Elster's Folly by Mrs. Henry Wood (most important books to read TXT) 📖
- Author: Mrs. Henry Wood
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His Place Might Suit Your Jim!"
"I'm What?" Shrieked Mrs. Jones. "I'm Unjust, Am I--"
An Interruption Occurred, And Mrs. Jones Subsided Into Silence. The
Back-Door Suddenly Opened, Not A Couple Of Yards From That Lady's Head,
And In Came Mrs. Gum In Her Ordinary Indoor Dress, Two Basins In Her
Hand. The Sight Of Her Visitor Appeared To Occasion Her Surprise; She
Uttered A Faint Scream, And Nearly Dropped The Basins.
"Lawk A Mercy! Is It Lydia Jones?"
Mrs. Jones Had Been Drawing A Quiet Deduction--The Clerk Had Said His
Wife Was Out Only To Deceive Her. She Rose From Her Chair, And Faced Him.
"I Thought You Told Me She Was Gone Out?"
The Clerk Coughed. He Looked At His Wife, As If Asking An Explanation.
The Meeker Of The Two Women Hastily Put Her Basins Down, And Stood
Looking From One To The Other, Apparently Recovering Breath.
"Didn't You Go Out?" Asked The Clerk.
"I Was Going, Gum, But Stepped Out First To Collect My Basins, And Then
The Rain Came Down. I Had To Shelter Under The Wood-Shed, It Was
Peppering So."
"Collect Your Basins!" Interjected Mrs. Jones. "Where From?"
"I Put Them Out With Scraps For The Cats."
"The Cats Must Be Well Off In Your Quarter; Better Than Some Children In
Others," Was The Rejoinder, Delivered With An Unnecessary Amount Of
Spite. "What Makes You So Out Of Breath?" She Tartly Asked.
"I Had A Bit Of A Fright," Said The Woman, Simply. "My Breath Seems To
Get Affected At Nothing Of Late, Lydia."
"A Pity But You'd Your Hands Full Of Work, As Mine Are: That's The Best
Remedy For Fright," Said Mrs. Jones Sarcastically. "What Might Your
Fright Have Been, Pray?"
"I Was Standing, Waiting To Dart Over Here, When I Saw A Man Come Across
The Waste Land And Make For Pike's Shed," Said Mrs. Gum, Looking At Her
Husband. "It Gave Me A Turn. We've Never Seen A Soul Go Near The Place Of
An Evening Since Pike Has Been There."
"Why Should It Give You A Turn?" Asked Mrs. Jones, Who Was In A Mood
To Contradict Everything. "You've Seen Pike Often Enough Not To Be
Frightened At Him When He Keeps His Distance."
"It Wasn't Pike, Lydia. The Man Had An Umbrella Over Him, And He Looked
Like A Gentleman. Fancy Pike With An Umbrella!"
"Was It Mr. Hillary?" Interposed The Clerk.
She Shook Her Head. "I Don't Think So; But It Was Getting Too Dark To
See. Any Way, It Gave Me A Turn; And He's Gone Right Up To Pike's Shed."
"Gave You A Turn, Indeed!" Scornfully Repeated Mrs. Jones. "I Think
You're Getting More Of An Idiot Every Day, Nance. It's To Be Hoped
Somebody's Gone To Take Him Up; That's What Is To Be Hoped."
But Mr. Hillary It Was. Hearing Nothing From Jabez Gum All Day, He Had
Come To The Conclusion That That Respectable Man Had Ignored His Promise,
And, Unable To Divest Himself Of The Idea That Pike Was Ill, In The
Evening, Having A Minute To Spare, He Went Forth To See For Himself.
The Shed-Door Was Closed, But Not Fastened, And Mr. Hillary Went In At
Once Without Ceremony. A Lighted Candle Shed Its Rays Around The Rude
Dwelling-Room: And The First Thing He Saw Was A Young Man, Who Did Not
Look In The Least Like Pike, Stretched Upon A Mattress; The Second Was A
Bushy Black Wig And Appurtenances Lying On A Chair; And The Third Was A
Formidable-Looking Pistol, Conveniently Close To The Prostrate Invalid.
Quick As Thought, The Surgeon Laid His Hand Upon The Pistol And Removed
It To A Safe Distance. He Then Bent Over The Sick Man, Examining Him With
His Penetrating Eyes; And What He Saw Struck Him With Consternation So
Great, That He Sat Down On A Chair To Recover Himself, Albeit Not Liable
To Be Overcome By Emotion.
When He Left The Shed--Which Was Not For Nearly Half-An-Hour After He Had
Entered It--He Heard Voices At Clerk Gum's Front-Door. The Storm Was
Over, And Their Visitor Was Departing. Mr. Hillary Took A Moment's
Counsel With Himself, Then Crossed The Stile And Appeared Amongst Them.
Nodding To The Three Collectively, He Gravely Addressed The Clerk And His
Wife.
"I Have Come Here To Ask, In The Name Of Our Common Humanity, Whether You
Will Put Aside Your Prejudices, And Be Christians In A Case Of Need," He
Began. "I Don't Forget That Once, When An Epidemic Was Raging In Calne,
You"--Turning To The Wife--"Were Active And Fearless, Going About And
Nursing The Sick When Almost All Others Held Aloof. Will You Do The Same
Now By A Helpless Man?"
The Woman Trembled All Over. Clerk Gum Looked Questioningly At The
Doctor. Mrs. Jones Was Taking In Everything With Eyes And Ears.
"This Neighbour Of Yours Has Caught The Fever. Some One Must Attend To
Him, Or He Will Lie There And Die. I Thought Perhaps You'd Do It, Mrs.
Gum, For Our Saviour's Sake--If From No Other Motive."
She Trembled Excessively. "I Always Was Terribly Afraid Of That Man, Sir,
Since He Came," Said She, With Marked Hesitation.
"But He Cannot Harm You Now. I Don't Ask You To Go In To Him One Day
After He Is Well Again--If He Recovers. Neither Need You Be With Him
As A Regular Nurse: Only Step In Now And Then To Give Him His Physic,
Or Change The Wet Cloths On His Burning Head."
Mrs. Jones Found Her Voice. The Enormous Impudence Of The Surgeon's
Request Had Caused Its Temporary Extinction.
"I'd See Pike In His Coffin Before I'd Go A-Nigh Him As A Nurse! What On
Earth Will You Be Asking Next, Mr. Hillary?"
"I Didn't Ask You, Mrs. Jones: You Have Your Children To Attend To; Full
Employment For One Pair Of Arms. Mrs. Gum Has Nothing To Do With Her
Time; And Is Near At Hand Besides. Gum, You Stand In Your Place By Dr.
Ashton Every Sunday, And Read Out To Us Of The Loving Mercy Of God: Will
You Urge Your Wife To This Little Work Of Charity For His Sake?"
Jabez Gum Evidently Did Not Know What To Answer. On The One Hand, He
Could Hardly Go Against The Precepts He Had To Respond To As Clerk; On
The Other, There Was His Scorn And Hatred Of The Disreputable Arab.
"He's Such A Loose Character, Sir," He Debated At Length.
"Possibly: When He Is Well. But He Is Ill Now, And Could Not Be Loose If
He Tried. Some One _Must_ Go In Now And Then To See After Him: It Struck
Me That Perhaps Your Wife Would Do It, For Humanity's Sake; And I Thought
I'd Ask Her Before Going Further."
"She Can Do As She Likes," Said Jabez.
Mrs. Gum--As Unresisting In Her Nature As Ever Was Percival
Elster--Yielded To The Prayer Of The Surgeon, And Said She Would Do
What She Could. But She Had Never Shown More Nervousness Over Anything
Than She Was Showing As She Gave Her Answer.
"Then I Will Step Indoors And Give You A Few Plain Directions," Said The
Surgeon. "Mrs. Jones Has Taken Her Departure, I Perceive."
Mrs. Gum Was As Good As Her Word, And Went In With Dire Trepidation.
Calne's Sentiments, On The Whole, Resembled Mrs. Jones's, And The Woman
Was Blamed For Her Yielding Nature. But She Contrived, With The Help Of
Mr. Hillary's Skill, To Bring The Man Through The Fever; And It Was Very
Singular That No Other Person Out Of The Rectory Took It.
The Last One To Take It At The Rectory Was Mrs. Ashton. Of The Three
Servants Who Had It, One Had Died; The Other Two Recovered. Mrs. Ashton
Did Not Take It Until The Rest Were Well, And She Had It Lightly. Anne
Nursed Her And Would Do So; And It Was An Additional Reason For
Prolonging The Veto Against Lord Hartledon.
One Morning In December, Val, In Passing Down The Road, Saw The Rectory
Turned, As He Called It, Inside Out. Every Window Was Thrown Open;
Curtains Were Taken Down; Altogether There Seemed To Be A Comprehensive
Cleaning Going On. At That Moment Mr. Hillary Passed, And Val Arrested
Him, Pointing To The Rectory.
"Yes, They Are Having A Cleansing And Purification. The Family Went Away
This Morning."
"Went Where?" Exclaimed Hartledon, In Amazement.
"Dr. Ashton Has Taken A Cottage Near Ventnor."
"Had Mrs. Ashton Quite Recovered?"
"Quite: Or They Would Not Have Gone. The Rectory Has Had A Clean Bill Of
Health For Some Time Past."
"Then Why Did They Not Let Me Know It?" Exclaimed Val, In His
Astonishment And Anger.
"Perhaps You Didn't Ask," Said The Surgeon. "But No Visitors Were Sought.
Time Enough For That When The House Shall Have Been Fumigated."
"They Might Have Sent To Me," He Cried, In Resentment. "To Go Away And
Never Let Me Know It!"
"They May Have Thought You Were Too Agreeably Engaged To Care To Be
Disturbed," Remarked The Surgeon.
"What Do You Mean?" Demanded Val, Hotly.
Mr. Hillary Laughed. "People Will Talk, You Know; And Rumour Has It That
Lord Hartledon Has Found Attractions In His Own Home, Whilst The Rectory
Was Debarred To Him."
Val Wheeled Round On His Heel, And Walked Away In Displeasure. Home
Truths Are Never Palatable. But The Kindly Disposition Of The Man Resumed
Its Sway Immediately: He Turned Back, And Pointed To The Shed.
"Is That Interesting Patient Of Yours On His Legs Again?"
"He Is Getting Better. The Disease Attacked Him Fiercely And Was
Unusually Prolonged. It's Strange He Should Have Been The Only One To
Take It."
"Gum's Wife Has Been Nursing Him, I Hear?"
"She Has Gone In And Out To Do Such Necessary Offices As The Sick
Require. I Put It To Her From A Christian Point Of View, You See, And On
The Score Of Humanity. She Was At Hand; And That's A Great Thing Where
The Nurse Is Only A Visiting One."
"Look Here, Hillary; Don't Let The Man Want For Anything; See That He Has
All He Needs. He Is A Black Sheep, No Doubt; But Illness Levels Us All To
One Standard. Good Day."
"Good Day, Lord Hartledon."
And When The Surgeon Had Got To A Distance With His Quick Step, Lord
Hartledon Turned Back To The Rectory.
Chapter 15 (Val's Dilemma)
It Was A Mild Day In Spring. The Air Was Balmy, But The Skies Were Grey
And Lowering; And As A Gentleman Strolled Across A Field Adjoining
Hartledon Park He Looked Up At Them More Than Once, As If Asking Whether
They Threatened Rain.
Not That He Had Any Great Personal Interest In The Question. Whether The
Skies Gave Forth Sunshine Or Rain Is Of Little Moment To A Mind Not At
Rest. He Had Only Looked Up In Listlessness. A Stranger Might Have Taken
Him At A Distance For A Gamekeeper: His Coat Was Of Velveteen; His Boots
Were Muddy: But A Nearer Inspection Would Have Removed The Impression.
It Was Lord Hartledon; But Changed Since You Last Saw Him. For Some Time
Past There Had Been A Worn, Weary Look Upon His Face, Bespeaking A Mind
Ill At Ease; The Truth Is, His Conscience Was Not At Rest, And In Time
That Tells On The Countenance.
He Had Been By The Fish-Pond For An Hour. But The Fish Had Not Shown
Themselves Inclined To Bite, And He Grew Too Impatient To Remain.
Not Altogether Impatient At The Wary Fish, But In His Own Mental
Restlessness. The Fishing-Rod Was Carried In His Hand In Pieces; And He
Splashed Along, In A Brown Study, On The Wet Ground, Flinging Himself
Over The Ha-Ha With An Ungracious Movement. Some One Was Approaching
Across The Park From The House, And Lord Hartledon Walked On To A Gate,
And Waited There For Him To Come Up. He Began Beating The Bars With The
Thin End Of The Rod, And--Broke It!
"That's The Way You Use Your Fishing-Rods," Cried The Free, Pleasant
Voice Of The New-Comer. "I Shouldn't Mind Being Appointed Purveyor Of
Tackle To Your Lordship."
The Stranger Was An Active Little Man, Older Than Hartledon; His Features
Were Thin, His Eyes Dark And Luminous. I Think You Have Heard
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