A SECRET.
It was indeed Mehetabel.
She entered quietly, without a word, carrying Bideabout's gun, which
she placed in the corner, by the fireplace.
Jonas and his sister looked at her, at first terror-struck, as
though they beheld a ghost, then with unrest, for they knew not
what she would say.
She said nothing.
She was deadly pale, and Iver, looking at her, was reminded of the
Mehetabel he had seen in his dream.
At once she recognized that her husband's arm was being dressed,
and leisurely, composedly, she came forward to hold the basin of
water, and do whatever was required of her by the surgeon.
The first to speak was Iver, who said, "Matabel! We have just been
told you had fallen into the water."
"Yes. My dress is soaked."
"And you managed to get out?"
"Yes, when I fell I had hold of my husband's gun and that was
caught in a bush; it held me up."
"But how came you to fall?"
"I believe I was unconscious perhaps a faint."
Nothing further could be elicited from her, then or later. Had she
any suspicion that she had been struck down? This was a question
that, later, Jonas asked himself. But he never knew till--, but we
must not anticipate.
A day or two after that eventful night he made some allusion to a
blow on her head, when she appeared with a bandage round it.
"Yes," she said: "I fell, and hurt myself."
For some days Bideabout was in much pain and discomfort. His left
shoulder had been injured by the ball that had lodged in it, and
it was probable that he would always be stiff in that arm, and be
unable to raise it above the breast. He was irritable and morose.
He watched Mehetabel suspiciously and with mistrust of her
intentions. What did she know? What did she surmise? If she
thought that he had attempted to put an end to her life, would she
retaliate? In his suspicion he preferred to have his sister attend
to him, and Sarah consented to do for him, in his sickness, what
he required, not out of fraternal affection, but as a means of
slighting the young wife, and of observing the relations that
subsisted between her and Jonas.
Sarah Rocliffe was much puzzled by what had taken place. Her
brother's manner had roused her alarm. She knew that he had gone
forth with his jealousy lashed to fury. She had herself kindled the
fire. Then he had come upon Mehetabel and Iver on the Moor, she
could not doubt. How otherwise explain the knowledge of the
accident which led Iver to bring the surgeon to the assistance of
her brother?
But the manner in which the accident had occurred and the occasion
of it, all of this was dark to her. Then the arrival of Jonas alone,
and his reticence relative to his wife, till she had asked about
her; also his extraordinary statement, his manifest terror; and the
silence of Mehetabel on her reappearance, all this proved a mystery
involving the events of the night, that Sarah Rocliffe was desirous
to unravel.
She found that her every effort met with a rebuff from Jonas,
and elicited nothing from Mehetabel, who left her in the same
uncertainty as was Bideabout, whether she knew anything, or
suspected anything beyond the fact that she had fallen insensible
into the water. She had fallen grasping the gun, which had become
entangled in some bushes, and this together with the water weeds
had sustained her. When she recovered consciousness she had drawn
herself out of the marsh by means of the gun, and had seated
herself under an old pine tree, till her senses were sufficiently
clear. Thereupon she had made the best of her way homeward.
What did she think of Jonas for having left her in the water? asked
Mrs. Rocliffe.
Mehetabel answered, simply, that she had not thought about it. Wet,
cold, and faint, she had possessed no idea save how to reach home.
There was much talk in the Punch-Bowl as well as throughout the
neighborhood relative to what had taken place, and many forms were
assumed by the rumor as it circulated. Most men understood well
enough that Jonas had gone after the Peperharow deer, and was
attempting to forestall others--therefore, serve him right, was
their judgment, however he came by his accident.
Iver left Thursley on the day following and returned to Guildford.
The surgeon staying at the Ship Inn continued his visits to the
Punch-Bowl, as long as he was there, and then handed his patient
over to the local practitioner.
Mrs. Verstage was little better informed than the rest of the
inhabitants of Thursley, for her son had not told her anything
about the accident to Jonas, more than was absolutely necessary;
and to all her inquiries returned a laughing answer that as he had
not shot the Broom-Squire he could not inform her how the thing
was done.
She was too much engaged so long as the visitors were in the
house, to be able to leave it; and Mehetabel did not come near her.
As soon, however, as she was more free, she started in her little
trap for the Punch-Bowl, and arrived at a time when Jonas was not
at home.
This exactly suited her. She had Mehetabel to herself, and could
ask her any questions she liked without restraint.
"My dear Matabel," she said, "I've had a trying time of it, with
the house full, and only Polly to look to for everything. Will you
believe me--on Sunday I said I would give the gentlemen a little
plum-pudding. I mixed it myself, and told Polly to boil it, whilst
I went to church. Of course, I supposed she would do it properly,
but with those kind of people one must take nothing for granted."
"Did she spoil the pudding, mother?"
"Oh, no--the pudding was all right."
"Then what harm was done?"
"She spoiled my best nightcap."
"How so?"
"Boiled the puddin' in it, because she couldn't find a bag. I'll
never get it proper white again, nor the frills starched and made
up. And there is the canary bird, too."
"What of that, mother?"
"My dear, I told Polly to clean out the cage."
"And did she not do it?"
"Oh, yes--only too well. She dipped it in a pan of hot water and
soda--and the bird in it."
"What--the canary--is it dead?"
"Of course it is, and bleached white too. That girl makes the water
so thick wi' soda you could stand a spoon up in it. She used five
pounds in two days."
"Oh, the poor canary!" Mehetabel was greatly troubled for her pet.
"I don't quite understand the ways o' Providence," said Mrs.
Verstage. "I don't suppose I shall till the veil be lifted. I
understand right enough why oysters ain't given eyes--lest they
should see those who are opening their mouths to eat 'em. And if
geese were given wings like swallows, they wouldn't bide with us
over Michaelmas. But why Providence should ha' denied domestic
servants the gift of intelligence wherewith we, their masters and
mistresses, be so largely endowed--that beats me. Well," in a tone
of resignation, "one will know that some day, doubtless."
After a bit of conversation about the progress of Jonas to
convalescence, and the chance of his being able to use his arm,
Mrs. Verstage approached the topic uppermost in her mind.
"I should like to hear all about it, from your own mouth, Matabel.
There is such a number of wonderful tales going round, all
contradictory, and so, of course, all can't be true. Some even
tell that you fired the gun and wounded Jonas. But that is
ridiculous, as I said to Maria Entiknap. And actually one story
is that my Iver was in it somehow. Of course, I knew he heard
there was an accident. You told him when you was fetched away.
Who fetched you from the Ship? I left you in the kitchen."
"Oh, mother," said Mehetabel, "all the events of that terrible
night are confused in my head, and I don't know where to begin--nor
what is true and what fancy, so I'd as lief say nothing about it."
"If you can't trust me--" said Mrs. Verstage, somewhat offended.
"I could trust you with anything," answered Mehetabel hastily.
"Indeed, it is not that, but somehow I fell, and I suppose with
fright, and a blow I got in falling, every event got so mixed with
fancies and follies that I don't know where truth begins and fancy
ends. For that reason I do not wish to speak."
"Now look here," said Mrs. Verstage, "I've brought you a present
such as I wouldn't give to any one. It's a cookery book, as was
given me. See what I have wrote, or got Simon to write for me,
on the fly-leaf.
"'Susanna Verstage, her book,
Give me grace therein to look.
Not only to look, but to understand,
For learning is better than houses and land.
When land is gone, and money is spent,
Then learning is most excellent.'
"And the reason why I part with this Matabel, is because of that
little conversation we had together the other day at the Ship.
I don't believe as how you and Bideabout get along together first
rate. Now I know men, their ins and outs, pretty completely, and
I know that the royal road to their affections is through their
stomachs. You use this book of receipts, they're not extravagant
ones, but they are all good, and in six months Jonas will just
about worship you."
"Mother," said Mehetabel, after thanking her, "you are very kind."
"Not at all. I've had experience in husbands, and you're, so to
speak, raw to it. They are humorous persons, are men, you have to
give in a little here and take a good slice there. If you give up
to them there's an end to all peace and quietness. If you don't
give in enough the result is the same. What all men want is to make
their wives their slaves. You know, I suppose, how Gilly Cheel,
the younger, got his name of Jamaica?"
"I do not think I do."
"Why he and his Bessy are always quarrelling! Neither will yield
to the other. At last, by some means, Gilly got wind that in West
Indies, there are slaves, and he thought, if he could only get
out there with Bess that he'd be able to enslave her and make her
do what he wished. So he pretended that he'd got a little money
left him in Jamaica, and must needs go out there and settle. She
said she wouldn't go, and he had no call to go there, except just
for the sake of getting her under control. Then he talked big of
the beautiful climate, and all the cooking done by the sun, and no
washing needed, because clothing are unnecessary, and not only
no washing, but no mending neither, no stockings to knit, no buttons
to put on--a Paradise for wimen, said Gilly--but still he couldn't
get Bessy to hear of going out to the West Indies. At last, how it
was, I can't say, but she got wind of the institootion of slavery
there, and then she guessed at once what was working in Gilly's
mind. Since that day he's always gone by the name of Jamaica, and
fellows that want to tease him shout, 'Taken your passage yet for
you and Bessy to Jamaica?'"
"My dear mother," said Mehetabel, "I should not mind being a slave
in my husband's house, and to him, if there were love to beautify
and sanctify it. But it would not be slavery then, and now I am
afraid that you, mother, have perhaps took it unkind that I did not
tell you more about that shot. If so, let me make all good again
between us by telling you a real secret. There's no one else knows
it."
"What is that?" asked the hostess eagerly.
Mehetabel was nervous and colored.
"May I tell you in your ear?"
Mrs. Verstage extended an ear to her, she would have applied both
to Mehetabel's mouth had that been feasible.
The young wife, with diffidence, whispered something.
A beam of satisfaction lit up the old woman's face.
"That's famous. That's just as it ort. With that and with the
cookery book, Jonas'll just adore you. There's nuthin' like that
for makin' a home homely."
"And you'll come to me?"
"My dear, if alive and well, without fail."