Johnny Ludlow, First Series. Mrs. Henry Wood
born there; and the place is as much like my homestead as if it was my own.”
“How do you know old Parrifer wants it?” continued Tod.
“I have heard it from a safe source. I’ve heard, too, that his lawyer and Mr. Brandon’s lawyer have settled the matter between their two selves, and don’t intend to let me as much as know I’m to go out till the time comes, for fear I should make a row over it. Nobody on earth can stop it except Mr. Brandon,” added Reed, with energy.
“Have you spoken to Mr. Brandon, Reed?”
“No, sir. I was going up to him; but the thought took me that I’d better come off at once to Master Ludlow; his word might be of more avail than mine. There’s no time to be lost. If once the lawyers get Mr. Brandon’s consent, he may not be able to recall it.”
“What does Parrifer want with the cottage?”
“I fancy he covets the bit of garden, sir; he sees the order I’ve brought it into. If it’s not that, I don’t know what it can be. The cottage can be no eyesore to him; he can’t see it from his windows.”
“Shall I go with you, Johnny?” said Tod, as Reed went home, after drinking the ale old Thomas had given him. “We will circumvent that Parrifer, if there’s law or justice in the Brandon land.”
We went off to Mr. Brandon’s in the pony-carriage, Tod driving. He lived near Alcester, and had the management of my property whilst I was a minor. As we went along who should ride past, meeting us, but Major Parrifer.
“Looking like the bull-dog that he is,” cried Tod, who could not bear the man. “Johnny, what will you lay that he has not been to Mr. Brandon’s? The negotiations are becoming serious.”
Tod did not go in. On second thought, he said it might be better to leave it to me. The Squire must try, if I failed. Mr. Brandon was at home; and Tod drove on into Alcester by way of passing the time.
“But I don’t think you can see him,” said the housekeeper, when she came to me in the drawing-room. “This is one of his bad days. A gentleman called just now, and I went in to the master, but it was of no use.”
“I know; it was Major Parrifer. We thought he might have been calling here.”
Mr. Brandon was thin and little, with a shrivelled face. He lived alone, except for three or four servants, and always fancied himself ill with one ailment or another. When I went in, for he said he’d see me, he was sitting in an easy-chair, with a geranium-coloured Turkish cap on his head, and two bottles of medicine at his elbow.
“Well, Johnny, an invalid as usual, you see. And what is it you so particularly want?”
“I want to ask you a favour, Mr. Brandon, if you’ll be good enough to grant it me.”
“What is it?”
“You know that cottage, sir, at the corner of Piefinch Lane. George Reed’s.”
“Well?”
“I have come to ask you not to let it be sold.”
“Who wants to sell it?” asked he, after a pause.
“Major Parrifer wants to buy it; and to turn Reed out. The lawyers are going to arrange it.”
Mr. Brandon pushed the cap up on his brow and gave the tassel over his ear a twirl as he looked at me. People thought him incapable; but it was only because he had no work to do that he seemed so. He would get a bit irritable sometimes; very rarely though; and he had a squeaky voice: but he was a good and just man.
“How did you hear this, Johnny?”
I told him all about it. What Reed had said, and of our having met the Major on horseback as we drove along.
“He came here, but I did not feel well enough to see him,” said Mr. Brandon. “Johnny, you know that I stand in place of your father, as regards your property; to do the best I can with it.”
“Yes, sir. And I am sure you do it.”
“If Major Parrifer—I don’t like the man,” broke off Mr. Brandon, “but that’s neither here nor there. At the last magistrates’ meeting I attended he was so overbearing as to shut us all up. My nerves were unstrung for four-and-twenty hours afterwards.”
“And Squire Todhetley came home swearing,” I could not help putting in.
“Ah,” said Mr. Brandon. “Yes; some people can throw bile off in that way. I can’t. But, Johnny, all that goes for nothing, in regard to the matter in hand: and I was about to point out to you that if Major Parrifer has set his mind upon buying Reed’s cottage and the bit of land attached to it, he is no doubt prepared to offer a good price; more, probably, than it is worth. If so, I should not, in your interests, be justified in refusing this.”
I could feel my face flush with the sense of injustice, and the tears come into my eyes. They called me a muff for many things.
“I would not touch the money myself, sir. And if you used it for me, I’m sure it would never bring any good.”
“What’s that, Johnny?”
“Money got by oppression or injustice never does. There was a fellow at school——”
“Never mind the fellow at school. Go on with your own argument.”
“To turn Reed out of the place where he has always lived, out of the garden he has done so well by, just because a rich man wants to get possession of it, would be fearfully unjust, sir. It would be as bad as the story of Naboth’s vineyard, that we heard read in church last Sunday, for the First Lesson. Tod said so as we came along.”
“Who’s Tod?”
“Joseph Todhetley. If you turned Reed out, sir, for the sake of benefiting me, I should be ashamed to look people in the face when they talked of it. If you please, sir, I do not think my father would allow it if he were living. Reed says the place is like his homestead.”
Mr. Brandon measured two tablespoonfuls of medicine into a glass, drank it off, and ate a French plum afterwards. The plums were on a plate, and he handed them to me. I took one, and tried to crack the stone.
“You have taken up a strong opinion on this matter, Master Johnny.”
“Yes, sir. I like Reed. And if I did not, he has no more right to be turned out of his home than Major Parrifer has out of his. How would he like it, if some rich and powerful man came down on his place and turned him out?”
“Major Parrifer can’t be turned out of his, Johnny. It is his own.”
“And Reed’s place is mine, sir—if you won’t be angry with me for saying it. Please don’t let it be done, Mr. Brandon.”
The pony-carriage came rattling up at this juncture, and we saw Tod look at the windows impatiently. I got up, and Mr. Brandon shook hands with me.
“What you have said is all very good, Johnny, right in principle; but I cannot let it quite outweigh your interests. When this proposal shall be put before me—as you say it will be—it must have my full consideration.”
I stopped when I got to the door and turned to look at him. If he would only have given me an assurance! He read in my face what I wanted.
“No, Johnny, I can’t do that. You may go home easy for the present, however; for I will promise not to accept the offer to purchase without first seeing you again and showing you my reasons.”
“I may have gone back to school, sir.”
“I tell you I will see you again if I decide to accept the offer,” he repeated emphatically. And I went out to the pony-chaise.
“Old Brandon means to sell,” said Tod, when I told him. And he gave the pony an angry cut, that made him fly off at