JOAN HASTE - H. RIDER HAGGARD (inspirational novels txt) 📗

At first she did not look at him, so intent was she upon her own thoughts, till some curious influence caused her to raise her eyes, and she saw that the man was her husband, Samuel Rock.

She gazed at him astonished, although it was not wonderful that she should chance to meet a person within a few miles of his own home; but she said nothing.

"How do you do, Joan?" Samuel began, and as he spoke, she noticed that his eyes were bloodshot and wild, and his face and hands twitched: "I thought I couldn't be mistook when I saw you on the platform."

"Have you been following me, then?" she asked.

"Well, in a way I have. You see it came about thus: this morning I find that young villain, Willie Hood, driving his donkeys off my foreshore pastures, and we had words, I threatening to pull him, and he giving me his sauce. Presently he says, 'You'd be better employed looking after your wife than grudging my dickies a bellyful of sea thistles; for, as we all know, you are a very affectionate husband, and would like to see her down here after she's been travelling so long for the benefit of her health.' Then, of course, I ask him what he may chance to mean; for though I have your letter in my pocket saying that you were coming home shortly, I didn't expect to have the pleasure of seeing you to-day, Joan; and he tells me that he met you last night bound for Monk's Vale. So you see to Monk's Vale I come, and there I find you, though what you may happen to be doing, naturally I can't say."

"I have been to see Mr. Levinger," she answered; "he is very ill, and telegraphed for me yesterday."

"Did he now! Of course that explains everything; though why he should want to see you it isn't for me to guess. And now where might you be going, Joan? Is it 'home, sweet home' for you?"

"I propose to go to Moor Farm, if you find it convenient."

"Oh, indeed! Well, then, that's all right, and you'll be heartily welcome. The place has been done up tidy for you, Joan, by the same man that has been working at Rosham to make ready for the bride. She's come home to-day too, and it ain't often in these parts that we have two brides home-coming together. It makes one wonder which of the husbands is the happier man. Well, here we are at Bradmouth, so if you'll come along to the Crown and Mitre I'll get my cart and we'll drive together. There are new folks there now. Your aunt's in jail, and your uncle is in the workhouse; and both well suited, say I, though p'raps you will think them a loss."

To all this talk, and much more like it, Joan made little or no answer. She was not in a condition to observe people or things closely, nevertheless it struck her that there was something very strange about Samuel's manner. It occurred to her even that he must have been drinking, so wild were his looks and so palpable his efforts to keep his words and gestures under some sort of control.

Presently they were seated in the cart and had started for Moor Farm. The horse was a young and powerful animal, but Samuel drove it quietly enough till they were clear of the village. Then he commenced to shout at it and to lash it with his whip, till the terrified beast broke into a gallop and they were tearing along the road at a racing pace.

"We can't get home too fast, can we, darling?" he yelled into her ear, "and the nag knows it. Come on, Sir Henry, come on! You know that a pretty woman likes to go the pace, don't you?" and again he bought down his heavy whip across the horse's flanks.

Joan clung to the rail of the cart, clenched her teeth and said nothing. Luckily the last half-mile of the road ran up a steep incline, and, notwithstanding Rock's blows and urgings, the horse, being grass-fed, became blown, and was forced to moderate its pace. Opposite the door of the house Rock pulled it up so suddenly that Joan was almost thrown on to her head; but, recovering her balance, she descended from the cart; which her husband gave into the charge of a labourer.

"Here's your missus come home at last, John," he said, with an idiotic chuckle. "Look at her: she's a sight for sore eyes, isn't she?"

"Glad to see her, I'm sure," answered the man. "But if you drive that there horse so you'll break his wind, that's all, or he'll break your neck, master."

"Ah! John, but you see your missus likes to go fast. We've been too slow up at Moor Farm, but all that's going to be changed now."

As he spoke two great dogs rushed round the corner of the house baying, and one of them, seeing that Joan was a stranger, leapt at her and tore the sleeve of her dress. She cried out in fear, and the man, John, running from the head of the horse, beat the dogs back.

"Ah! you would, Towser, would you?" said Rock. "You wait a moment, and I'll teach you that no one has a right to touch a lady except her husband," and he ran into the house.

"Don't go, pray," said Joan to the man; "I am frightened,"--and she shrank to his side for protection, for the dogs were still walking round her growling, their hair standing up upon their backs.

By way of answer John tapped his forehead significantly and whispered, "You look out for yourself, missus; he's going as his grandfather did. He's allus been queer, but I never did see him like this before."

Just then Rock reappeared from the house, carrying his double-barrelled gun in his hand.

"Towser, old boy! come here, Towser!" he said, addressing the dog in a horrible voice of pretended affection, that, however, did not deceive it, for it stood still, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Surely," Joan gasped, "you are not going----"

The words were scarcely out of her mouth when there was a report, and the unfortunate Towser rolled over on to his side dying, with a charge of No. 4 shot in his breast. The horse, frightened by the noise, started off, John hanging to the reins.

"There, Towser, good dog," said Rock, with a brutal laugh, "that's how I treat them that try to interfere with my wife. Now come in, darling, and see your pretty home."

Joan, who had hidden her eyes that she might not witness the dying struggles of the wretched dog, let fall her hand, and looked round wildly for help. Seeing none, she took a few steps forward with the idea of flying from this fiend.

"Where are you going, Joan?" he asked suspiciously. "Surely you are never thinking of running away, are you? Because I tell you, you won't do that; so don't you try it, my dear. If I'm to be a widower again, it shall be a real one next time." And he lifted the gun towards her and grinned.

Then, the man John having vanished with the cart, Joan saw that her only chance was to appear unconcerned, and watch for an opportunity to escape later.

"Run away!" she said: "what are you thinking of? I only wanted to see if the horse was safe," and she turned and walked through the deserted garden to the front door of the house, which she entered.

Rock followed her, locking the door behind her has he had done when Mrs. Gillingwater came to visit him, and with much ceremonious politeness ushered her into the sitting-room. This chamber had been re-decorated with a flaring paper, that only served to make it even more incongruous and unfit to be lived in by any sane person than before; and noting its gloom, which by contrast with the brilliant June sunshine without was almost startling, and the devilish faces of carven stone that grinned down upon her from the walls, Joan crossed its threshold with a shiver of fear.

"Here we are at last!" said Samuel. "Welcome to your home, Joan Rock!" And he made a movement as though to embrace her, which she avoided by walking straight past him to the farther side of the table.

"You'll be wanting something to eat, Joan," he went on. "There's plenty in the house if you don't mind cooking it. You see I haven't got any servants here at present," he added apologetically, "as you weren't expected so soon; and the old woman who comes in to do for me is away sick."

"Certainly I will cook the food," Joan answered.

"That's right, dear--I was afraid that you might be too grand but perhaps you would like to wash your hands first while I light the fire in the kitchen stove. Come here," and he led the way through the door near the fireplace to the foot of an oaken stair. "There," he said, "that's our room, on the right. It's no use trying any of the others, because they'll all locked up. I shall be just here in the kitchen, so you will see me when you come down."

Joan went upstairs to the room, which was large and well furnished, though, like that downstairs, badly lighted by one window only, and secured with iron bars, as though the place had been used as a prison at some former time. Clearly it was Samuel's own room, for his clothes and hat were hung upon some pegs near the door, and other of his possessions were arranged in cupboards and on the shelves.

Almost mechanically she washed her hands and tidied her hair with a brush from her handbag. Then she sat down and tried to think, to find only that her mind had become incapable, so numbed was it by all that she had undergone, and with the terrors mental and bodily of her present position. Nor indeed was much time allowed her for thought, since presently she heard the hateful voice of her husband calling to her that the fire was ready. At first she made no answer, whereon Samuel spoke again from the foot of the stairs, saying,--

"If you won't come down, dear, I must come up, as I can't bear to lose sight of you for so long at a time."

Then Joan descended to the kitchen, where the fire burnt brightly and a beef-steak was placed upon the table ready for cooking. She set to work to fry the meat and to boil the kettle and the potatoes; while Samuel, seated in a chair by the table, followed her every movement with his eyes.

"Now, this is what I call real pleasant and homely," he said, "and I've been looking forward to it for many a month as I sat by myself at night. Not that I want you to be a drudge, Joan--don't you think it. I've got lots of money, and you shall spend it: yes, you shall have your carriage and pair if you like."

"You are very kind," she murmured, "but I don't wish to live above my station. Perhaps you will lay the table and bring me the teapot, as I think that the steak is nearly done."

He rose to obey with alacrity, but before he left the room Joan saw with a fresh tremor that he was careful to lock the kitchen door and to put the key into his pocket. Evidently he suspected her of a desire to escape.

In a few more minutes the meal was ready, and they were seated /tête-à-tête/ in the parlour.

When he had helped her Joan asked him if she should pour out the tea.

"No, never mind that wash," he said; "I've got something that I have been keeping against this day." And going to a cupboard he produced glasses and two bottles, one of champagne and the other of brandy. Opening the first, he filled