"Why did you come, Humphrey? Why did you hunt me out?" cried Richard,
in answer to a speech made by the broad-shouldered West-country-man, who
had been ushered in by Mrs Fiddison.
"Because I wanted to see you, Master Dick. I've written, and you won't
answer; so I got Mr Pratt there to tell me where you were, and here I
am."
Richard stood frowning for a few moments; but there was something so
bright and frank in the face before him that a sunshiny look came in his
own, and he shook hands heartily.
"Come, sir, that does one good," cried Humphrey. "I _am_ glad I've
come."
"Well, I am glad to see you, Humphrey; but yet--"
"I know, sir--I know," said Humphrey. "I could tell you exactly what
you feel--a bit of envy-like; but there, bless your heart, if it wasn't
for Polly and the thoughts of her, I should be a miserable man."
"Well, you've got plenty to make you miserable," said Richard.
"Ah, you may smile, sir--I know what you mean; but I have, all the same.
I tell you, I was a deal happier man without the estate than I am with
it. Old Lloyd and Mrs Lloyd--begging your pardon for speaking so of
them--look sneering-like at me; so do the quality; hang them, they're
civil enough, but I can see them sneer. They look down on me, of
course. I'm not one of their sort. I'm ignorant, and can't talk to
them. I get on well enough with the young fellows, shooting, and so on;
but I always feel as if I ought to load their guns, and I can't help
saying `sir' to every one of them."
"But I thought Mr Mervyn--"
"Mr Mervyn's as good and kind a gentleman as ever lived, and he's
wanted to learn me all sort of things; but I can't take to them--I
can't, indeed, sir. Then there's Polly: she's at a fine school, and,
poor lass, she's miserable, and writes to me how glad she'll be to get
away. It's all wrong, sir. What's the good of a horse to a man as
can't ride, or a yacht to a man as can't sail it? I've got Penreife,
and I go in and out of it feeling quite ashamed-like, just as if I was a
fish out of water. I tell you, Master Dick, upon my sivvy, what with
feeling uncomfortable about ousting you, and being sneered at on the
sly, and bothered with the company and invitations, and hints to dress
different, and learn this, and learn that, I haven't had a happy day
since you left. I don't like it, and I don't want it. Damn the
estate!--there!"
"Why, my dear fellow, you'll soon get used to it if you make up your
mind. Why, you're in your old keeper's clothes."
"Of course I am. Why shouldn't I be? There's no one up here I know, so
I thought I'd be comfortable-like, and I thought--I thought I should be
better in them to come and see you. And now, sir, how's it with you?"
"Oh, pretty well, Humphrey. I've got the command of a schooner, and I'm
going on a voyage to India."
"No, no--don't go, Master Dick--don't. Come down into Cornwall again."
Richard shook his head.
"Nonsense, sir; why, lookye here. Here am I, Humphrey Lloyd--"
"Trevor," said Richard.
"Hang the name!" said Humphrey, "it's always bothering me. I more often
sign Lloyd than Trevor, which is about the awkwardest name there ever
was to write. Ah, Master Dick, it was a bad day's work for me when
there was that change."
"Nonsense, man."
"Ah, but it was; and I tell you what: if it wasn't for my darling little
lassie, I should take to drinking to drown my cares--But, look here,
Master Richard--they wanted me to take that name, too--Richard--but I
wouldn't stand that. Well, look here, sir, why don't you come down, and
put your foot in the old place again? What's being born got to do with
it? We couldn't help being born; we didn't want to be, I dessay; and we
couldn't help what they did with us in our cradles."
"Of course not, Humphrey."
"Well, look here, sir; you grew into a gentleman, I grew into a common
man. Well, then, what's stupider than trying to make me what I didn't
grow into, and you into a common man? It's rubbish: we're neither of us
no good as we are."
Richard laughed--rather bitterly, though.
"Polly and I have had it all over, sir. I went down to her
school-place, poor little lass. She's very unhappy, and we came to the
conclusion that with the cottage nicely papered and painted, and a
hundred a year, we should be as happy as the day's long. So come,
Master Richard--there's the place nohow for want of you. Come down, and
take possession."
"Humphrey, if ever there was a fellow born with the soul of a gentleman,
it's you. But no; there is such a thing in a man as pride, and I have
too much to accept your offer; and, besides, I have made an engagement."
"Not to be married, sir?"
"No, no; my ship, man, my ship."
"Oh!" said Humphrey; "because I was thinking, sir. There's Miss Rea,
you know."
"What about her?" said Richard, sharply.
"Oh, only that she's down at Tolcarne now, sir. They say she's been
better lately. There was some talk about her being engaged to an
officer--that captain, sir, as come down and stayed with us--you, I
mean--but they say that's all broken off, because he was married
already. His wife fetched him, and he's gone off in a regiment to
India."
Richard remained silent.
"Well, come--look here, Master Dick, you say you won't take the place
back?"
"Certainly not."
"Then let's go halves."
"Humphrey, it is yours by right; keep it," said Richard, decisively.
"Well, come then, sir, we were boys together, you won't refuse to do
your old companion a good turn?"
"Anything consistent that you ask me to do, Humphrey, I'll do with
pleasure."
"Then come down and be my best man at my wedding."
Richard hesitated, for there was a battle going on within his breast.
He longed--longed intensely to go down and see Cornwall again. Tiny Rea
was there--he might see her. Yes, and make himself more wretched than
ever, for he could not speak to her. It would be madness to go--and yet
once--to see the old place before he left England--just for a few hours.
And why should he not see Tiny, just to tell her of his unaltered
faith? He felt that he would give the world to go, and yet pride kept
him back, "All right--I'll walk in, Mrs Fiddison," said a voice, and
Frank Pratt entered.
"Well, Dick, old man, how are you? Ah, Humphrey, I told you I should
turn up some time."
"I'm trying to get Master Dick here, sir, to come down and be my best
man at the wedding."
"Well, he'll do that for you, surely," said Pratt, quietly. "Go down,
Dick. I've promised Humphrey to go. I said I would directly he asked."
Pratt looked very solemn over it; but there was tremendous exultation in
his heart as he thought of seeing Pin, for the family had left Russell
Square directly after the unpleasant eclaircissement.
"He'll come, Humphrey. There, I'll promise for him, and so you may make
your mind happy."
"But just say you will, Master Dick," said Humphrey, rising.
"Well, I will, Humphrey," said Richard, holding out his hand, though he
repented the next moment, as his successor took his leave.
"Seen Mrs Vanleigh lately?" said Pratt, as soon as they were alone.
"Poor woman! no, not for two days. I must call."
"Van's behaving very well now that it's too late. There's a regular
allowance for her at his army agents. I didn't believe a man could have
changed so as he did. It was that fever did it, coming upon the shock.
Poor wretch! I never saw a man so stricken down as he was at the poor
girl's funeral."
He caught Richard's eye.
"There, what a blundering ass I am, Dick, old man. It's my trade to
rout out all sorts of old sores. But, mum, I won't say any more. How's
our friend the cabby?"
"Oh, quite well!"
"And Madame?"
"Excellently well. They say that perhaps Mrs Vanleigh is coming to
stay with them again; but I don't think it would be wise for the poor
woman to do so."
"Quite right," said Pratt. "Well, I must be off and work. I've got an
Indian case on--Jeefee Rustam versus Tomkins, and two or three more
things to get out of the way before I go down to Cornwall. By the way,
I met our languid friend, Flick, at the dub yesterday."
"Well?"
"He cut me, sir. Looked bayonets, lance-points, and sabres at me.
Heigho! Well, we can't all win. Ta-ta."
"Good-bye."
"Cornwall, mind."
Richard nodded, and he was left alone, to make up his mind a dozen times
that he could not go down to the old place without a great sacrifice of
dignity, and as often something seemed to whisper him that he must go;
and to that faint whisper he lent an attentive ear, for the desire grew
so strong at last that he found himself unable to resist.
Volume 3, Chapter XVIII.