BY THE FIRE.
MARTIN was weary of the woodman’s hut, as he was before weary of the
mine. Watt had hard work to pacify him. His rheumatism was better.
Neither Jasper nor Walter could decide how far the attack was real and
how far simulated. Probably he really suffered, and exaggerated his
sufferings to provoke sympathy.
Whilst the weather was summery he endured his captivity, for he could
lie in the sun on a hot rock and smoke or whistle, with his hands in
his pockets, and Martin loved to lounge and be idle; but when the
weather changed, he became restive, ill-humoured, and dissatisfied.
What aggravated his discontent was a visit from Barbara, whom he found
it impossible to impress with admiration for his manly beauty and pity
for his sorrows.
‘That girl is a beast,’ he said to Walter, when she was gone. ‘I
really could hardly be civil to her. A perfect Caliban, devoid of
taste and feeling. Upon my word some of our fellow-beings are without
humanity. I could see through that person at a glance. She is made up
of selfishness. If there be one quality most repulsive to me, that is
it—selfishness. I do not believe the creature cast a thought upon me,
my wants, my sufferings, my peril. Watt, if she shows her ugly face
here again, stand against the door, and say, “Not at home.”’
‘Dear Martin, we will go as soon as you are well enough to leave.’
‘Whither are we to go? I cannot join old Barret and his wife and
monkeys and babies and walking-sticks of actors, as long as he is in
the county. I would go to Bristol or Bath or Cheltenham if I had money,
but these miserly Jordans will not find me any. They want to drive me
away without first lining my pocket. I know what was meant by those
cold slabs of mutton, to-day. It meant, go away. I wait till they give
me money.’
‘Dear Martin, you must not be inconsiderate.’
‘I glory in it. What harm comes of it? It is your long-headed, prudent
prophets who get into scrapes and can’t get out of them again. I never
calculate; I act on impulse, and that always brings me right.’
‘Not always, Martin, or you would not be here.’
‘O, yes, even here. When the impulse comes on me to go, I shall go, and
you will find I go at the right time. If that Miss Jordan comes here
again with her glum ugly mug, I shall be off. Or Jasper, looking as if
the end of the world were come. I can’t stand that. See how cleverly I
got away from Prince’s Town.’
‘I helped you, Martin.’
‘I do not pretend that I did all myself. I did escape, and a
brilliantly executed manœuvre it was. I thought I was caught in a cleft
stick when I dropped on the party of beaks at the “Hare and Hounds,”
but see how splendidly I got away. I do believe, Watt, I’ve missed my
calling, and ought to have been a general in the British army.’
‘But, dear Martin, generals have to scheme other things beside running
away.’
‘None of your impudence, you jackanapes. I tell you I do _not_ scheme.
I act on the spur of the moment. If I had lain awake a week planning I
could have done nothing better. The inspiration comes to me the moment
I require it. Your vulgar man always does the wrong thing when an
emergency arises. By heaven, Watt! this is a dog’s life I am leading,
and not worth living. I am shivering. The damp worms into one’s bones.
I shall go out on the Rock.’
‘O, Martin, stay here. It is warmer in this hut. A cold wind blows.’
‘It is midwinter here, and can’t be more Siberia-like out there. I am
sick of the smell of dry leaves. I am tired of looking at withered
sticks. The monotony of this place is unendurable. I wish I were back
in prison.’
‘I will play my violin to amuse you,’ said the boy.
‘Curse your fiddle, I do not want to have that squeaking in my ears;
besides, it is sure to be out of tune with the damp, and screw up as
you may, before you have gone five bars it is flat again. Why has Eve
not been here to tell me of what she saw in Plymouth?’
‘My dear Martin, you must consider. She dare not come here. You cannot
keep open house, and send round cards of invitation, with “Mr. Martin
Babb at home.”’
‘I don’t care. I shall go on the Rock, and have a fire.’
‘A fire!’ exclaimed Watt, aghast.
‘Why not? I am cold, and my rheumatism is worse. I won’t have rheumatic
fever for you or all the Jordans and Jaspers in Devonshire.’
‘I entreat you, be cautious. Remember you are in hiding. You have
already been twice caught.’
‘Because on both occasions I ran into the hands of the police. The
first time I attempted no concealment. I did not think my father would
have been such a—such a pig as to send them after me. I’ll tell you
what, my boy, there is no generosity and honour anywhere. They are like
the wise teeth that come, not to be used, but to go, and go painfully.’
Then he burst out of the hut, and groaning and cursing scrambled
through the coppice to the Raven Rock.
Walter knew too well that when his brother had resolved on anything,
however outrageous, it was in vain for him to attempt dissuasion. He
therefore accompanied him up the steep slope and through the bushes,
lending him a hand, and drawing the boughs back before him, till he
reached the platform of rock.
The signs of autumn were apparent everywhere. Two days before they
had not been visible. The bird-cherry was turning; the leaves of the
dogwood were royal purple, and those at the extremity of the branches
were carmine. Here and there umbelliferous plants had turned white; all
the sap was withdrawn, they were bleached at the prospect of the coming
decay of nature. The heather had donned its pale flowers; but there was
no brightness in the purples and pinks, they were the purples and pinks
not of sunflush, but of chill. A scent of death pervaded the air. The
foxgloves had flowered up their long spires to the very top, and only
at the very top did a feeble bell or two bloom whilst the seeds ripened
below. No butterflies, no moths even were about. The next hot day the
scarlet admirals would be out, but now they hung with folded wings
downwards, exhibiting pepper and salt and no bright colour under the
leaves, waiting and shivering.
‘Everything is doleful,’ said Martin, standing on the platform and
looking round. ‘Only one thing lacks to make the misery abject, and
that is rain. If the clouds drop, and the water leaks into my den, I’ll
give myself up, and secure a dry cell somewhere—then Jasper and the
Jordans may make the best of it. I’m not going to become a confirmed
invalid to save Jasper’s pride, and help on his suit to that dragon of
Wantley. If he thinks it against his interest that I should be in gaol,
I’ll go back there. I’m not eager to have that heap of superciliousness
as a sister-in-law, Walter, so collect sticks and fern that I may have
a fire.’
‘Martin, do not insist on this; the light and smoke will be seen.’
‘Who is there to see? This rock is only visible from Cornwall, and
there is no bridge over the Tamar for some miles up the river. Who will
care to make a journey of some hours to ask why a fire has been kindled
on the Raven Rock? Look behind, the trees screen this terrace, no one
at Morwell will see. The hills and rocks fold on the river and hide us
from all habitable land. Do not oppose me; I will have a fire.’
‘O, Martin,’ said the boy, ‘you throw on me all the responsibility
of caring for your safety, and you make my task a hard one by your
thoughtlessness.’
‘I am so unselfish,’ said Martin gravely. ‘I never do consider myself.
I can’t help it, such is my nature.’
Walter reluctantly complied with his brother’s wish. The boy had lost
his liveliness. The mischief and audacity were driven out of him by the
responsibility that weighed on him.
Abundance of fuel was to be had. The summer had been hot, and little
rain had fallen. Wood had been cut the previous winter, and bundles of
faggots lay about, that had not been removed and stacked.
Before long the fire was blazing, and Martin crouched at it warming his
hands and knees. His face relaxed whilst that of Walter became lined
with anxiety. As he was thus seated, Jasper came on him carrying a
blanket. He was dismayed at what his brother had done, and reproached
him.
Martin shrugged his shoulders. ‘It is very well for you in a dry
house, on a feather bed and between blankets, but very ill for poor
me, condemned to live like a wild beast. You should have felt my hands
before I had a fire to thaw them at, they were like the cold mutton I
had for my dinner.’
‘Martin, you must put that fire out. You have acted with extreme
indiscretion.’
‘Spare me your reproaches; I know I am indiscreet. It is my nature, as
it lies in the nature of a lion to be noble, and of a dog to be true.’
‘Really,’ said Jasper, hotly, disturbed out of his usual equanimity by
the folly of his brother, ‘really, Martin, you are most aggravating.
You put me to great straits to help you, and strain to the utmost my
relations to the Jordan family. I do all I can—more than I ought—for
you, and you wantonly provoke danger. Who but you would have had
the temerity to return to this neighbourhood after your escape and
my accident! Then—why do you remain here? I cannot believe in your
illness. Your lack of common consideration is the cause of incessant
annoyance to your friends. That fire shall go out.’ He went to it
resolutely, and kicked it apart, and threw some of the flaming oak
sticks over the edge of the precipice.
‘I hope you are satisfied now,’ said Martin sulkily. ‘You have spoiled
my pleasure, robbed me of my only comfort, and have gained only
this—that I wash my hands of you, and will leave this place to-night. I
will no longer remain near you—inhuman, unbrotherly as you are.’
‘I am very glad to hear that you are going,’ answered Jasper. ‘You
shall have my horse. That horse is my own, and he will carry you away.
Send Walter for it when you like. I will see that the stable-door is
open, and the saddle and bridle handy. The horse is in a stable near
the first gate, away from the house, and can be taken unobserved.’
‘You are mightily anxious to be rid of me,’ sneered Martin. ‘And this
is a brother!’
‘I had brought you a blanket off my own bed, because I supposed you
were cold.’
‘I will not have it,’ said Martin sharply. ‘If you shiver for want of
your blanket I shall be blamed. Your heart will overflow with gall
against poor me. Keep your blanket to curl up in yourself. I shall
leave to-night. I have too much proper pride to stay where I am not
wanted, with a brother who begrudges me a scrap of fire.’
Jasper held out his hand. ‘I must go back at once,’ he said. ‘If you
leave to-night it may be years before we meet again. Come, Martin, you
know me better than your words imply. Do not take it ill that I have
destroyed your fire. I think only of your safety. Give me your hand,
brother; your interest lies at my heart.’
Martin would not touch the proffered hand, he folded his arms and
turned away. Jasper looked at him, long and sadly, but Martin would not
relent, and he left.
‘Get the embers together again,’ ordered Martin. ‘Under the Scottish
fir are lots of cones full of resin; pile them on the fire, and make a
big blaze. Let Jasper see it. I will show him that I am not going to be
beaten by his insolence.’
‘He may have been rough, but he was right,’ said Watt.
‘Oh! you also turn against me! A viper I have cherished in my bosom!’
The boy sighed; he dare no longer refuse, and he sorrowfully gathered
the scattered fire together, fanned the embers, applied to them bits
of dry fern, then fir cones, and soon a brilliant jet of yellow flame
leaped aloft.
Martin raised himself to his full height that the fire might illuminate
him from head to foot, and so he stood, with his arms folded, thinking
what a fine fellow he was, and regretting that no appreciative eye was
there to see him.
‘What a splendid creature man is!’ said he to himself or Walter. ‘So
great in himself; and yet, how little and mean he becomes through
selfishness! I pity Jasper—from my heart I pity him. I am not
angry—only sorry.’