JIM'S RELAPSE
Jim made progress at the dyke until it began to rain. For some weeks a
strong west wind drove dark clouds across the sea, the hills were
wrapped in mist, the creeks swelled and the tides rose high. Floods
spread about the marsh and the floundering teams could hardly drag
their loads through the bog. Sometimes Jim felt anxious, for the
undertaking threatened to cost much more than he had thought.
Then came two fine days when, although the sun shone, heavy clouds
rolled about the hills. Jim, knowing the fine weather would not last,
drove his men hard, since there was work he must push forward before
the next flood. The new bank had reached a creek where he must build a
strong sluice-gate and hold back the water by a rude coffer-dam while
he dug for the foundation.
He came up from the dam one afternoon and stood on the slope of the
bank, looking down into the hole. His long boots, shirt, and trousers
were stained by mud that had also splashed his face and hands; for
since the work was risky he had helped the men. Now he was rather
highly-strung. Below him, the water spirited [Transcriber's note:
spurted?] through the joints in a wall of thick planks and ran into the
excavation, where a few men, sunk nearly to the knees in mud, were
working. A forge stood on the top of the bank and the smith leaned on
the crank of the blower. He was a short, strongly-built man, and
looked sulky.
"There's too much water blowing through; pressure's heavier than I
reckoned and I don't like the way that brace sags," Jim remarked, as a
shower of mud and water fell into the hole. Then he shouted to the
men: "Get a thick plank across and wedge her up."
"Looks as if the fastenings of the brace had slipped," said Jake.
"They oughtn't to slip. The plate and nut on the iron were meant to
keep the beam in place."
"I don't think I saw a nut when the boys fixed the thing."
Jim beckoned the smith. Although the fellow was a good workman, he was
obstinate and Jim had not bothered him much until he needed some irons
for the dam, when he made careful sketches and insisted on the other's
working to his plans. This had caused some trouble and Jim now meant
to be firm.
"I reckon I told you to screw the ends of the bar and make nuts to turn
back against the plates," he said. "Did you screw the ends?"
"I did not," said the other. "There was nae use for nuts. I punched
hole for pin that wad stop her pulling oot."
"Pulling out!" Jim exclaimed. "Did you imagine I wanted to hold the
frames together?"
"If yon wasn't what you wanted, you should have said."
Jim had meant to be calm, but the men had run some risk from the
fellow's obstinacy, and he lost his control.
"I told you to screw the ends. Confound you! The dam's in
compression; there's no pull at all. Put a new bar in the vise and
I'll stand by while you cut the thread."
"Stan', if you like. I'll not touch bar while you're aboot. Are you
gan t' teach me my job?"
"It's plain you don't know your job. Get out of my way and I'll cut
the thread myself."
The smith stood square in front with a frown on his face. "You'll not
touch my tools. Vise and forge is yours; screwing stocks is mine."
"Oh, shucks!" said Jim. "Get out of the way. We want the bar right
now."
The smith did not move, and although nobody afterwards remembered how
the struggle began, Jake, interfering a moment too late, imagined Jim
tried to get past the smith and jostled him. They grappled, and while
they rocked to and fro the men in the pit stopped work. At first, Jim
would have been satisfied to throw his antagonist back, but after a
moment or two he doubted if this would be enough. The fellow had
defied him, they had begun to fight, and in Canada a boss who could not
enforce his authority lost his right to rule. Jim imagined it was so
in England and did not mean to stop until the smith was ready to
submit. Yet the fellow was powerful and fought with dogged pluck.
While they floundered about, striking, and trying for a throwing hold,
Jake heard steps and looked up. He was half-embarrassed and
half-amused, for it was obvious Jim did not know Mrs. Halliday, Evelyn,
and Bernard Dearham stood on the top of the bank. He could not
separate the men and did not think Jim would hear if he shouted;
besides, to shout a warning would make the thing ridiculous.
There was nothing to do but wait, and after a few moments Jim lifted
his antagonist and threw him down the bank. It looked as if the sulky
smith was not a favorite, for some of the men laughed and some growled
hoarse applause. Jim's muddy shirt was torn and his face was bruised;
he was looking down into the hole and did not see Bernard's party until
he turned to go to the forge. Then he stopped and stood with his head
held back, while Jake studied the others. He thought Bernard was
quietly amused, but Mrs. Halliday looked pained, and Evelyn's delicate
face was flushed.
"We thought we would come to see how you were getting on," said Mrs.
Halliday. "It was an adventure; your new road is very bad and the car
nearly upset."
"There is not much to see and I did not expect you," Jim replied.
"That is obvious," Bernard remarked with a twinkle. "I imagine you
don't know much about Cumberland wrestling, but you are very quick.
When you threw him, the other fellow was getting a hold that would have
put you in his power."
"You gave him a bad fall, anyhow. I suppose you are used to this sort
of thing in Canada," said Mordaunt, who came from behind the others and
glanced at Evelyn.
Jake was interested; he sensed something of a drama, of which he
thought his comrade was unconscious. There was a hint of a sneer in
Mordaunt's voice and Jake thought his remark was meant for the girl.
Her eyes were fixed on Jim, and she looked disturbed. It was plain
that Mordaunt noted this. Mrs. Halliday was rather ostentatiously
careless, Bernard quietly looked on, but Jim gave no sign of
embarrassment.
"Why, no," he answered Mordaunt. "On the whole, I didn't have much
trouble with the boys in Canada. This fellow wouldn't do his job as I
wanted, and through his stupidity we ran some risk of the dam's caving
in. I'll show you----"
They went with him, glad of something to banish the strain, and he
indicated the men working in the mud behind the wall of planks.
"If the timbering gave way, the water would break through and perhaps
drown the gang. I'm boss and accountable. I take no chances about the
safety of my men."
Mordaunt smiled as he glanced at Evelyn and Jake imagined he knew what
the smile implied. Jim was breaking conventions, his bold statement
had a theatrical touch that no doubt jarred; reserved Englishmen did
not talk like that. Moreover, he was wet and muddy, and his tense pose
had not relaxed. Standing with head held back and body highly-strung,
he looked a stranger. Jim did not belong to the others' circle, he
came from outside.
"Yours is a good rule and force is useful now and then," Bernard
observed. "However, we came to take you to Dryholm. I was feeling
dull, and the others have promised to help me through the evening. If
you can come, we will go on to Langrigg for Mrs. Winter."
Jim wanted to go, because Evelyn was going, but he gave her an
apologetic glance as he answered Bernard: "I'm sorry; I can't leave my
job."
Evelyn said nothing, although her color was rather high, and Mrs.
Halliday interposed: "After all, you would not lose much time. It will
soon be dark."
"Dark generally comes before one's ready, but I have some plans to make
for the morning when I get home," said Jim, who turned to Bernard. "We
must push on before the water gets too high. If you wouldn't mind
taking Mrs. Winter and Carrie, I think they'd like it."
Mrs. Halliday's look hinted that she was trying to hide her annoyance
and Evelyn turned her head.
"Very well," said Bernard and beckoned the others.
When they had gone Jake laughed. "I imagine you have given your
relations a jolt."
"I felt something like that. I didn't mean to jolt them," Jim said
with a frown. "Why didn't they come a few minutes earlier, or later?"
"I wasn't altogether thinking of your throwing the smith down the bank.
You have got rather English, but sometimes you break away; I think I
mean break back."
"Perhaps that is so; I forget," Jim agreed. "I was a miner and
linesman before I was a landlord."
"Confusing for your friends, isn't it? They don't know which they have
to reckon on--the Canadian sourdough or the country gentleman. Anyhow,
I expect your suggestion that they should take mother and Carrie didn't
help much. Were you talking like a sourdough or an English landlord
then?"
"You have a confoundedly mischievous humor," Jim rejoined, with a
twinkle. "Do you want me to state that it's a country gentleman's duty
to insist on the proper acknowledgment of his guests? Bernard likes
your people and I don't know if Mrs. Halliday and Lance Mordaunt count."
"I was not thinking about Mrs. Halliday----" Jake began, but stopped
when his comrade looked hard at him, and a few moments afterwards the
smith came up the bank.
"Well?" said Jim, sharply. "What do you want?"
"Noo I see how bar's meant to gan, mayhappen it wad be better screwed.
If you'll wait while I gan for dies, I'll do't for you."
"All right. You can get busy," said Jim.
When the smith went off he smiled and remarked: "I don't know if I
expected this, but the man will make no more trouble. However, we have
lost some time and must push ahead."
They got to work, and in the meantime Bernard drove to Langrigg and
picked up Mrs. Winter and Carrie. The party at Dryholm broke up soon,
but when Evelyn returned to Whitelees she felt that the evening had
been too long. For one thing, she had been kept occupied and she
wanted to think. Now she sat, rather languidly, in an easy-chair and
knitted her brows. She had got a jar in the afternoon and she tried to
recapture the scene on the bank--the smith scowling at the bottom, and
Jim's bruised face, savage frown, and muddy clothes.
Jim was a new type, and she admitted that he attracted her, but his
attraction was largely physical and sometimes she felt repelled. He
was handsome and forceful; she liked his steady look, his athletic
figure, and his clean brown skin. Then she liked the respect he showed
her and his obvious wish to please. This was flattering and his
strength and candor made an appeal, but she was highly cultivated and
he was not rude. Indeed, when he stood on the bank, hot and triumphant
after the fight, there was something barbarous about him. His virility
moved her, but to live with him would demand some pluck; Evelyn knew he
could not, so to speak, be tamed. His refusal to come to Dryholm, when
he knew she was going, was a proof. It was significant that the dam he
was building made a stronger claim. Evelyn was drawn in different ways
and, on the whole, it was a relief when Mrs. Halliday came in.
"Jim was not his best this afternoon," the latter said. "However, he
has not been long in England and no doubt the risk of such outbreaks
will presently vanish. In the meantime one must make some allowances."
"For the owner of Langrigg?"
"Oh, well," said Mrs. Halliday, "I suppose I did mean this, but perhaps
not altogether in the way you think. There is a rude vein in the
Dearhams that comes to the surface now and then. One hardly noted it
in Joseph, but in Bernard it's rather marked. I imagine he has some
sympathy for Jim's extravagances. This may have its influence."
"Bernard is inscrutable," Evelyn rejoined. "One cannot foretell what
he will do."
Mrs. Halliday saw that Evelyn understood; she had, in fact, expected
her to understand, and her voice was thoughtful as she resumed: "After
all, his approval is not essential. You have some money; I do not know
about Jim, but he is spending much."
"It may be all he has; he is not afraid of a risk," said Evelyn, with a
touch of color, for she was fastidious and her mother was blunt.
Then for a moment or two she mused. She was afraid of a risk; this was
the trouble. Adventure, romance, and to some extent passion urged, but
caution deterred. The romance would vanish and Jim might jar.
"Langrigg gives its owner a firm position," Mrs. Halliday resumed.
"Even if he were poor, his wife would take a leading place in the Holm
country. People pretend to scoff at such things, but they count."
"Much would depend on the owner. If he broke the family traditions,
defied our conventions, and made himself a joke----"
"Much would be forgiven him because he is a Dearham," Mrs. Halliday
rejoined. "Still, of course, there is a limit and I see a risk. Jim
needs guidance for a time and it's possible his Canadian friends
encourage his un-English idiosyncrasies. The girl has some beauty; I
would sooner she did not stay long. If Jim could be advised----"
Evelyn smiled. "I cannot advise him. Besides, he's very staunch and
owes these people much."
"Oh, well," said Mrs. Halliday. "In such a matter, one cannot meddle
unless it is certain one's advice would be well received. We must let
it go. Perhaps the Winters do not mean to remain very long."
"I think Jake means to stay until the marsh is drained, and I don't
suppose the others will go until he is ready."
Mrs. Halliday frowned. "Jim is rather annoying. Sometimes he vexes
me, but in a sense it is our duty to protect him. It has been a
disturbing day; I think I'll go to bed."