It was fortunate that Basset's dislike of meeting Squire Thorpe caused
Geoffrey to be conveyed to Greene Ferne, for Felix was there, and he had
sufficient knowledge of surgery to staunch the wound. The shock to the
household on the arrival of the litter was of course very great. May
fainted; Margaret very nearly did the same, but, recovering herself by a
strong effort, forced herself to help Felix. The support afforded by
her love enabled her to face the sight; but when there was nothing more
that she could do, she burst into a flood of tears, yet still refused to
leave the room. Felix asked Valentine, who still moved as one dazed, to
send Basset, as the best rider, for a doctor from the town. As he got
up into the saddle, he asked Valentine if he had any loose silver or a
cigar. Valentine mechanically gave him all he had and his cigar-case;
and the old trooper, never even in moments of the highest excitement
forgetting to take good care of himself, went clattering down the road.
The doctor came, examined Felix's work, improved upon it, and pronounced
Geoffrey's wound painful rather than dangerous. Augustus, after taking
sundry nips of strong liquor with the silver Valentine had given him, in
Kingsbury, presently returned to the hamlet, and stopped at the Spotted
Cow, where, as he had anticipated, a number of the gossips of the place
had assembled. Here he became the hero of the hour, puffing his cigars,
and spending his money right royally. But having had lengthened
experience of his imaginative powers, they totally refused to believe
him now he spoke the truth. They grinned at the idea of Geoffrey and
Valentine firing intentionally at each other, and still more ridiculed
the embellishment which he added--how he stepped between the levelled
guns at the risk of his life. They knew him too well.
"It wur an accident, of course," they said. "I tell you they fought a
regular battle," said Augustus, in a towering rage. "You be a parcel of
fools!"
"If they did vite," said the landlord slowly, "you med be zure Basset
put his yod [head] inside a rabbit-hole vor fear of the shot--and how
could he knaw?"
"Ha, ha!" such was the popular verdict.
Geoffrey, so soon as he could speak, declared it an accident, and as
such it passed outside Greene Ferne. The only witness indeed was
Basset, whose sodden word was not worth taking, even had any stir been
made. So soon as the excitement of the day was over, too, Basset--old
soldier as he was--seeing which side his bread was buttered, turned
round, and openly proclaimed that he was drunk when he made his
statement about the fight. In _this_ everybody believed him. But
Valentine, whose remorse was beyond expression, notwithstanding
Geoffrey's wish, gave Felix and Squire Thorpe the true version of the
case, laying all the blame upon himself. His jealousy and hatred
disappeared, the old friendship returned, and he did all in his power to
show it.
Though Margaret did not know all the truth, she was not without a pang
of conscience, for she recollected the nutting, and reproached herself
for not discouraging Valentine. It was long before Geoffrey recovered;
as the doctor had said, the wound, though not dangerous, was painful,
and took more time to heal than seemed proportioned to its character.
Margaret nursed him with all the devotion of love; May aided her; and
indeed his convalescence was almost an idyl. Friends gathered round to
cheer and make the time pass happily--Felix, the Squire, Valentine. The
two farmers, Ruck and Hedges, dropped in occasionally to inquire. The
spring almost came again, before he was strong, and it was then
necessary to take a change. The pleasant circle at Greene Ferne was
temporarily broken up, but for a short time only. In the summer they
met again at the sea, and a double marriage was arranged for the autumn,
when May's year of mourning had elapsed. After old Fisher's affairs
were investigated, it was found that his loss over the racing was but a
few hundreds--quite a small sum in comparison with his fortune. But his
soul had become so steeped in avarice that he could not endure it; it
had struck him as heavy a blow as if it had been the whole accumulation
of his life. There were ample means left--for a farmer, positive
wealth--and May was comparatively rich. The old hags who robbed the
house escaped punishment, though made to disgorge their plunder. May
could not be prevailed upon to prosecute--the whole matter was too
painful to be raked up. Basset benefited perhaps as much as any one;
Margaret gave him the credit of saving Geoffrey's life, and when she
began to show an interest in him the old trooper brightened up. He had
hitherto felt himself an outcast. Now he was made much of, the better
qualities came out; he furbished himself up, and held his head higher.
He could not indeed entirely break from drink, but he did, with an
effort, curtail his glasses. He attended to his work, and became a
valuable assistant. So much does the mind affect the body, that the
influence of kindness can even improve the condition of a drunkard.
Valentine, thankful to him for escape from a lifelong regret, petted
him. Geoffrey, grateful for the blow which had diverted the cartridge,
petted him. Squire Thorpe relented, and even gave him permission to
shoot in Thorpe Wood. Of this permission Augustus did not make much
use. The incitement of poaching was lacking.
The double marriage--Margaret and Geoffrey, May and Felix--took place
early in September at Millbourne Church. As the carriages rolled away,
after breakfast, from the porch at Greene Ferne, in the beautiful
sunshine, and with the shouts of the villagers and the rattling of rice,
Felix thought to himself, "This day at least we may surely say
`Gaudeamus' in the fullness of our hearts." Valentine could not bring
himself to be present at the wedding--he would not have been human if he
had; but he sent the brides a handsome present each. They are both to
reside at Kingsbury, within easy reach of Greene Ferne.
By Margaret's special wish, in the afternoon there was a dinner, or, as
the guests persisted in calling it, a supper, to the labourers and their
wives in the barn. In superintending this, Mrs Estcourt found some
little relief from the sadness which always weighs upon those left
behind after a joyous marriage. It was a large affair, for besides the
men employed on Greene Ferne, others working on adjoining farms were
bidden to the feast, which was also to be countenanced by many of higher
rank.
There was less difficulty in clearing the barn for the purpose, because
stores of corn are not now kept. The winnowing machine was stowed away
in the corner, together with the polished bushel measure and the broad
wooden shovels. A floor so level was easily swept, though the roof was
far beyond the reach of the longest broom. It was supported by beams of
chestnut--a lofty piece of ancient workmanship, not unlike some noble
halls that yet exist. The cobwebs up there had not been disturbed for
generations; the bats among the tiles slept on heedless of the stir. A
noble apartment it made, wide and long and high; a place where men could
breathe and live a larger, if a more rugged, life than in the contracted
space of rooms.
Against the door-posts inside, and at intervals around the walls, rose
columns of corn; whole sheaves of wheat, stacked in piles, for a less
quantity would scarcely have been seen in so great a space. Nor was the
white and drooping barley forgotten; and these, the wealth of the
cornfields, were strewn in profusion with the flowers that were yet in
bloom. Scarlet poppies, blue harebells, the yellow corn marigolds, the
mauve mallows, the "butter and eggs," and woodbine--all were there,
gathered by willing hands. Ferns, some already yellow and some green,
tall reeds with beautiful waving heads, and rushes, were placed at the
side of the wheat, relieving the bright flowers and the dry-looking corn
with their green; branches of oak, upon whose twigs the young acorns
were showing; branches of hazel with the nuts, and of hawthorn with the
haws, were hung between the sheaves.
The tables, with the exception of one across at the top, were of plank
on trestles, and the seats of equally primitive style--stools from the
farm, and so on; and when they ran short, a broad plank stretched from
one pile of empty cheese-vats to another. Upon the tables, flowers in
pots and cut flowers were arranged.
Augustus Basset was of considerable assistance in these preparations--he
always was when there was a prospect of unlimited feeding and liquor.
Nor did he forget to glance in at the kitchen, and see that the copper
was full of potatoes--for no pots could contain the quantity required--
and that enough cabbage had been cut to fill a few bushel baskets.
As the time fixed approached the older men began to stroll up, and after
them the women--always apart from their husbands; men came with men, and
women with women, not together, though they might dwell in the same
cottage. Among them were old Gaffer Pistol-legs, Jabez the shepherd,
and his nephew, and Jenny the dairy-maid from the Warren, for whom a
trap had been specially sent. The men on the farm who, in attendance on
the cattle, had been obliged to work till the last moment, now came to
the pump in the yard and splashed themselves with much noise, amid the
rough jokes of the idlers around.
By-and-by, Squire Thorpe and Mrs Estcourt, Farmer Ruck and Farmer
Hedges, and several more farmers who had been invited came across from
the house, and immediately old and young began to take their places.
The Squire said the shortest of graces, the covers were lifted, and the
smoke and steam from yards of solid beef and mutton rose into the lofty
roof. At the cross-table at the top a plentiful supply of game
appeared, from Thorpe Wood. Now the solid beef began to gape as slice
after slice was cut and piled upon the plates that came faster and
faster, till the carvers, standing up to their work, were forced to take
off their jackets to have their arms at greater liberty. The clatter of
knives and forks reverberated in the hollow barn--the men ate steadily
on with a calm persistent thoroughness, like the mill-wheel at the
Warren, their chins wagged without haste and without rest. The process
was only varied by a momentary pause while the two-pronged forks were
stuck into the potatoes in the dish, a much more effectual plan than
bothering with a spoon, or while a goodly load of salt was shovelled
from the salt-cellar with the tip of the knife. Meantime Augustus,
happy as a king, with the can of ale in his hands, went round and round
and up and down the long tables, filling the mugs and glasses, never
weary of well-doing. No one can understand the latent possibilities of
physical development he possesses till he has seen the agricultural
labourer eat. It is indeed a goodly spectacle, and for my part I own I
love to see it, and wish them all, great and small, plenty wherewith to
heartily satisfy those honest appetites. But it is easy to see how we
English conquered the world, since
The seat of empire is the belly.
So steadily went the eating, that before the meat was quite done already
the sun began to slope downwards, and shone full in at the open doorway.
For the barn having no windows to speak of, the vast broad doors, wider
than the gates of Gaza, were thrown open both for light and air. The
sunbeams fell full on the face of Gaffer Pistol-legs, who chanced to sit
opposite, and lit up his ancient features, which might have been carved
by a monk for a gargoyle, so wrinkled were they. After awhile the rays
seemed to awaken the patriarch from his munching, and, blinking his
eyes, he looked up and placed both his fists upon the table, still
holding his knife and fork, the points upward. His neighbours, seeing
that the old man was about to speak, stayed with half-open mouths to
listen.
"This be the vinest veast, you," said the Ancient, "this be the vinest
veast, you, as ever I zeed since ould Squire Thorpe--his'n's feyther
[nodding his head towards the top of the table]--got up the junketing
when the news come of the battle of Waterloo, dree-score year ago. The
vinest veast althegither since ould Bony were whopped. Yellucks!"--as
much as to say, Look here, that is my dictum.
This poor old man, humble as he was, had many friends, both of his own
class and among those above him, to give him a kind word or a lift. A
contrast, this, with the ancient and brutal miser Fisher, who had faced
that other magnificent sunset on the hills the year before.
After the pudding Squire Thorpe gave the health of the brides and their
bridegrooms; and rising _en masse_, they made the old barn ring again
with cheering and hammering of the tables. Down fell two of the
plank-seats, and added a booming roar to the noise.
Mrs Estcourt slipped out into the air for a minute, and came through
the rick-yard. The rosy light of the setting sun, now behind the trees
of Thorpe Wood, lit up the house and the barn and the fields. The call
of the partridge, "Caer-wit, caer-wit!" sounded across the stubble. Far
away upon the hill shone a brilliant red light--a very beacon--flashing
and gleaming. It was the last level rays of the sun reflected from the
west window of the church--a light of good omen for those who had
therein been made one that day. Yet joying in their joy and hoping
their hopes, the tears came fast from her swelling heart. But there
arose the tuning of a fiddle--"tum-tum, tup-tup!"--and her sigh, as she
turned away and forced down her feelings, was drowned in a roar and
stamping from the barn. It was her own health that they were drinking,
and immediately afterwards a crowd began to pour forth from the wide
portal. The older men settled to their pipes--an ample supply of long
clay pipes, stacked anglewise, was provided for them. But the lissom
young men and the giggling girls trooped across the rick-yard to the
level meadow, which the sheep had cropped close, and which had been also
carefully mown for the purpose. Had it rained, there would still have
been dancing-room in the barn; but it was warm and dry, so they footed
it on the sward.
Mrs Estcourt, a little shrinking and nervous, had to open it with the
Squire; and, instead of finishing, they commenced with "Sir Roger de
Coverley," that fine old country dance. After a short time she left it,
but the rest grew wilder and wilder. The dancing was like a maelstrom,
sucking in all that came within its circling sound. Those who had at
first held aloof, saying that they were too old or stiff, or didn't know
how, by degrees were drawn in, and frisked as merrily as the lads. So
the wearyful women, whose hearts had already been made glad, hummed the
tune and flung through it with a will. The children set up a dance of
their own, joining hands in a ring. "Let's jine in," said Farmer Ruck
to Farmer Hedges; and away they went with the stream--a sight not to be
seen but once in fifty years. The Ancient, Daddy Pistol-legs, sitting
in the barn and listening to the music, lifted his oaken staff and beat
time upon an empty barrel. So lustily did the village band blow and
fiddle that the carthorses in the meadows, who always cock up their ears
at the sound of a drum or a trumpet, galloped to and fro with
excitement.
The Squire's gamekeeper by-and-by came along, with his gun under his
arm, to see the fun, when Augustus Basset, with a fine sense of
magnanimity, went up to him with his can and poured him out a foaming
mug. But as he went to the house to replenish the can he could not
forbear muttering to himself, "I can't see what _he_ wants to show _his_
face here for."
The bats had now left the tiles of the barn, and were wheeling to and
fro. But the band blew and fiddled, well refreshed by Augustus's can,
and the dancers whirled about yet more fast and furious. Sly couples,
however, occasionally slipped aside to do a little courting. Tummas and
Rause, after slowly sauntering up the hedgerow, came to a gateway, and,
looking through, beheld the broad round face of the full moon placidly
shining.
"Aw, thur be the moon, you; a' be as big as a waggon-wheel," said
Tummas, putting his arm as far round her plump waist as it would go.
"Let I bide," said Rause.
"I wooll kiss ee," said Tummas sturdily.
"Thee shatn't."
There was some struggling, but Tummas succeeded with less difficulty
than he expected. The damsel was relenting under the influence of long
and faithful attentions. Tummas, like a wise man, hit while the iron
was hot, and pressed for the publication of the banns.
"Aw," said Rause, at last, with a finished air of languid weariness, as
if quite worn out with importunity, that could not have been much
improved on in a drawing-room, "aw, s'pose us med as well, you. If thee
woot do't, _I_ can't help it, can 'ee?"
So the beautiful moonlight streamed down calmly upon the white ricks,
the white loaded waggon, and the white stubble on the slightly rising
ground. Still the blare of the brass echoed back from the house, the
drum boomed, and the fiddle's treble sounded over the mead where white
skirts flickered round and round. But the mother's heart, as she stood
for a minute alone in her chamber gazing out at the night, was far, far
away with her daughter, and almost as much with that other girl who had
been to her as a second child.
In the barn the sweet fresh scent of flowers and wheat had long since
been overcome by the fumes of tobacco. Big as the barn was, it was full
of smoke and the odour of pipes and ale. Hedges and Ruck, not able to
do much dancing, had come back, and sat in chairs in the doorway, very
happily hobnobbing with Augustus to fill their glasses. At last,
however, whether it was the unwonted whirling of the dance, or whether
it was the xxxx ale, these two old cronies fell out, and abused each
other as only old cronies can, to the intense amusement of the
bystanders. These crowded up to listen to their mutual revelations.
"Thee shaved the brook," said Ruck, shaking his fist. "Thee scooped out
the ground on the Squire's side, wur the bend wur, and put the mud on
thy side. I'll warn thee took nigh three lug of land."
"I only straightened un," explained Hedges, "when I cleaned un out. A'
wur terrable crooked."
"Aw! [with scorn]. Thee put all the straightness thee own side
a-wuver!"
"Thee bist allus pinching the king's highway," shouted Hedges, stung by
this last taunt, and only withheld from battle by two strong labourers.
"Thee cuts thy hedges by the road inside, and lets um grow out on the
green, a-most into the road. A sort of a rolling-fence, doan't ee zee!"
"Beer in, bark out," said Pistol-legs, sententiously.
The Squire, hearing the noise, came across from the house; and at sight
of him the two would-be combatants quieted down; when Augustus thrust a
great double-handled mug between them, from which they had to drink in
token of restored amity.
"They won't know nothing about it to-morrow morning," said Augustus, as
a man of experience, slightly unsteady on his own legs. "They'll forget
all about it."
"I thenks it be a-most time to go whoam," said Pistol-legs, rising with
some difficulty. "Here, Dan'l!" to one of his numerous descendants.
"Let I hould on by thee."
It was abundantly evident that Pistol-legs was right; it was time to go
home. Shortly afterwards the Squire returned again, and announced that
the feast was over; when the assembly separated peacefully, after the
wont of country folk, though for half an hour or more there came distant
"Hurrays" and cheering as the groups went down the road.
About two o'clock in the morning, Jabez the shepherd, with his dog Job
at his feet, was found astride of a stile in the meadows. He had stuck
close to the barrel all day, and was roaring, at the top of a voice
accustomed to shout across half a mile of down, the veracious ballad of
"Gaarge Ridler's Oven," of noted memory:
"When I goes dead, as it med hap,
Why, bury me under the good ale-tap!
Wi' voulded arms thur let me lie,
Cheek by jowl my dog and I!"