Elster's Folly by Mrs. Henry Wood (most important books to read TXT) 📖
- Author: Mrs. Henry Wood
Book online «Elster's Folly by Mrs. Henry Wood (most important books to read TXT) 📖». Author Mrs. Henry Wood
A Blush Suffused Her Face, And Lord Hartledon Smiled.
Down Came The Countess-Dowager.
"Here's That Old Dowager Calling To Me. She Never Lets Me Alone. Val Sent
Me Into A Fit Of Laughter Yesterday, Saying She Had Designs On Me For
Maude. Poor Deluded Woman! Yes, Ma'am, I Hear. What Is It?"
Mr. Elster Went Strolling Along On The Banks Of The River, Towards Calne;
Not With Any Particular Purpose, But In His Restless Uneasiness. He Had A
Tender Conscience, And His Past Follies Were Pressing On It Heavily. Of
One Thing He Felt Sure--That He Was More Deeply Involved Than Hartledon
Or Anyone Else Suspected, Perhaps Even Himself. The Way Was Charming In
Fine Weather, Though Less Pleasant In Winter. It Was By No Means A
Frequented Road, And Belonged Of Right To Lord Hartledon Only; But It Was
Open To All. Few Chose It When They Could Traverse The More Ordinary Way.
The Narrow Path On The Green Plain, Sheltered By Trees, Wound In And Out,
Now On The Banks Of The River, Now Hidden Amidst A Portion Of The Wood.
Altogether It Was A Wild And Lonely Pathway; Not One That A Timid Nature
Would Choose On A Dark Night. You Might Sit In The Wood, Which Lay To The
Left, A Whole Day Through, And Never See A Soul.
One Part Of The Walk Was Especially Beautiful. A Green Hollow, Where The
Turf Was Soft As Moss; Open To The River On The Right, With A Glimpse Of
The Lovely Scenery Beyond; And On The Left, The Clustering Trees Of The
Wood. Yet Further, Through A Break In The Trees, Might Be Seen A View Of
The Houses Of Calne. A Little Stream, Or Rivulet, Trickled From The Wood,
And A Rustic Bridge--More For Ornament Than Use, For A Man With Long Legs
Could Stride The Stream Well--Was Thrown Over It. Val Had Reached Thus
Far, When He Saw Someone Standing On The Bridge, His Arms On The Parapet,
Apparently In A Brown Study.
A Dark, Wild-Looking Man, Whose Face, At The First Glimpse, Seemed All
Hair. There Was Certainly A Profusion Of It; Eyebrows, Beard, Whiskers,
All Heavy, And Black As Night. He Was Attired In Loose Fustian Clothes
With A Red Handkerchief Wound Round His Throat, And A Low Slouching
Hat--One Of Those Called Wide-Awake--Partially Concealed His Features. By
His Side Stood Another Man In Plain, Dark, Rather Seedy Clothes, The Coat
Outrageously Long. He Wore A Cloth Hat, Whose Brim Hid His Face, And He
Was Smoking A Cigar. Both Men Were Slightly Built And Under Middle
Height. This One Was Adorned With Red Whiskers.
The Moment Mr. Elster Set Eyes On The Dark One, He Felt That He Saw The
Man Pike Before Him. It Happened That He Had Not Met Him During These Few
Days Of His Sojourn; But Some Of The Men Staying At Hartledon Had, And
Had Said What A Loose Specimen He Appeared To Be. The Other Was A
Stranger, And Did Not Look Like A Countryman At All.
Mr. Elster Saw Them Both Give A Sharp Look At Him As He Approached;
And Then They Spoke Together. Both Stepped Off The Bridge, As Though
Deferring To Him, And Stood Aside As They Watched Him Cross Over, Pike
Touching His Wide-Awake.
"Good-Day, My Lord."
Val Nodded By Way Of Answer, And Continued His Stroll Onwards. In The
Look He Had Taken At Pike, It Struck Him He Had Seen The Face Before:
Something In The Countenance Seemed Familiar To His Memory. And To His
Surprise He Saw That The Man Was Young.
The Supposed Reminiscence Did Not Trouble Him: He Was Too Pre-Occupied
With Thoughts Of His Own Affairs To Have Leisure For Mr. Pike's. A Short
Bit Of Road, And This Rude, Sheltered Part Of The Way Terminated In More
Open Ground, Where Three Paths Diverged: One To The Front Of Hartledon;
One To Some Cottages, And On Through The Wood To The High-Road; And One
Towards The Rectory And Calne. Rural Paths Still, All Of Them; And The
Last Was Provided With A Bench Or Two. Val Elster Strolled On Almost To
The Rectory, And Then Turned Back: He Had No Errand At Calne, And The
Rectory He Would Rather Keep Out Of Just Now. When He Reached The Little
Bridge Pike Was On It Alone; The Other Had Disappeared. As Before, He
Stepped Off To Make Way For Mr. Elster.
"I Beg Pardon, Sir, For Addressing You Just Now As Lord Hartledon."
The Salutation Took Val By Surprise; And Though The Voice Seemed Muffled,
As Though The Man Purposely Mouthed His Words, The Accent And Language
Were Superior To Anything He Might Have Expected From One Of Mr. Pike's
Appearance And Reputed Character.
"No Matter," Said Val, Courteous Even To Pike, In His Kindly Nature. "You
Mistook Me For My Brother. Many Do."
"Not I," Returned The Man, Assuming A Freedom And A Roughness At Variance
With His Evident Intelligence. "I Know You For The Honourable Percival
Elster."
"Ah," Said Mr. Elster, A Slight Curiosity Stirring His Mind, But Not
Sufficient To Induce Him To Follow It Up.
"But I Like To Do A Good Turn If I Can," Pursued Pike; "And I Think, Sir,
I Did One To You In Calling You Lord Hartledon."
Val Elster Had Been Passing On. He Turned And Looked At The Man.
"Are You In Any Little Temporary Difficulty, Might I Ask?" Continued
Pike. "No Offense, Sir; Princes Have Been In Such Before Now."
Val Elster Was So Supremely Conscious, Especially In That Reflective
Hour, Of Being In A "Little Difficulty" That Might Prove More Than
Temporary, That He Could Only Stare At The Questioner And Wait For More.
"No Offence Again, If I'm Wrong," Resumed Pike; "But If That Man You Saw
Here On The Bridge Is Not Looking After The Honourable Mr. Elster, I'm A
Fool."
"Why Do You Think This?" Inquired Val, Too Fully Aware That The Fact Was
A Likely One To Attempt Any Reproof Or Disavowal.
"I'll Tell You," Said Pike; "I've Said I Don't Mind Doing A Good Turn
When I Can. The Man Arrived Here This Morning By The Slow Six Train From
London. He Went Into The Stag And Had His Breakfast, And Has Been
Covertly Dodging About Ever Since. He Inquired His Way To Hartledon. The
Landlord Of The Stag Asked Him What He Wanted There, And Got For Answer
That His Brother Was One Of The Grooms In My Lord's Service. Bosh! He
Went Up, Sneaking Under The Hedges And Along By-Ways, And Took A View Of
The House, Standing A Good Hour Behind A Tree While He Did It. I Was
Watching Him."
It Instantly Struck Percival Elster, By One Of Those Flashes Of
Conviction That Are No Less Sure Than Subtle, That Mr. Pike's Interest In
This Watching Arose From A Fear That The Stranger Might Have Been Looking
After _Him_. Pike Continued:
"After He Had Taken His Fill Of Waiting, He Came Dodging Down This Way,
And I Got Into Conversation With Him. He Wanted To Know Who I Was. A Poor
Devil Out Of Work, I Told Him; A Soldier Once, But Maimed And Good For
Little Now. We Got Chatty. I Let Him Think He Might Trust Me, And He
Began Asking No End Of Questions About Mr. Elster: Whether He Went Out
Much, What Were His Hours For Going Out, Which Road He Mostly Took In His
Walks, And How He Could Know Him From His Brother The Earl; He Had Heard
They Were Alike. The Hound Was Puzzled; He Had Seen A Dozen Swells Come
Out Of Hartledon, Any One Of Which Might Be Mr. Elster; But I Found He
Had The Description Pretty Accurate. Whilst We Were Talking, Who Should
Come Into View But Yourself! 'This Is Him!' Cried He. 'Not A Bit Of It,'
Said I, Carelessly; 'That's My Lord.' Now You Know, Sir, Why I Saluted
You As Lord Hartledon."
"Where Is He Now?" Asked Percival Elster, Feeling That He Owed His
Present State Of Liberty To This Lawless Man.
Pike Pointed To The Narrow Path In The Wood, Leading To The High-Road.
"I Filled Him Up With The Belief That The Way Beyond This Bridge Up To
Hartledon Was Private, And He Might Be Taken Up For Trespassing If He
Attempted To Follow It; So He Went Off That Way To Watch The Front. If
The Fellow Hasn't A Writ In His Pocket, Or Something Worse, Call Me A
Simpleton. You Are All Right, Sir, As Long As He Takes You For Lord
Hartledon."
But There Was Little Chance The Fellow Could Long Take Him For Lord
Hartledon, And Percival Elster Felt Himself Attacked With A Shiver. He
Knew It To Be Worse Than A Writ; It Was An Arrest. An Arrest Is Not A
Pleasant Affair For Any One; But A Strong Opinion--A Certainty--Seized
Upon Val's Mind That This Would Bring Forth Dr. Ashton's Veto Of
Separation From Anne.
"I Thank You For What You Have Done," Frankly Spoke Mr. Elster.
"It's Nothing, Sir. He'll Be Dodging About After His Prey; But I'll Dodge
About Too, And Thwart His Game If I Can, Though I Have To Swear That Lord
Hartledon's Not Himself. What's An Oath, More Or Less, To Me?"
"Where Have I Seen You Before?" Asked Val.
"Hard To Say," Returned Pike. "I Have Knocked About In Many Parts In My
Time."
"Are You From This Neighbourhood?"
"Never Was In These Parts At All Till A Year Or So Ago. It's Not Two
Years Yet."
"What Are You Doing Here?"
"What I Can. A Bit Of Work When I Can Get It Given To Me. I Went Tramping
The Country After I Left The Regiment--"
"Then You Have Been A Soldier?" Interrupted Mr. Elster.
"Yes, Sir. In Tramping The Country I Came Upon This Place: I Crept Into
A Shed, And Was There For Some Days; Rheumatism Took Hold Of Me, And I
Couldn't Move. It Was Something To Find I Had A Roof Of Any Sort Over My
Head, And Was Let Lie In It Unmolested: And When I Got Better I Stayed
On."
"And Have Adopted It As Your Own, Putting A Window And A Chimney Into It!
But Do You Know That Lord Hartledon May Not Choose To Retain You As A
Tenant?"
"If Lord Hartledon Should Think Of Ousting Me, I Would Ask Mr. Elster To
Intercede, In Requital For The Good Turn I've Done Him This Day," Was The
Bold Answer.
Mr. Elster Laughed. "What Is Your Name?"
"Tom Pike."
"I Hear A Great Deal Said Of You, Pike, That's Not Pleasant; That You Are
A Poacher, And A--"
"Let Them That Say So Prove It," Interrupted Pike, His Dark Brows
Contracting.
"But How Do You Manage To Live?"
"That's My Business, And Not Calne's. At Any Rate, Mr. Elster, I Don't
Steal."
"I Heard A Worse Hint Dropped Of You Than Any I Have Mentioned,"
Continued Val, After A Pause.
"Tell It Out, Sir. Let's Have The Whole Catalogue At Once."
"That The Night My Brother, Mr. Elster, Was Shot, You Were Out With The
Poachers."
"I Dare Say You Heard That I Shot Him, For I Know It Has Been Said,"
Fiercely Cried The Man. "It's A Black Lie!--And The Time May Come When I
Shall Ram It Down Calne's Throat. I Swear That I Never Fired A Shot That
Night; I Swear That I No More Had A Hand In Mr. Elster's Death Than You
Had. Will You Believe Me, Sir?"
The Accents Of Truth Are Rarely To Be Mistaken, And Val Was Certain He
Heard Them Now. So Far, He Believed The Man; And From That Moment
Dismissed The Doubt From His Mind, If Indeed He Had Not Dismissed It
Before.
"Do You Know Who Did Fire The Shot?"
"I Do Not; I Was Not Out At All That Night. Calne Pitched Upon Me,
Because There Was No One Else In Particular To Pitch Upon. A Dozen
Poachers Were In The Fray, Most Of Them With Guns; Little Wonder The
Random Shot From One Should Have Found A Mark. I Know Nothing More
Certain Than That, So Help--"
"That Will Do," Interrupted Mr. Elster, Arresting What Might Be Coming;
For He Disliked Strong Language. "I Believe You Fully, Pike. What Part Of
The Country Were You Born In?"
"London. Born And Bred In It."
"That I Do Not Believe," He Said Frankly. "Your Accent Is Not That Of A
Londoner."
"As You Will, Sir," Returned Pike. "My Mother Was From Devonshire; But I
Was Born And Bred In London. I Recognized That One With The Writ For A
Fellow Cockney At Once; And For What He Was, Too--A Sheriffs Officer.
Shouldn't Be Surprised But I Knew Him For One Years Ago."
Val Elster Dropped A Coin Into The Man's Hand, And Bade Him Good Morning.
Pike Touched His Wide-Awake, And Reiterated His Intention Of "Dodging The
Enemy." But, As Mr. Elster
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