AN OFFER
Now force was ranged against force, and while Dinah and Lawrence
Maynard matured the final details of their exodus, half a dozen men
had become aware of their secret enterprise and were concerned to
upset it in the name of right. Only the manner of doing so offered
material for argument. The situation was reached on the Wednesday
night of Joe's supper party, for when John Bamsey duly arrived to
learn the secret, he was surprised to find Jerry Withycombe and his
brother, Robert, also of the company. Mr. Stockman had so far
accepted the inevitable that his friends might discuss Susan's
approaching wedding in his presence, and to-night Robert Withycombe
chaffed Mr. Palk and Susan while he ate. Presently, indeed, he drank
to their united bliss and challenged the rest of the company to do
so. Thomas was gratified and Susan felt much moved to see her father
humbly drink the toast with the rest. Then the diplomatic Joe asked
Robert if he had called at Green Hayes, and what he thought of
Jerry's future wife.
Robert praised Jane very heartily.
"She's a bowerly piece," he said, "and clever as they make 'em. What
the devil she finds in this chap I can't guess; but love's blind no
doubt. I shall see 'em hitched up afore I go."
"And yourself, too, by all accounts," said Mr. Palk.
"'Tis odds he won't find nobody good enough," declared Jerry. "He
fancies himself something cruel, because he's sailed pretty near
round the world."
"There's one good enough for any living man at Green Hayes," asserted
Mr. Stockman. "Have you seen Orphan Dinah, Robert?"
"I have, and I ain't wishful to talk on that subject in public--not
yet," answered the sailor guardedly.
"He's hit--he's hit!" cried Joe. Then he remembered that Johnny was
present and turned with a great show of innocence to Maynard, who
took his supper with the rest.
"Here's a man that knows Dinah Waycott, and have took a walk or two
with her for that matter. And a very clever man too, and I'm
terrible sorry he's going to leave me. What would you say of Orphan
Dinah, Lawrence?"
Maynard was unruffled.
"Lucky the man who gets her," he answered; "she's one in a thousand."
The talk ranged and John grew more and more impatient to know when
vital matters would be reached; but he perceived that Mr. Stockman
could not speak before the company. After supper Maynard disappeared
and then, when his daughter had cleared away, Joe beckoned John and
took him outside.
"I don't trust my family circle in this matter," he said, "and so
we'll light our pipes and go out. 'Tis a moony night and to walk a
mile after supper is a very good rule, thought I don't practise it.
Call them two men. They've got to know so well as you."
In ten minutes Thomas and Susan had Falcon Farm to themselves, while
Joe, with John and the Withycombe brothers, strolled through a still
and moonlit night.
Then he told them that Lawrence was married, and had run away from
his wife.
"That's how we stand, neighbours. Maynard's a secret sort of man in
most of his dealings, but when he came here, he found me not lacking
in friendship, and he told me that much about himself. And I thought
the better of him for it; because it's often the wisest and properest
thing that parties can do, to put a few leagues between self and
partner, if marriage be poisoning 'em both. He weren't to blame for
that, so far as I can tell; indeed, I upheld the man in his action;
but now the case is altered, and we may be pretty sure the fault was
his and some innocent creature have already suffered at his hands.
And there's no reason why another should.
"It's all clear enough now. He remembered, no doubt, that he'd told
me his secret, and so he's running this job on the quiet and have
doubtless forged good reasons for Dinah's ear why they should bolt
presently, instead of proclaiming the thing like decent people would.
It's because Maynard be married that he's doing this; and now good
chance puts the secret into the hands of honest men and we must act
according. I always leave a rogue to Providence myself, and never
yet found I could do anything better than what Providence done; but
in this case there's a victim, and the victim can be saved, thank
God."
They talked and poured their indignation into the moonlight. Johnny
abounded in drastic suggestions. He desired, above all, to face
Maynard with Dinah, then let her hear the truth and beat the cowman
before her. But one, who as yet knew the least of Dinah, raised a
question.
"How if he's told her and she's willing to chance it and don't care?"
asked Robert.
Mr. Stockman protested.
"You little understand the sort she is. She'd die rather than sink
to such a deed. No; he's caught her with a parcel of lies, and he
merits a pretty good punishment no doubt. You might say the loss of
her will be punishment enough; but there's more to it than that I
dare say."
"By God, yes!" vowed Johnny.
"If he's catched and headed off in time, the law can't touch him,"
said Robert.
"Then 'tis for us to take the law in our own hands," added Johnny,
"and we will."
Joe warned him.
"All in good time," he answered. "It's life or death for Dinah, and
therefore we be called to act; but what we shall do and how we shall
both save her and be evens with this rogue will take some planning.
Rough justice must be done I grant. He must have rope enough to hang
himself with, and he must get the surprise of his life presently; but
we must be clever, else we'll spoil all. I've got ideas, but he's a
downy chap and nobody must do anything to make him smell a rat."
They abounded in suggestions and Johnny pointed a danger.
"While we're talking and planning," he said, "they may give us the
slip any night and be out of reach and vanished off the earth so far
as we're concerned. And I say this: 'tis time we knowed what was in
their letters. They be keeping apart very clever indeed, so as
nobody should link up their names, though my sister always swore they
was up to something; but they write, and Jane has watched Dinah go up
for a letter more'n half a dozen times; and now it's time we know
what's doing, else we'll get left."
"To look into a knave's letters to frustrate his tricks be no crime,
I reckon," admitted Robert Withycombe. "What d'you say, Mr.
Stockman?"
They all agreed that to read the secret correspondence was
permissible, for Dinah's sake. Indeed Joe held that this had become
a duty.
Robert expressed sorrow for her; but he knew the situation with
respect to John Bamsey and did not, therefore, say much. His own
emotions to Dinah, if any had been yet awakened, cooled rapidly. He
had no mind to seek a maiden so much involved.
They parted presently; but John was going to tell Jane the truth that
night, and impose upon her the task of reading letters when she
could, to gather what definite information of Maynard's plans they
might contain.
"I hate for Jane to do anything so mean," declared Jerry, "but I see
it did ought to be done."
"It ain't mean, my son; it's for the sake of justice, and to come
between Dinah and living death," explained Joe.
Then the younger men went their way to Buckland, and John, leaving
the brothers there, started for home. He passed Maynard on the way
and guessed that he had left, or brought, a letter. Much he longed
to challenge him, and fully he intended to play an active part in the
future proceedings; but he hid his secret knowledge, and said 'Good
night' and passed down the hill, while the unsuspecting cowman, who
had just posted a letter to Dinah, responded with friendly voice.
But Maynard did not overtake his master, and hearing Tom's slow voice
droning in the kitchen with thin interjections from Soosie-Toosie, he
retired on returning home.
Indeed matters of some moment for Joe awaited him, for the time
brought his thoughts sharply back to himself. Susan hastened to pour
out his evening drink when he came back, and Thomas, who always rose
to his feet when his master entered the kitchen, now asked if he
might be permitted to say a few words.
He spoke and Susan fluttered about in the background, while Joe
listened and sipped from a glass of spirits and water.
"You see things be risen to a crisis," began Tom, "and I feel very
much that the time's ripe for an understanding. It's mournful to
keep on like this, and to-day, by the post, there came a very fine
offer of work for me to a gentleman's farm nigh Exeter. Everything
done regardless, and good money and a cottage. So now's the
appointed time to speak, and Susan and me feel very wishful to
pleasure you, and we've come by an idea."
"Go on then. It don't much matter putting your ideas before me, as
I'm not axed to influence them. You'll do as you want to do."
"No," said Thomas; "in reason we want to do your will if it can be
done. You've been very harsh of late, master, and, of course, I can
well understand your feelings about losing Susan. But I never shall
see why you was so cruel rude about it. You may treat people like
dirt, if you do it kindly, and they won't mind; but if you call 'em
dirt, then they get a bit restive; and restive I've got, and so have
she. But here it is--an offer in a very friendly spirit; and we
haven't come to it without a lot of thinking and balancing the bright
side against the dark. And, on the whole, for Susan and me it's a
bright thought, and we hope you may think so too."
"But there's one little thing, father," began Susan, and Mr. Palk
stopped her.
"Leave all to me," he said, "I'll set it out. There's several little
things for that matter, and if the master don't see his way, so be
it. First, there's what we be offering, and next there's the
conditions to set against it. And we offer to stop after we'm
married and to go on just as usual. As a son-in-law I know you've
got no use for me; but as a hossman, you've been suited. And as a
hossman I'll willingly bide and do all I know regular and steadfast
for the same money as I'm getting now. And I pray God, if that
happened, you'd come to find me a good son-in-law likewise. And that
means your darter bides at your right hand so long as you want her
there. And I'll go farther than that. I'll say if at any time in
the next five years you take a wife and want us away, we'll go."
"I wish it too, with all my heart, father," declared Susan. "I'd be
lost away from you, and worriting all the time to know whose hands
you were got in. And marrying Thomas won't make no difference,
except there'll be two to think about you instead of one."
Mr. Stockman puffed his pipe and showed by no expression that he
appreciated the proposal.
"I'll give you this credit," he said, "I dare say you mean well."
"No two people ever meant better, father."
"And now for the powder. I expect that, even if I was to see my way,
you've got a barrelful of ugly things you'll demand. And I tell you
at once that it just hangs on a razor-edge whether the idea be good
enough as it stands, without any conditions to it at all. I should
have conditions also, and one of them would be that you undertook to
stop and not change your minds after a year, or bolt off and leave me
at your own will."
"Never," answered Susan. "It's understood we don't go unless you
wish it."
"And now your conditions, Palk, if you please."
"There ain't no powder about 'em, but only right and reason," said
Thomas, "and be it as 'twill, there's only three of 'em. Firstly,
that we have a proper, human wedding, all joyous and cheerful, with
you smiling and a few neighbours to the spread after, and a nice send
off; secondly, that we be allowed ten clear days for a honeymoon
round about somewhere; and thirdly, and lastly, that Susan, when she
comes home, be allowed a virgin girl under her, to help the labour of
the house. Just a maid-of-all-work, as any other married woman would
have for her dignity. That's all we ask, master, and I do hope you
may be brought to see there's nothing to it but will make for your
comfort and satisfaction. Susan you know, and you've often said she
was the light of the house, and she wants so to continue; and I do
believe, when you get to know me better and see how I go on and how I
treat Susan, that you'll come to feel a kinder feeling for me also."
"Don't say 'no' without thinking over it and giving us the benefit of
your wisdom, dear father," pleaded Soosie-Toosie, her large eyes
fixed upon him.
"I never say 'no' to anything, without thinking it over, Susan. 'Tis
all the other way, and I'm prone to give people the benefit of the
doubt too often. I'll turn this over. You've put the case very
clear. We shall see. I'm one for the long view, as you know. I'll
look all round it."