DUCK AND GREEN PEAS.
EVE might evade an explanation by turning the defence into an attack
when first surprised, but she was unable to resist a determined
onslaught, and when Barbara followed her and parried all her feints,
and brought her to close quarters, Eve was driven to admit that she
had seen Martin, who was in concealment in the wood, and that she had
undertaken to furnish him with food and the boathouse key. Jasper was
taken into consultation, and promised to seek his brother and provide
for him what was necessary, but neither he nor Barbara could induce her
to remain at home and not revisit the fugitive.
‘I know that Jasper will not find the place without me,’ she said.
‘Watt only discovered it by his prowling about as a weasel. I must go
with Mr. Jasper, but I promise you, Barbie, it shall be for the last
time.’ There was reason in her argument, and Barbara was forced to
acquiesce.
Accordingly in the evening, not before, the two set out for the mine,
Eve carrying some provisions in a basket. Jasper was much annoyed that
his brother was still in the neighbourhood, and still causing trouble
to the sisters at Morwell.
Eve had shown her father the ring. The old man was satisfied; he took
it, looked hard at it, slipped it on his little finger, and would not
surrender it again. Eve must explain this to Martin if he redemanded
the ring, which he was like enough to do.
Neither she nor Jasper spoke much to each other on the way; he had his
thoughts occupied, and she was not easy in her mind. As they approached
the part of the wood where the mine shaft was, she began to sing the
song in ‘Don Giovanni,’ _Là ci darem_, as a signal to Watt that friends
drew nigh through the bushes. On entering the adit they found Martin
in an ill humour. He had been without food for many hours, and was
moreover suffering from an attack of rheumatism.
‘I said as much this morning, Eve,’ he growled. ‘I knew this hateful
hole would make me ill, and here I am in agonies. Oh, it is of no use
your bringing me the key of the boat; _I_ can’t go on the water with
knives running into my back, and, what is more, I can’t stick in this
hateful burrow. How many hours on the water down to Plymouth? I can’t
even think of it; I should have rheumatic fever. I’d rather be back
in jail—there I suppose they would give me hot-bottles and blankets.
And this, too, when I had prepared such a treat for Eve. Curse it! I’m
always thinking of others, and getting into pickles myself accordingly.’
‘Why, pray, what were you scheming to do for Miss Eve?’ asked Jasper.
‘O, the company I was with for a bit is at Plymouth, and are performing
Weber’s new piece, “Preciosa,” and I thought I’d like to show it to
her—and then the manager, Justice Barret, knows about her mother. When
I told him of my escape, and leaving you at Morwell, he said that he
had left one of his company there named Eve. I thought it would be a
pleasure to the young lady to meet him, and hear what he had to tell of
her mother.’
‘And you intended to carry Eve off with you?’
‘I intended to persuade her to accompany me. Perhaps she will do so
still, when I am better.’
Jasper was angry, and spoke sharply to his brother. Martin turned on
his bed of fern and heather, and groaning, put his hands over his ears.
‘Come,’ said he. ‘Watt, give me food. I can’t stand scolding on an
empty stomach, and with aches in my bones.’
He was impervious to argument; remonstrance he resented. Jasper
took the basket from Eve, and gave him what he required. He groaned
and cried out as Watt raised him in his arms. Martin looked at Eve,
appealing for sympathy. He was a martyr, a guiltless sufferer, and not
spared even by his brother.
‘I think, Martin,’ said Jasper, ‘that if you were well wrapped in
blankets you might still go in the boat.’
‘You seem vastly eager to be rid of me,’ answered Martin peevishly,
‘but, I tell you, I will not go. I’m not going to jeopardise my life on
the river in the fogs and heavy dews to relieve you from anxiety. How
utterly and unreasonably selfish you are! If there be one vice which
is despicable, it is selfishness. I repeat, I won’t go, and I won’t
stay in this hole. You must find some safe and warm place in which
to stow me. I throw all responsibilities on you. I wish I had never
escaped from jail—I have been sinking ever since I left it. There I had
a dry cell and food. From that I went to the corn-chamber at Morwell,
which was dry—but, faugh! how it stank of onions! Now I have this damp
dungeon that smells of mould. Watt and you got me out of prison, and
got me away from the warders and constables, so you must provide for
me now. I have nothing more to do with it. If you take a responsibility
on you, my doctrine is, go through with it; don’t take it up and drop
it half finished. What news of that fellow I shot? Is he dead?’
‘No—wounded, but not dangerously.’
‘There, then, why should I fear? I was comfortable in jail. I had
my meals regularly there, and was not subjected to damp. I trust my
country would have cared for me better than my brothers, who give me at
one time onions for a pillow, and at another heather for a bed.’
‘My dear Martin,’ said Jasper, ‘I think if you try you can walk up the
road; there is a woodman’s hut among the trees near the Raven Rock, but
concealed in the coppice. It is warm and dry, and no one will visit it
whilst the leaves are on the trees. The workmen keep their tools there,
and their dinners, when shredding in winter or rending in spring. You
will be as safe there as here, and so much nearer Morwell that we shall
be able easily to furnish you with necessaries till you are better, and
can escape to Plymouth.’
‘I’m not sure that it is wise for me to try to get to Plymouth. The
police will be on the look-out for me there, and they will not dream
that I have stuck here—this is the last place where they would suppose
I stayed. Besides, I have no money. No; I will wait till the company
move away from the county, and I will rejoin it at Bridgewater,
or Taunton, or Dorchester. Justice Barret is a worthy fellow; a
travelling company can’t always command such abilities as mine, so the
accommodation is mutual.’
Martin was assisted out of the mine. He groaned, cried out, and made
many signs of distress; he really was suffering, but he made the most
of his suffering. Jasper stood on one side of him. He would not hear
of Walter sustaining him on the other side; he must have Eve as his
support, and he could only support himself on her by putting his arm
over her shoulders. No objections raised by Jasper were of avail. Watt
was not tall enough. Watt’s steps were irregular. Watt was required to
go on ahead and see that no one was in the way. Martin was certainly a
very handsome man. He wore a broad-brimmed hat, and fair long hair; his
eyes were dark and large, his features regular, his complexion pale and
interesting. Seeing that Jasper looked at his hair with surprise, he
laughed, and leaning his head towards him whispered, ‘Those rascals at
Prince’s Town cropped me like a Puritan. I wear a theatrical wig before
the sex, till my hair grows again.’
Then leaning heavily on Eve, he bent his head to her ear, and made a
complimentary remark which brought the colour into her cheek.
‘Jasper,’ said he, turning his head again to his brother, ‘mind this, I
cannot put up with cyder; I am racked with rheumatism, and I must have
generous drink. I suppose your father’s cellar is well stocked?’ He
addressed Eve. ‘You will see that the poor invalid is not starved, and
has not his vitals wrung with vinegar. I have seen ducks about Morwell;
what do you say to duck with onion stuffing for dinner to-morrow—and
tawny port, eh? I’ll let you both into another confidence. I am not
going to lie on bracken. By hook or by crook you must contrive to bring
me out a feather bed. If I’ve not one, and a bolster and pillow and
blankets—by George and the dragon! I’ll give myself up to the beaks.’
Then he moaned, and squeezed Eve’s shoulder.
‘Green peas,’ he said when the paroxysm was over. ‘Duck and green
peas; I shall dine off that to-morrow—and tell the cook not to forget
the mint. Also some carrot sliced, boiled, then fried in Devonshire
cream, with a little shallot cut very fine and toasted, sprinkled on
top. ‘Sweetheart,’ aside to Eve into her ear, ‘you shall come and have
a snack with me. Remember, it is an invitation. We will not have old
solemn face with us as a mar-fun, shall we?’
The woodman’s hut when reached after a slow ascent was found to be
small, warm, and in good condition. It was so low that a man could not
stand upright in it, but it was sufficiently long to allow him to lie
his length therein. The sides were of wattled oak branches, compacted
with heather and moss, and the roof was of turf. The floor was dry,
deep bedded in fern.
‘It is a dog’s kennel,’ said the dissatisfied Martin; ‘or rather it is
not so good as that. It is the sort of place made for swans and geese
and ducks beside a pond, for shelter when they lay their eggs. It
really is humiliating that I should have to bury my head in a sort of
water-fowl’s sty.’
Eve promised that Martin should have whatever he desired. Jasper had,
naturally, a delicacy in offering anything beyond his own services,
though he knew he could rely on Barbara.
When they had seen the exhausted and anguished martyr gracefully
reposing on the bracken bed, to rest after his painful walk, and had
already left, they were recalled by his voice shouting to Jasper,
regardless of every consideration that should have kept him quiet,
‘Don’t be a fool, Jasper, and shake the bottle. If you break the crust
I won’t drink it.’ And again the call came, ‘Mind the green peas.’
As Jasper and Eve walked back to Morwell neither spoke much, but on
reaching the last gate, Eve said—
‘O, dear Mr. Jasper, do help me to persuade Barbie to let me go! I have
made up my mind; I must and will see the play and hear all that the
manager can tell me about my mother.’
‘I will go to Plymouth, Miss Eve. I must see this Mr. Justice Barret,
and I will learn every particular for you.’
‘That is not enough. I want to see a play. I have never been to a
theatre in all my life.’
‘I will see what your sister says.’
‘I am obstinate. I shall go, whether she says yes or no.’
‘To-morrow is Sunday,’ said Jasper, ‘when no theatre is open.’
‘Besides,’ added Eve, ‘there is poor Martin’s duck and green peas
to-morrow.’
‘And crusted port. If we go, it must be Monday.’