Springhaven: A Tale of the Great War

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by R. D. Blackmore


  CHAPTER VII

  A SQUADRON IN THE DOWNS

  "My dear girls, all your courage is gone," said Admiral Darling to hisdaughters at luncheon, that same Monday; "departed perhaps with LordNelson and Frank. I hate the new style of such come-and-go visits, asif there was no time for anything. Directly a man knows the ways of thehouse, and you can take him easily, off he goes. Just like Hurry, henever can stop quiet. He talks as if peace was the joy of his life, anda quiet farm his paradise, and very likely he believes it. But my beliefis that a year of peace would kill him, now that he has made himself sofamous. When that sort of thing begins, it seems as if it must go on."

  "But, father dear," exclaimed the elder daughter, "you could have doneevery single thing that Lord Nelson has ever contrived to do, if youhad only happened to be there, and equally eager for destruction. Ihave heard you say many times, though not of course before him, that youcould have managed the battle of the Nile considerably better than hedid. And instead of allowing the great vessel to blow up, you would havebrought her safe to Spithead."

  "My dear, you must have quite misunderstood me. Be sure that you neverexpress such opinions, which are entirely your own, in the presenceof naval officers. Though I will not say that they are quite withoutfoundation."

  "Why, papa," cried Miss Dolly, who was very truthful, when her owninterests were not involved, "you have often said twice as much as that.How well I remember having heard you say--"

  "You young people always back up one another, and you don't care whatyou make your poor father say. I wonder you don't vow that I declaredI could jump over the moon with my uniform on. But I'll tell you whatwe'll do, to bring back your senses--we will go for a long ride thisfine afternoon. I've a great mind to go as far as Stonnington."

  "Now how many times have you told us that? I won't believe it till weget there," young Dolly answered, with her bright eyes full of joy. "Youmust be ashamed of yourself, papa, for neglecting your old friend's sonso long."

  "Well, to tell you the truth, I am, my dear," confessed the good-naturedAdmiral; "but no one but myself has the least idea of the quantity ofthings I have to do."

  "Exactly what old Swipes said this very morning, only much moreimpressively. And I really did believe him, till I saw a yellow jug, anda horn that holds a pint, in the summer-house. He threw his coat overthem, but it was too late."

  "Dolly, I shall have to put you in the blackhole. You belong too muchto the rising generation, or the upstart generation is the proper word.What would Lord Nelson say? I must have him back again. He is the manfor strict discipline."

  "Oh, I want to ask one thing about my great godfather. You know he onlycame down with one portmanteau, and his cocked-hat box, and two hampers.But when I went into his bedroom to see, as a goddaughter should, thathis pillow was smooth, there he had got tacked up at the head of hisbed a picture of some very beautiful lady, and another at the side, andanother at the foot! And Jenny Shanks, who couldn't help peeping in, tosee how a great hero goes to sleep, wishes that she may be an old maidforever if she did not see him say his prayers to them. Now the samefate befall me if I don't find out who it is. You must know, papa, soyou had better tell at once."

  "That hussy shall leave the house tomorrow. I never heard of anything soshameless. Mrs. Cloam seems to have no authority whatever. And youtoo, Dolly, had no business there. If any one went to see the roomcomfortable, it should have been Faith, as the lady of the house. Eversince you persuaded me that you were too old for a governess, you seemto be under no discipline at all."

  "Now you know that you don't mean that, papa. You say those cruel thingsjust to make me kiss you," cried Dolly, with the action suited to theword, and with her bright hair falling upon his snowy beard the fathercould not help returning the salute; "but I must know who that lady is.And what can he want with three pictures of her?"

  "How should I know, Dolly? Perhaps it is his mother, or perhaps it isthe Queen of Naples, who made a Duke of him for what he did out there.Now be quick, both of you, or no ride to-day. It is fifteen long milesto Stonnington, I am sure, and I am not going to break my neck. Asit is, we must put dinner off till half past six, and we shall all bestarved by that time. Quick, girls, quick! I can only give you twentyminutes."

  The Admiral, riding with all the vigor of an ancient mariner, lookedwell between his two fair daughters, as they turned their horses' headsinland, and made over the downs for Stonnington. Here was beautifulcantering ground, without much furze or many rabbit-holes, and lovelyair flowing over green waves of land, to greet and to deepen the roseupon young cheeks. Behind them was the broad sea, looking steadfast,and spread with slowly travelling tints; before them and around lay thebeauty of the earth, with the goodness of the sky thrown over it. Thebright world quivered with the breath of spring, and her smile was shedon everything.

  "What a lovely country we have been through! I should like to come hereevery day," said Faith, as they struck into the London road again. "IfStonnington is as nice as this, Mr. Scudamore must be happy there."

  "Well, we shall see," her father answered. "My business has been uponthe coast so much, that I know very little about Stonnington. ButScudamore has such a happy nature that nothing would come much amiss tohim. You know why he is here, of course?"

  "No, I don't, papa. You are getting so mysterious that you never tell usanything now," replied Dolly. "I only know that he was in the navy, andnow he is in a grammar school. The last time I saw him he was about ayard high."

  "He is a good bit short of two yards now," said the Admiral, smiling ashe thought of him, "but quite tall enough for a sailor, Dolly, and themost active young man I ever saw in my life, every inch of him sound andquick and true. I shall think very little of your judgment unless youlike him heartily; not at first, perhaps, because he is so shy, but assoon as you begin to know him. I mean to ask him to come down as soonas he can get a holiday. His captain told me, when he served in theDiomede, that there was not a man in the ship to come near him fornimbleness and quiet fearlessness."

  "Then what made him take to his books again? Oh, how terribly dull hemust find them! Why, that must be Stonnington church, on the hill!"

  "Yes, and the old grammar school close by. I was very near going thereonce myself, but they sent me to Winchester instead. It was partlythrough me that he got his berth here, though not much to thank me for,I am afraid. Sixty pounds a year and his rations isn't much for a manwho has been at Cambridge. But even that he could not get in the navywhen the slack time came last year. He held no commission, like manyother fine young fellows, but had entered as a first-class volunteer.And so he had no rating when this vile peace was patched up--excuse me,my dear, what I meant to say was, when the blessings of tranquillitywere restored. And before that his father, my dear old friend, died verysuddenly, as you have heard me say, without leaving more than would buryhim. Don't talk any more of it. It makes me sad to think of it."

  "But," persisted Dolly, "I could never understand why a famous man likeSir Edmond Scudamore--a physician in large practice, and head doctor tothe King, as you have often told us--could possibly have died in thatsort of way, without leaving any money, or at least a quantity ofvaluable furniture and jewels. And he had not a number of children,papa, to spend all his money, as I do yours, whenever I get the chance;though you are growing so dreadfully stingy now that I never can lookeven decent."

  "My dear, it is a very long sad story. Not about my stinginess, Imean--though that is a sad story, in another sense, but will not move mycompassion. As to Sir Edmond, I can only tell you now that, while he wasa man of great scientific knowledge, he knew very little indeed of moneymatters, and was not only far too generous, but what is a thousandtimes worse, too trustful. Being of an honorable race himself, and anhonorable sample of it, he supposed that a man of good family must bea gentleman; which is not always the case. He advanced large sums ofmoney, and signed bonds for a gentleman, or rather a man of that rank,whose name does not concern you; and by that man
he was vilely betrayed;and I would rather not tell you the rest of it. Poor Blyth had to leaveCambridge first, where he was sure to have done very well indeed, and athis wish he was sent afloat, where he would have done even better; andthen, as his father's troubles deepened, and ended in his death of heartcomplaint, the poor boy was left to keep his broken-hearted mother uponnothing but a Latin Grammar. And I fear it is like a purser's dip. Buthere we are at Stonnington--a long steep pitch. Let us slacken sail, mydears, as we have brought no cockswain. Neither of you need land, youknow, but I shall go into the schoolroom."

  "One thing I want to know," said the active-minded Dolly, as the horsescame blowing their breath up the hill: "if his father was Sir Edmond,and he is the only child, according to all the laws of nature, he oughtto be Sir Blyth Scudamore."

  "It shows how little you have been out--as good Mrs. Twemlow expressesit--that you do not even understand the laws of nature as between abaronet and a knight."

  "Oh, to be sure; I recollect! How very stupid of me! The one goes on,and the other doesn't, after the individual stops. But whose fault isit that I go out so little? So you see you are caught in your own trap,papa."

 

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