spiritual pastor, set--set--ahem!--under you these forty years, and, I
thank heaven, never has there been a single discord--ahem!--between me
and my parishioners. If I have not always been able to agree with
them--ahem!--I have taken care not to disagree with them! I mean--I
mean, if they have had their opinions, I have not always seen my way to
accepting them, because I have studiously avoided having any opinions at
all. Now--ahem!--I see a slight jar between my nearest and dearest
neighbours,' he looked at Langford and Nanspian. 'And I long to see it
ended.' ('Hear, hear, hear!') 'I express the unanimous opinion of the
entire parish. On this one point, after forty opinionless years, I
venture--ahem!--to have an opinion, a decided opinion, an emphatic
opinion'--(immense applause)--'I call upon you all, my Christian
brethren, to unite with me in healing this unseemly quarrel--I mean this
quarrel: the unseemliness is in the quarrel, not in the quarrellers.'
Langford drank his gin-and-water not knowing what he did, and his hand
shook. Nanspian emptied his glass. Both looked at the door: there was
no escape that way, the back of burly Farmer Brendon filled it. All
eyes were on them.
'Come now,' said Piper, 'what is the sense of this quarrel? Are you
women to behave in this unreasonable manner? You, both of you, look the
worse for the squabble. What is it all about?'
'Upon my word, I do not know,' said Nanspian. 'I never did Langford a
hurt in my life. Why did he insult me?'
'I insult him!' repeated Taverner. 'Heaven knows I bore him no
ill-will, but when he dared to address me as----'
'I swear by----' burst in Hillary.
'Do not swear!' said Langford, hastily. 'Let your yea be yea.' The ice
was broken between them. One had addressed the other. Now they looked
each other full in the face. Hillary's eyes moistened. Taverner's mouth
twitched.
'Why did you employ offensive language towards me?' asked Hillary.
'I!' exclaimed Taverner; 'no, it was you who addressed me in words I
could not endure.'
The critical moment had arrived. In another moment they would clasp
hands, and be reconciled for life. No one spoke, all watched the two
men eagerly.
'Well, Taverner,' said Hillary, 'you know I am a hot man, and my words
fly from my tongue before I have cooled them.'
'I dare say I may have said what I never meant. Most certainly what I
did say was not to be taken seriously.'
'But,' put in Parson Robbins, 'what _was_ said?'
'Judge all,' exclaimed Taverner. 'I was angry, and I called Hillary
Nanspian a long-tailed Cornish ourang-outang.'
The moment the words were uttered, he was aware that he had made a
mistake. The insult was repeated in the most public possible manner.
If the words spoken in private had exasperated Hillary, how much more so
now!
Nanspian no sooner heard the offensive words than he roared forth, 'And
I--I said then, and I repeat now, that you are nose-led, tongue-lashed
by your housekeeper, Mrs. Veale.' Then he dashed his scalding
rum-and-water in the face of his brother-in-law.
*CHAPTER VIII.*
*A MALINGERER.*
The time taken by the 'Vivid' over the journey to and from the market
towns was something to be wondered at. A good man is merciful to his
beast. Certainly Oliver Luxmore was a good man, and he showed it by his
solicitude for the welfare of the grey. On Friday he drove to Tavistock
market at a snail's pace, to spare the horse, because it had to make a
journey on the morrow to Launceston or Okehampton. On Saturday he drove
to market at a slug's pace, because the grey had done such hard work on
the preceding day. The road, as has been said, was all up and down
hill, and the hills are as steep as house roofs. Consequently the
travellers by the 'Vivid' were expected to walk up the hills to ease the
load, and to walk down the hills lest the weight of the 'Vivid' should
carry the van over the grey. The fare one way was a shilling, the
return journey could be made for sixpence. All goods, except what might
be carried on the lap, were paid for extra. As the man said who was
conveyed in a sedan-chair from which the bottom had fallen out, but for
the honour of the thing, he might as well have walked. Passengers by
the 'Vivid' started at half-past six in the morning, and reached the
market town about half-past eleven. They took provisions with them, and
ate two meals on the way. They also talked their very lungs out; but
the recuperative power of their lungs was so great that they were fresh
to talk all the way home. The van left the town at four and reached
Bratton at or about nine.
A carrier must naturally be endowed with great patience. Oliver Luxmore
was by nature thus qualified. He was easy-going, gentle, apathetic.
Nothing excited him except the mention of Coombe Park. His business
tended to make him more easy-going and patient than he was naturally.
He allowed himself to be imposed upon, he resented nothing, he gave way
before every man who had a rough, and every woman who had a sharp,
tongue. He was cheerful and kindly. Every one liked him, and laughed
at him.
One Saturday night, after his return from Okehampton, Oliver was taking
his supper. The younger children were in bed, but Kate was up, she had
been to market that day with her father. Kate was a very pretty girl,
sharp eyed, sharp witted--with fair hair, a beautiful complexion, and
eyes blue and sparkling--turquoises with the flash of the opal in them.
She was seventeen. Her father rather spoiled her. He bought her
ribbons and brooches when the money was needed for necessaries.
'I brought Larry Nanspian back part of the way with me,' said Oliver.
'His father drove him into town, but the old man stayed to drink, and
Larry preferred to come on with me.'
'That was well of him,' said Honor, looking up with a smile.
'We talked of the grey,' continued the carrier. 'Larry was on the box
with me. I put Kate inside, among the clucking, clacking old women.
Larry asked me about the grey, and I told him how that we had got her.
He shook his head, and he said, "Take care of yourself, Luxmore, lest in
running out of the rain you get under the drip. I don't believe that
Uncle Taverner is the man to do favours for nothing."'
'Did he say that?' asked Honor. 'He meant nothing by it--he was
joking.'
'Of course he was joking. We joke a good deal together about one thing
or another. He is grown a fine fellow. He came swinging up to me with
his thumbs in his armholes and said, "Mr. Luxmore, Honor won't be able
to withstand me in this waistcoat. She'll fall down and worship."'
'Did he say that?' asked Honor, and her brow flushed.
'Tush! you must not take his words as seriously meant. He had got a
fine satin waistcoat to-day, figured with flowers. He pulled his coat
open to show it me. I suppose he thought the satin waistcoat would draw
you as a scarlet rag will attract rabbits.'
Honor turned the subject.
'What more did he say about Mr. Langford?'
'Oh, nothing particular. He told me he was sorry that his father could
not spare us a horse, to keep us out of the clutches of his uncle
Taverner. Then he laughed and said you had warned him not to run into
debt, and yet had led the way yourself.'
'Run into debt, how?'
Oliver evaded an answer. 'In going up the hills, Kate and he walked
together. He got impatient at last, and walked on by himself, and we
never caught him up again.'
Honor did not look up from her work. She was mending some clothes of one
of the children.
'He asked me a great deal about you,' said Kate. 'He said it was a
shame that you should stick at home and never go to market, and see
life.'
'How can I, with the house to look after? When you are a little more
reliable, Kate, I may go. I cannot now.' Suddenly they heard a loud,
deep voice at the door.
'Halloo! what a climb to the cock-loft.'
They looked startled to the door, and saw a man standing in it, with
military trousers on his legs, and his hands in his pockets, watching
them, with a laugh on his face.
'You have some supper! That's well. I'm cussed hungry. Walked from
Tavistock. Why weren't you there to-day, father?'
'It is Charles!' exclaimed Luxmore, springing to his feet, and upsetting
the table as he did so--that the cyder jug fell and was broken, and
spilt its contents, and some plates went to pieces on the floor.
'Charlie, welcome home! Who would have expected to see you? Where have
you been? What have you done? Have you served your time? Have you got
your discharge? Lord, how glad I am to see you!'
Charles Luxmore, who entered the cottage, was a tall man, he looked
ragged and wretched. His shoes were worn out, and his feet,
stockingless, showed through the holes. His military trousers were
sun-scorched, worn, badly patched, and in tatters about the ankles. His
coat was split down the back, brown where exposed to the brunt of the
weather. His whole appearance was such, that one who met him in a
lonely lane would be sensible of relief when he had passed him, and
found himself unmolested.
'Halloo! there,' said he, drawing near to the fallen table, picking up
the broken jug, and swearing, because the last drops of cyder were out
of it. 'What are you staring at me for, as if I were a wild beast
escaped from a caravan? Curse me, body and bones, don't you know me?'
'Charles!' exclaimed Honor, 'you home, and in this condition?'
'Dash it! is that you, Honor? How you have shot up. And this you,
Kate? Thunder! what a pair of pretty girls you are. Where are the rest
of the panpipes? Let me see them, and get my greeting over. Lug them
out of bed that I may see them. Curse it, I forget how many of them
there are.'
'Seven, beside our two selves,' said Honor. 'Nine in all.'
'Let me see them. Confound it! It must be got over.'
'The rest are in bed,' said Honor. 'They must not be disturbed out of
their sleep.'
'Never mind. Where is the old woman?'
'I do not know whom you mean, Charles.'
'Mother. Where is she?'
'Dead, Charles.'
He was silent for a moment. Then he said, 'Fetch the little devils, I
want to see them.'
'Charles, for shame!' exclaimed Honor, reddening and frowning, and her
brown eyes flashed an angry light.
'Tut, tut! soldier's talk. You won't find my tongue wear kid gloves. I
meant no harm.'
'You shall not speak of the children in such terms,' said Honor, firmly.
'Halloo! Do you think I will stand being hectored by you?'
'There, there,' threw in Oliver Luxmore, 'the boy meant nothing by it.
He has got into a careless way of expressing himself. That is all.'
'That is all,' laughed Charles, 'and now I have a true soldier's thirst,
and I am not a dog to lap up the spilt liquor off the floor. What is
it, beer? Is there any brandy in the house?'
'You can have a drop of cyder,' said Honor, with frowning brows. 'Or,
if that does not please you, water from the spring. The cyder is
middling, but the water is good.'
'No water for me. Fetch me the cyder.'
'There is a hogshead in the cellar under the stairs in the back
kitchen,' said Honor. 'Fill yourself a mug of it.'
'You can fetch it for me.'
'I can do so, but I will not,' answered Honor. 'Charles, I will not
stir hand or foot for a man who will speak of his innocent little
brothers and sisters as you have done.'
'Take care of yourself!' exclaimed Charles, looking at her
threateningly.
She was not overawed by his look. Her cheeks glowed with inner
agitation. 'I am not afraid of you,' she said, and reseated herself at
her work.
'I will fetch the cyder,' offered the good-natured Kate, springing into
the back kitchen.
'That is a good, dear girl,' said Charles; 'you and I will be friends,
and stand out against that dragon.'
He took the mug. 'Pshaw! this is not sufficient. I am thirsty as
desert sand. Fetch me a jugful.'
'There is not another jug in the house,' said Kate. 'I will fill the
mug again.'
Just then at the kitchen door appeared a white figure.
'Whom have we here?' exclaimed Charles.
'Joe! what has brought you down? Go to bed again,' said Honor.
'Not a bit; come here. I am the eldest in the house. I take the
command by virtue of seniority,' shouted Charles, and springing from the
chair, he caught the little white figure, brought the child in, and
seated him on his knee. 'I am your brother,' said Charles. 'Mind this.
From henceforth you obey me, and don't heed what Honor says.'
Honor looked at her father. Would he allow this? Oliver made no
remark.
'What is your name, young jack-a-napes?' asked Charles, 'and what brings
you here?'
'I am Joseph, that is Joe,' answered the little boy. 'I heard your
voice, and something said about soldiers, and I crawled downstairs to
see who you were.'
'Let the child go to bed,' asked the father. 'He will catch a chill in
his nightshirt.'
'Not he,' replied Charles. 'The kid wants to hear what I have to say,
and you are all on pins, I know.'
'Well, that is true,' said Oliver Luxmore. 'I shall be glad to learn
what brings you home. You have not served your full time. You have not
bought yourself out. If you were on leave, you would be in uniform.'
'Oh, I'm out of the service,' answered Charles. 'Look here.' He held
out his right hand. The forefinger was gone. 'I cut it off myself,
because I was sick of serving his Majesty, tired of war and its
hardships. I felt such an inextinguishable longing for home, that I cut
off my trigger finger to obtain my discharge.'
'For shame, Charles, for shame!' exclaimed Honor.
'Oh? you are again rebuking me! You have missed your proper place. You
should be army chaplain. I've been in India, and I've fought the
Afghans. Ah! I've been with General Pollock, and stormed and looted
Cabul.'
'You have been in battle!' exclaimed little Joe.
'I have, and shot men, and run my bayonet into a dozen naked Afghans.'
He laughed boisterously. 'It is like sticking a pig. That sack of
Cabul was high fun. No quarter given. We blew up the great bazaar,
crack! boom! high into the air, but not till we had cleared away all the
loot we could. And, will you believe it? we marched away in triumph,
carrying off the cedar doors of Somnath, as Samson with the gates of
Gaza. Lord Ellenborough ordered it, and we did it. But they were not
the original gates after all, but copies. Then, damn it, I thought----'
'Silence,' said Honor indignantly. 'With the child on your knee will
you curse and swear?'
'An oath will do no harm, will it, Joe?' asked the soldier, addressing
the little boy, who sat staring in his face with wonder and admiration.
'A good oath clears the heart, as a cough relieves a choking throat, is
it not so, Joe? or as a discharge of guns breaks a waterspout, eh?' The
little boy looked from his brother to his sister. It was characteristic
of the condition of affairs in the house that he did not look to his
father.
'I don't know, brother Charles,' answered he. 'Honor would not allow
it, she says it is wicked.'
'Oh, she!' mocked the soldier. 'I suppose you are under petticoat
government still, or have been. Never mind, Joe. Now that I am come
home you shall take orders from me, and not from her.'
'Joe,' said Honor sternly, 'go at once to bed.'
'He shall stay and hear the rest of the story. He shall hear how I lost
my finger.'
The child hesitated.
Then Honor said gravely, 'Joe, you will do that which you know to be
right.'
At once the little boy slipped from his brother's knee, ran to Honor,
threw his arms round her neck, kissed her on both cheeks, and ran away,
upstairs.
'So, so,' said Charles, 'open war between us! Well, sister, you have
begun early. We shall see who will obtain the victory.'
'I don't think Honor need fear a soldier who cuts off his finger to
escape fighting,' said Kate.
'What, you also in arms against me?' exclaimed Charles, turning on the
younger sister.
'You asked Joe if he were under petticoat government, and sneered at him
for it; but you seem to be valiant only when fighting petticoats,'
retorted Kate.
'I'm in a wasp's nest here,' laughed Charles.
'Never mind Kate,' said Oliver, 'she has a sharp tongue. Tell us
further about your finger.'
'I lost more than my finger--I lost prize money and a pension. As I
told you, I was weary of the service, and wanted to get home. I thought
I should do well with all the loot and prize-money, and if I were
wounded also and incapacitated for service, I should have a pension as
well; so I took off my finger with an axe, and tried to make believe I
was hurt in action. But the surgeon would not allow it. I got into
trouble and was discharged with the loss of my prize-money as a
malingerer.'
'You are not ashamed to tell us this?' exclaimed Honor.
'It was a mistake,' said Charles.
'We are ashamed to sit and listen to you,' said Honor, with an indignant
flash of her eyes, and with set brows. 'Come, Kate, let us to bed and
leave him.'
'Good night, malingerer,' said Kate.
*CHAPTER IX.*
*CHARLES LUXMORE.*
The next day was Sunday. Charles lay in bed, and did not appear to
breakfast. Oliver Luxmore, Kate, and the younger children were dressed
for church. Honor remained at home alternately with Kate on Sunday
mornings to take care of Tempie, the youngest, and to cook the dinner.
This was Honor's morning at home.
Oliver Luxmore stood in doubt, one moment taking his Sunday hat, then
putting it back in its card box, then again changing his mind.
Before they started, Charles swaggered into the kitchen, and asked for
something to eat.
'Where are you all going to, you crabs, as gay as if fresh scalded?'
asked Charles.
'This is Sunday,' answered his father, 'and I was thinking of taking
them to church; but if you wish it, I will remain at home.'
'Suit yourself,' said Charles, contemptuously, 'only don't ask me to go
with you. I should hardly do you credit in these rags, and the parson
would hardly do me good. In India there were four or five religions,
and where there is such a choice one learns to shift without any.'
'What had I better do?' asked Oliver turning to Honor.
'Go to church with the children, father. I will remain with Charles.'
'I am to have your society, am I?' asked the soldier. 'An hour and a
half of curry, piping hot! Well, I can endure it. I can give as well
as take. Let me have a look at you, Kate. A tidy wench, who will soon
be turning the heads of the boys, spinning them like tee-totums. Let me
see your tongue.' Kate put out her tongue, then he chucked her under
the chin and made her bite her tongue. The tears came into her eyes.
'Charles! you have hurt me. You have hurt me very much.'
'Glad to hear it,' he said, contemptuously. 'I intended to do it. The
tongue is too long, and too sharp, and demands clipping and blunting. I
have chastised you for your impertinence last night.'
'I suppose I had better go,' said Oliver.
'Certainly, father,' answered Honor.
Then, still hesitating at every step from the cottage to the lane,
Oliver went forth followed by seven children.
Charles drew a short black pipe from his pocket, stuffed it with
tobacco, which he carried loose about him, and after lighting it at the
fire on the hearth, seated himself in his father's chair, and began to
smoke. Presently he drew the pipe out of his mouth, and looking askance
at his sister, said 'Am I to forage for myself this morning?'
Honor came quietly up to him, and standing before him, said, 'I spoke
harshly to you, Charles, last night. I was angry, when you talked of
the dear little ones offensively. But I dare say you meant no harm. It
is a bad sign when the words come faster from the lips than the thoughts
form in the heart. You shall have your breakfast. I will lay it for
you on the table. I am afraid, Charles, that your service in the army
has taught you all the vices and none of the virtues of the soldier. A
soldier is tidy and trim, and you are dirty and ragged. I am sorry for
you; you are my brother, and I have always loved you.'
'Blazes and fury!' exclaimed Charles; 'this is a new-fangled fashion of
showing love. I have been from home five years, and this is the way in
which I am welcomed home! I have come home with a ragged coat, and
therefore I am served with cold comfort. If I had returned with gold
guineas I should have been overwhelmed with affection.'
'Not so,' said Honor gravely. 'If you had returned with a sound
character we would respect the rags; but what makes my heart ache is to
see, not the tattered jacket, but the conscience all to pieces. How
long is it since you landed?'
'Five or six months ago.'
'Where have you been since your return?'
'Where I could spend my money. I did bring something with me, and I
lived on it whilst it lasted. It is not all gone yet. Look here.' He
plunged his hand into his trousers pocket and jingled his coins
carelessly in it.
'There!' said he, 'you will feel more respect for me, and your love wake
up, when you see I have money still, not much, but still, some. Curse
it, I was a fool not to buy you a ribbon or a kerchief, and then you
would have received me with smiles instead of frowns.'
Honor looked him steadily in the face, out of her clear hazel eyes.
'No, Charles, I want no presents from you. Why did not you return to us
at once?'
'Because I had no wish to be buried alive in Bratton Clovelly. Are you
satisfied? Here I am at last.'
'Yes,' she repeated, 'here you are at last. What are you going to do now
you are here?'
'I don't know,' answered her brother with a shrug. Then he folded his
arms, threw out his legs, and leaned back in the chair. 'A fellow like
me, who has seen the world, can always pick up a living.'
Honor sighed. What had he learned? For what was he fitted?
'Charles,' she said, 'this is your father's house, and here you were
born. You have as true a right to shelter in it as I. You are heartily
welcome, you may believe that. But look about you. We are not in
Coombe Park. Including you we make up twelve in this cottage. What we
live on is what your father earns by his carrying; but he is in debt,
and we have no money to spare, we cannot afford to maintain idlers.'
'Take my money,' said Charles, emptying his pocket oh the table.
'No,' answered Honor. 'For a week we will feed you for nothing. That
money must be spent in dressing you respectably. By next week you will
have found work.'
'Maybe,' said the soldier. 'It is not every sort of work that will suit
me. Any one want a gamekeeper about here?'
'No, Charles, there is only Squire Impey in this parish; besides,
without your forefinger, who would take you as a gamekeeper?'
'The devil take me. I forgot that.'
'Curses again,' said Honor. 'You must refrain your mouth before the
children.'
'I have not gone to church,' said Charles sullenly, 'because I didn't
want to be preached to; spare me a sermon at home.'
'Charles,' said Honor, 'I have hard work to make both ends meet, and to
keep the children in order. You must not make my work harder--perhaps
impossible. If you remain here, you will need my help to make you
comfortable and to put your clothes in order. You will throw an
additional burden on me, already heavily weighted. I do not grudge you
that. But remember that extra work for an additional member means less
time for earning money at basket-weaving. We must come to an
understanding. I do not grudge you the time or the trouble, but I will
only give them to you on condition that you do not interfere with my
management of the children, and that you refrain your tongue from oaths
and unseemly speech.'
Charles stood up, went to her, took her by both ears, and kissed her.
'There, corporal, that is settled.'
Honor resented the impertinence of laying hold of her by both ears, but
she swallowed her annoyance, and accepted the reconciliation.
'I have a good heart,' said Charles, 'but it has been rolled in the
mud.'
'Give us the goodness, and wash off the soil,' answered Honor. Then she
brought him some bread-and-butter and milk. 'Charles,' she said, 'I
will see if I cannot find some of father's clothes that will fit you. I
cannot endure to see you in this condition.'
'Not suitable to the heir of Coombe Park, is it?' laughed Charles. 'Is
the governor as mad on that now as of old?'
'Say nothing to him about Coombe Park, I pray you,' urged Honor. 'It
takes the nerve out of his arms and the marrow from his bones. It may
be that we have gentle blood in us, or it may not. I have heard tell
that in old times servants in a house took the names of their masters.'
'I have always boasted I was a gentleman, till I came to believe it,'
said the soldier. 'You'd have laughed to hear me talk of Coombe Park,
and the deer there, and the coaches and horses, and father as Justice of
Peace, and Deputy-Lieutenant, and all that sort of thing, and his wrath
at my enlisting as a private.'
'I should not have laughed. I should have cried.'
'And, Honor, I reckon it is the gentle blood in my veins which has made
a wastrel of me. I could never keep my money, I threw it away like a
lord.'
Honor sighed. The myth of descent from the Luxmores of Coombe Park had
marred her father's moral strength, and depraved her brother's
character.
'There they come, the little devils!' shouted Charles, springing up and
knocking the ashes out of his pipe, which he put away in his waistcoat
pocket.
'Charles!' again remonstrated Honor, but in vain. Her elder brother was
unaccustomed to control his tongue. There was a certain amount of good
nature in him, inherited from his father, and this Honor thankfully
recognised; but he was like his father run to seed. Luxmore would have
become the same but for the strong sustaining character of his daughter.