Peregrine's Progress Part 19

"Young man," she panted, "young man--help me--!"

As she uttered the words, two men appeared on the bank above us, tall, dark-complexioned fellows who scowled down on me in manner I found exceedingly disturbing. "Oh, young man," cried the girl, flouris.h.i.+ng her knife and frowning up at her pursuers, "young man, if you've any manhood in ye--stand up and help me!"

And now the two men began to descend into the little dell with a certain deliberation very discomforting to witness, and I arose, greatly at a loss and looking from one to other of them in growing apprehension.

"Young man," demanded the girl in scornful undertones, "why do ye tremble?"

At this moment (and to my inexpressible relief) from the leafy tangles adjacent rose a voice, shrill and imperious:

"Jochabed--Bennigo!"

The men halted and, following their gaze, I beheld a woman, ancient and bowed with years yet apparently wonderfully active none the less, a strange, wrinkled old creature extremely neat of person, with keen, bright eyes and a portentous chin. Having descended the bank, she stood leaning on the staff she carried, her quick glance darting from the men to the girl, and the girl to me, many times over.

"Oho--aha!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed at last. "Scant o' breath be I, tur'ble scant, being s' very old--aha--but age be wise!"

And now she turned to address the woman, though in language quite beyond my comprehension, stabbing her staff at us all four in turn.

"No, gammer--no!" cried the girl pa.s.sionately, but at the ancient woman's commanding gesture she fell mute, though she scowled in sullen defiance and I saw the knife glitter where she gripped it, half concealed by a fold of her petticoat. Here one of the men muttered some unintelligible word and pointed scornfully at me, whereupon the old woman rapped him smartly over the knuckles and fixed her uncomfortably shrewd gaze on my person, scanning me over very keenly, more especially my face and hands.

"Well, my pretty young gorgio," said she, "there be horses a-sweating along o' you, eyes a-looking and hearts a-grieving all along o'

you--though you ain't much to look at--so--I guess you be better than ye look. Now here be a maid--a regular dimber-damber dell as looketh better than she be, for her's a gnas.h.i.+ng, tearing shrew wi' no kindness in her. But she be handsome--as ye may see--and courted by many, whereby hath been overmuch ill-feeling, fighting and bloodshed among our young men--so wed this day she shall be for peace and quiet's sake! Him as can show most o' the pretty gold taketh her for good, and all according to our laws and ways."

Scarcely had she done speaking than the two young fellows hastened to count over to her such monies as they possessed, while the girl watched sullen and defiant.

"Aie--aie!" quoth the old woman suddenly. "Bennigo, you have but three to Jochabed's eight, so Jochabed taketh her--unless the nice, kind, young gorgio will give more--the fine young gorgio as my wisdom telleth me is other than he do seem--aha! What of it, young master--aie--aie?"

"Young man," whispered the girl, grasping my arm in strong, compelling fingers and staring at me with eyes big and desperate, "young man, if you would not see b.l.o.o.d.y work--turn out your pockets!"

Moved by her wild looks, I obeyed almost involuntarily, but hardly was my purse out of my pocket than she s.n.a.t.c.hed and tossed it to the old woman.

"Count, grannam, count!" she cried imperiously, "and if't is not enough I've my little _churi_ for the first as dare touch me!"

The old woman opened my purse, told over its contents very deliberately, nodded and, thrusting it into her bosom, spoke with the fierce-eyed men in her strange dialect, tapped each with her staff and motioned them to be gone; hereupon, and to my unutterable wonder, they obeyed her and slunk off without a word.

"Fourteen guineas!" said she. "Fourteen guineas be more than eight--fourteen guineas, a florin, one groat and three pennies! Aha, 't is more than she be worth, I think, by reason of her shrewish tongue and unkindly ways, and if only a _hindity mengro_ and no true _Camlo_ yet she be's a _rinkinni fakement_ to look at, but then a bargain is a bargain--an' I wishes ye j'y o' her, my young rye!" Which said, she reached out her staff and touched first me and then the girl lightly on head and breast, muttering a farrago of strange words while her bright glance flashed from one to other of us; then she turned and, bowed upon her staff, climbed the ferny steep nimble and sure-footed despite her years and left us staring after her, the girl frowning and sullen as ever, I full of chagrined surprise and a growing uneasiness.

CHAPTER XIII

WHICH TELLS SOMEWHAT OF MY DEPLORABLE SITUATION

And after we had stood thus some while my companion spoke, though without troubling to turn her head or so much as glance towards me:

"Young man, what now?"

"Why, now," I answered, taking off my hat and bowing, "I have the honour to bid you good-bye!"

At this she wheeled quickly and stood viewing me over with a bold, unwavering gaze that it seemed nothing might abash; and though her eyes were large and well-shaped, yet I remember thinking them excessively unfeminine, the eyes rather of an ill-natured, pugnacious boy; and now, because of the hard coldness of her look, the unmaidenly, calculating intensity of her regard, I grew very conscious of my disfiguring garments and felt myself quite out of countenance.

"Why d'ye blush, young man?"

"Because you don't!"

"And why should I blush?"

"It would be more maidenly--?"

"Maidenly?" she repeated, and broke into such a mockery of laughter that I felt my cheeks indeed burn with a painful effusion and turning abruptly, I walked away in high dudgeon.

"Come back!" she commanded, but I went only the faster and being very earnest to rid myself of her, was even meditating ignominious flight, when I heard the leap of her feet in pursuit, felt her grip upon my arm and was checked thus so violently that I was amazed at the strength of her.

"Don't come your fine airs over me, young man," she panted in hot anger, her full, red lips tight-drawn, her great eyes dark and pa.s.sionate. "Don't do it!" she repeated. "Don't ye dare!"

"Most decidedly not!" I answered, retreating before her threatening mien; and thus, not caring to turn my back on this young virago, I fronted her fierce scrutiny with what resolution I could, while devoutly wis.h.i.+ng myself anywhere else in the world. And it was now that I realised she was taller than myself by fully an inch--indeed, perhaps a little more.

"Why does ye stare so?" she demanded.

I craved her forgiveness and lifted my offending gaze to the leaves above her head and maintained a dignified silence; whereupon she questioned me breathlessly,

"Now what are ye thinking?"

"That the ancient person spoke truly."

"You means as I'm a shrew?"

"Pray remember it was not I said so."

"But you means so! Come, does ye or don't ye?"

"Madam," I began, very conscious of the evil glitter of her knife, "if you will permit me to--"

"Don't 'madame' me, young man! I don't like it and I won't be madamed by you or any other--so don't dare--"

"Certainly not!" said I, fixing my gaze on the leaves again. "And may I suggest that we might converse more easily if you would have the kindness to put away your knife?"

"My little _churi_, d'ye mean? Not I, young man, not I! 'T is my best friend as saves from evil more than once! And how do I know as you won't come any games?"

"Games?" I repeated, shaking my head in mystification. "The sports of youth never interested me--indeed, I never play games--"

"No," cried she, with sudden, shrill laugh, "I don't think you do!"

Here (to my startled amazement) she whipped short petticoats above her knee and thrust the knife into her garter. Now though my gaze was immediately abased to earth I none the less had a memory of an exceedingly well-turned and shapely limb.

"And so you thinks I'm a shrew, does ye?" she demanded, head aslant, and hands on shapely hips.