On the Lake, at Last
Next day Philip Feltram crossed the lake; and Sir Bale, seeing the boat
on the water, guessed its destination, and watched its progress with no
little interest, until he saw it moored and its sail drop at the rude
pier that affords a landing at the Clough of Feltram. He was now
satisfied that Philip had actually gone to seek out the 'cunning man,'
and gather hints for the next race.
When that evening Feltram returned, and, later still, entered Sir Bale's
library, the master of Mardykes was gladder to see his face and more
interested about his news than he would have cared to confess.
Philip Feltram did not affect unconsciousness of that anxiety, but, with
great directness, proceeded to satisfy it.
"I was in Cloostedd Forest to-day, nearly all day--and found the old
gentleman in a wax. He did not ask me to drink, nor show me any
kindness. He was huffed because you would not take the trouble to cross
the lake to speak to him yourself. He took the money you sent him and
counted it over, and dropped it into his pocket; and he called you hard
names enough and to spare; but I brought him round, and at last he did
talk."
"And what did he say?"
"He said that the estate of Mardykes would belong to a Feltram."
"He might have said something more likely," said Sir Bale sourly. "Did
he say anything more?"
"Yes. He said the winner at Langton Lea would be Silver Bell."
"Any other name?"
"No."
"Silver Bell? Well, that's not so odd as the last. Silver Bell stands
high in the list. He has a good many backers--long odds in his favour
against most of the field. I should not mind backing Silver Bell."
The fact is, that he had no idea of backing any other horse from the
moment he heard the soothsayer's prediction. He made up his mind to no
half measures this time. He would go in to win something handsome.
He was in great force and full of confidence on the race-course. He had
no fears for the result. He bet heavily. There was a good margin still
untouched of the Mardykes estate; and Sir Bale was a good old name in
the county. He found a ready market for his offers, and had soon
staked--such is the growing frenzy of that excitement--about twenty
thousand pounds on his favourite, and stood to win seven.
He did not win, however. He lost his twenty thousand pounds.
And now the Mardykes estate was in imminent danger. Sir Bale returned,
having distributed I O Us and promissory notes in all directions about
him--quite at his wit's end.
Feltram was standing--as on the occasion of his former happier
return--on the steps of Mardykes Hall, in the evening sun, throwing
eastward a long shadow that was lost in the lake. He received him, as
before, with a laugh.
Sir Bale was too much broken to resent this laugh as furiously as he
might, had he been a degree less desperate.
He looked at Feltram savagely, and dismounted.
"Last time you would not trust him, and this time he would not trust
you. He's huffed, and played you false."
"It was not he. I should have backed that d----d horse in any case,"
said Sir Bale, grinding his teeth. "What a witch you have discovered!
One thing is true, perhaps. If there was a Feltram rich enough, he might
have the estate now; but there ain't. They are all beggars. So much for
your conjurer."
"He may make amends to you, if you make amends to him."
"He! Why, what can that wretched impostor do? D--n me, I'm past helping
now."
"Don't you talk so," said Feltram. "Be civil. You must please the old
gentleman. He'll make it up. He's placable when it suits him. Why not go
to him his own way? I hear you are nearly ruined. You must go and make
it up."
"Make it up! With whom? With a fellow who can't make even a guess at
what's coming? Why should I trouble my head about him more?"
"No man, young or old, likes to be frumped. Why did you cross his fancy?
He won't see you unless you go to him as he chooses."
"If he waits for that, he may wait till doomsday. I don't choose to go
on that water--and cross it I won't," said Sir Bale.
But when his distracting reminders began to pour in upon him, and the
idea of dismembering what remained of his property came home to him, his
resolution faltered.
"I say, Feltram, what difference can it possibly make to him if I choose
to ride round to Cloostedd Forest instead of crossing the lake in a
boat?"
Feltram smiled darkly, and answered.
"I can't tell. Can you?"
"Of course I can't--I say I can't; besides, what audacity of a fellow
like that presuming to prescribe to me! Utterly ludicrous! And he can't
predict--do you really think or believe, Feltram, that he can?"
"I know he can. I know he misled you on purpose. He likes to punish
those who don't respect his will; and there is a reason in it, often
quite clear--not ill-natured. Now you see he compels you to seek him
out, and when you do, I think he'll help you through your trouble. He
said he would."
"Then you have seen him since?"
"Yesterday. He has put a pressure on you; but he means to help you."
"If he means to help me, let him remember I want a banker more than a
seer. Let him give me a lift, as he did before. He must lend me money."
"He'll not stick at that. When he takes up a man, he carries him
through."
"The races of Byermere--I might retrieve at them. But they don't come
off for a month nearly; and what is a man like me to do in the
meantime?"
"Every man should know his own business best. I'm not like you," said
Feltram grimly.
Now Sir Bale's trouble increased, for some people were pressing.
Something like panic supervened; for it happened that land was bringing
just then a bad price, and more must be sold in consequence.
"All I can tell them is, I am selling land. It can't be done in an hour.
I'm selling enough to pay them all twice over. Gentlemen used to be able
to wait till a man sold his acres for payment. D--n them! do they want
my body, that they can't let me alone for five minutes?"
The end of it was, that before a week Sir Bale told Feltram that he
would go by boat, since that fellow insisted on it; and he did not very
much care if he were drowned.
It was a beautiful autumnal day. Everything was bright in that mellowed
sun, and the deep blue of the lake was tremulous with golden ripples;
and crag and peak and scattered wood, faint in the distance, came out
with a filmy distinctness on the fells in that pleasant light.
Sir Bale had been ill, and sent down the night before for Doctor Torvey.
He was away with a patient. Now, in the morning, he had arrived
inopportunely. He met Sir Bale as he issued from the house, and had a
word with him in the court, for he would not turn back.
"Well," said the Doctor, after his brief inspection, "you ought to be in
your bed; that's all I can say. You are perfectly mad to think of
knocking about like this. Your pulse is at a hundred and ten; and, if
you go across the lake and walk about Cloostedd, you'll be raving before
you come back."
Sir Bale told him, apologetically, as if his life were more to his
doctor than to himself, that he would take care not to fatigue himself,
and that the air would do him good, and that in any case he could not
avoid going; and so they parted.
Sir Bale took his seat beside Feltram in the boat, the sail was spread,
and, bending to the light breeze that blew from Golden Friars, she
glided from the jetty under Mardykes Hall, and the eventful voyage had
begun.