's Order for'em, and Master Collins casts them in his foundry. If he chooses to bringthem up from Nether Forge and lay 'em out in the church tower, why theyare e'en so much the nearer to the main road and you are saved a day'shauling. What a coil to make of a mere act of neighbourly kindness, lad!"

  '"I fear I have requited him very scurvily," says Sebastian, looking athis knuckles. "But what of the demi-cannon? I could do with 'em well, but_they_ are not in the King's Order."

  '"Kindness--loving-kindness," says Sir John. "Questionless, in his zeal forthe King and his love for you, John adds those two cannon as a gift. 'Tisplain as this coming daylight, ye stockfish!"

  '"So it is," says Sebastian. "Oh, Sir John, Sir John, why did you neveruse the sea? You are lost ashore." And he looked on him with great love.

  '"I do my best in my station." Sir John strokes his beard again and rollsforth his deep drumming Justice's voice thus:--"But--suffer me!--you twolads, on some midnight frolic into which I probe not, roystering aroundthe taverns, surprise Master Collins at his"--he thinks a moment--"at hisgood deeds done by stealth. Ye surprise him, I say, cruelly."

  '"Truth, Sir John. If you had seen him run!" says Sebastian.

  '"On this you ride breakneck to me with a tale of pirates, and wool-wains,and cow-hides, which, though it hath moved my mirth as a man, offendeth myreason as a magistrate. So I will e'en accompany you back to the towerwith, perhaps, some few of my own people, and three to four wagons, andI'll be your warrant that Master John Collins will freely give you yourguns and your demi-cannon, Master Sebastian." He breaks into his propervoice--"I warned the old tod and his neighbours long ago that they'd cometo trouble with their side-sellings and bye-dealings; but we cannot havehalf Sussex hanged for a little gun-running. Are ye content, lads?"

  '"I'd commit any treason for two demi-cannon," said Sebastian, and rubshis hands.

  '"Ye have just compounded with rank treason-felony for the same bribe,"says Sir John. "Wherefore to horse, and get the guns."'

  'But Master Collins meant the guns for Sir Andrew Barton all along, didn'the?' said Dan.

  'Questionless, that he did,' said Hal. 'But he lost them. We poured intothe village on the red edge of dawn, Sir John horsed, in half-armour, hispennon flying; behind him thirty stout Brightling knaves, five abreast;behind them four wool-wains, and behind them four trumpets to triumph overthe jest, blowing: _Our King went forth to Normandie_. When we halted androlled the ringing guns out of the tower, 'twas for all the world likeFriar Roger's picture of the French siege in the Queen's Missal-book.'

  'And what did we--I mean, what did our village do?' said Dan.

  'Oh! Bore it nobly--nobly,' cried Hal. 'Though they had tricked me, I wasproud of us. They came out of their housen, looked at that little army asthough it had been a post, and went their shut-mouthed way. Never a sign!Never a word! They'd ha' perished sooner than let Brightling overcrow us.Even that villain, Ticehurst Will, coming out of the Bell for his morningale, he all but ran under Sir John's horse.

  '"Ware, Sirrah Devil!" cries Sir John, reining back.

  '"Oh!" says Will. "Market day, is it? And all the bullocks from Brightlinghere?"

  'I spared him his belting for that--the brazen knave!

  'But John Collins was our masterpiece! He happened along-street (his jawtied up where Sebastian had clouted him) when we were trundling the firstdemi-cannon through the lych-gate.

  '"I reckon you'll find her middlin' heavy," he says. "If you've a mind topay, I'll loan ye my timber-tug. She won't lie easy on ary wool-wain."

  'That was the one time I ever saw Sebastian taken flat aback. He openedand shut his mouth, fishy-like.

  '"No offence," says Master John. "You've got her reasonable good cheap. Ithought ye might not grudge me a groat if I help move her." Ah, he was amasterpiece! They say that morning's work cost our John two hundredpounds, and he never winked an eyelid, not even when he saw the guns allcarted off to Lewes.'

  'Neither then nor later?' said Puck.

  'Once. 'Twas after he gave St. Barnabas the new chime of bells. (Oh, therewas nothing the Collinses, or the Hayes, or the Fowles, or the Fannerswould not do for the church then! "Ask and have" was their song.) We hadrung 'em in, and he was in the tower with Black Nick Fowle, that gave usour rood-screen. The old man pinches the bell-rope one hand and scratcheshis neck with t'other. "Sooner she was pulling yon clapper than my neck,"he says. That was all! That was Sussex--seely Sussex for everlastin'!'

  'And what happened after?' said Una.

  'I went back into England,' said Hal, slowly. 'I'd had my lesson againstpride. But they tell me I left St. Barnabas's a jewel--just about a jewel!Wel-a-well! 'Twas done for and among my own people, and--Father Roger wasright--I never knew such trouble or such triumph since. That's the natureo' things. A dear--dear land.' He dropped his chin on his chest.

  'There's your Father at the Forge. What's he talking to old Hobden about?'said Puck, opening his hand with three leaves in it.

  Dan looked towards the cottage.

  'Oh, I know. It's that old oak lying across the brook. Pater always wantsit grubbed.'

  In the still valley they could hear old Hobden's deep tones.

  'Have it _as_ you've a mind to,' he was saying. 'But the vivers of herroots they hold the bank together. If you grub her out, the bank she'llall come tearin' down, an' next floods the brook'll swarve up. But have it_as_ you've a mind. The mistuss she sets a heap by the ferns on hertrunk.'

  'Oh! I'll think it over,' said the Pater.

  Una laughed a little bubbling chuckle.

  'What Devil's in _that_ belfry?' said Hal, with a lazy laugh. 'That shouldbe Hobden by his voice.'

  'Why, the oak is the regular bridge for all the rabbits between the ThreeAcre and our meadow. The best place for wires on the farm, Hobden says.He's got two there now,' Una answered. '_He_ won't ever let it begrubbed!'

  'Ah, Sussex! Silly Sussex for everlastin',' murmured Hal; and the nextmoment their Father's voice calling across to Little Lindens broke thespell as St. Barnabas's clock struck five.