Joan Haste - H. Rider Haggard (fiction books to read .TXT) 📗

of person to make a fool of

himself in this way.”

 

“What makes you think so?” asked Mr. Levinger, with evident anxiety.

 

“A hundred things: when he was not himself he would scarcely allow her

out of his sight, and now it is much the same. But I go more by what I

saw upon her face during all that day of the crisis, and the way in

which she looks at him when she fancies that no one is observing her.

Of course I may be wrong, and a passing flirtation with a village

beauty is not such a very serious matter, or would not be in the case

of most men; but, on the other hand, perhaps I am right, and where an

obstinate person like my brother Henry is concerned, the consequences

might prove fatal to all our hopes.”

 

Mr. Levinger seemed to see the force of this contention, and indeed

Ellen had put the case very sensibly and clearly. At any rate he did

not try to combat it.

 

“What do you suggest?” he asked. “You are a woman of experience and

common sense, and I am sure that you have thought of a remedy before

speaking to me.”

 

“My suggestion is, that Joan should be got out of the way as quickly

as possible; and I have consulted you, Mr. Levinger, because your

interest in the matter is as strong as my own, and you are the only

person who can get rid of her.”

 

“Why do you say that?” he asked, rising for the second time. “The girl

is of age, and I cannot control her movements.”

 

“Is she? I was not aware of her precise age,” answered Ellen; “but I

have noticed, Mr. Levinger, that you seem to have a great deal of

authority in all sorts of unsuspected places, and perhaps if you think

it over a little you may find that you have some here. For instance, I

believe that you own the Crown and Mitre, and I should fancy, from

what I have seen of her, that Mrs. Gillingwater, the aunt, is a kind

of person who might be approached with some success. There goes the

bell for luncheon, and as I think I have said everything that occurs

to me, I will run up to Emma’s room and wash my hands.”

 

“The bell for luncheon,” mused Mr. Levinger, looking after her. “Well,

I have not often been more glad to hear it. That woman has an alarming

way of putting things; and I wonder how much she knows, or if she was

merely stabbing in the dark? Gone to wash her hands, has she? Yes, I

see, and left me to wash mine, if I can. Anyway, she is sharp as a

needle, and she is right. The man will have no chance with that girl

if she chooses to lay siege to him. Her mother before her was

fascinating enough, and she was nothing compared to Joan, either in

looks or mind. She must be got rid of: but how?” and he looked round

as though searching for a clue, till his eye fell upon the book that

lay open before him.

 

“Holy Living,” he said, shutting it impatiently: “no more of that for

me to-day, or for some time to come. I have other things to think of

now, things that I hoped I had done with. Well, there goes the bell

for luncheon, and I must go too, but without washing my hands,” and he

stared at his delicate fingers. “After all, they do not look so very

dirty; even Ellen Graves will scarcely notice them”; and laughing

bitterly at his own jest he left the room.

 

That afternoon Mr. Levinger had a long conversation with Mrs.

Gillingwater, whom he sent for to see him after Ellen had gone.

 

With the particulars of this interview we need not concern ourselves,

but the name of Samuel Rock was mentioned in it.

 

On the following morning it chanced that Mr. Samuel Rock received a

letter from Mr. Levinger referring to the erection of a cattle-shed

upon some fifty acres of grass land which he held as that gentleman’s

tenant. This cattle-shed Samuel had long desired; indeed, it is not

too much to say that he had clamoured for it, for he did not belong to

that class of tenant which considers the landlord’s pocket, or makes

shift without improvements when they can be had by importunity.

Consequently, as was suggested in the letter, he hastened to present

himself at Monk’s Lodge on that very afternoon, adorned in his

shiniest black coat and his broadest-brimmed wide-awake.

 

“The man looks more like a Methodist parson than ever,” thought Mr.

Levinger, as he watched his advent. “I wonder if she will have

anything to say to him? Well, I must try.”

 

In due course Samuel Rock was shown in, and took the chair that was

offered to him, upon the very edge of which he seated himself in a

gingerly fashion, his broad hat resting on his knee. Mr. Rock’s manner

towards his landlord was neither defiant nor obsequious, but rather an

unhappy combination of these two styles. He did not touch his forehead

according to the custom of the old-times tenant, nor did he offer to

shake hands. His greeting consisted of a jerky bow, lacking alike

dignity and politeness, a half-hearted salute which seemed to aim at

compromise between a certain respect for tradition and a proper sense

of the equality of all men in the sight of Heaven.

 

“How do you do, Mr. Rock?” said Mr. Levinger cheerfully. “I thought

that I would ask you to have a chat with me on the matter of that

cowshed, about which you spoke at the audit last January—rather

strongly, if I remember.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Levinger, sir,” answered Samuel, in a hesitating but

mellifluous voice. “I shall be very glad to speak about it. A shed is

needed on those marshes, sir, where we look to let the cattle lie out

till late in autumn, untempered to all the winds of heaven, which blow

keen down there, and also in the spring; and I hope you see your way

to build one, Mr. Levinger, else I fear that I shall have to give you

notice and find others more accommodating.”

 

“Really! do you think so? Well, if you wish to do that, I am ready to

meet you half way and accept short service, so that you can clear out

next Michaelmas; for I don’t mind telling you that I know another

party who will be glad to take the land.”

 

“Indeed, sir, I was not aware,” answered Samuel, running his fingers

through his straight hair uncomfortably—for the last thing that he

desired was to part with these particular marshes. “Not that I should

wish to stand between a landlord and a better offer in these times.

Still, Mr. Levinger, I don’t hold it right, as between man and man, to

slip like that behind a tenant’s back as has always paid his rent.”

 

The conversation, which was a long one, need not be pursued further.

Samuel was of the opinion that Mr. Levinger should bear the entire

cost of the shed, which the latter declined to do. At length, however,

an arrangement was effected that proved mutually satisfactory; the

“said landlord” agreeing to find all material necessary, and to pay

the skilled labour, and the “said tenant” undertaking to dig the holes

for the posts and to cut the reed for the thatch.

 

“Ah, Mr. Rock,” said Levinger, as he signed a note of their contract,

“it is very well for you to pretend that you are hard up; but I know

well enough, notwithstanding the shocking times, that you are the

warmest man in these parts. You see you began well, with plenty of

capital; and though you rent some, you have been wise enough to keep

your own land in hand, and not trust it to the tender mercies of a

tenant. That, combined with good farming, careful living and hard

work, is what has made you rich, when many others are on the verge of

ruin. You ought to be getting a wife, Mr. Rock, and starting a family

of your own, for if anything happened to you there is nowhere for the

property to go.”

 

“We are in the Lord’s hands, sir, and man is but grass,” answered

Samuel sententiously, though it was clear from his face that he did

not altogether appreciate this allusion to his latter end. “Still,

under the mercy of Heaven, having my health, and always being careful

to avoid chills, I hope to see a good many younger men out yet. And as

for getting married, Mr. Levinger, I think it is the whole duty of

man, or leastways half of it, when he has earned enough to support a

wife and additions which she may bring with her. But the thing is to

find the woman, sir, for it isn’t every girl that a careful Christian

would wish to wed.”

 

“Quite so, Mr. Rock. Have a glass of port, won’t you?”—and Mr.

Levinger poured out some wine from a decanter which stood on the table

and pushed it towards him. Then, taking a little himself by way of

company, he added, “I should have thought that you could find a

suitable person about here.”

 

“Your health, sir,” said Samuel, drinking off the port and setting

down the glass, which Mr. Levinger refilled. “I am not saying, sir,”

he added, “that such a girl cannot be found—I am not even saying that

I have not found such a girl: that’s one thing, marrying is another.”

 

“Ah! indeed,” said Mr. Levinger.

 

Again Samuel lifted his glass and drank half its contents. The wine

was of the nature that is known as “full-bodied,” and, not having

eaten for some hours, it began to take effect on him. Samuel grew

expansive.

 

“I wonder, sir,” he said, “if I might take a liberty? I wonder if I

might ask your advice? I should be grateful if you would give it to

me, for I know that you have the cleverest head of any gentleman in

these parts. Also, sir, you are no talker.”

 

“I shall be delighted if I can be of any service to an old friend and

tenant like yourself,” answered Mr. Levinger airily. “What is the

difficulty?”

 

Samuel finished the second glass of wine, and felt it go ever so

little to his head; for which he was not sorry, as it made him

eloquent.

 

“The difficulty is this, sir. Thank you—just a taste more. I don’t

drink wine myself, as a rule—it is too costly; but this is real good

stuff, and maketh glad the heart of man, as in the Bible. Well, sir,

here it is in a nutshell: I want to marry a girl; I am dead set on it;

but she won’t have me, or at least she puts me off.”

 

“Why not try another, then?”

 

“Because I won’t want no other, Mr. Levinger, sir,” he answered,

suddenly taking fire. The wine had done its work with him, and

moreover this was the one subject that had the power to break through

the cold cunning which was a characteristic of his nature. “I want

this girl or none, and I mean to have her if I wait half a lifetime

for her.”

 

“You are in earnest, at any rate, which is a good augury for your

success. And who may the lady be?”

 

“Who may she be? Why, I thought you knew! There’s only one about here

that she could be. Joan Haste, of course.”

 

“Joan Haste! Ah! Yes, she is a handsome and