Peregrine's Progress Part 25

Now as I lay thus wakeful, vainly seeking an answer to this most distressing question, I became aware that the place was no longer dark; instead was a soft glow, an ever-increasing radiance, and lifting my eyes to the unglazed window I beheld the moon,--Dian's fair self, throned in splendour, queen of this midsummer night, serene and infinitely remote, who yet sent down a kindly beam, that, darting athwart the gloom, fell in a glory upon that other Diana where she lay outstretched in peaceful slumber. And gazing upon this face, softened and beautified by gentle sleep--the wide, low brow, these tender lips, this firm and resolute chin, I thought to read therein a sweet n.o.bility, purity and strength; and, like the darkness, my doubts and trouble were quite banished.

Therefore, lifting my gaze once more to Dian's placid loveliness, I breathed her a sigh of grat.i.tude, for it seemed that she had shown me the answer to my question. And thus, my mind at rest, I presently fell asleep.

CHAPTER XVII

HOW WE SET OUT FOR TONBRIDGE

"Oho--hey--hallo!"

Starting up, I opened sleepy eyes to be dazzled by a glory of early suns.h.i.+ne, and creeping from the hay wherein I lay half-buried, I came blinking to the open trapdoor and beheld Diana standing below, flouris.h.i.+ng a long-handled fork at me.

"Kooshti divvus," said she.

"Good morning!" said I.

"It is!" she nodded. "That's what I said! And the less reason to sleep--here's me been up an hour an' more."

"You should have waked me, Diana."

"I was too busy. But if you are awake, come down and wash."

"Wash what?"

"Yourself--Lord, you needs it bad enough by your looks! And 'cleanliness is next to G.o.dliness'--they says. So go an' was.h.!.+"

"Certainly!" said I, a little haughtily. "Though permit me to a.s.sure you that I am not in the habit of neglecting so healthful and necessary--"

"Soap an' towel--in th' basket--corner yonder!" said she, kneeling to puff the fire to a blaze as I descended the ladder.

"Thank you, and where shall I find the necessary water?"

"Outside--in the brook--enough to drownd you! And take your time, make a good job of it--a clean body makes a clean mind--sometimes. So scrub hard!" At this I came where she must meet my look.

"And pray, madam," I demanded, head aloft and arms folded, "do you thus suggest that my mind is so very unclean?"

"O la!" cried she, waving the fork at me with a pettish gesture.

"Don't try to come your fine airs over me in such breeches and your eyes black and face all s.m.u.tty--go an' get washed first!"

At this I turned and marched out of the barn, quite forgetting soap and towel until she came running to thrust them upon me, w.i.l.l.y-nilly.

"There's ham an' eggs for breakfast!" she volunteered.

"Then I trust you will enjoy them," said I stiffly, "but as regards myself I most certainly shall not--"

"Don't frown," she admonished, "for with your face so bruised and swollen it do make you look that comical!" And laughing, she sped away, leaving me to scowl upon the empty air.

But the morning was glorious; I stood in a dew-spangled world radiant with suns.h.i.+ne while all about me the feathered host, that choir invisible, poured forth a song of universal praise to greet this new-born day. With this joyful clamour in my ears, this fresh, green world before my eyes, I grew joyful too, and hasted towards the brook, my foolish petulance quite forgotten.

Following these murmurous, sun-kissed waters, I came where they widened suddenly into a dark and silent pool; and here, well-screened by bending willows, I ventured to bathe and found in the cool, sweet water such gasping delight that I could have sung and shouted for pure joy of it. Greatly invigorated and prodigiously hungry, I donned my unlovely garments happily enough but stooping above this watery mirror to comb my damp locks into such order as my fingers might compa.s.s, I beheld my face, its features bruised and distorted out of all shape; and remembering Diana had laughed at and made mock of these disfigurements, I sat down, not troubling about my hair, and began to muse upon her heartlessness, contrasting this with my aunt Julia's unfailing sympathy and tender, loving care, and immediately felt myself woefully solitary, miserably cold and desperately hungry. The world, despite suns.h.i.+ne and bird-song, was a dark and evil place wherein I stood desolate and forlorn; here, bowing my head between my hands, I began to despair of myself and the future. But now, and all at once, what must obtrude upon these gloomy thoughts but a vision of ham and eggs, a tantalisation that would not be banished.

"Perry--green!" I lifted my head to listen intently; and presently heard it again, a voice rich and full and smooth as note of blackbird, calling upon my name: "Perry--green! Breakfast's ready--ham an' eggs!

Perry--green!" s.n.a.t.c.hing soap and towel I rose, my gloomy thoughts forgotten again, and hasted whither this voice summoned me.

"Are ye washed?" she enquired, dexterously skewering a large ham rasher upon the iron fork and transferring it to a platter.

"I am!"

"And hungry?"

"Extremely!"

"Then you may eat! Here's breakfast--only don't go asking how I got it--nor yet where!"

So we ate, scarce speaking; I, for one, seldom lifting my gaze from the platter balanced upon my knees. I ate, I say, each mouthful a joy, ham that was a melting ecstasy and eggs of such delicate flavour as I had never tasted till now, it seemed.

"Diana," I sighed at last, "you are a truly wonderful cook!"

"No," she answered; "you are hungry, that's all. 'T is a good thing to be hungry--sometimes!"

O gentle and perspicacious reader! You, madam, who being so daintily feminine, cannot be supposed to revel in the joys of hog-flesh, flesh of ox, sheep, bird or fish, no matter how excellent well cooked; and you, honourable sir, who, being comfortably replete of such, seated before your groaning board at duly frequent and regular intervals, masticate in duty to yourself and digestion, but with none of that fine fervour of enthusiasm which true hunger may bestow--I cry ye mercy! For your author, tramping the roads, weary yet aglow with exercise, hath met and had familiar fellows.h.i.+p with l.u.s.ty Hunger, and learned that eating, though a base necessity, may also be a joy. If therefore your author forgetteth soul awhile to something describe and mayhap dilate upon such material things as food and drink and their due a.s.similation, here and now he doth most humbly crave your patient forbearance.

"It is a good thing to be hungry--sometimes!" said Diana.

"If one may a.s.suage that hunger with such ham and eggs!" I added.

"Though I greatly fear I shall never taste their like again."

"Anything'll taste good," quoth she, rising, "if you're hungry enough!"

"Diana," said I, watching her as she flitted lightly to and fro, engaged on what she called "tidying up." "Diana, what are we going to do?"

"I thought we were going to Tonbridge?"

"I am."

"Well then, the sooner we starts the better."

"But," I demurred, rubbing my chin and staring hard at the toe of my clumsy shoe, "don't you think it a little unwise--very extraordinary and--yes, extremely irregular for--for two people of opposite s.e.xes to consort thus? Are not folk apt to misjudge our intimacy?"

"What folk?"

"Well, I mean the world."