King of the Castle Part 76

Stop a moment. I'll take you on to the museum."

"Museum! Hang it all, man, I'm not a specimen."

Brime laughed for the first time for a month.

"No, sir, you don't look as if you was stuffed. I was going to take you to our barber's. He knows everything; and he'll tell us whether Mrs Sarson can take you in."

"Is it far--the museum?"

"Only yonder. Just where you see that man looking out of the door."

"Ah, yes," said the stranger sharply. "Yours seems a busy place."

"Tidy, sir, tidy."

"Whose castle's that?"

"Mr Gartram's, sir. Leastwise it was. He's gone."

"Oh! Dead?"

"Yes, sir. The hardest and the best master as ever was. Some on us'll miss him, I expect."

"Curious kind of master, my lad, and likely to be missed. Gartram? Oh, yes, I know; the stone quarry man. Mr Trevithick, in our town, has to do with his affairs."

"If you talked all night, sir, you couldn't say a truer word than that.

Mr Trevithick, sir, very big man, lawyer."

"Yes; they call him Jumbo our way."

Kck!

Brime burst out into a monosyllabic half laugh, and then stopped short as Wimble was drawing back into his den to let them pa.s.s.

"Here, Mr Wimble, sir, this gent wants to ask something about Mrs Sarson."

"Eh! Yes!" said the barber sharply; and the suspicious look which had been gathering of late in his face grew more intense. "Step in, sir, pray," he added eagerly.

"Oh, that's not worth while now," said the stranger, pa.s.sing his hand over his chin. "Give you a look in to-morrow. My friend here thought you could tell me about Mrs Sarson's lodgings."

"Yes," said Brime; "and--of course, this gent wants to go fis.h.i.+ng, and Mr Lisle's always fis.h.i.+ng."

"Mr Lisle?" said the stranger. "Christopher Lisle?"

"That's the man, sir," said the barber sharply. "You know anything about him, sir?"

"Only that he has a good heavy account with our bank."

Wimble looked sharply at the stranger, with his head on one side, and more than one eager question upon his lips. But the new-comer felt that he had made a slip by talking too freely, and prevented him by asking a question himself.

"Do you think Mrs Sarson could accommodate me?"

"No, sir," said Wimble, looking at him searchingly. "No: she has no room, I am sure. Take the gentleman up to Mrs Lampton's at the top of the cliff road. I daresay she could accommodate him."

"Why, of course," said Brime; "the very place. I never thought of that."

"No, Mr Brime," said Wimble patronisingly, as he looked longingly at the visitor with cross-examination in his breast. "Say I recommended the gentleman."

"All right. Come along, sir, I'll show you; and if you want a few worms for fis.h.i.+ng, I'm your man."

"Worms?" said the visitor, laughing. "I always use flies."

"Most gents do, sir. Mr Chris Lisle does. But the way to get hold of a good fish in a river is with a whacking great worm."

"Do you know Mr Lisle?"

"Know him? Poor young man, yes."

"Poor? I don't call a gentleman who lately came in for a big fortune poor."

"Big fortune, sir? Mr Chris Lisle come in for a big fortune, sir?

Hurrah! Our young lady will be glad."

The visitor was ready to pull himself up again sharp, for this was another mistake.

Brime stopped, smiling, at a pretty cottage, where fuchsias and hydrangeas were blooming side by side with myrtles, and was going off, when the visitor offered him a s.h.i.+lling for his trouble.

"Thankye, sir, and I hope you'll be comfortable," said the gardener, descending the chief path.--"Well, I am glad. Come in for a large fortune. Now, if I were him, I'd just send Mr Glyddyr to the right about, and get the business settled as soon as it seemed decent after master's death. He is a good sort, is Mr Lisle, and he's fond enough of her. Why, they'll be married now, and keep up the old place just as it is; and if I speak when we want more help, he isn't the gent to tell a hard-working man to get up a bit earlier and work a bit later. Not he. He made a friend of me when he gave me that half-sov'rin, and I made a friend of him when I caught him. My, what a lark it was when I dropped on to him, and he thought it was the governor! I know he did."

Reuben Brime smiled as he had not smiled for days, and a minute or two later he grinned outright. From his point of vantage, high up the cliff side, he could see to the mouth of the glen, and there, to his intense delight, he could just make out two figures in deep mourning, one tall and graceful, and the other short, and her head low down between her shoulders, walking away from him in the distance, and, not far behind, a st.u.r.dy-looking man in light brown tweeds, with a fis.h.i.+ng creel slung at his back, and a rod over his shoulder, trying hard to overtake the pair in front.

"Wouldn't give much for Mr Glyddyr's chance," thought Brime, as he watched the trio out of sight. "Been an awfully cloudy time, but the sun's coming strong now, and things'll grow. What a fellow I am to give up because she was a bit off. Friends with the new guv'nor means friends with the new missus, and as Sarah about wors.h.i.+ps her, and'll do what she tells her, why, it'll come right in the end."

He walked on, building castles as he went, and in the height of his elation he said, half aloud--

"It's only six pounds a year, and I could let it till she said yes.

Hang me if I don't take the cottage after all."

"Well, Mr Brime," said a voice at his elbow, "did Mrs Lampton take the gentleman in?"

"Eh? Oh, I don't know, as I didn't stop. But she'd be sure to."

"Oh, yes, it will be all right," said Wimble. "But you'll come in, Mr Brime?"

"No. I think I'll get back now, and finish my pipe by the cliff."

"With a beard like that, sir? Better have it off."

"Eh? No, it isn't shaving day."