How long Richard lay there he did not know. To him, it seemed like a
year of torment, during which, in a wildly fevered state, he went over,
again and again, the narrative he had heard; tried to find a flaw in it,
but in vain. It was too true--too circumstantial; and at last, in a
dazed, heavy way, he raised his haggard face, with his hair roughened,
and wrinkled brow, to see Humphrey sitting upon a fallen tree by his
side.
"Ah, Humphrey," he said, in a calm, sad voice. "How long have you been
there?"
"Ever since, sir," said the young man. "I followed you."
"Then you heard?"
"Every word, sir. I couldn't help it, though. I didn't want to
listen."
Richard bowed his head, and remained with his chin upon his breast.
"I had left Polly, sir--God bless her! she'd made me very happy with
what she said--and I was taking a short cut back to try and catch you,
sir, when I came upon you sudden like."
"Yes," said Richard, looking him full in the face. "But it was no fault
of mine. I thought I was too happy for it to last. But I'll be a man
over it. Humphrey," he exclaimed, rousing himself, "they educated me to
be a gentleman, and I won't belie them there. Once for all, I am very
sorry, and I'll make you every restitution in my power."
"Well, sir, I did wonder why she was always so hard to me: but I don't
understand you, sir," said Humphrey, quietly.
"Don't sir me, man," exclaimed Richard, passionately.
"Don't be cross with me about it, Master Dick," said Humphrey, smiling;
"'taint my fault."
"No, no, my good fellow, I know. Oh, it was monstrous!"
He turned away his head.
"Do you think it's all true, Master Richard," said Humphrey, quietly;
"it seems so wild-like."
"True enough. Oh yes, it's true. But there, we won't talk."
"But I think we'd better, sir."
"Haven't I told you that I'll make you restitution, man--give up all?"
"Master Richard," said Humphrey, with a happy smile on his face, "you've
give up to me my little love, and made me feel as if there was nothing
else in the world I'd care to have. Look ye here, sir, it's stunned me
like; it's hard, you know, to understand. I'm only a poor fellow like,
come what may; and if I had the place--oh, you know, it just sounds like
so much nonsense!--what could me and Polly do with it, when we could be
happier at the lodge? It makes me laugh--it do indeed, sir. You, you
see, have been made a scholar, and have your big friends--been made a
gentleman, in fact--and nothing would ever make one of me. Let's go on,
then, as we are, sir. I'm willing. Only sometimes Polly, maybe, 'll
want a new dress, or a ribbon, or something of that kind; and then, if I
ask you, you'll give me half a sovereign, or may be a sovereign, eh?"
"Half a sovereign--a sovereign! Why, man, can you not realise that you
have from now eight thousand a year?"
"No, sir, that I can't," said Humphrey, smiling pleasantly. "I never
was good at figures. Dogs, you know, or horses, or anything in the
farming line, I'm pretty tidy at; but figures bothers me. Let things
stop as they are, sir; I won't say a word, even to Polly."
"Humphrey," said Richard, holding out his hand, "you always were a good,
true, simple-hearted fellow."
"I hope so, sir," said Humphrey, giving his horny palm a rub down his
cord breeches before taking the extended hand, "and that's what makes it
right that we should go on as we are. Nature knew it, sir, and that's
how it was the change came about--you being the clever one, and best
suited for the estate. I'm glad of one thing, though."
"What's that?" said Richard, wringing the extended hand.
"Why, I know now, sir, why Mrs Lloyd was always so down on me--she
always was down on me, awful--regular hated me, like. Ah, the times
I've cried over it as a boy! Nobody ever seemed to love me like till
now, sir--till now."
Humphrey beamed as he slapped his broad chest; and his simple words
seemed to corroborate those of Mrs Lloyd, till the last ray of hope was
crushed from Richard's breast.
"No, Humphrey," he said, gravely, though every word cost him a pang, "I
cannot stay here as an impostor. The place is yours, I give up all."
"That you just won't, sir," said Humphrey. "Why, I should be a brute
beast if I let you. Come, come, let it go for a day or two, and think
it over. It won't trouble me. I don't want it. I'm only glad of one
thing--I've got somebody on the hip, and she won't say no now."
"I want no thinking, Humphrey; and we can still be friends. Come up to
the house."
"And what would Miss Tiny say?"
If Humphrey had stabbed him with the iron-pointed staff he carried, he
could not have given him greater pain; and his eyes wore a strange
piteous aspect as they gazed upon the young keeper's face,
"You've got her to think about too, sir," said Humphrey, "same as I
have. Oh no, Master Richard, it wouldn't never, never do."
"Come up to the house, Humphrey--come up to the house."
And then, without another word, but closely followed by his late
servant, Richard strode hastily through the wood, whose briars and twigs
in the unaccustomed path seemed now to take the part of fate, and lashed
and tore him in his reckless passage, till his face was smeared with the
blood which he had wiped hastily away.
"Has Mrs Lloyd come back from her walk?" said Richard to the staring
footman.
"Yes, sir, two hours ago," said the man.
"Go into the study, Humphrey Trevor," said Richard, quietly; and then to
himself, "Poor woman! and it was done for me."
Volume 2, Chapter XX.