THROUGH THE CORN
According to Farmer Bandilow (who was now our last old tenant, striving
to escape from the wreck of plough, by paddling with spade and trowel),
the London season begins with turnip-tops, and ends with cabbage-grubs.
But this year it must have lasted well into the time of turnip-bottoms;
otherwise how could my sister, Lady Fitzragon, have been in London? Not
that we knew very much about the movements of her ladyship, for she
found our cottage beyond the reach of her fat and glittering horses;
only that she must have been now in town, because our Grace was with
her. And this was a lucky thing for me; for if Grace had been at home,
she must have known all about my wounded arm, and a nice fuss she would
have made of it. But my mother, though equally kind and good, was not
very quick of perception; and being out of doors nearly all the day now,
and keeping my own hours, I found it easy enough to avoid all notice and
escape all questions. For the people at the cottage very seldom came to
my special den, the harness-room; and I kept my own little larder in
what had once been a kennel close at hand, and my own little bed up a
flat-runged ladder, and so troubled none but a sweetly deaf old dame.
And this arrangement grew and prospered, whenever there was no Grace to
break through it.
However, there is no luck for some people. One night, when I felt sure
that all the cottage was asleep, I had taken off the bandages, and was
pumping very happily on my left forearm, where the flesh had been torn,
when there in the stableyard before me, conspicuous in the moonlight,
with a blazing satin waistcoat, stood the only man who could do justice
to it. For this gallant fellow had a style of his own, which added new
brilliance to the most brilliant apparel.
"Why, Tom," I cried, "where on earth do you come from? I can't shake
hands, or I shall spoil some of your charms. Why, you must have been
dining with the governor. New togs again! What a coxcomb it is!"
"Never would I have sported these, and indeed I would never have come
down at all, if I had known Grace was out of the way."
He was allowed to call her _Grace_ to me.
"How slow it is without her! But I say, old chap, what a frightful arm
you've got! Pitchfork again, I suppose"--for I had received a scratch
before--"only ten times as bad. Why, you mustn't neglect this. You'll
have it off at the elbow, if you do. Why, even by this light--By Jove,
what a whacking arm you've got! Why, it is twice the size of mine. I
could never have believed it. Let me pull off my coat, and show you."
"But you cannot want one the size of mine"--I answered with a laugh, for
it was thoroughly like Tom to fetch everything into his own person; "you
could never put it into a waistcoat like that."
"George, you are an ass," was his very rude reply, and it seemed to ring
into me far beyond his meaning. "My dear fellow, you will be, in your
own parish, what nobody has seen anywhere,--a dead jackass,--if you go
on like this. There is a black stripe down your arm; the same as you see
on a 'mild-cured-haddy' when he shines by moonlight. What does that
mean? Putrefaction."
"Rot!" I replied, meaning his own words. "I'll pump on you, waistcoat
and all, my dear Tom, if you go on with this sort of rubbish." And yet I
had some idea that he might be right. But the worst--as I need not tell
any strong young fellow--of the absurdities our worthy doctors try to
screw into us now--that a man must not draw the breath the Lord breathed
into him, for fear of myrio-mycelia-micro-somethings, neither dare to
put his fork into the grand haunch of mutton which his Maker ordered
him to arise and eat--of all such infantile stuff the harm is this, that
it makes a healthy man deride the better sense that is in them.
"Come to my hole, and have a smoke," I said to my dear friend. "And mind
you, not a word about this scratch to my good people. To-morrow we shall
cut our first field of wheat. Though it won't pay for cutting and
binding, Tom, the sight is as glorious as ever. What a pity for our
descendants, if we ever have any, to get no chance of ever seeing the
noblest sight of Old England! Come to this gate, and take a look. In a
few more years, there will be no such sight."
"Poetry is all very fine in its way," replied Tom, who had about as much
as I possess, although he could make a hook and eye of rhyme sometimes.
"But the moon will go on all the same, I suppose; and she does most of
our poetry."
She was doing plenty of it now, in silence, such as any man may feel,
but none can make another feel. We waited a minute or two by the gate,
till a white cloud veiled the quivering disc, and then all the lustre
flowed softly to our eyes, like a sea of silver playing smoothly on a
shore of gold.
"After all, love is rot," said Tom, carried away by larger beauty, after
some snub of the day before. "I should like to see any girl who could
compare with that. And a man must be a muff who could look at this, and
then trouble his head about their stupid little tricks. Look at the
breadth of this, look at the depth of it! Why, it lifts one; it makes
one feel larger, George; that is the way to take things."
"Especially when some one has been making you feel small," I answered at
a venture, for I understood my friend; and this abstract worship of
beauty was not so satisfactory to me now. "But come into my place, and
tell me all about it, my dear Tom. You were so mysterious the other day,
that I knew you were after some other wild goose."
"I am happy, most happy," Tom went on to say, after pouring forth the
sorrows of his last love-tale, through many a blue eye and bright curl
of smoke; "I feel that I cannot be thankful enough at the amount of
side that girl puts on. And the beauty of it is, that she hasn't got a
rap, and her husband would have to help to keep her mother. How lucky
for me she never can have heard of the glorious Tinman, or my oofy
maiden-aunt; wouldn't she have jumped at me, if she had? A fellow can't
be too careful, George, when you come to think. But you'll never make a
fool of yourself. Not a bit of romance about you, Farmer Jarge; and a
fellow of your size and family has a right to go in for ten thousand
a-year. How about those gipsies in the valley, though? You mustn't go on
with that, even if you could, my friend. Great swells, I daresay, but no
tin."
"What business of yours? What do you know about them? I'll thank you to
hold your tongue upon subjects that are above you."
"Ha, ha! Ho, ho! Tinmen must look up to tinkers, must they? How dare I
call them tinkers? Well, it is just like this. These people are gipsies,
all gipsies are tinkers, therefore these people are tinkers. But don't
get in a wax, George. I was only chaffing. It may be Cleopatra herself,
for all I know, come to look after her needle--would not look at it,
while her own, will look at nothing else, when lost. Oh, I know what
women are."
"And I know what idiots are," I answered with a superior smile; not
being quite such a fool, I trust, as to pretend to that knowledge which
even the highest genius denies to man. "And an idiot you are to-night,
Tom."
"Well, I may be a little upset," said he, striking his glorious
waistcoat, and then stroking it to remove the mark. "I confess I did
like that girl. And she liked me; I am sure of that. Why, bless her
little heart, she cried, my boy! However, it was not to be. And when I
told her that I must look higher (meaning only up to heaven) for gradual
consolation, what a wax she did get in! Never mind. Let it pass. There
are lots of pretty girls about. And no man can be called mercenary, for
I am blest if any of them have got a bit of tin. I thank the Lord, every
night of my life, that my old aunt never was a beauty. And that makes
her think all the more of me. Sir, your most obedient!"
Behind my chair was an old looking-glass, which Grace had insisted upon
hanging there, to make the place look rather smart; and Tom, who had not
seen himself for some hours, stood up before it in the weak
candle-light, and proceeded in his usual manner. "Tom, my friend, you
don't look so much amiss. If your heart is broken, there is enough of it
left to do a little breaking on its own account. Don't be cast down, my
boy. You may not be a beauty, though beautiful girls think better of you
than your modesty allows you to proclaim. But one thing you may say,
Tom; whoever has the luck to get you, will find you a model husband."
This I thought likely enough; if only he should get a wife with plenty
of sense and love to guide him. But what was the opinion of a tall, hard
man who stood in the doorway with a long gun on his arm, criticising
Erricker's sweet self-commune with a puzzled and yet a very
well-contented gaze?
"Mr. Stoneman!" I exclaimed, giving Tom a little push, for he stood with
his back to him, in happy innocence of critics. "We did not expect this
pleasure so late at night. This is an old friend of mine--Mr. Erricker.
Allow me to introduce you, Tom, to Mr. Jackson Stoneman." My old friend
turned round, without a symptom of embarrassment, and bowed almost as
gracefully as he had been salaaming to himself.
"I have heard of Mr. Erricker, and have great pleasure in making his
acquaintance," our new visitor replied, and I saw that the pleasure was
genuine, and knew why; to wit, that he was thinking in his heart, "That
little fop to make up to Grace Cranleigh!" For no doubt he had heard of
Tom's frequent visits, and the inference drawn by neighbours. "But I
must beg pardon," he continued, "for daring to look in at such a time.
It was only this, I have been down to the pond at the bottom of the long
shrubbery, to look for some shoveller ducks I heard of, and see that no
poachers are after them. I don't want to shoot them, though I brought my
gun; and going back, I happened to see your light up here."
"Sit down, Mr. Stoneman," said Tom, as if he were the master of the
place. "I have often wished to see you, and I will tell you why. I am a
bit of a sportsman, when I can get the chance. But this fellow,
Cranleigh, is so hard at work always that he never will come anywhere to
show me where to go."
"And he has not many places to take you to now." I spoke without
thinking, for to beg permission from this new landowner was about the
last thing I would do. And I was vexed with my friend for his
effrontery.
"Of course I should never dream," proceeded Tom, for he had some reason
in him after all, "to ask leave to shoot on any land of yours, or where
you have taken the shooting rights. But there is a little warren with a
lot of rabbits, on Bandilow's farm, where Sir Harold gives me leave. But
I must go a mile round to get at it, unless I may cross the park with my
gun. May I do so, without firing, of course?"
"To be sure. As often as you like. Any friend of Mr. Cranleigh may do
much more than that. And I am come to ask a favour, too. I have three
fellows doing next to nothing. They have just finished bundling a lot of
furze. Capital fellows with a hook, I believe; and so I don't want to
turn them off. I hear you intend to begin reaping to-morrow. Can you
find a job for them, just for a few days?"
This was a very pretty way to put it. I knew that he had plenty of work
for the men, but wanted to help us with our harvest labour, having
heard, no doubt, that we were short of hands. I thanked him warmly, for
these men would be of the greatest service to us. And then he turned
upon me severely, as if my health were under his superintendence, and I
was trying to elude it, by keeping my arm from his notice.
"You are doing a very stupid thing. You have a shocking wound in your
left arm, caused by the tooth or the claws of a dog; and instead of
having it treated properly, all you do is to pump upon it."
"Halloa!" cried Tom Erricker, "a dog. I wouldn't have that for a
thousand pounds. George, how could you play me such a trick? You told me
it was a pitchfork."
"I told you nothing of the kind. I simply said nothing whatever about
it. It can concern nobody but myself. And I will thank Mr. Stoneman, and
you, too, to attend to your own business."
"It may be no business of mine, perhaps," the stockbroker answered
severely; "but it is the undoubted business of any intimate friend of
yours, and most of all that of your family. Such behaviour of yours is
not true manliness, as I daresay you suppose, but foolhardy
recklessness, and want of consideration for your friends. And what does
that come to but selfishness, under one of its many disguises?"
Tom chimed in to the same effect, even going so far as to ask me what my
father and mother could do without me, even if they survived the trial
of seeing me smothered under a feather-bed. But when both my friends had
killed me of rabies to their entire satisfaction, I showed them in very
few words how little they knew about what they were talking of. For I
had done for myself all that could be done, as well as any doctor could
have managed it, and now there was nothing for it but cold water, and an
easy mind, and trust in Providence.
As soon as Tom Erricker heard of Providence, he began to yawn, as if he
were in church; so I begged him to go to bed, for which he was quite
ready, while I had a little talk with our tenant.
"How did you hear of this affair?" I asked, hoping for some light upon
other matters; "none of our people know it. They make such a fuss about
a dog-bite, that I was obliged to keep it close. I will beg you to do
the same, if you wish to oblige me."
"There is nothing I wish for more than that." Stoneman drew his chair
over as he spoke, and offered me one of his grand cigars; and I was not
above accepting it, with my knowledge of his feelings. "I have your
permission to call you _George_. I will do so, now that your bright
young friend is gone. When I think of the reports that reached me--but I
will say no more. A fine young fellow, no doubt, or he would not be a
friend of yours." The vision of Tom Erricker at the mirror brought a
smile to his firm lips; but for my sake he suppressed it. "Now I want to
talk to you seriously, George. And you will not take it as a liberty,
knowing my very warm regard for--for you."
"You may say what you like. I shall take it kindly. I am well aware that
you know a thousand times as much of the world as I do."
"And a very poor knowledge it is," he replied, gazing at a cloud of his
own smoke. "When the question is of deeper matters, the wisdom of the
world is a broken reed. And yet I want to bring it into play just now.
In the case of another, that is so much easier; just as any fool can
pass judgment on the labour he has never tried with his own hand. Excuse
me, George, if I speak amiss, I do it out of good-will, as some of them
do not, but to show their own superiority. To cut the matter short--I
know all about--no, not all, but a lot about your new friends down in
the valley."
"They can scarcely be called my friends, if I require to be informed
about them." My mind had been full of them, although it was clear that
they cared not to hear any more of me.
"You are surprised, perhaps, at my knowledge of what occurred the other
day. That was by the purest accident; for I am not the sort of man to
play the spy. You know that, I hope. Very well, I took the liberty then
of inquiring for my own sake, and that of the neighbourhood, who these
mysterious settlers were, and I knew where to go for my information.
Like most things, when you get nearer to them, there is no real mystery
at all. The only wonder is that they can have been there so long,
without attracting notice. If the country had been hunted, as it used to
be, when people could afford to keep up the pack, they would never have
been left so quiet. The parson of the parish, as a general rule, routs
up every newcomer for church purposes, no matter what his creed may be;
and I know that they seldom give much start even to the tax-collectors.
But the parson of that parish is a very old man, and has no one to look
after him, and the country is very thinly peopled. Well, they seem to
have bought the place for an old song, so that nobody can interfere with
them. And they soon put it into better order--"
"But who are they? And what are they doing there? And how long do they
mean to stop?"
"Don't be in a hurry, my good friend. There is plenty of time for
another cigar. Pipes you prefer? Very well, fill again. However, for
fear of being knocked on the head, I will resume my parable. Nothing can
be done without paying for it. That is the golden rule in England, and
everywhere else upon this planet. And wherever money passes, it can be
followed up. The strange thing is that these people seem to care very
little about concealment, though they are not sociable. What their
native language is, we do not know, though they seem to be great
linguists. French, German, Russian, Arabic, and I don't know what else,
and some of them very good in our beloved tongue, the hardest to learn
of all the lot. They are of Eastern race, that appears quite certain,
though neither Jews, Turks, nor Armenians. But what they are here for
seems pretty plain--forgery!"
"Ridiculous!" I exclaimed, though without showing any wrath. "They are
people of high rank, I am sure of that. Political exiles, refugees,
Anarchists, or even Nihilists--though I cannot think that. But as for
forgers--"
"It scarcely sounds nice; and yet I have little doubt about it; and the
police have come to that conclusion, and are keeping a sharp eye upon
them. For what other purpose can they want a mill? And a mill which they
have set up themselves, to suit themselves. The old water-wheel they
had, and the cogs and all that, left from the old corn-grinding time;
but they have refitted it for quite a different purpose, and done almost
all of it with their own hands. What for? Plain as a pikestaff--to make
their own paper, and get stamping power, and turn out forged notes,
foreign of course, Russian rouble, the simplest of all."
He had made up his mind. He was sure of this solution. He had no doubt
whatever. Ah, but he had never seen the majestic man who met me, much
less that beautiful nymph of the shrine!
"Stoneman, all this sounds very fine." I met his smile of confidence,
and as it seemed to me of heartless triumph, with a gaze of faith in
humanity--which some people might call romance. "But there is not a word
of truth in it. What inference does a policeman draw? The worst he can
imagine--grist for his own mill. They make the world a black chapter, to
suit their own book. But I have no motive. What motive could I have, to
make out that people are better than they seem? I tell you, and you may
take my word for it, that this little colony, of whatever race it may
be, has no evil purpose in coming among us. I might even go further and
say that I am sure of their having an excellent object, a noble object,
some great discovery, perhaps surpassing all my brother's, and something
that will be of service to entire humanity."
"Money, to wit. You know what the last great forger who was hanged,
before we left off that wise plan, what he said when exhorted to
repentance, 'You make money for yourself, sir, I make it for the good of
the public.' No doubt they take that view of the case."
"Very well, you take a lesson from them, and improve the morals of the
Stock Exchange."
The stockbroker smiled very pleasantly, as one who was thoroughly at
home with that old joke; then he took up his gun, and marched off for
the Hall, leaving me to make the best of things.
Feeling how small are the minds of mankind, even the best of them, when
they listen to the police, and knowing that I could not sleep as yet, I
went once more to the gate at the top of the yard, and gazed over the
wheat which was to lie low on the morrow. Although I had just received
proof of friendship, from two very nice fellows better than myself,
which should have encouraged me to think the best, sadness came into my
heart, and a sombre view of life depressed me. There are two things only
that can save a man from deep dejection occasionally. One of them is to
have no thought whatever, except for affairs of the moment; and the
other and surer is to believe with unchangeable conviction that all is
ordered by a Higher Power, benevolent ever, and ever watchful for those
who commit themselves to it. That atom of humanity, which is myself, has
never been able to sink to the depth of the one condition, or soar to
the height of the other. So there must be frequent ups and downs with
ordinary mortals, gleams of light, and bars of shade; and happy is the
man who can keep the latter from deepening as his steps go on. But who
am I to moralise?
Enough that any fellow worth his salt must be grieved and lowered, when
suspicions arise, concerning those of whom he has formed a high opinion.
How much worse, when his own judgment owns that things look rather
black, and memory quotes against his wishes more than one such
disappointment. If it were so, if those who had made so deep an
impression on me were skulking rogues and stealthy felons, no wonder
they had not cared to ask what became of the stranger, who by remarkable
presence of mind had saved the life of their valued warder, and then
with a modesty no less rare, had vanished before they could thank him,
if they ever had the grace to intend it. "All the better," I said to
myself, with the acumen of the wisest fox that ever entered vineyard,
"even if all had been right, it never could have led to any good; and
see what a vast amount of work is coming on all at once, with no one
else to do it! And all the time is there any one but myself to see to my
young sister's doings? Here is this fellow Stoneman sweet upon her,
wonderfully sweet, quite spoony--who could have believed it of a
stockbroker? What do I know about him? Nothing, except that he has
endless tin, and spends it certainly like a brick. Is he worthy of her,
and if he is, will she even look at him? Rather a romantic girl, too
fond of her own opinions, and yet a little prone to hero-worship. She
might fall in love with some hero in London who hasn't got a
half-penny--halloa, what can that be, winding in and out so, through the
wheat?"
The moon, now very nearly full, was making that low round of the sky
which is all it can manage in August, and seemed rather to look along
the field than heartily down upon it. The effect was very different now
from that which Tom and I had watched. For the surface of the luxuriant
corn, instead of imbibing and simpering with light, was flawed and
patched (like a flowing tide) with flittings and hoverings of light and
shade. And along a sweep of darkness near the shadow of a tree, there
was something moving stealthily like the figure of a man.
For a moment or two, I did not enjoy that calmness of mind which is
believed (by Britons) to be the prerogative of Britons. The period of
the night, and the posture of the moon, and peculiar tone of things not
to be told, as well as some dread of a mischief to my brain--through
what had befallen me recently--took away from me that superior gift
which had enabled me to beat the bull-dog. However, I might just as well
not have been afraid--as we generally find out afterwards--for the other
apparition, whatever it might be, was ever so much more afraid of me.
"What on earth are you about there?" I shouted bravely, when this
welcome truth came to my knowledge. "Can't you stand up like a man, and
say what you are about?"
In reply to my challenge an undersized figure scarcely any taller than
the corn arose, showing a very strange head-dress and other outlandish
garments, and a loose idea generally of being all abroad. "You are the
little chap I saw the other day," said I.
He nodded his head, and said something altogether outside of my
classical attainments; and then he pulled forth from a long coat, whose
colours no moon, or even rainbow could render, a small square package,
which he lifted to his eyes. With a rush of my heart into the situation,
I seized him by his collar, or the thing that represented it, and
twisted him over the gate; and he looked thankful, having some fear
perhaps of English five-bars.
In half a minute, I had this little fellow in my den, where he trembled
and blinked at the light, and then grinned, as if to propitiate a
cannibal. And I was pleased to see that he had pluck enough to put one
hand upon the hilt of a little blue skewer which he wore in his belt,
and then he looked at me boldly. With a smile to reassure him, I offered
to take the missive from his other hand. But that was not the proper
style of doing business with him. He drew back for a pace or two, and
made the utmost of his puny figure, and then with a low bow stretched
forth both hands, and behold there was a letter in the end of a cleft
stick! Where he found the cleft stick is more than I can tell. At the
same time, he said _Allai_, which turned out afterwards to be his own
name.
"Sit down in that corner, little chap," I said as graciously as if he
knew English. "And make yourself at home, while I get on with this."
Perhaps he was out of practice in the art of sitting down, for instead
of accepting the chair I offered, he clapped himself in some wonderful
manner upon a hassock. But it was impossible for me to attend to him
much, until I knew what he had brought.
Now there was nothing particularly foreign about this. It looked like an
ordinary English letter, except that the paper was not like ours, and
the envelope was secured with silk, as well as sealed. But the writing
was the daintiest that ever I did see; and I longed to get rid of that
"darkie" in the corner, whose eyes flashed at me from the gloomy floor.
And his hand was playing with his _kinjal_ all the time, for so they
call those deadly bits of steel, without which they never think their
attire complete. Being unaccustomed to be looked at so, I could not
enter into my fair letter as I wished; though that little fellow would
have flown up to the slates, before he could get near me with that
hateful snakish thing. And to tell the truth, I did him wrong by any
such suspicion; for there could never be a more loyal, honest, and
zealous retainer than Allai. "Here you are," I said, addressing him in
English, though well aware now that he was none the wiser; "here's a
drop of good beer for you, young man. You take a pull at that, while I
write my answer. Ah, you won't get such stuff as that in--well, I don't
know where you hail from; but all over the world I defy you to get
anything like it."
Allai gave a grunt which I took for acquiescence; and leaving him to
enjoy himself, I wrote a few lines and enclosed them in a cover. Then I
found a bit of sealing wax, and sealed it very carefully, and fixed it
in the cleft wand, and handed it to Allai.
"You go straight away, quick-sticks, with this, and don't you lose it,
or I'll break your neck. Why, I'm blest if the pagan has drunk a drop of
his beer! Can such a race ever be brought up to date? Why, he takes it
for virulent poison!"
The young savage had poured my good ale upon the floor, and was soaking
the point of his dagger in it. He had put the glass to his lips no
doubt, and arrived at the sage conclusion that here was swift death for
his enemies. However, he possessed some civilisation as to the meaning
of a broad crown-piece, which in the fervour of my joy I set before him.
To a rich man it would have been well worth the money, to see the glad
sparkle of those black eyes, and the grin upon those swarthy cheeks.
Suddenly with a deep salaam his slender form turned and was gone like a
shadow.
And then I was able at last to dwell upon this very beautiful letter,
which might to the outward eye appear to convey not a token of anything
more than "Miss Mary Jones presents her compliments;" but to my deeper
perception, and hopes higher than any telescope may carry, it showed the
sky cast open at the zenith, like a lily, and a host of golden angels
letting down a ladder for me. For no longer could I hide my state of
mind, or disguise it from myself. Henceforth I shall be open about it,
though hitherto ashamed to say half of what I thought, while I had such
a little to go upon. But here is my key to Paradise. Let every man judge
for himself, bearing in mind that he never can be wise until he has been
a fool seventy times seven.
"SIR,--My dear father, Sûr Imar, of Daghestan, has been injured
very greatly by your alien conduct to him. Your actions were of
high bravery, and great benevolence to us. But when we desired very
largely to inform you of our much gratitude, we could not discover
you in any place, and we sought for you vainly, with great
eagerness of sorrow. And then, for a long space of time, we made
endeavour to find out the name of the gentleman who had done us so
great a service, but would not permit us to thank him. We are
strangers here, and have not much knowledge. After that, a man who
possesses three goats pronounced to us that he understood the
matter. According to his words, I take the liberty of letter,
entreating you, if it is right, to come, and permit us to see to
whom we owe so much. And my father is afraid that the gentleman was
injured in the conflict with a furious English beast. If, then,
this should have happened, he can remedy it, as perhaps you cannot
in this country. I desire also, if it is right, to join my own
entreaties. I am, Sir, Yours very faithfully,
DARIEL."