Eli's Children Part 62

"But they are not married yet, my boy," said Fullerton, shaking his head; "and it's my belief that they won't be. He's a flyaway, wild, scapegrace of a fellow. It'll come to nought, but I do think young Ross ought to be punished same as any other man. Fair play and no favour for me."

"Very good sentiment, Mr Fullerton," said Warton.

"Make it your own motto, then, Mr Warton," said Fullerton, proudly.

"As I says to Michael Ross, when I was talking to him, yesterday--no, it was the day before yesterday--no, stop, it _was_ yesterday. 'I believe in fair play,' I said.

"'So do I, Mr Fullerton,' he said; 'but I don't think my poor boy has got it here.'"

"Did he say that?" said Warton.

"Ay, that he did, and pst--here he is!"

There was a murmur in the inn room where the princ.i.p.al Lawford tradesmen were a.s.sembled, as old Michael Ross, the tanner, came in, looking very keen and dark, and as if close application to his trade had heightened the colour of his skin.

The old man seemed nervous, and as if he feared that he would not be counted welcome; but he soon found that if he would only discuss his son's conduct no one would be looked upon as a more welcome addition to the weekly meeting.

There was a pause for a few minutes, during which old Ross gave his orders to the landlord, and lit his pipe, smoking afterwards in quiet consciousness that he was being furtively glanced at by all a.s.sembled, and that it was only with the expectation of hearing more that they were so quiet of tongue.

"Been having a run up to London, Master Ross, I hear," said Warton, the saddler, at last.

"Yes, Master Warton, yes; I've had a run up amongst the soot and smoke,"

said Michael Ross.

"And was strange and glad to get back again, I'll be bound," said Tomlinson, while Fullerton lay back in his armed Windsor chair, staring straight up at the ceiling, with the calm self-satisfaction of a man who knew all that was being asked.

"Well, yes, neighbour," said Michael Ross, thoughtfully, "I must own that I was glad to get back again. London's a wearisome place, and the din and rattle of the streets is enough to muddle any man's brains. It was quite a relief to turn down the narrow lane to my son's chambers, and get out of the buzz and whirr. My bark mill's nowt to it."

"Saw your son, did you?" said Warton. "How's he getting on?"

"Oh, he's getting on right enough," said the old man, proudly. "He's getting on."

"Gotten to be a big loyer, eh?" said Smithson. "Why, Master Ross, sir, we shall hev to get him down here to take up our cases at County Court."

"Nay, nay, nay," said old Ross, chuckling. "Not yet--not yet. Theres a deal to learn to get to be a big loyer; but my sons working away hard now he's getting a bit over his trouble."

"Trouble?" said Fullerton, bringing his eyes down from the ceiling. "He hasn't got into trouble, I hope?"

"Nay, nay, only about the bit o' trouble down here."

"Not going to hev him before the magistrates, are they, Master Ross?"

said Warton.

"Magistrates? What, my son?" said the old man, firing up. "Not they.

He'd a deal better right to have some one else before them. My son never did no wrong."

"But they say he knocked young Cyril about with a hedge-stake," said Smithson.

"Tchah! Lies?" said the old man, angrily. "I dare say he hit him. So would I if I'd been a young man, and come back and found my young lady stole away like that. Yes, I'd ha' done the same."

"Hah, yes," said Tomlinson, thoughtfully, as if he were going back to past times. "It is hard on a man. But I don't know, Master Ross; if a man's got a bad tooth it's best out, and it has saved your lad perhaps from many a sore and aching time in the future."

"I'm not going to say anything against some people we know, and I'm not going to say anything for them," said the old tanner, warmly. "All I do say is, that I don't think my son has had justice done him down here."

"Oh, don't say that, Master Ross," said Fullerton, importantly. "I'm sure the way in which he took our side over the school appointment was n.o.ble. He saw how unjust it was, and he drew back like a man."

"I don't know--I don't know," said Michael Ross, with a dry chuckle.

"I'm afraid there was something more than that at the bottom of it, though he never owned it to me."

"Ah, well," said Fullerton; "it's very evident that he won't marry Sage Portlock. Poor girl, it's a sad fall away."

"Yes," said Tomlinson, smoothly, "it does seem strange."

"Well, for my part," said Warton, "I wonder at Joseph Portlock, though I think it's his missus as is most to blame. I don't believe as young Cyril was much hurt."

"Not he," chuckled Smithson. "And there he's been for the past month, lying on the sofa, tended by those two women. I hear the parson's been every day, and they do say, that as soon as he gets better--"

"He's better now," said Warton.

"Well, then," chuckled Smithson, drawing one leg up under him upon his chair from force of habit; "suppose we say much better--they're to be married."

"Well, it caps me," said Warton; "I can't understand what it means."

"Money," said Fullerton. "Some people keep up their grand houses and gardeners and grape-vines, and get laying traps baited with pretty girls for young lords and people from London, and after all are not so well off as some who pay their twenty or thirty pound rent and have done with it. Joseph Portlock, I suppose, will leave all his money to those two girls some day, and it will be a nice bit. Pity he didn't keep Miss Rue for the other boy, and then parson would have been happy."

"When's Frank going back?" said Smithson, the tailor, for reasons of his own.

"I'd know; ask him," said Fullerton. "He's always going over to Lewby, so I hear."

"Well," said Warton, the saddler, "all I can say is, that if I was John Berry he shouldn't be always coming over to my house."

"'Tain't our business," said Fullerton. "I should say, though, that Sage Portlock'll have a nice bit o' money."

"Ah, there's a many things done in this life for the sake of money,"

said Tomlinson, sententiously.

"But it looks bad for a young fellow to be lying about on sofas all day long, coaxed and petted up by women, just because he has got a bit of a crack on the head. Doctor said to me, he said, when I asked him about the cut, he said, laughing all the while, 'It isn't as deep as a well, nor as wide as a church door,' he said; 'but 'twill serve--'twill serve.'"

"What did he mean by that?" said Warton.

"I don't know," said Fullerton, sharply. "I think it was some stuff or another that he'd read in a book. You know what a fellow he is for giving you bits out of books. Don't you remember that night at the annual dinner? He said, when they were talking about old Mrs Hagley being a bit of a witch--"

"Ah, to be sure," said Smithson; "about the cellar."

"Yes," continued Fullerton; "he said, 'I can call spirits from the vasty deep. Landlord, go down to the cellar and bring up a bottle of the best French brandy.'"

"Ah, he's a queer fellow, is doctor," said Warton. "They won't live down here when they're married, will they?"

"Who?"