"Will you go up the river for a row, Johnny?"
"I don't mind if I do."
The questioner was Bill Whitney; who had come in to look for Tod. I had
nothing particular on hand that afternoon, and the skies were blue and
the sun golden. So we went down to the river together.
"Where has Tod got to?" he asked.
"Goodness knows. I've not seen him since lecture this morning."
We rowed up to Godstowe. Bill disappeared with some friend of his from
Merton's, who had watched us put in. I strolled about. Every one knows
the dark pool of water there. On the bench under the foliage, so thick
in summer, but bare yet in this early season, warm and sunny though it
was, sat a man wrapped in a great-coat, whom I took at first to be
a skeleton with painted cheeks. But one does not care to stare at
skeletons, knowing they'd help their looks if they could; and I was
passing him with my face turned the other way.
"Good-afternoon, sir."
I turned at the hollow words--hollow in sound as though they came out
of a drum. It was Charley: the red paint on his thin cheeks was nothing
but natural hectic, and the blue of his eyes shone painfully bright.
"Why, what's the matter, Charley?"
"A fly-man, who had to drive here and back, brought me with him for a
mouthful of fresh air, it being so warm and bright. It is the first
time I have been able to get out, sir."
"You are poorly, Charley." I had all but said "dying." But one can only
be complimentary to a poor fellow in that condition.
"Very ill I have been, sir; but I'm better. At one time I never thought
I should get up again. It's this beautiful warm weather coming in so
early that has restored me."
"I don't know about restored? You don't look great things yet."
"You should have seen me a short while ago, sir! I'm getting on."
Lying by his side, on a piece of paper, was a thick slice, doubled, of
bread-and-butter, that he must have brought with him. He broke a piece
off, and ate it.
"You look hungry, Charley."
"That's the worst of it, sir; I'm always hungry," he answered, and his
tone from its eagerness was quite painful to hear, and his eyes grew
moist, and the hectic spread on his cheeks. "It is the nature of the
complaint, I'm told: and poor mother was the same. I could be eating and
drinking every hour, sir, and hardly be satisfied."
"Come along to the inn, and have some tea."
"No, sir; no, thank you," he said, shrinking back. "I answered your
remark thoughtlessly, sir, for it's the truth; not with any notion
that it would make you ask me to take anything. And I've got some
bread-and-butter here."
Going indoors, I told them to serve him a good tea, with a big dish of
bacon and eggs, or some relishing thing of that sort. Whitney came in
and heard me.
"You be hanged, Johnny! We are not going in for all that, here!"
"It's not for us, Bill; it's for that poor old scout, Charley. He's as
surely dying as that you and I are talking. Come and look at him: you
never saw such an object. I don't believe he gets enough to eat."
Whitney came, and did nothing but stare. Charley went indoors with a
good deal of pressing, and we saw him sit down to the feast. Whitney
stayed; I went out-of-doors again.
I remembered a similar case. It was that of a young woman who used to
make Lena's frocks. She fell into a decline. Her appetite was wonderful.
Anything good and substantial to eat and drink, she was always craving
for: and it all seemed to do her no good. Charley Tasson's sickness must
be of the same nature. She died: and he----
I was struck dumb! Seated on the bench under the trees, my thoughts back
in that past time, there came two figures over the rustic bridge. A lady
and gentleman, arm-in-arm: she in a hat and blue feather and dainty lace
parasol; and he with bent head and words softened to a whisper.
Tod!--and Sophie Chalk!
"Good gracious! There's Johnny Ludlow!"
She loosed his arm as she spoke, and came sailing up to me, her gold
bracelets jingling as she gave her hand. I don't believe there are ten
women in England who could get themselves up as effectively as did
Sophie Chalk. Tod looked black as thunder.
"What the devil brings you here, Johnny?"
"I rowed up with Whitney."