Peregrine's Progress Part 21

"Why not, young man?"

"Because I resent the appellation."

"Talk plain, young man. You do what?"

"I strongly object to the term 'young man.'"

"But you are a man, ain't you--or something like one? And then you're young--very young, I can see that."

"I am nineteen!"

"And I am eighteen and years older than you! But if you don't like 'young man' what must I call ye?"

"Whatever you please," said I stiffly.

"I called ye 'fool' just now, but that won't do, seeing there's s'

many about, so I think you shall be 'Tom'--"

"My name is Peregrine!" said I in sudden wrath. For a moment she viewed me with her direct, half-sullen gaze, then drooping dark lashes, laughed with a flash of strong white teeth.

"Hoity-toity! Don't be angry, Joe!" she mocked; and then: "Peregrine,"

said she, as if trying the sound of it. "'Peregrine' sounds very fine but then it don't agree wi' your looks--yes, I thinks Tom will suit ye better--or Sam, p'raps."

To this I deigned no answer but trudged on in moody silence, endeavouring to formulate some method of escape from this outrageous creature and so absorbed that I paid not the least heed to her foolish chatter until suddenly and most unpleasantly roused by the touch of her fingers on my ear which she tweaked none too gently. This extraordinary familiarity bred in me such indignant disgust that I sprang from her touch to stand dumb and trembling with fury.

"What," cried she, wilfully mistaking these tremors, "did I fright him then! Lord, how he do tremble! Oh, young man, you be a poor sort, I think!"

"Poor indeed!" cried I pa.s.sionately. "Poorer even than you judge me, for I haven't a penny in the world! But here is my watch--all I have left--take it--take it, for G.o.d's sake, and let me go!" Saying which I drew forth my gold repeater and would have forced it into her hand, but now she sprang back in her turn and, bowing her head, fronted me with both arms rigidly out-thrust.

"Lord G.o.d!" she muttered. "D'ye think 'tis your money I want--your dirty money!"

"What matter my thoughts?" I cried. "Here is my watch; pray take it and let us say good-bye!"

Now here, to my unutterable amazement, she flung herself down, and crouched against the high, gra.s.sy bank, burst into a tempestuous weeping while I stood gaping and infinitely distressed.

"I--I beg your pardon!" said I at last and then, struck by the inadequacy of these trite words, drew a pace nearer. "Oh, pray--pray don't weep!" I pleaded. "If I have hurt you, I crave your forgiveness!" Here she sobbed but the fiercer. "But indeed--indeed," I stammered, "I thought--that is, I did not think, I--I mean I could not leave you dest.i.tute and having no money to bestow, I--"

"Money!" cried she bitterly. "Money!" And here, checking her sobs, added very unreasonably, "I hates you!"

"Please," said I, "oh, pray believe I meant only kindness! I thought you were--"

"A girl o' the road, a creeper o' ditches and byways--well, I'm not, I tell ye--I'm not! And I only followed ye because you were so wishful to be rid o' me and because you were so silly and young and strange I couldn't understand ye. But I do now, and I'm done wi' you! Go away--go away; I hates you more than Bennigo or Jochabed--go away, I hates you!"

"Blind me, and no wonder!" chuckled a hoa.r.s.e voice behind me with such startling suddenness as for a moment bereft me of speech or motion; then, wheeling about, I came face to face with a rough-clad, villainous-looking man who stood, powerful legs apart, hairy fists grasping a short, heavy stick or bludgeon, and evil head out-thrust to stare beyond me at the prostrate form of my companion who had merely lifted her head to watch us through her tumbled hair.

"What d' you want?" I questioned the fellow, breathlessly.

"Never you mind, my chick," he growled, leering upon the girl's shapeliness with evil eyes. "I know what she wants--and it ain't you, so cut your stick and leave 'er to the man who can comfort a fine, 'andsome la.s.s."

Though addressing me, his eyes were for my companion, his loathsome gaze never swerving from her prostrate form; very slowly and deliberately he began to approach her, and now in the man himself, in his every look and gesture there was an indescribable beastliness that turned me physically sick. But none the less, though my soul shrank within me, I ventured to grasp him by the sleeve.

"Let her alone--let her alone!" I gasped, dry-mouthed.

At this he turned on me, his evil face convulsed with a look of such brutish ferocity as appalled me, yet I only tightened my grip more desperately and repeated my pa.s.sionate cry:

"Let her alone, I say; let her alone!"

Snarling inarticulately he leapt, striking at me with his bludgeon, a cruel blow that staggered and dazed me, sapping alike my strength and fort.i.tude for, beholding the murderous glare of his eyes as he made to smite again, blind panic seized me and, reeling aside, I sped away on stumbling feet, my head throbbing with the blow,--deafened, sick and half-blind. But all at once I stopped, suddenly oblivious of self as, louder than the buzzing torment of my wounded head, rose a distressful cry and the more hateful sound of desperate struggling. Round I turned and, peering, saw them locked in close grapple, and her slender body bent and swaying in his merciless clutch: at which sight my pain and sickness and selfish fear were all forgotten and in their stead sprang a pa.s.sionate desire to kill and be done with this evil thing that defiled the earth in man's shape. So back again sped I, and with every step this murderous desire grew until my mind held no other purpose. I remember s.n.a.t.c.hing up the bludgeon he had let fall, whirling it aloft in both hands and striking for his bullet head, but in that instant (and well for him) he espied his danger and, loosing the girl, stooped and taking the blow across the broad of his back was beaten to his knees; but, as I swung again, he sprang in beneath my lifted arms. I felt the sickening impact of a blow and the bludgeon flew from my hold; then he was upon me, belabouring me with both fists, but twining my legs in his, I clung to those merciless arms, while above his fierce snarling and the painful shock of his blows, I heard the girl calling out to me:

"Fight him--fight! Don't cling like a woman--stand away--hit him back--fight!"

But though spent and faint with my hurts, I clung the more tenaciously, my face buried in his foul-smelling jacket, but at last he wrenched one arm from my desperate embrace; there was a sudden blinding shock that hurled me backward into the road: lying thus helpless, my antagonist leapt to kick the life out of my defenceless body, but I saw him reel suddenly and whirl about, grasping at an arm that spouted blood between his hairy fingers, while he stared at the girl crouched for another spring, the knife glittering in her hand.

"Go--go, filthy beast!" she panted. "Go, or I'll be the death o' ye!"

And speaking, she began to creep towards me. The fellow gave back, staring from this deadly knife to her fierce eyes and reading there the truth of her words, he turned and made off, spattering blood as he went.

Relieved of his evil presence, I closed my eyes awhile feeling myself very faint and sick; when I opened them again I saw her standing above me, knife in hand, looking down on me with her sombre gaze.

"Kick me if you will!" I groaned.

"Why should I kick you?"

"Because I am a coward!" I mumbled, covering my bruised face. "I ran away--and left you--"

"Still, I don't think I'll kick you," said she in a soft, grave voice, "because although you runs away like a coward, you comes back again.

Though to be sure I didn't need you--"

"But," said I, keeping my face hidden, "I heard you cry out--"

"That was because I wished you to come back, though having my little _churi_, I didn't need you; I've managed worse than him before now! However, you did come back--which was more than I expected. But I'll never call you 'young man' any more because you ain't a real man, are you?"

"G.o.d help me!" I groaned, for added to my shame the pain of my hurts was more than I could well bear, "O G.o.d help me!" And now indeed it seemed that in some measure He answered my prayer, for, as I strove to rise, the faintness seized me again and I sank to a blessed unconsciousness.

CHAPTER XV

PROVING THAT A G.o.dDESS IS WHOLLY FEMININE

I was lying beneath a tree, my head softly pillowed and wet with cool water that refreshed me wonderfully; thus I presently turned my head and glanced up into eyes that gazed down upon me, very beautiful eyes these seemed, being soft and tender and darkly grey.

"Are ye better?" she questioned. Now at this I wondered, for the voice matched the eyes for gentleness.

"Thank you, much better."