Peregrine's Progress Part 56

"Praise G.o.d from whom all blessings flow Praise Him all creatures here below--"

The single voice was joined by others that swelled in jubilant chorus:

"Praise Him above, ye Heavenly Host Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost."

Reaching the top of a hill I looked down upon a little hamlet shady with trees, a cl.u.s.ter of thatched, flower-girt cottages, a h.o.a.ry church, an ancient inn before which last stood Jessamy Todd and a group of rustic folk, men in smocked frocks or s.h.i.+rt sleeves, bare-armed women in ap.r.o.ns or print gowns, children tousled and round of eye, and all, for the most part, very silent, with heads reverently bowed, for Jessamy was praying:

"--so Heavenly Father here we be, Thy children all, weary with another day's labour, grant us this night Thy peace, each one. If any there be that grieve, O Father, comfort 'em; if any there be in pain, O Father, pity an' cherish 'em; if any do bear ill-will agin his brother, O Father, turn his anger to love that love may come thereby. Oh, make us strong against all temptations, that when we come to our last, long sleep we may rest with Thee for ever.

Amen.

And good-night, friends and brothers."

Hereupon Jessamy put on his hat, paused to grasp the h.o.r.n.y hands extended to him, then lifted a large canvas bag to his shoulder, but at my shout he turned and flourished his hat in salutation as we drove up.

"Why, Jessamy," exclaimed Diana, as he placed the bag in the cart, "what's come t' your face?" And now I saw his comely features were disfigured by an ugly blue weal.

"Oh, nothin' much, Ann," he exclaimed, smiling a little sheepishly.

"Only a whip--"

"Lord, Jess--whose?"

"I come on a fine gentleman thras.h.i.+ng of a little lad, whereupon I ventured a word of remonstrance as in dooty bound and turned to look to the lad as lay a-weepin', whereupon the gentleman took occasion to gi'e me this here--ye see he didn't 'appen to know me, poor soul!"

"Well, I hope you gave the 'poor soul' all he needed!" cried Diana, cracking the whip so loudly that Diogenes p.r.i.c.ked startled ears.

"I'm afraid I did, Ann, G.o.d forgive me. The Old Adam's very strong in me."

"And how's the poor boy?"

"Why, the gentleman wore ridin' boots, d'ye see--"

"Ah!" exclaimed Diana between white teeth. "And what's become o' the gentleman--"

"They--put him to bed," confessed Jessamy guiltily, "but he's nice an'

comfortable, Ann, an'll be right as nine pence in th' morning."

"What sort of a person was he?" I enquired.

"A biggish chap, a bit too round an' wi' too much neck."

"How often did ye hit him, Jess?"

"Four times, Ann! Four times, an' one would ha' been plenty. Four times an' me preachin' forgiveness an' brotherly love--"

"Brotherly love's no good agin' that kind o' beast, a good strong fist's the thing, or better still a little, sharp _churi_--like mine!"

"Ah, but when I hit him," sighed Jessamy, "I went on hitting him--not for the good of his soul but because--I--I j'yed in it--"

"Well, it did him just as much good, anyhow!" said Diana whereupon Jessamy sighed again and shook his head in self-reproof. Seeing him thus downcast, I laid a hand on his arm and with the other felt in my pocket.

"Do you happen to possess a watch, Jessamy?" I enquired.

"Aye, for sure," he nodded, "that is, I did, an' a rare good 'un too, but it don't go these days by reason of a brick as was hove at me by a riotous fe-male."

"Good heavens!" I exclaimed. "Why?"

"The poor creetur' being in liquor didn't take kindly to my method o'

prayer, so she let fly a brick as took me in the watch, bein'

fortunate for me but bad for my watch--a good, silver watch, too, as was given me by my old dad just afore he died. An' so I ain't had the 'eart to buy another."

"Then will you please accept this?" said I a little diffidently, aware of Diana's sharp eyes, and I thrust the timepiece into his hand.

"Why--but--how can I--Lord bless me!" stammered Jessamy, glancing from the watch to me and back again irresolutely.

"You'd better put it into your pocket, Jess, quick, or he'll throw it into the ditch!" nodded Diana. "So put it into your pocket and thank the pretty gentleman." This Jessamy did, after no little demur and with reiterated expressions of thanks.

"Which do remind me, sir, as I have a letter for you," said he.

"And my name is Peregrine," I nodded.

"A letter, Peregrine, as was give to me for you by your uncle, Sir Jervas." And presently, having felt through his numerous pockets, he brought forth the letter in question, which, with due apology, I proceeded to open and read; here it is:

"MY DEAR PEREGRINE: Apropos of your forthcoming marriage (at this I started) be guided by your own discretion in the matter, since Marriage is one of the few serious dangers to be feared in an otherwise somewhat vapid tedium we call life. Be yourself to yourself, guide, philosopher and friend, since you are likely to heed the wisdom of such more than that of any other friend, for I judge that being a Vereker, no Vereker (or any other lesser human) can stay you from your fixed purpose. So (writing as a relation who has developed an unexpected regard for you) my serious advice is--act upon your own advice. Your beautiful gipsy is a magnificent creature with a mind and will of her own, the dignified unrestraint of a dryad and the deplorable diction of a wandering gipsy wench. She would be excellent as a picture, entertaining as a companion and execrable as a wife. This of course is merely the opinion of a Vereker which to another Vereker is of not the slightest consideration. None the less, being somewhat your senior in years, I would venture to point out what I have learned by bitter experience, to wit, nephew, viz: that which is delightful for an hour may disgust in a week and become intolerable within a month.

In which certainty I subscribe myself, Most humbly your uncle, Jervas Vereker.

P.S. If you care to designate such address as will find you, your allowance shall be forwarded either by week or month as you shall determine."

Scarcely had I finished the perusal of this characteristic missive than we turned from the road and jolted down the gra.s.sy slope towards the little wood from whose rustling shadow came the blithe thump and ring of the Tinker's busy hammer, which merry clamour ceased suddenly; and forth to welcome us came Jerry, sooty and grimed as Vulcan himself and smiling in cheery greeting. And glancing from his honest face, with its wise and kindly eyes, over the quiet peace of this sheltered wood and smiling countryside, to Diana's proud and vital beauty, I knew indeed that no Vereker or any other human could stay me from my purpose.

"Jeremy," said I, plunging hand into pocket, "I don't know if you possess a watch or want a watch, but I've bought you one; pray accept it in memory of our friends.h.i.+p and as a very small mark of my esteem."

"Lord love me--a silver watch!" exclaimed the Tinker for about the tenth time, clapping the same to his ear.

"Two on 'em, brother!" said Jessamy, doing the same by his.

"My soul!" exclaimed the Tinker. "Fortune ain't in the habit o'

showering brand-noo silver watches about me like this an' it's apt to ketch me unprepared with words to soot the occasion--"

"True, brother, when Peregrine stuck mine into my fist it was like a roaster in the short ribs, low, brother, low--I was floored, taken aback, an' nat'rally broached to an' come to a dead halt--"

"Wicked extravagance, I call it!" exclaimed Diana, glancing up from the potatoes she was peeling. "Though if he wants to waste his money, he couldn't ha' wasted it better!"

"For that," said I, seating myself beside her, "I will help you with those things if you'll show me how!" At this she glanced swiftly at me without lifting her head and in her eyes was an indescribable kindliness and her vivid lips were curved to smile so tender that I stared in joyful bewilderment and forgot all else in the world until roused by the Tinker's voice:

"And exactly what o'clock might it be by your chronometer, Jessamy?"

"Precisely fifteen minutes an' three quarters past seven, brother."