AN AUCTION
What if my house be troubled with a rat,
And I be pleased to give ten thousand ducats
To have it baned--_Shakespeare_
One evening in March, when the days were lengthening fast, there came a
messenger from Dorchester, and brought printed notices for fixing to the
shutters of the Why Not? and to the church door, which said that in a
week's time the bailiff of the duchy of Cornwall would visit Moonfleet.
This bailiff was an important person, and his visits stood as events in
village history. Once in five years he made a perambulation, or journey,
through the whole duchy, inspecting all the Royal property, and arranging
for new leases. His visits to Moonfleet were generally short enough, for
owing to the Mohunes owning all the land, the only duchy estate there was
the Why Not? and the only duty of the bailiff to renew that five-year
lease, under which Blocks had held the inn, father and son, for
generations. But for all that, the business was not performed without
ceremony, for there was a solemn show of putting up the lease of the inn
to the highest bidder, though it was well understood that no one except
Elzevir would make an offer.
So one morning, a week later, I went up to the top end of the village
to watch for the bailiff's postchaise, and about eleven of the forenoon
saw it coming down the hill with four horses and two postillions.
Presently it came past, and I saw there were two men in it--a clerk
sitting with his back to the horses, and in the seat opposite a little
man in a periwig, whom I took for the bailiff. Then I ran down to my
aunt's house, for Elzevir had asked me to beg one of her best winter
candles for a purpose which I will explain presently. I had not seen
Aunt Jane, except in church, since the day that she dismissed me, but
she was no stiffer than usual, and gave me the candle readily enough.
'There,' she said, 'take it, and I wish it may bring light into your
dark heart, and show you what a wicked thing it is to leave your own
kith and kin and go to dwell in a tavern.' I was for saying that it was
kith and kin that left me, and not I them; and as for living in a
tavern, it was better to live there than nowhere at all, as she would
wish me to do in turning me out of her house; but did not, and only
thanked her for the candle, and was off.
When I came to the inn, there was the postchaise in front of the door,
the horses being led away to bait, and a little group of villagers
standing round; for though the auction of the Why Not? was in itself a
trite thing with a foregone conclusion, yet the bailiff's visit always
stirred some show of interest. There were a few children with their noses
flattened against the windows of the parlour, and inside were Mr. Bailiff
and Mr. Clerk hard at work on their dinner. Mr. Bailiff, who was, as I
guessed, the little man in the periwig, sat at the top of the table, and
Mr. Clerk sat at the bottom, and on chairs were placed their hats, and
travelling-cloaks, and bundles of papers tied together with green tape.
You may be sure that Elzevir had a good dinner for them, with hot rabbit
pie and cold round of brawn, and a piece of blue vinny, which Mr. Bailiff
ate heartily, but his clerk would not touch, saying he had as lief chew
soap. There was also a bottle of Ararat milk, and a flagon of ale, for we
were afraid to set French wines before them, lest they should fall to
wondering how they were come by.
Elzevir took the candle, chiding me a little for being late, and set it
in a brass candlestick in the middle of the table. Then Mr. Clerk takes a
little rule from his pocket, measures an inch down on the candle, sticks
into the grease at that point a scarf-pin with an onyx head that Elzevir
lent him, and lights the wick. Now the reason of this was, that the
custom ran in Moonfleet when either land or lease was put up to bidding,
to stick a pin in a candle; and so long as the pin held firm, it was open
to any to make a better offer, but when the flame burnt down and the pin
fell out, then land or lease fell to the last bidder. So after dinner was
over and the table cleared, Mr. Clerk takes out a roll of papers and
reads a legal description of the Why Not?, calling it the Mohune Arms, an
excellent messuage or tenement now used as a tavern, and speaking of the
convenient paddocks or parcels of grazing land at the back of it, called
Moons'-lease, amounting to sixteen acres more or less. Then he invites
the company to make an offer of rent for such a desirable property under
a five years' lease, and as Elzevir and I are the only company present,
the bidding is soon done; for Elzevir offers a rent of £12 a year, which
has always been the value of the Why Not? The clerk makes a note of
this; but the business is not over yet, for we must wait till the pin
drops out of the candle before the lease is finally made out. So the men
fell to smoking to pass the time, till there could not have been more
than ten minutes' candle to burn, and Mr. Bailiff, with a glass of Ararat
milk in his hand, was saying, 'Tis a curious and fine tap of Hollands you
keep here, Master Block,' when in walked Mr. Maskew.
A thunderbolt would not have astonished me so much as did his appearance,
and Elzevir's face grew black as night; but the bailiff and clerk showed
no surprise, not knowing the terms on which persons in our village stood
to one another, and thinking it natural that someone should come in to
see the pin drop, and the end of an ancient custom. Indeed, Maskew seemed
to know the bailiff, for he passed the time of day with him, and was then
for sitting down at the table without taking any notice of Elzevir or me.
But just as he began to seat himself, Block shouted out, 'You are no
welcome visitor in my house, and I would sooner see your back than see
your face, but sit at this table you shall not.' I knew what he meant;
for on that table they had laid out David's body, and with that he struck
his fist upon the board so smart as to make the bailiff jump and nearly
bring the pin out of the candle.
'Heyday, sirs,' says Mr. Bailiff, astonished, 'let us have no brawling
here, the more so as this worshipful gentleman is a magistrate and
something of a friend of mine.' Yet Maskew refrained from sitting, but
stood by the bailiff's chair, turning white, and not red, as he did with
Mr. Glennie; and muttered something, that he had as lief stand as sit,
and that it should soon be Block's turn to ask sitting-room of _him_.
I was wondering what possibly could have brought Maskew there, when the
bailiff, who was ill at ease, said--'Come, Mr. Clerk, the pin hath but
another minute's hold; rehearse what has been done, for I must get this
lease delivered and off to Bridport, where much business waits.'
So the clerk read in a singsong voice that the property of the duchy of
Cornwall, called the Mohune Arms, an inn or tavern, with all its land,
tenements, and appurtenances, situate in the Parish of St. Sebastian,
Moonfleet, having been offered on lease for five years, would be let to
Elzevir Block at a rent of £12 per annum, unless anyone offered a higher
rent before the pin fell from the candle.
There was no one to make another offer, and the bailiff said to Elzevir,
'Tell them to have the horses round, the pin will be out in a minute, and
'twill save time.' So Elzevir gave the order, and then we all stood round
in silence, waiting for the pin to fall. The grease had burnt down to the
mark, or almost below it, as it appeared; but just where the pin stuck in
there was a little lump of harder tallow that held bravely out, refusing
to be melted. The bailiff gave a stamp of impatience with his foot under
the table as though he hoped thus to shake out the pin, and then a little
dry voice came from Maskew, saying--
'I offer £13 a year for the inn.'
This fell upon us with so much surprise, that all looked round, seeking
as it were some other speaker, and never thinking that it could be
Maskew. Elzevir was the first, I believe, to fully understand 'twas he;
and without turning to look at bailiff or Maskew, but having his elbows
on the table, his face between his hands, and looking straight out to
sea said in a sturdy voice, 'I offer £20.'
The words were scarce out of his mouth when Maskew caps them with £21,
and so in less than a minute the rent of the Why Not? was near doubled.
Then the bailiff looked from one to the other, not knowing what to make
of it all, nor whether 'twas comedy or serious, and said--
'Kind sir, I warn ye not to trifle; I have no time to waste in April
fooling, and he who makes offers in sport will have to stand to them
in earnest.'
But there was no lack of earnest in one at least of the men that he had
before him, and the voice with which Elzevir said £30 was still sturdy.
Maskew called £31 and £41, and Elzevir £40 and £50, and then I looked at
the candle, and saw that the head of the pin was no longer level, it had
sunk a little--a very little. The clerk awoke from his indifference, and
was making notes of the bids with a squeaking quill, the bailiff frowned
as being puzzled, and thinking that none had a right to puzzle him. As
for me, I could not sit still, but got on my feet, if so I might better
bear the suspense; for I understood now that Maskew had made up his mind
to turn Elzevir out, and that Elzevir was fighting for his home. _His_
home, and had he not made it my home too, and were we both to be made
outcasts to please the spite of this mean little man?
There were some more bids, and then I knew that Maskew was saying £91,
and saw the head of the pin was lower; the hard lump of tallow in Aunt
Jane's candle was thawing. The bailiff struck in: 'Are ye mad, sirs, and
you, Master Block, save your breath, and spare your money; and if this
worshipful gentleman must become innkeeper at any price, let him have the
place in the Devil's name, and I will give thee the Mermaid, at Bridport,
with a snug parlour, and ten times the trade of this.'
Elzevir seemed not to hear what he said, but only called out £100, with
his face still looking out to sea, and the same sturdiness in his voice.
Then Maskew tried a spring, and went to £120, and Elzevir capped him with
£130, and £140, £150, £160, £170 followed quick. My breath came so fast
that I was almost giddy, and I had to clench my hands to remind myself of
where I was, and what was going on. The bidders too were breathing hard,
Elzevir had taken his head from his hands, and the eyes of all were on
the pin. The lump of tallow was worn down now; it was hard to say why the
pin did not fall. Maskew gulped out £180, and Elzevir said £190, and then
the pin gave a lurch, and I thought the Why Not? was saved, though at the
price of ruin. No; the pin had not fallen, there was a film that held it
by the point, one second, only one second. Elzevir's breath, which was
ready to outbid whatever Maskew said, caught in his throat with the
catching pin, and Maskew sighed out £200, before the pin pattered on the
bottom of the brass candlestick.
The clerk forgot his master's presence and shut his notebook with a bang,
'Congratulate you, sir,' says he, quite pert to Maskew; 'you are the
landlord of the poorest pothouse in the Duchy at £200 a year.'
The bailiff paid no heed to what his man did, but took his periwig
off and wiped his head. 'Well, I'm hanged,' he said; and so the Why
Not? was lost.
Just as the last bid was given, Elzevir half-rose from his chair, and
for a moment I expected to see him spring like a wild beast on Maskew;
but he said nothing, and sat down again with the same stolid look on his
face. And, indeed, it was perhaps well that he thus thought better of
it, for Maskew stuck his hand into his bosom as the other rose; and
though he withdrew it again when Elzevir got back to his chair, yet the
front of his waistcoat was a little bulged, and, looking sideways, I saw
the silver-shod butt of a pistol nestling far down against his white
shirt. The bailiff was vexed, I think, that he had been betrayed into
such strong words; for he tried at once to put on as indifferent an air
as might be, saying in dry tones, 'Well, gentlemen, there seems to be
here some personal matter into which I shall not attempt to spy. Two
hundred pounds more or less is but a flea-bite to the Duchy; and if you,
sir,' turning to Maskew, 'wish later on to change your mind, and be quit
of the bargain, I shall not be the man to stand in your way. In any
case, I imagine 'twill be time enough to seal the lease if I send it
from London.'
I knew he said this, and hinted at delay as wishing to do Elzevir a good
turn; for his clerk had the lease already made out pat, and it only
wanted the name and rent filled in to be sealed and signed. But, 'No,'
says Maskew, 'business is business, Mr. Bailiff, and the post uncertain
to parts so distant from the capital as these; so I'll thank you to make
out the lease to me now, and on May Day place me in possession.'
'So be it then,' said the bailiff a little testily, 'but blame me not for
driving hard bargains; for the Duchy, whose servant I am,' and he raised
his hat, 'is no daughter of the horse-leech. Fill in the figures, Mr.
Scrutton, and let us away.'
So Mr. Scrutton, for that was Mr. Clerk's name, scratches a bit with his
quill on the parchment sheet to fill in the money, and then Maskew
scratches his name, and Mr. Bailiff scratches his name, and Mr. Clerk
scratches again to witness Mr. Bailiff's name, and then Mr. Bailiff takes
from his mails a little shagreen case, and out from the case comes
sealing-wax and the travelling seal of the Duchy.
There was my aunt's best winter-candle still burning away in the
daylight, for no one had taken any thought to put it out; and Mr. Bailiff
melts the wax at it, till a drop of sealing-wax falls into the grease and
makes a gutter down one side, and then there is a sweating of the
parchment under the hot wax, and at last on goes the seal. 'Signed,
sealed, and delivered,' says Mr. Clerk, rolling up the sheet and handing
it to Maskew; and Maskew takes and thrusts it into his bosom underneath
his waistcoat front--all cheek by jowl with that silver-hafted pistol,
whose butt I had seen before.
The postchaise stood before the door, the horses were stamping on the
cobble-stones, and the harness jingled. Mr. Clerk had carried out his
mails, but Mr. Bailiff stopped for a moment as he flung the travelling
cloak about his shoulders to say to Elzevir, 'Tut, man, take things not
too hardly. Thou shalt have the Mermaid at £20 a year, which will be
worth ten times as much to thee as this dreary place; and canst send thy
son to Bryson's school, where they will make a scholar of him, for he is
a brave lad'; and he touched my shoulder, and gave me a kindly look as
he passed.
'I thank your worship,' said Elzevir, 'for all your goodness; but when I
quit this place, I shall not set up my staff again at any inn door.'
Mr. Bailiff seemed nettled to see his offer made so little of, and left
the room with a stiff, 'Then I wish you good day.'
Maskew had slipped out before him, and the children's noses left the
window-pane as the great man walked down the steps. There was a little
group to see the start, but it quickly melted; and before the clatter of
hoofs died away, the report spread through the village that Maskew had
turned Elzevir out of the Why Not?
For a long time after all had gone, Elzevir sat at the table with his
head between his hands, and I kept quiet also, both because I was myself
sorry that we were to be sent adrift, and because I wished to show
Elzevir that I felt for him in his troubles. But the young cannot enter
fully into their elders' sorrows, however much they may wish to, and
after a time the silence palled upon me. It was getting dusk, and the
candle which bore itself so bravely through auction and lease-sealing
burnt low in the socket. A minute later the light gave some flickering
flashes, failings, and sputters, and then the wick tottered, and out
popped the flame, leaving us with the chilly grey of a March evening
creeping up in the corners of the room. I could bear the gloom no longer,
but made up the fire till the light danced ruddy across pewter and
porcelain on the dresser. 'Come, Master Block,' I said, 'there is time
enough before May Day to think what we shall do, so let us take a cup of
tea, and after that I will play you a game of backgammon.' But he still
remained cast down, and would say nothing; and as chance would have it,
though I wished to let him win at backgammon, that so, perhaps, he might
get cheered, yet do what I would that night I could not lose. So as his
luck grew worse his moodiness increased, and at last he shut the board
with a bang, saying, in reference to that motto that ran round its edge,
'Life is like a game of hazard, and surely none ever flung worse throws,
or made so little of them as I.'