so, but I shall not reproach you but shall stick to my side of the
bargain, and you must stick to yours."
He built a big fire when he came back to the house and took a glass or
two of spirits also, to warm himself up, for he was chilled to the very
bone. Then, after they had dined, to cheer himself he took another
glass, and then another, and so on till he was very merry, he thought.
Then he would play with his vixen, she encouraging him with her pretty
sportiveness. He got up to catch her then and finding himself unsteady
on his legs, he went down on to all fours. The long and the short of it
is that by drinking he drowned all his sorrow; and then would be a beast
too like his wife, though she was one through no fault of her own, and
could not help it. To what lengths he went then in that drunken humour I
shall not offend my readers by relating, but shall only say that he was
so drunk and sottish that he had a very imperfect recollection of what
had passed when he woke the next morning. There is no exception to the
rule that if a man drink heavily at night the next morning will show the
other side to his nature. Thus with Mr. Tebrick, for as he had been
beastly, merry and a very dare-devil the night before, so on his
awakening was he ashamed, melancholic and a true penitent before his
Creator. The first thing he did when he came to himself was to call out
to God to forgive him for his sin, then he fell into earnest prayer and
continued so for half-an-hour upon his knees. Then he got up and dressed
but continued very melancholy for the whole of the morning. Being in
this mood you may imagine it hurt him to see his wife running about
naked, but he reflected it would be a bad reformation that began with
breaking faith. He had made a bargain and he would stick to it, and so
he let her be, though sorely against his will.
For the same reason, that is because he would stick to his side of the
bargain, he did not require her to sit up at table, but gave her her
breakfast on a dish in the corner, where to tell the truth she on her
side ate it all up with great daintiness and propriety. Nor she did make
any attempt to go out of doors that morning, but lay curled up in an
armchair before the fire dozing. After lunch he took her out, and she
never so much as offered to go near the ducks, but running before him
led him on to take her a longer walk. This he consented to do very much
to her joy and delight. He took her through the fields by the most
unfrequented ways, being much alarmed lest they should be seen by
anyone. But by good luck they walked above four miles across country and
saw nobody. All the way his wife kept running on ahead of him, and then
back to him to lick his hand and so on, and appeared delighted at taking
exercise. And though they startled two or three rabbits and a hare in
the course of their walk she never attempted to go after them, only
giving them a look and then looking back to him, laughing at him as it
were for his warning cry of "Puss! come in, no nonsense now!"
Just when they got home and were going into the porch they came face to
face with an old woman. Mr. Tebrick stopped short in consternation and
looked about for his vixen, but she had run forward without any shyness
to greet her. Then he recognised the intruder, it was his wife's old
nurse.
"What are you doing here, Mrs. Cork?" he asked her.
Mrs. Cork answered him in these words:
"Poor thing. Poor Miss Silvia! It is a shame to let her run about like a
dog. It is a shame, and your own wife too. But whatever she looks like,
you should trust her the same as ever. If you do she'll do her best to
be a good wife to you, if you don't I shouldn't wonder if she did turn
into a proper fox. I saw her, sir, before I left, and I've had no peace
of mind. I couldn't sleep thinking of her. So I've come back to look
after her, as I have done all her life, sir," and she stooped down and
took Mrs. Tebrick by the paw.
Mr. Tebrick unlocked the door and they went in. When Mrs. Cork saw the
house she exclaimed again and again: "The place was a pigstye. They
couldn't live like that, a gentleman must have somebody to look after
him. She would do it. He could trust her with the secret."
Had the old woman come the day before it is likely enough that Mr.
Tebrick would have sent her packing. But the voice of conscience being
woken in him by his drunkenness of the night before he was heartily
ashamed of his own management of the business, moreover the old woman's
words that "it was a shame to let her run about like a dog," moved him
exceedingly. Being in this mood the truth is he welcomed her.
But we may conclude that Mrs. Tebrick was as sorry to see her old Nanny
as her husband was glad. If we consider that she had been brought up
strictly by her when she was a child, and was now again in her power,
and that her old nurse could never be satisfied with her now whatever
she did, but would always think her wicked to be a fox at all, there
seems good reason for her dislike. And it is possible, too, that there
may have been another cause as well, and that is jealousy. We know her
husband was always trying to bring her back to be a woman, or at any
rate to get her to act like one, may she not have been hoping to get him
to be like a beast himself or to act like one? May she not have thought
it easier to change him thus than ever to change herself back into
being a woman? If we think that she had had a success of this kind only
the night before, when he got drunk, can we not conclude that this was
indeed the case, and then we have another good reason why the poor lady
should hate to see her old nurse?
It is certain that whatever hopes Mr. Tebrick had of Mrs. Cork affecting
his wife for the better were disappointed. She grew steadily wilder and
after a few days so intractable with her that Mr. Tebrick again took her
under his complete control.
The first morning Mrs. Cork made her a new jacket, cutting down the
sleeves of a blue silk one of Mrs. Tebrick's and trimming it with swan's
down, and directly she had altered it, put it on her mistress, and
fetching a mirror would have her admire the fit of it. All the time she
waited on Mrs. Tebrick the old woman talked to her as though she were a
baby, and treated her as such, never thinking perhaps that she was
either the one thing or the other, that is either a lady to whom she
owed respect and who had rational powers exceeding her own, or else a
wild creature on whom words were wasted. But though at first she
submitted passively, Mrs. Tebrick only waited for her Nanny's back to be
turned to tear up her pretty piece of handiwork into shreds, and then
ran gaily about waving her brush with only a few ribands still hanging
from her neck.
So it was time after time (for the old woman was used to having her own
way) until Mrs. Cork would, I think, have tried punishing her if she had
not been afraid of Mrs. Tebrick's rows of white teeth, which she often
showed her, then laughing afterwards, as if to say it was only play.
Not content with tearing off the dresses that were fitted on her, one
day Silvia slipped upstairs to her wardrobe and tore down all her old
dresses and made havoc with them, not sparing her wedding dress either,
but tearing and ripping them all up so that there was hardly a shred or
rag left big enough to dress a doll in. On this, Mr. Tebrick, who had
let the old woman have most of her management to see what she could make
of her, took her back under his own control.
He was sorry enough now that Mrs. Cork had disappointed him in the hopes
he had had of her, to have the old woman, as it were, on his hands. True
she could be useful enough in many ways to him, by doing the housework,
the cooking and mending, but still he was anxious since his secret was
in her keeping, and the more now that she had tried her hand with his
wife and failed. For he saw that vanity had kept her mouth shut if she
had won over her mistress to better ways, and her love for her would
have grown by getting her own way with her. But now that she had failed
she bore her mistress a grudge for not being won over, or at the best
was become indifferent to the business, so that she might very readily
blab.
For the moment all Mr. Tebrick could do was to keep her from going into
Stokoe to the village, where she would meet all her old cronies and
where there were certain to be any number of inquiries about what was
going on at Rylands and so on. But as he saw that it was clearly beyond
his power, however vigilant he might be, to watch over the old woman and
his wife, and to prevent anyone from meeting with either of them, he
began to consider what he could best do.
Since he had sent away his servants and the gardener, giving out a story
of having received bad news and his wife going away to London where he
would join her, their probably going out of England and so on, he knew
well enough that there would be a great deal of talk in the
neighbourhood.
And as he had now stayed on, contrary to what he had said, there would
be further rumour. Indeed, had he known it, there was a story already
going round the country that his wife had run away with Major Solmes,
and that he was gone mad with grief, that he had shot his dogs and his
horses and shut himself up alone in the house and would speak with no
one. This story was made up by his neighbours not because they were
fanciful or wanted to deceive, but like most tittle-tattle to fill a
gap, as few like to confess ignorance, and if people are asked about
such or such a man they must have something to say, or they suffer in
everybody's opinion, are set down as dull or "out of the swim." In this
way I met not long ago with someone who, after talking some little while
and not knowing me or who I was, told me that David Garnett was dead,
and died of being bitten by a cat after he had tormented it. He had long
grown a nuisance to his friends as an exorbitant sponge upon them, and
the world was well rid of him.
Hearing this story of myself diverted me at the time, but I fully
believe it has served me in good stead since. For it set me on my guard
as perhaps nothing else would have done, against accepting for true all
floating rumour and village gossip, so that now I am by second nature a
true sceptic and scarcely believe anything unless the evidence for it is
conclusive. Indeed I could never have got to the bottom of this history
if I had believed one tenth part of what I was told, there was so much
of it that was either manifestly false and absurd, or else contradictory
to the ascertained facts. It is therefore only the bare bones of the
story which you will find written here, for I have rejected all the
flowery embroideries which would be entertaining reading enough, I
daresay, for some, but if there be any doubt of the truth of a thing it
is poor sort of entertainment to read about in my opinion.
To get back to our story: Mr. Tebrick having considered how much the
appetite of his neighbours would be whetted to find out the mystery by
his remaining in that part of the country, determined that the best
thing he could do was to remove.
After some time turning the thing over in his mind, he decided that no
place would be so good for his purpose as old Nanny's cottage. It was
thirty miles away from Stokoe, which in the country means as far as
Timbuctoo does to us in London. Then it was near Tangley, and his lady
having known it from her childhood would feel at home there, and also it
was utterly remote, there being no village near it or manor house other
than Tangley Hall, which was now untenanted for the greater part of the
year. Nor did it mean imparting his secret to others, for there was only
Mrs. Cork's son, a widower, who being out at work all day would be
easily outwitted, the more so as he was stone deaf and of a slow and
saturnine disposition. To be sure there was little Polly, Mrs. Cork's
granddaughter, but either Mr. Tebrick forgot her altogether, or else
reckoned her as a mere baby and not to be thought of as a danger.
He talked the thing over with Mrs. Cork, and they decided upon it out of
hand. The truth is the old woman was beginning to regret that her love
and her curiosity had ever brought her back to Rylands, since so far she
had got much work and little credit by it.
When it was settled, Mr. Tebrick disposed of the remaining business he
had at Rylands in the afternoon, and that was chiefly putting out his
wife's riding horse into the keeping of a farmer near by, for he thought
he would drive over with his own horse, and the other spare horse tandem
in the dogcart.
The next morning they locked up the house and they departed, having
first secured Mrs. Tebrick in a large wicker hamper where she would be
tolerably comfortable. This was for safety, for in the agitation of
driving she might jump out, and on the other hand, if a dog scented her
and she were loose, she might be in danger of her life. Mr. Tebrick
drove with the hamper beside him on the front seat, and spoke to her
gently very often.
She was overcome by the excitement of the journey and kept poking her
nose first through one crevice, then through another, turning and
twisting the whole time and peeping out to see what they were passing.
It was a bitterly cold day, and when they had gone about fifteen miles
they drew up by the roadside to rest the horses and have their own
luncheon, for he dared not stop at an inn. He knew that any living
creature in a hamper, even if it be only an old fowl, always draws
attention; there would be several loafers most likely who would notice
that he had a fox with him, and even if he left the hamper in the cart
the dogs at the inn would be sure to sniff out her scent. So not to take
any chances he drew up at the side of the road and rested there, though
it was freezing hard and a north-east wind howling.
He took down his precious hamper, unharnessed his two horses, covered
them with rugs and gave them their corn. Then he opened the basket and
let his wife out. She was quite beside herself with joy, running hither
and thither, bouncing up on him, looking about her and even rolling over
on the ground. Mr. Tebrick took this to mean that she was glad at making
this journey and rejoiced equally with her. As for Mrs. Cork, she sat
motionless on the back seat of the dogcart well wrapped up, eating her
sandwiches, but would not speak a word. When they had stayed there
half-an-hour Mr. Tebrick harnessed the horses again, though he was so
cold he could scarcely buckle the straps, and put his vixen in her
basket, but seeing that she wanted to look about her, he let her tear
away the osiers with her teeth till she had made a hole big enough for
her to put her head out of.
They drove on again and then the snow began to come down and that in
earnest, so that he began to be afraid they would never cover the
ground. But just after nightfall they got in, and he was content to
leave unharnessing the horses and baiting them to Simon, Mrs. Cork's
son. His vixen was tired by then, as well as he, and they slept
together, he in the bed and she under it, very contentedly.
The next morning he looked about him at the place and found the thing
there that he most wanted, and that was a little walled-in garden where
his wife could run in freedom and yet be in safety.
After they had had breakfast she was wild to go out into the snow. So
they went out together, and he had never seen such a mad creature in all
his life as his wife was then. For she ran to and fro as if she were
crazy, biting at the snow and rolling in it, and round and round in
circles and rushed back at him fiercely as if she meant to bite him. He
joined her in the frolic, and began snowballing her till she was so wild
that it was all he could do to quiet her again and bring her indoors for
luncheon. Indeed with her gambollings she tracked the whole garden over
with her feet; he could see where she had rolled in the snow and where
she had danced in it, and looking at those prints of her feet as they
went in, made his heart ache, he knew not why.
They passed the first day at old Nanny's cottage happily enough, without
their usual bickerings, and this because of the novelty of the snow
which had diverted them. In the afternoon he first showed his wife to
little Polly, who eyed her very curiously but hung back shyly and seemed
a good deal afraid of the fox. But Mr. Tebrick took up a book and let
them get acquainted by themselves, and presently looking up saw that
they had come together and Polly was stroking his wife, patting her and
running her fingers through her fur. Presently she began talking to the
fox, and then brought her doll in to show her so that very soon they
were very good playmates together. Watching the two gave Mr. Tebrick
great delight, and in particular when he noticed that there was
something very motherly in his vixen. She was indeed far above the child
in intelligence and restrained herself too from any hasty action. But
while she seemed to wait on Polly's pleasure yet she managed to give a
twist to the game, whatever it was, that never failed to delight the
little girl. In short, in a very little while, Polly was so taken with
her new playmate that she cried when she was parted from her and wanted
her always with her. This disposition of Mrs. Tebrick's made Mrs. Cork
more agreeable than she had been lately either to the husband or the
wife.
Three days after they had come to the cottage the weather changed, and
they woke up one morning to find the snow gone, and the wind in the
south, and the sun shining, so that it was like the first beginning of
spring.
Mr. Tebrick let his vixen out into the garden after breakfast, stayed
with her awhile, and then went indoors to write some letters.
When he got out again he could see no sign of her anywhere, so that he
ran about bewildered, calling to her. At last he spied a mound of fresh
earth by the wall in one corner of the garden, and running thither found
that there was a hole freshly dug seeming to go under the wall. On this
he ran out of the garden quickly till he came to the other side of the
wall, but there was no hole there, so he concluded that she was not yet
got through. So it proved to be, for reaching down into the hole he felt
her brush with his hand, and could hear her distinctly working away with
her claws. He called to her then, saying: "Silvia, Silvia, why do you do
this? Are you trying to escape from me? I am your husband, and if I keep
you confined it is to protect you, not to let you run into danger. Show
me how I can make you happy and I will do it, but do not try to escape
from me. I love you, Silvia; is it because of that that you want to fly
from me to go into the world where you will be in danger of your life
always? There are dogs everywhere and they all would kill you if it were
not for me. Come out, Silvia, come out."
But Silvia would not listen to him, so he waited there silent. Then he
spoke to her in a different way, asking her had she forgot the bargain
she made with him that she would not go out alone, but now when she had
all the liberty of a garden to herself would she wantonly break her
word? And he asked her, were they not married? And had she not always
found him a good husband to her? But she heeded this neither until
presently his temper getting somewhat out of hand he cursed her
obstinacy and told her if she would be a damned fox she was welcome to
it, for his part he could get his own way. She had not escaped yet. He
would dig her out for he still had time, and if she struggled put her in
a bag.
These words brought her forth instantly and she looked at him with as
much astonishment as if she knew not what could have made him angry.
Yes, she even fawned on him, but in a good-natured kind of way, as if
she were a very good wife putting up wonderfully with her husband's
temper.
These airs of hers made the poor gentleman (so simple was he) repent his
outburst and feel most ashamed.
But for all that when she was out of the hole he filled it up with great
stones and beat them in with a crowbar so she should find her work at
that point harder than before if she was tempted to begin it again.
In the afternoon he let her go again into the garden but sent little
Polly with her to keep her company. But presently on looking out he saw
his vixen had climbed up into the limbs of an old pear tree and was
looking over the wall, and was not so far from it but she might jump
over it if she could get a little further.
Mr. Tebrick ran out into the garden as quick as he could, and when his
wife saw him it seemed she was startled and made a false spring at the
wall, so that she missed reaching it and fell back heavily to the ground
and lay there insensible. When Mr. Tebrick got up to her he found her
head was twisted under her by her fall and the neck seemed to be broken.
The shock was so great to him that for some time he could not do
anything, but knelt beside her turning her limp body stupidly in his
hands. At length he recognised that she was indeed dead, and beginning
to consider what dreadful afflictions God had visited him with, he
blasphemed horribly and called on God to strike him dead, or give his
wife back to him.
"Is it not enough," he cried, adding a foul blasphemous oath, "that you
should rob me of my dear wife, making her a fox, but now you must rob me
of that fox too, that has been my only solace and comfort in this
affliction?"
Then he burst into tears and began wringing his hands and continued
there in such an extremity of grief for half-an-hour that he cared
nothing, neither what he was doing, nor what would become of him in the
future, but only knew that his life was ended now and he would not live
any longer than he could help.
All this while the little girl Polly stood by, first staring, then
asking him what had happened, and lastly crying with fear, but he never
heeded her nor looked at her but only tore his hair, sometimes shouted
at God, or shook his fist at Heaven. So in a fright Polly opened the
door and ran out of the garden.
At length worn out, and as it were all numb with his loss, Mr. Tebrick
got up and went within doors, leaving his dear fox lying near where she
had fallen.
He stayed indoors only two minutes and then came out again with a razor
in his hand intending to cut his own throat, for he was out of his
senses in this first paroxysm of grief. But his vixen was gone, at
which he looked about for a moment bewildered, and then enraged,
thinking that somebody must have taken the body.
The door of the garden being open he ran straight through it. Now this
door, which had been left ajar by Polly when she ran off, opened into a
little courtyard where the fowls were shut in at night; the woodhouse
and the privy also stood there. On the far side of it from the garden
gate were two large wooden doors big enough when open to let a cart
enter, and high enough to keep a man from looking over into the yard.
When Mr. Tebrick got into the yard he found his vixen leaping up at
these doors, and wild with terror, but as lively as ever he saw her in
his life. He ran up to her but she shrank away from him, and would then
have dodged him too, but he caught hold of her. She bared her teeth at
him but he paid no heed to that, only picked her straight up into his
arms and took her so indoors. Yet all the while he could scarce believe
his eyes to see her living, and felt her all over very carefully to find
if she had not some bones broken. But no, he could find none. Indeed it
was some hours before this poor silly gentleman began to suspect the
truth, which was that his vixen had practised a deception upon him, and
all the time he was bemoaning his loss in such heartrending terms, she
was only shamming death to run away directly she was able. If it had not
been that the yard gates were shut, which was a mere chance, she had got
her liberty by that trick. And that this was only a trick of hers to
sham dead was plain when he had thought it over. Indeed it is an old and
time-honoured trick of the fox. It is in Aesop and a hundred other
writers have confirmed it since. But so thoroughly had he been deceived
by her, that at first he was as much overcome with joy at his wife still
being alive, as he had been with grief a little while before, thinking
her dead.
He took her in his arms, hugging her to him and thanking God a dozen
times for her preservation. But his kissing and fondling her had very
little effect now, for she did not answer him by licking or soft looks,
but stayed huddled up and sullen, with her hair bristling on her neck
and her ears laid back every time he touched her. At first he thought
this might be because he had touched some broken bone or tender place
where she had been hurt, but at last the truth came to him.