DEEPENING TROUBLE
'The web of our life is a mingled yarn,
Good and ill together.'
As the year advanced, Mr. Vaughan found that his troubles by no means
decreased. Mr. Norton, urged on by his solicitor, was a hard creditor,
and would allow neither time nor mercy. He had taken a fancy to the
place, it seemed, and hearing that some of the neighbouring properties
would probably soon be on sale, wished to settle down at Gorswen and let
it form the nucleus of a large new estate. Unless the whole of the
mortgages could be paid up by the end of July, the property must fall
into his hands, and the black cloud which had hung for so long over the
Abbey seemed on the verge of breaking.
Mr. Vaughan had tried by every means in his power to meet his
difficulties, but all the channels he had counted upon had failed him,
and as he sat over his account-books late into the night blank ruin
stared him in the face. So impossible did it seem in any way to raise so
large a sum of money that he began quietly to make arrangements to
realize what he could on the stock and furniture, to enable him to make
a fresh start in a fresh place. It would be too trying, he decided, to
settle down anywhere in the neighbourhood of his old home, and it would
be better for both himself and his children to seek their fortune in a
new country, where his practical knowledge of farming should stand him
in good stead. He had thought at first of Kansas or Nebraska, but having
a friend in Australia, who might help him considerably in the choice of
land, he determined to give the preference to the colonies, and to try
his luck under the Southern Cross. It would be impossible to take much
more than their personal belongings with them, so everything else would
have to be sold on previously. Already an auctioneer had been sent for
to the Abbey to inspect the furniture, and give some idea of what it
might be likely to realize. It made Lilian's blood boil to see him
appraising the old oak, examining the curtains and carpets, and taking
notes of the pictures and books.
'There's grand stuff here for a sale,' he said to her enthusiastically,
rubbing his hands as if he expected her to share in his joy. 'We shall
have dealers from all over the kingdom. It's not often one gets the
chance of genuine antiques which have been known to be in one family for
such a length of time. I shouldn't wonder, now, if that Chippendale
suite were to run into three figures; it's a very scarce pattern, and
much sought after. There's some china, too, that will attract many of
the buyers, and should go for a fair price, and that Romney portrait
ought to be quite a catch. I think you will find that in our experienced
hands the very utmost will be made of everything. Of course, we shall
advertise the sale in good time, and have catalogues printed and
distributed in every likely quarter.'
'It seems quite bad enough to have to sell the things at all,' said
Lilian afterwards. 'But to hear him talk of putting all our dear old
treasures down in a catalogue made me feel absolutely ill. I can't bear
to have the Romney picture go, either, because it's just like Peggy; it
might have been painted from her'--the vision of the family portraits
and the armour of her ancestors being turned over and valued by oily
gentlemen of the Hebrew persuasion adding a double sting to the trial.
Bobby was still too young to fully understand everything that was taking
place, but to the two girls it was a time of bitter trouble and
humiliation. To Peggy, the mere fact that it should be Phyllis Norton
who would take her place at the Abbey seemed as hard as anything to
bear, and she knew her old home would pass to a family who would care
nothing for its ancient traditions and associations. Mr. Norton had
spoken freely of his plans in the neighbourhood, and it was well known
that he intended to almost rebuild the house, pulling down the ruins and
all the more early portion, and turning the whole into a handsome modern
residence. Of romance and respect for the past he possessed not a whit,
and valued the estate for its shooting and horse-rearing capabilities
alone.
'All the things which we care for most will be done away with,' grieved
Peggy--'the dear old tower pulled down, the ruins destroyed, the garden
uprooted, and the woods cleared away. I should not have minded so much
if we could have given up the place to someone who would have kept it
just as it is. It seems so hard we should be turned out when we love it
so. I feel as if, when we leave the Abbey, there will be nothing left!'
'We shall still have each other, Peggy,' said Father. 'And while our
little circle is unbroken, I think we shall be able to make a home again
somewhere. It is hard to be torn up by the roots, but you must not let
it spoil your young lives, at any rate. I hope my children may get on as
well in the new country as they would have done in this, though an old
fellow like I am may find it difficult to settle down again.'
'You're not old, Father,' said Lilian, stroking the hair which had shown
tell-tale streaks of gray lately among the brown.
'I feel old, my dear, after all I have gone through. It is worry, not
years, which ages people. But there's life in the old dog yet, and we'll
make a brave push for it in Australia.'
'I wish Aunt Helen were here,' said Peggy. 'She would have been _such_ a
comfort in all this trouble!'
'No, no!' cried Father hastily. 'Thank God she's out of it, at any rate!
I feel it one of my blessings to know she was safely settled before this
came upon us. Aunt Helen has had too much trouble in her life, without
taking any more upon her shoulders. She'll be grieved enough about it as
it is, even out there in India with her husband to console her.'
In spite of all possible care, the secret of the state of affairs at the
Abbey soon leaked out in the neighbourhood, causing the utmost
consternation and regret, for the Vaughans were universally liked and
respected, while for Mr. Norton nobody could find a good word. The
matter was much discussed at the Bluebell Inn, where old Ephraim, having
served the family for forty years, was considered an authority on the
subject, and graciously allowed himself to be treated by the assembled
company while he gave voice to his opinions.
'It's not as I holds by pride of birth,' he argued, 'and me a Radical
fifty year and more. When I were a lad, there were a talk o' choppin' up
th' land, an' givin' share and share alike to all, but they never done
it. It come up sure enough at election times, as regular as free trade
or the income-tax. "Three acres o' land and a cow," was what was
promised th' poor man if he'd give his vote to th' Liberal candidate;
but it weren't nothing but talk, and came to naught.'
'They be mostly windbags, they candidates,' observed Tom Slater, the
village blacksmith, settling himself more easily in a corner of the
bench by the fireside, and holding up a stalwart finger for the pot-boy.
'Ay, as empty as a glass wi' naught in it!' replied Ephraim, shaking his
head, and gazing reflectively at his empty tumbler.
Taking the hint, Tom ordered gin-and-water hot for two, and gently
turned the conversation back to the Vaughans.
'If there's to be property,' said the old man, 'let them have it, sez I,
as is used to it, and knows what's due to other folk. There's Mester
Vaughan would always do a good turn to a poor body if it lay in his way,
but this here Mester Norton's as tight-fisted a screw as ever looked at
a penny twice afore he parted with it.'
'Ay, he be that, and scant honest,' cried the stout miller, with a
lively remembrance of sundry hard transactions with grain for the
distilleries, in which, to his chagrin, he had had distinctly the worst
side of the bargain. 'It be the same with all they that make haste to
get rich,' he added piously. 'But they'll take their place with Dives
when other folk has gone to Abraham's bosom.'
'You hain't done badly yourself, Mester Griffiths,' suggested Tom
Slater, 'if it come to a matter o' that. Folks say you've a tidy sum
laid by in Warford Bank.'
'Earned by the sweat o' my brow, Tom,' said the miller, puffing away at
his long churchwarden pipe. 'The work o' my hands has been blessed and
prospered. Ay, the Lord's been very good to me, and I've done Him
credit, too!'
For Ebenezer Griffiths was deacon of Salem Chapel, and accustomed to
regard himself as the main bulwark and pillar of the religious and moral
welfare of the village.
'I've not any grudge against them as has money,' observed old Ephraim
oracularly, 'but when it's used to turn them as hasn't out of their own,
it's time them Socialists had a innings and stepped in. There was Mester
Vaughan givin' interest fair on them mortgages, and I've heard as th'
lawyer hisself said as he were safe as th' bank to pay regular, and what
call had Mester Norton to buy 'em up, and ask for th' principal back,
when it weren't in reason as he could raise it?'
'A case of Naboth's vineyard,' sighed the miller. 'He coveted the land,
and is using foul means to get it.'
But Ephraim's knowledge of Scripture being limited, the allusion was
lost upon him.
'Let th' Government take it up, sez I,' he declared, waxing excited, and
thumping his fist on the table. 'It 'ud be a sight better nor passing
land bills for Ireland, where no one's satisfied i' th' end, do what un
may. Let Mester Vaughan go up to Lunnon, and put it fair afore th' House
o' Commons, like th' deputations as th' newspapers tell on, and they'd
listen to un, and see un to his rights.'
Tom Slater shook his head. He had little opinion of Parliament, having
supported the wrong candidate at the last election, and pinned his
faith to purely local measures.
'We might boycott Norton, may be,' he observed thoughtfully, 'and mek
the place too hot to hold him.'
'Ay, Tom, that be a good notion, surely,' put in little Sam Andrews, the
joiner. 'Send him a letter with a coffin drawed out at the top, or a
skull and cross-bones, to say as how that's what's waitin' for un, if he
comes to Gorswen.'
'Ye'll be gettin' into trouble, Samuel,' said the miller. 'Norton would
put the police on your track, and clap you in Warford Gaol for
threatening his life.'
'But it wouldn't be me alone if we made a round robin o' it,' said Sam
hastily, who had by no means anticipated carrying out the scheme on his
own responsibility. 'Or I'd send un wi'out puttin' a name to un--a
unanimous letter they calls un, I believe.'
'Anomalous?' suggested Tom Slater.
'Anonymous be the word,' said the miller. 'But it's agin the law,
Sam--agin the law. Nay, it's a case where the wicked do prosper. I be
main sorry for Mester Vaughan, I be, but the ways o' Providence be dark
and past findin' out.'
If there was sympathy for Mr. Vaughan's trouble among the patrons of the
Bluebell Inn, nearer home it waxed both keen and practical.
'Take me with you, sir,' begged poor Joe, dissolving into tears at the
thought of parting with the family to whom he was so much attached. 'I'd
serve you faithful, and never ask a penny of wages, but just my keep
till you got settled and started. I've got eight pound ten laid by in
the savings-bank, which would go towards my passage-money, and my granny
would lend me the rest. I'd be glad to try my luck over the seas, and
maybe it 'ud seem more homelike to Master Bobby and the young ladies to
find a face they knew about 'em in a place where all was strangers.'
Warm-hearted Nancy was in a perpetual tempest of regret, and assured
Lilian that if she had not faithfully promised to marry Tom Higgins she
would have packed her box and insisted upon joining the party.
'But he have took the farm, Miss Lilian, and bespoke three cows, and a
pig, and twelve hens, and he be such a fule he'd no more know what to do
with 'em than a babe, so I must have him, if it's for naught but the
sake of the poor beasts'--which certainly seemed a most convincing
reason.
Perhaps to David the anticipated change meant as much as to anyone, for
he was growing too old to seek a new master, and dreaded the inevitable
time when he would be shelved from work, and placed on the parish list,
to the self-respecting poor always the bitterest sting of old age. The
day of possible emigration for him had long gone by, and his must be the
harder part of remaining to watch the Abbey pass into the hands of 'a
Pharaoh who knew not Joseph,' and who could not be counted upon for
either kindness or charity in his dealings with the poor around him.
As it was such an open secret, Peggy did not feel she was betraying any
confidence by discussing their affairs with Archie when he came over for
his brief half-term holiday, and in the seclusion of the stack-yard she
poured out her troubles into his sympathetic ear.
'Oh, I say, look here, you know,' cried the boy, ruffling up his
chestnut locks with both hands, which was a way he had when upset, 'if
you go out to Australia, I shall come too! I could persuade aunt to go
in a jiffey--the doctor said she'd be a million times better in a drier
climate--and we'd take the farm next to yours. Now my poor old dad's
gone, and my mother's married again, and the boys all trading off on
their own account, I don't want to go back to Colorado; but I like
colonial life, and farming would be a lot jollier than school, any way,
for the fellows in my house are awful Johnnies, they can talk of nothing
but games, and laugh at one for a crank if one tries to make things.'
'It would be nice if you went too,' said Peggy, quite brightening at the
prospect, for not the least part of her trouble had been the thought of
leaving her friends.
'Then we'll go. Cheer up, Pegsie; you'll see it won't be so bad as you
imagine. Australia's a fine place to get on in, and there'll be queer
trees and flowers, and kangaroos, and natives, and all sorts of new
things to see. Of course, I know it's an awful wrench leaving the Abbey;
but, after all, there are other places in the world to locate in.
There's no end of jolly fun going on on board ship, I can tell you, and
you'll have a real good time on the voyage out, and at the ports,
especially with me to show you around; and when we get fixed up on our
new ranches I guess you'll allow that things are pretty first-rate!'
'It would never be the Abbey, though, however jolly it was. I had meant
to live here all my life, and be buried in the transept when I die. I
have a feeling as if the Crusaders and the Elizabethan lady and
gentleman on the monuments would miss us when we go away,' said Peggy,
relapsing into pensiveness once more.
But Archie had been brought up in a democratic country, and had little
sympathy for the ties of race.
'Oh, bother the ancient Crusaders, and the other folks under the
tombstones! If they could get up again and chop off old Norton's head,
and fight anyone who laid a finger on the Abbey, they'd be of some use
to you. I believe there are a pile of old Forsters lying under elaborate
tombs somewhere in Northumberland, but what have they ever done for me?
It's no use being sentimental about old times. I'll undertake there was
precious little sentiment about them in those days. Didn't they come
sailing over from Denmark and Normandy, and all sorts of places, to
settle down in England, which was a new country then, just as we're
thinking of going out to Australia? Five hundred years hence we shall be
quite ancient history ourselves, and folks can romance over our
tombstones if they feel inclined. And after all, why should one's
ancestors do everything for one? I guess I'd rather make my mark in the
world for myself,'--for the boy had all the enthusiasm of a pioneer
about him, added to a sturdy spirit of independence.
This was quite a new gospel to Peggy, and though she could not
altogether reconcile it with her clinging love for the home of so many
generations of Vaughans, it did her good in that it gave her a fresh
aspect of life, for it is always wise to look at things from another
person's point of view, as well as your own, and she had a great respect
for Archie's opinions.
In the meantime things went on at the Abbey just as though the family
were not, metaphorically speaking, sitting on the edge of a volcano.
Daily duties must be done, however sore your heart may be, and the work
of a farm can never be stopped for your private troubles. So Lilian
reared fluffy chickens and yellow ducklings which would probably never
grace her poultry-yard, and Father cultivated the fields, though he
might not be there to gather in the harvest. It seemed hard to Peggy to
think that the trees would bud and the flowers blossom, and the crops
grow, when they were not there to watch it all, for most of us have a
kind of feeling that we are the important centre around which Nature
turns, instead of only mere spectators of her varying moods, and
sometimes it felt so impossible that such an utter upheaval in their
lives could really come to pass that she would have to shake herself to
believe that it was not all a bad dream; but as she noticed the quiet
preparations that went on, and the added worry on Father's face, she
realized that it was only too true, and that every day was bringing them
nearer to that terrible twenty-fifth of July when the mortgages would
fall due.
There is always a silver lining, however, to every cloud, and I think
this trouble, hard as it was to bear, made one of the stepping-stones in
Peggy's character. At first she had been inclined to grumble and repine,
and say that life was using them hardly, but something which the Rector
(always the family confidant) wrote to her in one of his frequent
letters made her stop and think.
'If you are really anxious to be a help and comfort, Peggy, here is your
grand opportunity. Now that the sky is so overcast at home, suppose you
put your own part of the trouble quite on one side, and let your bright
ways make the family sunshine. One cheerful person in a sad house can
work wonders, and by being specially gentle and loving just now you can
make Father remember that his children are more to him than his old
home, and that, after all, love is the best thing in this life, and
worth more than houses, or lands, or any goods which the world may
offer us. A really bright, sunny disposition is as much a talent as any
other of God's good gifts, so be thankful, child, you possess it, and
make the best use you can of it in the Master's service.'
Peggy put the letter by among the treasures in her work-box. She did not
speak about it, or show it to anyone, but after that not a further
grumble escaped her, and she managed to find such a bright side to the
question, and talked so often and so hopefully of the future, that
Father said she was as good as a tonic, and began to find his little
daughter such a comfort to him, and so different to the old thoughtless
Peggy of former days, that I scarcely know how he would have got through
that trying time without her.