This turn in our affairs was a nine days' wonder in Shrewsbury. And
whether it was that some chord of sympathy was touched in our
townsfolk, or that Mr. Vetch worsted his only rival, Mr. Moggridge,
in a case of breach of covenant that was tried at the next assizes,
I know not; but certain it is that my friend's business took a leap
upward from that very time. Clients flocked to him; he soon had to
employ an additional clerk; and Mistress Pennyquick, who was twice
as tyrannical as before on the strength of her extra two pounds a
year, declared privately to me one day that she wished for nothing
now but that she might live to see me a partner with Mr. Vetch, in
a house of my own, with a sensible wife and five pretty children.
But I have come to believe that as an Ethiopian can not change his
skin, nor a leopard his spots, so a man can not alter the bent of
mind he was born with, nor follow any course with success but the
one to which his nature calls. I entered Mr. Vetch's office with
the best will in the world to please him, and to master the
principles of legal practice and procedure; but I found it hard to
reconcile myself to the atmosphere of a stuffy room filled with
musty tomes, and to the unvarying round of desk work--copying from
morning to night agreements, deeds and other documents bristling
with a jargon unintelligible to me.
I soon tired of freehold and copyhold tenure, of manorial rights
and customs, and the hundred and one legal fictions connected with
actions at law and bills in chancery that constitute the routine of
an attorney's profession. I yearned to breathe an ampler air; and
when one day I saw Dick Cludde, returned home on leave, strutting
past with Mytton and other boon companions, in all the bravery of
cocked hat, laced coat and buckled shoes, I flung down my pen and
donned my cap, and set off, with bitter rage and envy in my heart,
to pour out my soul to my constant friend, Captain Galsworthy.
"Halt!" cried the captain, when I was in the midst of a tirade.
"We'll have a bout."
And forthwith we donned the gloves, and for a full quarter of an
hour we sparred, he with the cool mastery that never deserted him,
I with a blind rage and fury which had its natural end. In the
third round I aimed a blow at my adversary's neck with my right
hand, but failing in my reach, he returned it full swing with his
left, and dealt me such a staggerer on my cheekbone that down I
went like a ninepin and measured my length on the floor.
"Capital!" says the captain, sitting down (the old fellow was
puffing not a little). "Capital! That was a settler, eh, my boy?
Now you can get up and talk sense."
I got up, rubbing my cheek, and grinning a rueful smile, as the
captain told me. We remained long in talk; never had my old friend
been wiser or more kindly. He listened to me with patience as I
told him--quietly, for he had fairly knocked my rage out of me--how
desperately sick I was of my occupation, and how I longed to
stretch my limbs and do something.
"I knew it, my boy," he said. "I had seen it coming. I understand
it. Haven't I been through it myself? I was bred for commerce: you
might as well have harnessed a pig. One day--I was younger than
you-I took French leave and a crown piece and trudged to London. I
enlisted in old Noll's army, shipped to Flanders and served under
Lockhart--he was a man, sir!--at the siege of Cambrai, deserted
when the campaign was at an end, and roamed over half Europe; took
service with the Emperor; fought with the Swedes against the Poles,
and the Poles against the Swedes; fell in with Patrick Gordon, and
was beguiled by him to Muscovy; and should have been with the Czar
Peter at this day if he hadn't called me a fool when he was sober;
we paid no heed to what he called us when he was drunk.
"Ah! I see your eyes glistening, you young dog. You were never born
to be tied up with red tape."
This brief account of his life, and he never told me more, had
indeed set my heart leaping. What would I not give, I thought, to
see what he had seen, and do what he had done!
"But now to be practical," said the captain. "You want to go: very
well, go. But you won't sneak off like Cyrus Vetch; you can't go
with a commission like young Cludde. How much money have you got?"
"A few guineas I have saved."
"Well, keep them; you may be in a tight place some day, and find
'em handy. You have a hankering for the sea, you say. Then tramp to
Bristowe, as your champion Joe Punchard did, and hitch on to John
Benbow if you can find him. He'll work you hard, if all that's said
about him is true; but he'll either make you or break you. That's
my advice."
Advice that jumps with one's own inclinations hath ever a
comfortable appearance of soundness. I told the captain that he had
hit on the very scheme I had proposed to myself, adding, however,
that I had thought to go a-horseback.
"A-horseback!" he cried. "What want you with a horse? You don't own
a horse, and to hire one you would expend all your guineas and have
nothing to feed either him or yourself. No, go on your shanks;
there's a world of knowledge to be gained by footing it on the open
road."
And so we settled that Captain Galsworthy should himself come to
our house on Pride Hill and break the news to my good friends
there. They were both downcast when they heard it, Mr. Vetch more
than Mistress Pennyquick, which somewhat surprised me. He plied me
with innumerable reasons for remaining with him, spoke of the long
miles I should have to trudge before I reached the port, described
the perils of the road, even foresaw that I should be arrested as a
vagrant and clapped into jail! He conjured up dismal pictures of
the seafaring life, and waxed quite eloquent in drawing a contrast
between the bare windswept deck and the cosy fireside, the dangers
from storm and pirates and the serenity of our quiet town. And then
the captain broke in upon his speech with a great laugh.
"Gad, Mr. Attorney, you have o'ershot your bolt," he cried. "Mark
you the sparkle in the boy's eyes and the catch in his breath? The
bogies you raise are beacons to him. D'you think to frighten him as
you would a girl? Spare your breath, man, to cool your porridge;
what fellow of spirit would be deterred from a life of action by
your vision of slippers and a basin of gruel?"
And indeed the lawyer's eloquence fell on deaf ears; or rather, as
the captain said, all his reasons did but whet my eagerness until I
fairly tingled with the imagined delight of matching myself against
the hostility of the elements and man. And so he at last desisted,
and gave a grudging compliance to my purpose; and Mistress
Pennyquick concluded the discussion with a shot at Captain
Galsworthy.
"This is all along o' you, Captain," she cried. "This is what comes
of teaching little boys to fight. I knew years ago 't'ud have a bad
end, and I told his poor father so, and I'm sure I hope you are
satisfied."
"Abundantly, ma'am," says the captain, bobbing her a bow. "My pupil
does me credit, and will do me more."
My preparations were soon made; indeed, I had nothing to prepare
save a few garments, which poor Becky blessed with a copious
baptism of tears. Then, one fine spring morning, when the buds on
tree and hedge were bursting and the air was full of song, I set
off on my long journey. Captain Galsworthy accompanied me for a few
miles on the road--across English Bridge, past our old farmhouse
(now held by a tenant of Sir Richard Cludde's), through the
beautiful vale of Severn, till at Cressage my way led me southward
from the river. Then he held me fast by the hand and looked me in
the face.
"God bless you, Humphrey," he said. "Live clean, and--and--hit
straight from the shoulder, my boy."
And then he turned away--not before I had seen a film of moisture
gather in his eyes.
Now I was fairly started on my travels--in a customary suit of
plain gray homespun, with worsted hose, knit for me by Mistress
Pennyquick, a pair of stout shoes, a round hat, and a stout staff
in my hand. I carried a few extra garments in a knapsack strapped
to my back, and my few guineas were safely stowed in a wallet
beneath my belt.
For a mile or two after leaving the captain I was in as black a fit
of the dumps as ever beset a man. I was but halfway through my
eighteenth year, and had as yet never gone more than ten miles from
my native town, nor slept a night away from home. 'Tis true, no
close ties of blood now bound me to Shrewsbury, but it held dear
memories and kind friends, and I felt a natural heart sickness at
thus cutting myself adrift from all and ranging forth alone into
the great unknown world. But healthy youth can not long lie under
such an oppression; my low spirits lasted just so long as it took
me to gain the crest of the hill towards Harley, and when I had
turned and taken a parting look behind--at the fields in their
fresh green, and the spires of Shrewsbury beyond, and the Severn
winding like a bright ribbon through the vale--when I had fed my
eyes on this charming scene, and breathed a prayer that in good
time I should behold it again, I set my face once more to the
south, and stepped briskly down the slope that hid my home from
sight and stood as the dividing line between my past and my future.
And as I trudged on between the bright hedgerows, and heard the
song of birds all about me, and felt the warm sunbeams on my face,
I began to exult in my youth and strength, and the words of a song
from one of my father's play books came to my mind, and I hummed
them aloud:
A merry heart goes all the day,
A sad tires in a mile a.
About half a mile out of Harley, the road makes a long ascent to
the market town of Much Wenlock. I was pretty warm by the time I
arrived there, and mighty hungry, so I repaired to the inn where my
father was wont to eat on market days, and where I had several
times been with him, and ordered a dinner of bread and cheese and
ale. The innkeeper, Mr. Appleby, was not a little surprised to see
me, and was fairly staggered when I told him I was off to Bristowe
to seek my fortune. To the stay-at-home folk of the countryside
Bristowe was as distant as Brazil, and he would have heard that I
was starting for the ends of the earth with but little more
amazement.
"Betsy," he called through the half-open door into the little
parlor behind, "here be young Master Bold a setting off to
Bristowe."
"Bless us!" cried his wife, bustling out, and bringing with her an
odor of roast meat that somewhat slacked my appetite for bread and
cheese. "Deary me! You doesn't say so now! Well, to be sure! 'Tis a
fearsome long way, by all accounts; but there, you be growed a
great big chap, Master Bold, and I'm sure I wish 'ee good luck.
Come away in, sir, dinner's just off the jack, and me and my man
'ud be main proud if you'd eat a morsel with us afore ye goes."
I was nothing loath, and found the roast of mutton a deal more to
my liking than the frugal fare I had ordered. I was still but
halfway through my second helping when there came through the door
a great clatter of hoofs from the street, and then a loud voice
crying "Appleby! here, sirrah, stir your stumps!" with an oath or
two by way of seasoning.
My host got up in a hurry and ran to the outer door, and I laid
down my knife and fork, and I think my cheeks must have gone a
trifle pale, for Mistress Appleby asked me anxiously what was
amiss. I hastened to reassure her, but begged her to close the door
into the inn place which her husband had left open. She wonderingly
complied, but was enlightened a moment afterwards, when she saw
Dick Cludde swagger in, followed by the two naval captains whom his
lady mother had been entertaining.
"I understand your feeling, sir," said the good wife. "'Tis a sin
and a shame ye lost the farm, which was yours by right; but doan't
'ee let 'em spoil your dinner; I can't abear mutton half, cold."
A more important matter, however, than the cooling of my mutton was
troubling me. I had heard Cludde call for wine and dice, from which
it was clear that he did not intend to leave yet awhile. There was
no way out except by going through the inn taproom, and I was not
inclined to face Dick Cludde there, for he would of a certainty
make some sneering or belittling remark, and my temper being not of
the meekest I feared things might come to a brawl. Not that I cared
a fig's end for Cludde, or feared any ill result from a personal
encounter; but I knew the inn was a property of Sir Richard's, who
would speedily find a new tenant if Dick got a broken head there.
There was nothing for it but to stay where I was, and bear with
what patience I might the interruption to my scarcely begun
journey. So I sat in my chair, and even through the closed door
could hear the loud voices of the naval men and the rattle of the
dice on the board. They called often for more wine, and grew more
and more boisterous as their potations lengthened, giving me a hope
that they would by and by be so fuddled as to make it possible for
me to escape unrecognized. But this hope was soon dashed.
"Let's have another bottle!" cried one of the three; his speech was
very thick. "Let's have another."
"No, no," said another. "You've had enough, Kirkby; and Cludde
there is half asleep already."
"Ads bobs, Walton," returned the man addressed as Kirkby, "are you
growing like Benbow? No wine, no gentlemen! What's things comm' to,
I say, when a fellow like Benbow, no gentleman"--(he pronounced it
"gemman")--"flies his flag on a king's ship!"
And then, being perfectly tipsy, he launched out into violent abuse
of Joe Punchard's captain, who was, it is true, a rough and ready
seaman, and, I must own, somewhat uncouth in his manners. From his
words I learned that Kirkby had been a lieutenant on Benbow's ship,
and was deeply incensed that any one who was not a "gemman" should
have had the right to give him orders. For a full half hour he
inveighed against that brave man, the head and front of whose
offense appeared to be that he rated bravery more highly than
blood, and seamanship than breeding, and often took sides with the
tars against their officers.
"Why, what d'ye think of this now?" cried Kirkby. "'Twas on
Portsmouth Hard, and a dirty old apple woman shoved her basket
under my nose and begged me to buy, and wouldn't be denied, and
followed me whining up the road, and out of all patience I turns
round and tips up her basket, and all the apples roll into the mud.
A tar who was smoking against the wall says something under his
breath and begins to gather up the apples. 'Leave that, sirrah!'
says I. He begs my pardon and goes on as before.
"I up with my cane and was laying on for his insolence when Benbow
roars out ('twas under the window of his inn) 'What be you a-doin'
of?' That's how he speaks. 'What be you a-doin' of?' says he.
"'I'm a-teachin' of him manners,' says I.
"'I'll teach you manners,' he roars, and orders me back to my ship,
and humiliates a gemman before a lout with hair as red as fire and
legs that made a circle."
"Why, sure 'twas Joe Punchard," cries Cludde, "a fellow that near
killed a friend o' mine," and he breaks into the old School
distich--
"O, pi, rho, bandy-legged Joe,
Turnip and carrots wherever you go."
and the others screamed with maudlin laughter.
"I know who was the gemman," whispers Mistress Appleby, who had
heard it all.
Shortly afterwards, being in high good humor after vindicating
their quality as gentlemen, the three called for their reckoning
and went round to the stables to see to their horses. I seized the
opportunity to make my escape, taking leave very heartily of my
kind host and hostess. I was not sorry to get upon the road again,
having purposed to cover at least twenty-five or thirty miles
before night. It was downhill now, and I was swinging along at a
good pace when I heard horses behind me and saw, with annoyance,
that I might not escape unnoticed, after all. Cludde and his
companions were cantering down the hill, at the risk of mishap, for
naval officers are notoriously bad horsemen, and one of them--
Kirkby, I doubt not--was swaying in his saddle. I stepped down to
the side of a brook which skirted the road, hoping they would pass
me by; but my lanky body was not one to escape remark, and Kirkby
himself as he came up threw a jest at my height. Cludde gave me a
glance, and a malicious smile sat upon his face.
"Poor beggar!" he said in an undertone, but loud enough for me to
hear, and he flung me a coin, which struck my arm and rolled to the
brink of the brook. In a trice I was up the bank, hot with a mad
rage to come to grips with the fellow. But he had anticipated the
movement, and setting spurs to his horse was beyond my reach. I
disdained to pursue him; indeed it would have been vain; I could
but stomach the affront. But I was not yet seasoned to petty
slights, and in my bitterness of spirit I sat down on the grassy
bank and for a while gave the rein to my feelings, brooding moodily
on my wrongs. Then I chanced to spy the coin which he had flung to
me as a man might fling a bone to a dog. I picked it up: it was a
crown piece. For a moment I was tempted to pitch it into the brook;
but on a sudden impulse I bestowed it in a little inner pocket
apart from the rest of my money.
"There it is, Dick Cludde," I muttered between my teeth, "and there
it shall remain until the day when I return it you, with interest."
After that I felt more composed, and walked on with a lightened
heart.