"`Now, look you,' said my brother, `you may talk,
Till, weary with the talk, I answer nay.'"
Alvar, having avoided his brothers after dinner, came back into the
hall, and, sitting down by the fire, lighted a cigarette. As he sat
there in the great chair by himself, the flames flickering on the oak
panels, and the subdued light of the lamp failing to penetrate the dark
corners of the old hall, his face took an expression of melancholy, and
there was an air of loneliness about his solitary figure--a loneliness
which was not merely external. He was perplexed and unhappy, and the
fact that his unhappiness had roused in his breast pride and jealousy
and anger, did not make it less real. He had not come to the point of
owning himself in the wrong, and yet he felt puzzled. He could not see
how he had offended. It was a critical moment. Gentle and affectionate
as Cheriton was, and happy as the relations had hitherto been between
them, Alvar felt himself judged and condemned by his brother's higher
standard, now that he had at last become aware of its existence. He had
never been distressed by Virginia's way of looking at things, she was a
woman, and her view's could not affect his; and for a long time, as has
been said, he had regarded Cheriton's ideas of duty as as much an
idiosyncrasy as his fair complexion, or his affection for Rolla and
Buffer. Now he perceived that Cheriton himself did not so regard them,
but with whatever excuses and limitations, expected them to be binding
on Alvar himself; and Alvar's whole nature kicked against the criticism.
Cheriton had been clear-sighted enough to perceive this, and so judged
it better to draw back; but Alvar, through clouds and darkness, had seen
a glimpse of the light. He _knew_ that Cheriton was right, and the
knowledge irritated him. In a fitful, dark sort of way he tried to
assert his independence and yet justify himself to Cheriton. It was
doubtful whether he would gradually follow the light thus held out to
him, or decidedly turn away from it, and just now his wounded pride
prompted him to the latter course. He would go his own way; and when he
had settled his affairs to his mind, his brothers should own that he was
right. And yet--did he not owe a debt, never to be forgotten, to the
kind hand that had welcomed him, the bright face that had smiled on him,
long ago, on that dreary Christmas Eve? Alvar did _not_ say to himself,
as he perhaps might have done with truth, that he had repaid Cheriton's
early kindness to him tenfold; but he thought of the joyous, active
youth, whose animal spirits, constant activity, and frequent laughter
had been such a new experience to him.
As Alvar thought how great the change had been, his softer feelings
revived, and with them the instinct of caving for his brother's comfort
in a thousand trifling ways. He remembered that Cheriton had hardly
eaten any dinner, and rose, intending to go to him and persuade him to
have some of the chocolate for which he had never lost the liking gained
in Spain. As he moved towards the library the butler came into the
hall, and, with some excitement, told him that Fletcher, his farm
bailiff, wanted to speak to him.
"But it is too late," said Alvar. "He may come to-morrow."
"Indeed, sir, I think it is of consequence. Some ill-disposed persons,
sir, have set one of your ricks on fire, as I understand," said the
butler, with the air of elevation with which the news of any
misdemeanour is usually communicated.
"Tell him, then, to come in," said Alvar, coolly; and Fletcher
appearing, deposed that a certain valuable hayrick, in a field about a
mile from the house, on a small farm called Holywell, which had always
been managed, together with the home farm, by Mr Lester himself, had
been discovered by one of the men going home from work to be on fire.
In spite of all their efforts, a great part had been burnt, and the rest
much injured by the water used to put out the fire.
"And how did the hay catch fire?" asked Alvar, with composure.
"Well, sir, that young lad Fleming was found hanging about behind a
hedge, as soon as we had eyes for anything but the flames; and after
this morning's work, and words that many have heard him drop, the
constable thought it his duty to take him up on suspicion, and he is in
the lock-up at Hazelby."
Fletcher eyed his master as he spoke, to see how the intelligence would
be received.
"Ah, then," said Alvar, "he will be sent to prison."
"The magistrates meet on Thursday, sir--day after to-morrow; but arson
being a criminal offence, he'll be committed for trial at
quarter-sessions," said Fletcher, in an instructive manner. "Wilfully
setting fire to property we name arson, sir; the sentence is
transportation for a term of years, sir."
"It is the passion of revenge," said Alvar, calmly. "It does not
surprise me."
Fletcher looked as if the squire surprised him greatly; but Alvar wished
him good-night, and dismissed him.
"Why--the old squire would have been up at Holywell and counted the very
sticks of hay that was left!" he thought to himself as he withdrew;
while Alvar went and communicated the intelligence to his brothers.