Lochinvar: A Novel
Page 27
CHAPTER XXIV
MADCAP MEHITABEL
The long-boat grated on the beach and Wise Jan was the first ashore.Scarlett and Wat disembarked in more leisurely fashion, and stretchedthemselves luxuriously after their long and cramped boat voyage.
They were employing themselves in taking out of the stern such articlesas they had stowed there, when a challenging voice rang out clear andhigh from the woods above.
"Jan Pettigrew! Jan Pettigrew!" it cried, "what do you here with ourlong-boat? Why are you not in the Low Countries, making love to thelittle Dutch maids with faces like flat-irons?"
"No, they ain't neither," cried Wise Jan, apparently not at allastonished, making a face in the direction of his unseen querist;"they're a sight better-looking than you be--and they comb their hair!"
He looked apologetically at Scarlett.
"Heed her not," he said, in a low voice, "'tis but crosspatch MehitabelSmith, our master's daughter. He has spoilt her by sparing of the wandto beat her with when she was young, and now that she is grown--andwell grown, too--she will be forever climbing trees and crying uncivilwords to decent folk as they go by, and all, as she counts it, formerriment and mischief-making."
"Ah, Jan! Wise Jan Pettigrew," the voice went on, "Jan that drank thecow's milk and gave the calf water, because it was better for itsstomach--you are right early astir. And who are the brisk lads withyou? I know not that my father will be pleased to see strangers onBranksea. Hold up your head, Jan, and learn to answer a lady civilly.You have surely forgot or mislaid all the manners you ever had. Shutyour mouth, Jan--I do advise it; and do not, I pray you, so mump withyour chin and wamble with your legs!"
"Madcap!" cried Jan, stung by the pointed allusions to his defects ofperson, "my legs are as straight as yours be, and serve me well, albeitI wrap them not, as women do, in clouts and petticoats. And at leastif my legs are crooked and my jaw slack my eyes are straight set in myhead."
"And if eyes do look two ways," retorted the voice out of the unseen,"'tis only with trying to keep them on the antics of both JanPettigrew's legs at once; for your knees do so knock together likeSpanish castanets, and your legs so jimble-jamble in their sockets,that 'tis as good as a puppet-with-strings dancing at the fair just towatch 'em!"
Jan looked still more apologetically at Scarlett.
"I am black ashamed," he said; "but, after all, she means no harm byit. She has never had any one to teach her religion or good manners,but has run wild here on Branksea among the goats and the ignorantsailormen."
"I hear thee, Wise Jan," cried the voice again; "tell no lying tales onyour betters, or I in my turn will tell the tale of how Wise Jan wentto Portsmouth--how the watch bade him go in and bathe, because that thelukewarm town's-water was good for warts. And when he had gone in, gladat heart to hear the marvel, being exceedingly warty, the watch stolehis clothes, and then put him a week in Bridewell for walking of thestreets without them in sight of the admiral's mother-in-law!"
"'Tis a lie!" shouted Jan, looking up from the boat, out of which hehad carefully extracted all the various belongings he had broughtwith him; "a great and manifest lie it is! It was, as all men know,for fighting with six sailormen of the fleet that I was shut up inBridewell."
"Wise Jan, Wise Jan, think upon what parson says concerning the day ofjudgment!" replied the voice, reproachfully. "For if thus you deny yourtrue doings and confess them not, you will set all the little devilsdown below to the carrying of firewood to be ready against the day ofyour hanging."
Wise Jan did not deign to reply. He resigned the unequal wordy fray,and taking a back-load of stuff on his shoulders, he led the way up theneatly gravelled path, which wound from the little wooden landing-stageinto the green and arching woods.
As Scarlett and Wat followed after and looked about them with muchinterest, a tall maid, clad in a blue skirt and figured blouse, andwith her short tangles of hair blowing loose about her ears, droppedsuddenly and lightly as a brown squirrel upon the path before them.Whereat Wat and Scarlett stopped as sharply as if a gun had been loosedoff at them; for the girl had handed herself unceremoniously downfrom among the leaves, and there she stood right in their path, aslittle disconcerted as if that were the customary method of receivingstrangers upon the Isle of Branksea.
"I bid you welcome, gentlemen," she said, bowing to them like acourteous boy of the court. Indeed, her kirtle was not much longer thanmany a boy's Sunday coat, and her hair, cropped short and very curly,had a boy's cap set carelessly upon the back of it.
Scarlett stared vaguely at the pleasant apparition.
"The Lord have mercy!" he said, as if to himself; "is this another ofthem? 'Tis indeed high time we found that runaway love."
But Wat Gordon, to whom courtesy to women came by nature, placedhimself before the old soldier. He had his cap in his hand and bowedright gracefully. Scarlett might cozen Wise Jan an he liked; but he,Wat Gordon, at least knew better how to speak to a woman than did anyancient Mustache of the Wars.
"My Lady of the Isle," he said, in the manner of the time, "I thank youfor your most courteous and unexpected welcome. We are two exiles fromHolland, escaping from prison. This good gentleman of yours has helpedus to set our feet again upon the shores of Britain, and in return wehave aided him to restore his master's property."
The girl listened with her head at the side, like a bird making up itsmind whether or not to fly. When Wat was half-way through with hisaddress she yawned.
"That is a long sermon and very dull," she said; "one might almost aswell have been in church. Come to breakfast."
So, much crestfallen, Wat followed meekly in the wake of Scarlett,whose shoulders were shaking at the downfall of the squire of dames.At the corner of the path, just where it opened out upon a made roadof beaten earth, Jack Scarlett turned with the obvious intention ofventuring a facetious remark, but Wat met him in the face with a snarlso fierce that for peace' sake he thought better of it and relapsedinto covertly smiling silence.
"If you crack so much as one of your rusty japes upon me, JackScarlett, I declare I'll set the point of my knife in your fat back!"he said, viciously.
And for the rest of the way Scarlett laughed inwardly, while Watfollowed, plodding along sullenly and in an exceedingly evil temper.
The house to which they went was a curious one for the time andcountry. It was built wholly of wood, with eaves that came down fiveor six feet over the walls, so that they formed a continuous shelterall about the house, very pleasant in hot weather. A wooden floor,scrubbed very white and with mats of foreign grasses and straw uponit, went all around under these wide eaves. Twisted shells, shiningstones, and many other remarkable and outlandish curiosities were setin corners or displayed in niches.
At the outer door the girl turned sharply upon them.
"My name is Mehitabel Smith," she said, "and this is my father's house.I like your looks well enough, but I would also know your degree andyour business. For Branksea is for the nonce in my keeping, and thatyou have come with Wise Jan Pettigrew is no recommendation--since,indeed, the creature takes up with every wastrel and run-the-country hecan pick up."
Wat had not got over the rebuff of his first introduction, and sulkilydeclined to speak; but Scarlett hastened to assure Mistress Mehitabelof the great consideration Wat and he enjoyed both at home and abroad.
"And for what were you in prison in Holland?" she said. "Was _he_ inprison?" she continued, without waiting for any answer, looking at Wat.
Scarlett nodded. He had it on the tip of his tongue to say that it hadbeen owing to a brawl in a tavern. But at the last moment, seeing Wat'sdejected countenance, he made a little significant gesture of drawinghis hand across his throat.
"High-treason--a hanging or heading matter!" he answered, nodding hishead very gravely.
The girl looked at Wat with a sudden access of interest.
"Lord, Lord, I would that I lived in Holland! High-treason, and at hisage!" she exclaimed. "What chances must he not have
had!"
Without further questioning concerning antecedents and character, sheled the way within. They passed through a wide hall, and down a gallerypainted of a pleasant pale green, into a neat kitchen with windows thatopened outward, and which had a brick-built fireplace and a wide Dutchchimney at the end. Brass preserving pans, shining skillets, and tincolanders made a brave show, set in a sort of diminishing perspectiveupon the walls.
"Now if ye want breakfast ye must e'en put to your hand and help meto set the fire agoing, Gray Badger!" she cried, suddenly, looking atScarlett. "Go get water to the spring. It is but a hundred yards beyondthat oak in the hollow. And you, young Master High Treason, catch holdof that knife and set your white, high-treasonable hands to slicing thebacon."