The Star-Gazers. Fenn George Manville
take me on. My character usen’t to be of the best, and the reasons for going ’ll be again me. Of course you know why it is.”
“Well – er – I suppose – ”
“That’ll do, sir. You know well enough, it’s about you and my Judy.”
The captain laughed.
“There, sir, you needn’t shuffle with me. I’m my gal’s father, and we may as well understand one another.”
“My good fellow, recollect whom you are talking to,” said the captain, haughtily.
“I do, sir. My late missus’s son; and I recollect that I’m nobody’s servant now, only an Englishman as can speak out free like. So I say this out plain. Of course, after what’s been going on, you mean to marry my Judith?”
“Marry her? Well – er – Ben – ”
“No, you don’t,” said the keeper fiercely, “so don’t tell me no lies, because I know you’ve been and got yourself engaged to young Miss Glynne over at Brackley.”
“Well, sir, and if I have, what then?” said Rolph haughtily.
“This, sir,” cried the keeper, with his eyes flashing, “that you’ve been playing a damned cowardly mean part to Miss Glynne and to my Judith. You’ve led my gal on to believe that you meant to marry her, and then you’ve thrown her over and took up with Sir John Day’s gal. And I tell you this; if my Judith hadn’t been what she is, and any harm had come of it, you might have said your prayers, for as sure as there’s two charges o’ shot in this here gun, I’d put one through you.”
“What?”
“You heared what I said, sir, and you know I’m a man of my word. And now, look here: you’ve been to the lodge to see Judith, for the last time, of course, for if ever you speak to her again, look out. Now, don’t deny it, my lad. You’ve been to my cottage, for it is mine till to-night.”
“Yes, I have been to the lodge, Hayle,” said Rolph, who was thoroughly cowed by the keeper’s fierce manner. “I was going through the wood when, just as I drew near the cottage, I heard a cry for help.”
“What?” roared Hayle.
“I ran to the porch just as a man was after Miss Hayle – Steady there.”
The sound was startling, for involuntarily the keeper had cocked both barrels of his gun; and, as he stood there with his eyes flashing, and the weapon trembling in the air, the three dogs looked as if turned to stone, their necks outstretched, heads down, and their long feathery tails rigid, waiting for the double report they felt must follow.
“And – and – what did you do?” cried the keeper in a slow, hoarse voice, which, taken in conjunction with the rapid cocking of the gun, made Rolph think that, if it had been the father who had come upon that scene, there might have been a tragedy in Thoreby Wood that day.
“I say, what did you do?” said the keeper again, in a voice full of suppressed passion.
“That!” said Rolph, slowly raising his right hand to unwind from it Judith’s soft white handkerchief, now all stained with blood, and display his knuckles denuded of skin.
“Hah!” ejaculated the keeper, as his eyes flashed. “God bless you for that, sir. You knocked him down?”
“Of course.”
“Yes – yes?”
“And he jumped up and drew his knife and struck at me.”
“But he didn’t hit you, sir; he didn’t hit you?” cried the keeper, forgetting everything in his excitement as he clutched the young man’s arm.
“No; I was too quick for him; and then he ran off into the wood.”
“Damn him!” roared the keeper. “If I had only been there this would have caught him,” he cried, patting the stock of his gun. “I’d have set the dogs on him after I’d given him a couple of charges of shot; I would, sir, so help me God.”
The veins were standing out all over the keeper’s brow, as he ground his teeth and shook his great heavy fist.
“But wait a bit. It won’t be long before we meet.”
“I am very glad you were not there, Hayle,” said Rolph, after watching the play of the father’s features for a few moments.
“Why, sir, why?”
“Because I don’t want to have you take your trial for manslaughter.”
“No, no; I had enough of that over the breaking of Jack Harris’s head, sir; but – ”
“Yes, but,” said Rolph, quickly, “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“It was Caleb Kent,” said the keeper, with sudden excitement.
“Yes, it was Caleb Kent.”
“I might have known it; he was always for following her about. Curse him! But talking’s no good, sir; and, perhaps, it’s as well I wasn’t there. Thankye, sir, for that. It makes us something more like quits. As for Caleb Kent, perhaps I shall have a talk to him before I go. But mind you don’t speak to my Judy again.”
He shouldered his gun, gave Rolph a nod, and then walked swiftly away, the dogs hesitating for a few moments, and then dashing off, to follow close at his heels.
Rolph stood watching the keeper for a few minutes till he disappeared.
“Well out of that trouble then,” he muttered. “Not pleasant for a fellow; it makes one feel so small. Poor little Judy! she’ll be horribly wild when she comes to know. What a lot of misery our marriage laws do cause in this precious world.”
“Now then for home,” he said, after walking swiftly for a few minutes, and, “putting on a spurt” as he termed it, he reached the house and went straight to the library.
He had entered and closed the door to sit down and have a good think about how he could “square Madge,” when he became aware that the lady in his thoughts was seated in one of the great arm-chairs with a book in her hand, which she pretended to read. She cowered as her cousin started, and stood gazing down at her with a frowning brow, and a look of utter disgust and contempt about his lips which made her bosom rise and fall rapidly.
“Do you want this room, Rob?” she said, breaking an awkward silence.
“Well, yes, after what took place this morning, you do make the place seem unpleasant,” he said coolly.
“Oh, this is too much,” cried Madge, her face, the moment before deadly pale, now flushing scarlet, as she threw down the book she had held, and stood before him, biting her lips with rage.
“Yes, too much.”
“And have we been to the cottage to see the fair idol? Pray explain,” said Marjorie, who was beside herself with rage and jealousy. “I thought gentlemen who were engaged always made an end of their vulgar amours.”
“Quite right,” said Rolph, meaningly. “I did begin, as you know.”
She winced, and her eyes darted an angry flash at him.
“You mean me,” she said, with her lips turning white.
“I did not say so.”
“But would it not have been better, now we are engaged to Glynne Day – I don’t understand these things, of course – but would it not have been better for a gentleman, now that he is engaged, to cease visiting that creature, and, above all, to keep away when he was not wanted?”
“What do you mean? – not wanted?”
“I mean when she was engaged with her lover, who was visiting her in her father’s absence.”
“The scoundrel!” cried Rolph, fiercely.
“Yes; a miserable, contemptible wretch, I suppose, but an old flame of hers.”
“Look here, Madge; you’re