Sir Ralph and his family had been for some time settled at Texford, when
the dame brought the news, gained from her usual source of information,
Mr Groocock, that Mr Harry with another officer were daily expected at
the hall.
"Mr Groocock says that Mr Harry has done all sorts of brave things,
and that he will be captain himself before long," observed the dame to
her husband and May, who had just then come in from Downside to pay her
a visit. "It seems but the other day that he was a young midshipman,
and now to think that he is old enough to be captain of a big ship,
though he cannot be _very_ old either."
"I have known captains of nineteen," observed Adam; "and though they had
not much experience, when it came to real work they did it as well as
their elders and better than many. It's not so much what age a man is
as what is in him, and that will show itself even though he has not got
a hair on his lip."
"Mr Groocock says there are to be grand doings at the hall in honour of
Mr Harry's return from sea," continued the dame. "All the tenantry are
to be invited, and the labourers and tradesmen and workpeople from
Morbury, and the fishermen too from Hurlston; and he made me promise to
come and to bring my daughter, for he always calls you my daughter, May,
and seems to forget what I once told him, for I am sure I did tell him
all about you, though in truth you are my daughter, if a mother's love
can make you one."
"I trust that I always shall enjoy that love," said May, taking the
dame's hand. "I think I should like to go with you to Texford if the
ladies do not object, for they certainly will not go. Miss Mary would
not like the crowd, which I suppose there will be, and indeed it is
possible that they may not quite approve of such proceedings; besides
which, Sir Ralph and Lady Castleton have never asked them to the hall
since they took possession, though her ladyship once called at Downside
and left her card, but when Miss Jane returned the visit she was not
admitted, and has not felt disposed to call again."
"But the ladies must remember Mr Harry, as they were staying with Sir
Reginald when he was last there, and Mr Groocock says that he was as
great a favourite with them as he was with everybody, so perhaps for the
sake of seeing him, if they are asked, they may be persuaded to go,"
remarked the dame.
"Not if they consider it wrong to give such a fete," answered May. "I
am uncertain of the opinion they will form. I cannot myself think it
wrong to afford amusement to a number of people from whom they cannot
expect to receive the slightest benefit in return."
"Well, if you don't go with the ladies, May, I hope you will come with
me. I should have little pleasure by myself; if I was to see you liking
it I should be pleased also. You need not go and dance in the crowd. I
should not wish to see you do that, even if you were really my daughter;
but as you are a young lady, and there is no doubt about that, it would
not be proper for you to mix with any but young ladies, and that,
perhaps as you would not know any of those present, you would not wish
to do."
"No, indeed," answered May. "It is strange that I should never in my
life have spoken to a young lady, and I have no notion, except from the
descriptions given in Miss Burney's novels, of the way young ladies in
general behave, or speak, or think. I should be terribly afraid of them
if they are like some of the heroines whose histories I have met with in
`Evelina and Cecilia,' which I have read to Miss Mary, and in a new
story she has lately had sent to her, called `Camilla,' but I have not
finished it yet."
"I don't know what sort of young ladies are put into books; but you need
not be at all afraid of anyone, May, I am sure of that," observed the
dame. "I have known several young ladies in my time. There was poor
Miss Ellen Castleton, and three very nice girls who all married well at
another house where I was in service, and they could not have held a
candle to you, that they couldn't; but I must not say that for fear of
making you vain, my dear. Just do you feel what is true, that you are
equal to any of them and that will make you comfortable and at home.
However, as Mr Harry has not come home and the day is not yet fixed,
there will be time to talk about it; only if the ladies say anything
just tell them that I should be so much obliged if they would let you
go, and that I will take good care of you, and you shall come to no harm
or do anything they won't like."
May gladly promised, for she felt curious to see Texford, since she had
only a very faint recollection of the place.
As evening was approaching she wished her foster-parents good-bye. Just
as she left the house Jacob came up from the boat. She greeted him in
her usual unaffected way, but he seemed even less at his ease than he
had been of late when he met her.
"Brother Jacob," said May, "I am so glad you are come. I wanted to ask
you to collect me some shells, as many as you can find time to gather;
not all winkles and cockles, remember, but as great a variety as
possible. The ladies have a fancy for making a grotto in the garden,
and I have undertaken to adorn the inside with shapes of all sorts of
strange creatures to be formed with the shells. They will, I am sure,
gladly pay you for your trouble, and I shall be much obliged to you if
you can get them as soon as possible."
"If it's to please you, Miss May, I will do it with all my heart, and I
want no payment," answered Jacob, his strong manly voice trembling more
than he was aware of. Jacob was now a fine specimen of a stout young
sailor.
"What has come over you, Jacob?" exclaimed May, with a look of surprise,
yet laughing as she spoke. "I never heard you call me Miss May before.
I hope you are not offended at my saying that the ladies would pay you;
they would not think it fair to employ your time without some
recompense."
"But if it's for you, I want no pay, and cannot take it," said Jacob,
his voice softening as he spoke. "I will get the shells, that I will
gladly, as many basketfuls as you may want; only tell me when I bring
them if there are not enough, and I will get more."
"Thank you, Jacob, I am sure you will," said May, and without further
noticing his peculiar manner she tripped lightly away on her homeward
road.
Jacob stood gazing at her with his hand on the door till she was out of
sight. He then, instead of entering the cottage as he had previously
intended, made his way in the direction she had gone.
May continued her walk towards Downside. Having stopped at the cottage
of an old woman (one of the many the Miss Pembertons were in the habit
of visiting) to enquire whether she had got over her last attack of
rheumatics, May, as she turned round, caught sight of Jacob in the
distance. It was not the first time she had discovered him following
her, but she knew him too well not to believe that he had some good
motive for so doing.
"Mother has not got over her fear of that man Miles Gaffin, and sends
Jacob to watch that he does not run off with me, as she used to fancy he
would do when I was a little girl," she said to herself.
The old dame assured her that she was much better for the stuff Miss
Jane had sent, when May, as she wished her good-bye, looked back once
more, but Jacob had disappeared. She therefore continued her walk,
taking little further thought of him. Once, however, as she happened to
turn her head for a moment, she fancied that she saw him, but he again
disappeared round a corner.
She was still some way from Downside when, on a part of the road where
there were no cottages in sight, she observed a young man leaning
against a gate at some little distance in front. He was dressed in the
fashionable costume of the day--a green riding coat and top-boots, with
a huge frill to his shirt, while his hat was set rakishly on one side.
Though his features were not bad his countenance had a coarse unpleasant
expression, and notwithstanding the dress he wore his appearance was not
that of a gentleman.
On seeing May he started forward and advanced towards her. Making her a
bow as he approached, he said--
"Highly pleased, Miss, to meet you. I have been on the look-out for the
last two hours. I thought you were not coming."
May did not reply, but moved on.
The young buck, however, was not to be daunted.
"Saw you at church last Sunday, and thought you had seen me; but I
suppose you were attending to the parson, or your eyes were on the
prayer-book."
May, wondering who this intruder could be, and beginning to feel
excessively annoyed at his impertinence, walked on as fast as she could.
As he spoke of having seen her at church, she recollected remarking in a
pew at some distance a youth who appeared to be staring at her.
"I fancy you must be under some mistake in addressing me," she said at
last. "I am residing with the Miss Pembertons, and wish to have no
acquaintances unless introduced to me by them."
"No, Miss, I do assure you that I am under no mistake whatever,"
answered the youth, in a tone of assurance. "I have not the honour of
being acquainted with the old ladies, but I have great respect for them
on account of the care they take of you. They are not likely to be
acquainted with a young buck like me, though they cannot object to your
being so, and I would only ask you to give me the favour of seeing you
safe home."
"Thank you, sir, I am very well acquainted with the road and require no
one to accompany me," said Mary, assuming as composed and dignified an
air as she could put on. She, however, unaccustomed to assume any
manner besides her own natural one, did not succeed much to her
satisfaction. Her annoyance was greatly increased when, notwithstanding
her remarks, the youth persevered in walking by her side. She now began
to regret that she had not invited Jacob to accompany her, for she was
very sure that no one would have ventured to have spoken to her thus had
he been her attendant. She instinctively looked round in the hopes that
he might still be following, but she could not see him. She therefore
went on, trusting that her silence would induce the impertinent stranger
to allow her to proceed alone.
"Ah, Miss, though you don't seem to know me I have known you for all
your life nearly. I am young Miles Gaffin, and I remember when you were
a little girl living with old Halliburt and his wife, and I often saw
you when I came home for the holidays, though I have been now long away
from Hurlston studying the law, in which I hope to make a figure some
day. A fine profession for making money, and the only way to make a
figure in the world is to get that, in my opinion," and he laughed at
his own intended wit.
Still May kept on her way in silence.
"Can this person be a son of that dreadful man Gaffin?" she thought.
"If the stories about the miller are true it is the sort of conduct to
be expected from a son of his."
She felt that her best course was not to speak to the youth whatever he
might say.
He continued walking by her side, beating his boot with his riding whip.
At length he began to grow impatient at her silence.
"You have got a voice I know, for I heard it sound very sweetly just
now. Can't you use it just to say something? It's not pleasant when a
person speaks to a young lady not to have a word in return."
Still May was firm in her determination not to speak. The youth,
probably unaccustomed to such treatment from the young women he usually
associated with, entirely lost patience.
"Come, come, Miss, let's be friends! Though you do live with the Miss
Pembertons, there's no reason you should look down upon a young man who
is in a respectable position, and would make you an independent lady if
you would let him."
As he spoke he tried to seize her hand, and put his other arm round to
draw her towards him. She started back to escape his touch, and as she
did so, looking over her shoulder, she saw Jacob following in the
distance. She turned and flew towards him faster than she had ever run
in her life. Jacob hastened to meet her. She took his arm panting and
scarcely able to speak as she told him the insult to which she had been
subjected.
"I saw some one walking alongside you, and thought it wasn't by your
wish, but couldn't tell, you see, though I ought to have known better.
But the impudent fellow shall rue it, that he shall. I'll serve him as
I would a conger!" exclaimed Jacob. "Let me be after him now--I'll
catch him before he has got far, and I'll warrant he shall never speak
to you again."
"Oh, no, no! pray do not, Jacob," said May, leaning on his arm to
support herself. She was more agitated than she could have supposed.
"Let him alone, whoever he is, though I suspect from what he said that
he is a son of Miles Gaffin. It will be only necessary, I hope, to warn
him not to behave again as he has done; and as I shall tell Miss
Pemberton, she will probably speak to him, and that will be sufficient."
"If the audacious young scoundrel is Miles Gaffin's son, and he is like
his father, he will care neither what Miss Pemberton nor any other lady
says to him," exclaimed Jacob, doubling his fist, while his eye assumed
a fierce expression it seldom wore. "He will care what this says to him
though, and I'll make it speak in a way he won't like, that I will. But
don't you be afraid, there is no harm will come of it. How he should
have dared to speak to you is more than I can tell; but I will find out
if he has a tongue to answer me, and it will be the last time he'll try
it."
Had young Gaffin heard Jacob, and seen his brawny arm and huge fist, he
would have had no inclination to fall in with him; but feeling that it
would be wise not to encounter the sturdy protector to whom May had
appealed, he had, after pursuing her a few steps, leaped over a gate and
run into a wood, which concealed him from sight. It is possible that,
from his place of concealment, he might have observed May leaning on
Jacob's arm as they proceeded towards Downside.
"Thank you, Jacob, for your kindly succour," she said when they reached
the door. "You will come in and see the ladies, for they will wish to
thank you as I do."
"Oh, May, you don't fancy that there is any need of thanking me--no, not
even if I had saved your life, for that would have made me happier than
I can tell you," answered Jacob, with a half reproachful look. "As to
that villain, I will find him out, and then I'll come and tell the
ladies how I have served him."
"I must again entreat you not to use any violence," said May. "It will
be quite sufficient if you can learn who he is, that I may be protected
from his insults, but for no other reason do I even wish to ascertain
his name."
While they were speaking, Miss Jane, who had heard their voices, came
out, and May hurriedly told her what had occurred.
"May has spoken very properly to you, Jacob," she said. "Do no more
than she has advised."
Jacob's countenance assumed a more dogged look than May had ever seen it
wear, and, unwilling to receive more of Miss Jane's stem exhortations,
or May's milder entreaties, he wished them good evening, and casting a
look expressive of his devotion at May, hurried away.
As May was able to identify the youth who had spoken to her with the
young man who had appeared at church on the previous Sunday, Miss Jane,
with her usual sagacity, ascertained that he was staying at the Texford
Arms, and that Miles Gaffin, the miller had met him on his arrival. It
was supposed that he was the eldest son of that person.
"I fear there will be but little use complaining to the father,"
observed Miss Jane; "but it will be more prudent, my dear May, for you
to confine your walks to the grounds till he has left the place, unless
you accompany Mary or me. Jacob will undoubtedly let his parents know
what has occurred, and we shall, probably have the dame up here to make
enquiries. I will then tell her not to expect a visit from you till you
are no longer likely to be subjected to the same annoyance."
May agreed to the wisdom of this proposal; indeed she would have been
very unwilling to venture beyond the grounds by herself.