The Star-Gazers Part 78

"Come along, then, Mr Sinkins," said Mason; and with what was meant for a haughty look at the captain's man, she led the way through the door opening on to the back staircase, sending the said door back with unnecessary violence as Mr Thompson essayed to follow, but only essayed for fear of being ordered back.

"There's something up," he said. "That fellow's seen something about master, and been tale-bearing. And so he's to go up there all alone, easing and repairing doors as the old major's 'most banged off the hinges in his pa.s.sions, and she's to stand by a-giving of him instructions, and all to aggravate and annoy me."

He took a turn up and down the hall, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g his doubled-up fist in his left hand, and grinding his teeth with rage.

"Yes; that's what it's for, just to aggravate and annoy me, and him smelling that awful of glue! Bah! It's disgusting. A low, common, heavy-looking country b.u.mpkin of a carpenter, as has never been hardly outside his village, and can only just sign his name with a square pencil, pointed up with a chisel. I say it's disgusting."

Thompson took another turn or two up and down the hall, to ease his wounded pride, and then went on again talking to himself till he caught sight of the empty, unoffending horn, which he smote with his doubled fist, striking out at it scientifically from the shoulder, and sent it flying to the other end of the hall.

"Here, what I want to know," said Thompson, is this--"Am I going to pull this here off, or am I not?"

There was no answer to the question, so the man sat down astride of a form, as if it had been a horse, folded his arms exceedingly tight, and scowled at the door that had been shut against him, devoured by jealously, and picturing in his mind other matters beside the easing of doors and tightening of hinges, for he was measuring other people's conduct, not by Mr Sinkins' footrule, but by his own bushel.

"I can't stand it," he muttered at last. "I must have a quiet pipe."

Striding out of the hall as if he were on duty, he marched right out across the park and into the lane, from whence he struck into the first opening in the fir woods where the shade seemed to calm him; and, taking out a pipe-case, he extracted a very black _bruyere_ root pipe, filled it, stuck it in his mouth, and then, seeking for a match in his vest pocket, he lit it deftly by giving it a rub on the leg of his trousers, puffed his tobacco into incandescence, and then threw the glowing vesta, like a hand grenade, over his left shoulder.

There was a sharp e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, and then,--"Confound your insolence, fellow!" Thompson started round, and found himself facing the major, trowel in one hand, malacca cane in the other.

"That light hit me in the face, sir. Do you know, sir, that you may set the woods on fire, sir?" cried the major. "What! Thompson! 'Tention!

What the devil are you doing here?"

The man gave a sharp look to left and right, and then, from old habit, obeyed the imperious military order, and drew himself upright, staring straight before him--"eyes front."

"You scoundrel!" cried the major, seizing him by the collar, and holding his cane threateningly, as the idea of some peril to his niece flashed across his mind. "You've brought a note or some message to the Hall."

"No, sir! really, sir, I haven't, sir."

"Don't dare to lie to me, you dog!" cried the major, with the stick moving up and down, and Thompson's eyes following it, in the full belief that at any moment it might fall upon his shoulders.

"It's gospel truth, sir," he cried. "I haven't got no note. How could I have?"

"Where's your master?"

"Off, sir."

"Off? What do you mean? Isn't he at The Warren?"

"No, sir; he only sent me down to fetch his things."

"Ah!" cried the major; "and here with some message."

"No, sir, that he didn't, sir. I come over here of my own self."

"What do you mean by 'off'?" cried the major. "You don't go from here till you confess the truth. After what happened how dare you set foot on these grounds! I say, where is your master?"

"Gone abroad, sir."

"Is that the truth?--Here, I was a bit hasty.--A sovereign, my lad.-- Now, then, tell me. Your master sent you down here?"

"Only to The Warren, sir, to fetch his things, because he wasn't coming down again."

The major looked at him searchingly.

"Let me see," he said, sharply; "he was to be married the other day, wasn't he?"

"Yes, sir," said Thompson, with a peculiar look as he held the sovereign in his pocket, and ran a finger nail round the milled edge.

"What do you mean by that, sir?" cried the major suspiciously, and the stick was raised again. "Wasn't he married?"

"Well, he may have been since, sir, but that other didn't come off."

"What?"

"Well, sir, the fact is, master was going to be, but there was a little trouble, sir, about another lady who lived in these parts, and when it come out about the wedding as was to be very quiet in London, there was a bit of a fuss."

"Humph! well, that is nothing to me, my man. I made a mistake, and I ask your pardon."

"It's all right, sir, and thank you kindly," said Thompson. "It was Ben Hayle's daughter, sir, Miss Judith, who used to be at The Warren before they were sent away."

The major had turned his back to go, but the man's words arrested him, and, in spite of himself, he listened.

"Ben Hayle come to Long's, sir, in Bond Street, where we was staying, and got to see master. I was packing up, because master was going on the Continong next day, and there was a tremenjus row, all in whispers like, because I was in the next room, but Ben Hayle got louder and louder, and I couldn't help hearing all the last of it."

"There, that will do. I don't want to hear any more."

"No, sir, certainly not," said Thompson; "but master didn't go to the church with Miss Emlin, sir, and from what I heered he went abroad next night, sir."

"Alone?"

"No, sir," said Thompson, smiling.

"Poor Glynne!" muttered the major as he turned away. "The man is a disgrace to the service. An utter scoundrel. Gone abroad. No, he would not go alone."

Thompson, left in the wood, took out and looked at the sovereign, and concluded that he would not go to the Hall again.

Volume 3, Chapter XIV.

FAR SEEING.

"Poor old soul, she can't be long for this world," said Oldroyd one day on receiving a message from Lindham, and, mounting Peter, he rode over across the commons to the old cottage.

"Oh, you've come at last, then," said the old woman, raising herself in bed and frowning heavily. "There, don't you go telling me no lies. I know where you've been wasting the parish time as you're paid for."

"Wasting the time?" said Oldroyd, laughing.

"Ah, it's nothing to make fun of. When I told you to take to Miss Lucy, I didn't mean you to go courting for months, but to marry her and done with it, so as she might be a bit useful, visiting and nursing some o'

the sick folk on your rounds."