THE RECKONING
The morning was dark, and although the gale had dropped, a raw, cold
wind blew up the valley past Mireside farm, where three or four farmers'
traps and some rusty bicycles stood beneath the projecting roof of a
barn. The bleating of sheep rose from a boggy pasture by the beck, and
lights twinkled as men with lanterns moved about in the gloom. Now and
then somebody shouted and dogs barked as a flock of Herdwicks was driven
to the pens.
In the flagged kitchen, Mrs. Railton and Lucy bustled about by the light
of a lamp and the glow of the fire. The table was covered with used
plates and cups. The men outside had breakfasted, but one or two more
might come and Mrs. Railton wondered when Kit would arrive. She had lain
awake for the most part of the night, thinking about him and the strayed
Herdwicks while she listened to the gale. Now and then Lucy went to the
door and looked up the dale to the glimmering line of foam that marked
the spot where Bleatarn beck came down. A path followed the water-side,
but she could not see men or sheep in the gloom, and if Kit did not come
soon he would be too late.
Railton sat gloomily by the fire. He had had rheumatic fever, and the
damp cold racked his aching joints; besides, there was nothing for him to
do. He had called in his neighbors to value his flock, but he knew, to a
few pounds, what their judgment would be. Hayes Would presently arrive,
and Railton would be asked to pay, or give security for, the shortage,
which was impossible. Hayes knew this and meant to break his lease.
Perhaps the hardest thing was that the shortage was small; if the next
lambing season were good, he could pay. But Hayes would not wait.
Although Railton was too proud to beg for help from his neighbors, he had
gone to the bank. Osborn, however, used the same bank, and it looked as
if Hayes had given the manager a hint, because he refused a loan. Askew
had offered a hundred pounds, but this was not enough, and even if Kit
arrived with the sheep from Swinset, Railton could not find the rest of
the money. However, the arrival of the Herdwicks would make a difference,
and he did not altogether give up hope. By and by he tried to get up, and
sitting down again with a groan, beckoned his wife.
"Martha, you might gan to door."
Mrs. Railton, knowing what he meant, went to the porch. It was
lighter outside and the hillside was growing distinct. She thought
something moved on the path beside the beck, and turned to her
daughter, who had followed.
"What's yon by the water, Lucy?"
Lucy was silent for a few moments and then said quietly, "I think
it's sheep!"
She watched the path. The mist made a puzzling background and her eyes
were getting dazzled; but there was something. Then she heard a chair jar
on the flags and glanced at Railton, who leaned forward.
"Weel?" he said. "Canna you speak? Is neabody coming yet?"
Lucy threw another glance up the dale and her heart beat. An
indistinct row of small dark objects moved along the path, with two
tall figures behind.
"Kit's coming down the beck; he's brought the Herdwicks!" she cried.
"Canny lad!" said Railton, and leaning back limply, wiped his face.
His forehead was wet with sweat, for he was weak and the suspense had
been keen.
The sheep vanished behind a wall, and Lucy began to put fresh food on the
table. Mrs. Railton hung a kettle on a hook above the fire, and then
turned with a start as a girl came into the porch.
"Miss Osborn!" she exclaimed.
Grace advanced calmly, although there was some color in her face, because
she knew the others were surprised that she had come.
"Is Mr. Hayes here?" she asked.
"Mayhappen he's at the pens," Lucy replied. "I thought I heard his car."
"Then I missed him at the cross-roads," said Grace. "I was going to
Allerby, and my father asked me to give him a note when he stopped at
Lawson's." She hesitated, and then resumed impulsively: "Perhaps I
oughtn't to have come on; but I wanted to do so."
They knew what she meant, but nobody answered, and Grace sat down on a
bench by the table.
"Will you give the note to Mr. Hayes? Has Kit Askew brought the
Swinset sheep?"
"He's coming now," said Lucy, picking up the note, and Grace's
eyes sparkled.
"I knew he would bring them; I told him he must."
Lucy went out and Grace asked Railton about his pains. While they talked
somebody shouted outside, and the old man, getting up with an effort,
hobbled to the door.
"Hoad on; dinna close t' pen," a man called. "Here's Kit and t' lot
fra Swinset."
Three of four more shouted and Grace, who had followed Railton, thought
there was a note of triumph in their cries. Then dogs began to bark,
somebody opened a gate, and a flock of Herdwicks, leaping out with wet
fleeces shaking, and hoofs clicking on stone, ran across a shallow pool
where the beck had overflowed.
A few minutes afterwards, Kit came in. He looked tired, his face was
rather haggard, and his clothes were wet. Tom, the shepherd, followed and
sat down by the fire.
"It was nea an easy job, but we manished it," he said. "Swinset sheep is
thief sheep, but they're none a match for Kit's oad dog."
Kit stopped abruptly as he crossed the floor and his heart beat. "Ah!" he
said. "Miss Osborn?"
Grace smiled as she got up and gave him her hand. "Well done! Have you
brought them all? But of course you have!"
"They're in the pen," Kit answered, with some embarrassment.
Then Railton stood up, leaning awkwardly on his stick.
"I've misdoubted your new-fashioned plans, and ken that I was wrang.
There's nea ither lad in aw t' dale could ha' browt Herdwicks doon
Bleatarn ghyll last neet. Weel, t' oad ways for t' oad men, but I'se
niver deny again that the young and new are good."
He sat down and while Mrs. Railton began to bustle about the table Grace
stole away. She knew she ought not to have come, and had done so with a
feeling of rebellion against her father's harshness, although she tried
to persuade herself that Hayes was most to blame. Now she was glad the
note made a pretext for the visit; she had shown the Railtons her
sympathy and had thanked Kit. After all, he had perhaps gone to look for
the sheep because she told him; she rather hoped he had, and rejoiced
with the others at his success.
Grace admitted that she liked Kit Askew. He was resolute but modest, and
had just done a bold deed by which he had nothing to gain. Railton's
praise had moved her, because she knew the dalesfolk's reserve and that
the farmer would not, without good grounds, have spoken as he did.
Moreover, she knew the fells, and it was something of an exploit to bring
the sheep from Swinset in the storm. Kit was, of course, a farmer's son,
but he was plucky and generous; besides, she approved his steady look,
well-balanced, muscular figure, and clean brown skin. Then she blushed
and began to wonder what she would say about her visit to Mireside when
she went home.
In the meantime, Kit ate his breakfast, and soon afterwards Peter Askew
came in and began to talk to Railton. Until the valuation was agreed upon
there was nothing for them to do, and it was some time before the men
returned from the pens. They were plain farmers with rather hard, brown
faces, and stood about the fire in half-embarrassed silence while Hayes
sat down at the table and opened his pocket-book.
"We have made up the tally," he began, and Railton interrupted.
"Counting in the lambs and ewes fra Swinset?"
"They are counted," Hayes replied. "I'll give you particulars of the
different lots."
He read out some figures and then turned to the group by the fire. "I
think we are all agreed?"
"Aw, yis," said one. "It's as near as yan can mak' it, withoot sending
flock to auction."
Hayes turned to Railton. "Are you satisfied?"
"We willunt fratch. Mayhappen two or three lots would fetch anither pound
or two, but we'll ca' it fair."
"Then we must thank these gentlemen," said Hayes, who shut his
pocket-book and took out a document. "As there is some other business and
they have given us some time, we need not keep them."
The men looked at one another and Peter Askew said, "If Railton doesn't
mind, we'd sooner stop."
"Stop if you like," Railton agreed. "You've got me a just reckoning and
you're neebors aw."
"It's not necessary," Hayes objected. "The business we have to transact
is private."
"They ken it," Railton replied in a stubborn voice. "I've bid them stop
and the hoose is mine until Mr. Osborn turns me oot."
"Very well. You know the sum due to the landlord. Are you ready to pay?"
"I canna pay. It's weel you ken."
"Then, can you give security for the debt?"
"I canna and wadn't give it if I could. There's ways a cliver agent can
run up a reckoning, and when you want Mireside I'll have to gan."
"Then, I'm afraid we shall be forced to break the lease and take measures
to recover the sum due."
"Hoad on a minute!" said one of the group, who turned to Railton. "Would
you like to stop?"
"I would like; I've lived at Mireside sin' I was born. There's another
thing: it's none too good a time for a sale o' farming stock, and when
I've paid Osborn, I'll need some money to mak' anither start. Then
may-happen a dry spring wold put me straight."
"It ought to; you're not much behind," Peter agreed. "Weel, you ken I'm
generally willing to back my judgment, and noo it seems there's others
think like me."
"In a sense, the lease does not run out yet," Kit interposed. "It has
rather reached the half-term, because by our custom Railton is entitled
to take it up again for an equal period if he and the landlord agree
about the necessary adjustment. Our leases really cover a double term."
Hayes turned to him with an ironical smile. "Do you know much about
tenant law?" he asked.
"No," said Kit, rather dryly. "I made some studies when I could get the
books, but they didn't take me far. In fact, I imagine that in this
neighborhood there's very little law and much precedent, which has
generally been interpreted for the landlord's advantage. There are old
Barony laws and Manor rights, and my notion is that nobody knows exactly
how he stands. But we'll let this go. If Railton pays his fine, you will
have some trouble to get rid of him."
Hayes agreed and Railton looked up with a puzzled air.
"But I canna pay," he said dully.
The farmer who had interrupted Hayes took out a bulky envelope and
crossed the floor.
"Well," he said, "I think you're wrang. Your friends have been talking
aboot the thing and wadn't like t' see you gan." He gave Railton the
envelope, adding: "It's a loan."
Railton's hand shook as he took out a bundle of bank-notes. "You're good
neebors," he said in a strained voice. "But I dinna think I ought to tak'
your money. There's a risk."
"Not much risk in backing an honest man," the other rejoined, and taking
the notes from Railton gave them to Hayes. "Noo, if you'll count these--"
Hayes' face was inscrutable as he flicked over the notes. "The total's
correct. It's an awkward bundle; a check would have been simpler."
"A check has the drawback that it must be signed," Kit remarked with a
meaning smile. "We're modest folk, and nobody was anxious to write
himself down the leader."
"I see!" said Hayes. "I don't know if you're modest; but you're certainly
cautious."
"Anyhow, we're aw in this," said one of the others.
"So it seems. I hope you won't lose your money," Hayes rejoined dryly and
took out a fountain pen. "Well, here's your receipt, Mr. Railton. I don't
think there is anything more to be said."
He put the receipt on the table and when he went away a farmer laughed.
"O'ad Hayes is quiet and cunning as a hill fox, but my lease has some
time to go and he canna put us aw oot."
Railton tried to thank them, while Mrs. Railton smiled with tears in her
eyes, but the dales folk dislike emotion and as soon as it was possible
the visitors went away.
An hour or two afterwards Grace heard about the matter from the sick wife
of a farmer, whom she had gone to see, and when she went home thought she
had better not confess that she had taken Hayes' note to Mireside. When
Osborn joined his wife and daughter at the tea-table in the hall after
some disappointing shooting, his remarks about his tenants were
rancorous. Grace thought it prudent not to talk and left the table as
soon as she could. When she had gone, Osborn frowned and getting up
savagely kicked a log in the grate.
"I got a nasty knock this morning," he said. "It's not so much that I
mind letting Railton stop; I hate to feel I've been baffled and made the
victim of a plot."
"After all, wasn't it rather Hayes's idea than yours that Railton ought
to go?" Mrs. Osborn ventured.
"It was; there's some comfort in that! You don't like Hayes much."
"I don't know that I dislike him. I'm not sure I trust him."
"Well," said Osborn thoughtfully, "I sometimes feel he's keenest about my
interests when they don't clash with his, and this last affair was a
pretty good example of nepotism. For all that, his nephew would have been
a better tenant and have paid a higher rent." He paused and knitted his
brows angrily as he resumed: "However, it's done with, and one can't
blame Railton for holding on to his lease. What I hate to feel is, the
others plotted to baffle me. The land is mine, but I'd sooner get on well
with my tenants."
"One cannot, so to speak, have it both ways," Mrs. Osborn remarked
timidly.
"Oh, I know what you mean! But I don't think I'm a harsh landlord. If
money was not quite so scarce, I might be generous. In fact, I don't
know that I'd have agreed to turning Railton out if it hadn't been for
Gerald's confounded debts and his allowance at Woolwich. That's a
fresh expense."
Mrs. Osborn thought the expense did not count for much by comparison with
her husband's extravagance; but he had been rather patient and she must
not go too far.
"Well," she said, "you have got Railton's fine."
"It is not a large sum," Osborn answered with a frown. "I need the money,
but in a sense I'd sooner it had not been paid. Anyhow, I'd sooner it had
not been paid like that. The others' confounded organized opposition
annoys me."
"They were forced to subscribe to a fund if they wanted to help."
"Just so; but they probably wouldn't have thought about subscribing if
Askew hadn't suggested it. They're an independent lot and believe in
standing on their own feet. For a time after I got Tarnside, they used a
sensible, give-and-take attitude; it's only recently they've met with
stupid, sullen suspicion."
"Perhaps it was rather a mistake to give Bell the coal yards' lease."
"The coal yards had nothing to do with it," Osborn declared. "The
trouble began earlier, and I've grounds for believing it began at
Ashness. If I was rich enough, I'd buy the Askews out. They know I've no
power over them and take advantage of the situation. The old man was a
bad example for the others, but his son, with his raw communistic
notions, is dangerous. If I could get rid of the meddling fool somehow,
it would be a keen relief."
He came back to the table and picked up a cup of tea. Then, grumbling
that it had gone cold, he put it down noisily and went out.