OF INDIGNATION, A WOOD, AND A GIPSY
It was at this juncture that the Major became aware of a tall, buxom,
not to say strapping country-wench approaching down the lane,
sun-bonnet on head and large basket on comely arm; one garbed as all
maids should be, in simple gown that allowed free play to vigorous,
young limbs; one who moved with step blithe and purposeful, doubtless
busied upon some useful and womanly duty as all women should be.
So thought the Major as he watched the approach of this rustic lass,
comparing her in her naturalness and simplicity to wood-nymphs and
dryads and goddesses of groves and fountains, and altogether to the
disadvantage of patched and powdered beauties in their coquettish
frills and furbelows. Sighing again, he turned to go back.
"God bless your honour and, so please your honour, a humble good day to
your honour!" said a voice.
The Major stopped, wheeled, and dropped his cane:
"Betty!" he exclaimed.
"John!" said she. But, meeting his look, flushed and drooped her
lashes, whereupon he fell to stammering.
"I--I was but now--'Tis strange but I was----"
"Thinking of me, Major John?"
"Indeed!" he answered.
"Kindly, Major Jack?"
"Pray," he enquired, "pray--er--are you alone?"
"Momentarily!" she sighed. "But Sir Benjamin Tripp is somewhere about,
the Marquis is not far hence and Mr. Marchdale mopes at hand----"
"You mean they seek you----?"
"Most pertinaciously, sir, but quite vainly by reason that I can climb."
"Climb?" repeated the Major, staring, "pray what?"
"A wall, sir."
"Wall?" he murmured.
"Two, sir. I had to run away. They're dear creatures, to be sure, but
the Marquis persists in recounting pedigrees of horses and dogs, Sir
Benjamin rhapsodises in metre and poor Mr. Marchdale, being very young,
is so egregiously in love with me that I climb and clamber over walls
and here I am. Pray aid me over this stile ere they find me."
The Major's aid was so energetic and prompt that Lady Betty was over
the stile and walking beside him, flushed and a little breathless all
in a moment.
"You are forgetting your fine cane, sir," said she in a small voice.
"Aye, to be sure!" And flushing, he picked it up rather hastily.
"And now prithee my basket--'twould never suit so fine a gentleman."
The Major flushed, seeing which she added: "Though indeed I do like you
infinitely so."
"And I," said he impulsively, his keen, bright glance appraising her
from head to foot, "I find you infinitely more--more--er--womanly as
'twere--but pray why so large a basket?"
"To carry eggs, sir, and butter and such. Some of your tenants are
miserably poor, Major John."
"Hum!" said he, thoughtfully. "And you buy them butter----"
"I make them butter, sir."
"Ha--do you, by Jove!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining.
"I make them butter with the aid of certain polite, perspiring, and I
greatly fear, profane gentlemen." The Major's smooth brow grew ruffled.
"Meaning whom, mam?"
"Well, to-day 'twas Sir Benjamin Tripp, the Marquis, Sir Jasper Denholm
and Mr. Marchdale. To see Sir Benjamin churning is--O 'tis rare, 'tis
killing!" And my lady stood still the better to laugh.
"Sir Benjamin Tripp--churning?" exclaimed the Major.
"So hot--so scant o' breath!" she gurgled. "And his ruffles
flip-flopping and his fine peruke all askew. To-morrow 'twill be Lord
Alvaston and Captain West and--O 'twill be pure!" and once again she
trilled with laughter until, beholding the Major's expression, she
stopped breathless and wiping her eyes on the back of slender hand like
any rustic lass. "Doth it not strike you as comical?" she demanded.
"O vastly!" said he, and sighed.
"If you had but seen Sir Benjamin, poor, dear, good creature--he did so
blow and pant!"
"Extreme diverting!" admitted the Major and sighed again.
"And pray, Major d'Arcy, do you always utter deep-fetched and doleful
breathings when amused? Smile, sir, this instant!" The Major obeyed,
whereupon she shook critical head: "'Twas much like a grimace caused by
an extreme anguish, but 'twill serve for one so preternaturally grave
as Major d'Arcy."
"Do I seem so grave, indeed?" he questioned wistfully.
"As the tomb, sir!" The Major blinked: walked a dozen yards or so in
silence and sighed deeper than ever, strove to disguise it in a cough
and failing, stood rueful. My lady stopped and faced him:
"Major John--Major d'Arcy, sir, look at me. Now prithee why all this
windy woe, this sighful sorrow--what evil thought harrows your lofty
serenity to-day?"
"I think," said he, hands tight-clenched upon his cane, "I am haunted
by a certain evening in the Mall!"
"O? Indeed? The Mall?"
"Aye, my lady, the Mall." Slowly, slowly her red lips curved, her gaze
sank beneath his.
"You mean, I think, when I wore----"
"I do!" said he hastily.
"So you have not forgot?"
"Would to heaven I might!"
"And prithee why?"
"'Twas so unworthy your proud womanhood!"
My lady flushed, averted her head and walked on in a dignified silence
until they reached the rustic bridge; here she paused to look down into
the stilly pool.
"Heigho!" she sighed. The Major was silent and seeing how he frowned
with his big chin out-thrust, she bit her lip and dimpled.
"The moon will be at the full to-night!" Still he didn't speak. "And
when the moon is full I always feel excessive feminine and vapourish!"
The Major, staring into the gloomy water, gloomed also. "And when I
feel vapourish, chiding nauseates me and reproaches give me the
megrims."
"I would not reproach you, child----"
"Ancient sir, I am not a child. And you do reproach me--you said 'twas
unworthy!"
"Aye, I said so," he admitted, keeping his gaze bent upon the sleepy
pool, "I said so, my lady, because I would have you in all things most
noble, most high and far removed 'bove fear of reproach. Because I
would have you worthy of all reverence."
"Alas!" she sighed, "here is a something trying role for a poor maid
who chances to be very human flesh and blood!"
"And yet," said he in his grave, gentle voice, "knowing you flesh and
blood, in my thought you were very nigh to divinity also."
"Were?" she questioned softly. "Is my poor divinity lost so soon?"
And her arm touched his upon the handrail. The Major sighed and
immediately the arm withdrew itself and, before he could speak, she
laughed, though her merriment rang a little hollow. "And forsooth is
it so deep a sin, so black a crime to have ventured abroad in my
brother's clothes? And if it were, pray who is Major d'Arcy to sit in
judgment? Am I dishonoured, smirched beyond redemption----"
"No--no----" he exclaimed.
"So stained, so steeped in depravity----"
"Ah no indeed!" he cried, "indeed madam--ah, Betty it was but that it
seemed so--so----"
"So what, sir?"
"So--so--unmaidenly."
My lady Betty caught her breath in a gasp, her cheeks glowed hot and
angry and she fronted him with head upflung.
"How dare you--how dare you think me so--speak me so!" Even as she
spoke, proud colour ebbed, hot anger was ousted by cold disdain and he
blenched before the scorn of her eyes; he grew humble, abject, reached
out hands in supplication:
"My lady I--I--God knows I would not hurt you! Indeed I did but
mean----"
"Enough sir, 'tis sufficient!" said she disdainfully. "Major d'Arcy
doth pronounce me unmaidenly--O, 'tis all-sufficing!" and, as she
turned her back on him, her very garments seemed to radiate scorn
unutterable.
"Stay!" he pleaded, as she moved away. "Ah, never leave me so--do but
let me explain--hear me!"
"Be silent, sir!" she commanded, speaking over her shoulder, "I've
heard enough, aye--enough for a lifetime!" And stepping from the
bridge she turned aside into the wood; but there, his hand upon her arm
arrested her.
"Child, whither go you?"
"Whereso I will, sir. A fair, good even to you and--good-bye!"
"Not through the wood, madam! There be rough folk about, the Sergeant
tells me--gipsies, tramping folk and the like."
"O sir," she sighed, "I may prefer such to Major--Prudery--d'Arcy!" and
setting aside a bramble-shoot she went on into the wood, and, when he
would have followed, checked him with an imperious gesture. "Come no
further, sir, here be thorns to spoil gay finery--and besides," she
added, glancing back at him with merciless eyes, "your sober airs annoy
me, your lofty virtue is an offence--pray suffer me to go alone!"
The Major flushed painfully, took off his hat and bowed.
"As you will, madam!" said he and, stepping aside, watched her go until
the leaves had hidden her from sight. Then, putting on his hat, he
took a score or so of slow strides away and as many slow strides back
again, until, being come some little way in among the trees, he halted
to listen. Faint and far he caught a rustle, a leafy stirring that
told where she moved and, guided by this he began to follow into the
depths of the wood. Suddenly he paused to listen intently, cane
grasped in powerful fist, then hurried on at speed, choosing his way
with quick, soldierly eye and making very little sound for all his
haste and so reached a little clearing.
She stood, back set to a tree, hands gripping her basket, head erect
and defiant but in her wide eyes a sickening fear as she fronted a
tall, burly, gipsy-looking fellow who carried a knobby bludgeon and
whose eyes, heedful and deliberate, roved over her trembling loveliness
and whose hairy lips curled as he slowly advanced. Then the Major
stepped out from the leaves, his gait unhurried and limping a little as
was usual. But at sight of him my lady, uttering a gasp, let fall her
basket almost forgetting shuddering fear in amazement as she beheld the
face that looked out between the precise curls of the Major's great
periwig. The gipsy fellow saw it also, and, reading its expression
aright, sprang immediately to a defensive posture and spoke between a
growl and a whine:
"What now, master? There be no harm done, sir--nought but a bit o'
pleasantry wi' a country wench!" The Major neither spoke nor altered
his leisurely advance until, coming within striking distance, he leapt.
Heavy bludgeon whirled, long cane whizzed and the fellow, uttering a
hoarse gasp, dropped his weapon and gave back, clutching at useless,
dangling limb. But the Major's long arm rose and fell, beating the man
to his knees, to his face; even then, as the fellow writhed helpless,
those merciless blows rained down tirelessly until a voice cried:
"Don't! Don't! Ah, Major John--you'll kill him!" The Major stepped
back, panting a little.
"Kill him," he repeated gently, "why no, mam, no--his sort take a vast
deal of killing. I would but give him such a--er--reminder as shall
not fade awhile."
"Nay sir, no more, I beg! And see, your cane is broke----"
"Why so 'tis!" said the Major and tossing it aside he picked up the
knobby bludgeon, seeing which Lady Betty caught his arm and held it:
"Nay, you are cruel--cruel! You shall not, I say. He has enough!"
"Aye, perhaps he has," said the Major, "and 'twould be distressing for
you of course, though when one must fight 'tis as well to be thorough."
Saying which he resettled his ruffles, tucked the bludgeon under his
arm and bowed. "Pray let us be going, madam!" My lady hesitated and
glanced at her assailant's prostrate figure. "A few bruises, mam, he
will be well enough in an hour or so--though somewhat sore. And now,
with your leave I'll see you out o' the wood, evening falls apace and
the Sergeant was right, it seems." Then he picked up her basket and
motioning her to lead the way, followed her through the wood.
For once in her twenty-two years of life my lady Betty felt herself at
a disadvantage; twice she turned to speak but he, walking behind with
head bowed, seemed utterly oblivious of her, wherefore she held her
peace and threw up proud head disdainfully. And yet he had saved her
and--from what? At this she shivered and disdain was forgotten. Still
it is difficult to express gratitude with proper dignity to a man upon
a narrow, brier-set path especially when that man keeps himself
perseveringly behind one. So my lady waited until they should be out
of the hateful wood.
Thus they went in a silence unbroken until they came out in a bye-lane
that gave upon the highway. Here, with the glory of the sunset all
about her, she paused, quick-breathing, flushed and with witching eyes
a-droop and reached out her hands to him; but the Major chanced to be
looking just then at a tall gentleman lounging toward them down the
shady lane.
"Yonder is Mr. Dalroyd, I think, madam," said the Major, "he shall
relieve you of my presence," and into those pleading, outstretched
hands he set--the basket.
My lady started away, her lips quivered and, blinded by sudden tears
she turned and sped away.
So the Major limped homeward through the afterglow, quite unconscious
of the ugly, knobby bludgeon beneath his arm, his mind once more busied
with the problem viewed from yet another aspect:
Question: Might it be possible that a true woman can be womanly no
matter what she chance to wear?