The Blue Pavilions

by Arthur Quiller-Couch

  CHAPTER IV.

  THE TWO PAVILIONS (continued).

  "We must have an apiarium," Captain Barker announced a week later.

  "What's that?" Mr. Swiggs asked.

  "Half a dozen beehives, at least."

  "No room."

  "There is nothing," pursued Captain Barker, "that gives suchcharacter to a garden as an apiarium unless it be fishponds.I will have both."

  "No water."

  "The fishponds shall be constantly supplied with running water.I will have three ponds at different levels, connected with miniaturewaterfalls and approached by an _allee verte_. The glimpse of waterbetween green hedges will be extremely refreshing to the eye.The apiarium shall stand close to these ponds--as Virgil commends:"

  At liquidi fontes et stagna virentia musco Adsint, et tenuis fugiens per gramina rivus

  "--And shall be surrounded with beds of violets and lavender and suchblue flowers as bees especially love. When, Narcissus, I glance overthe hedge at the back of the house and behold Captain Runacles' twoacres lying waste, cumbered like a mining country with the ruins ofhis mechanical toys, I have a mind to--"

  "He'll neither sell nor lend."

  "I perceive that in time we must set about draining so much of themarsh outside as belongs to me. There, if anywhere, the fishpondsmust lie. In the meantime there is a full rood of ground beyond thenorthern hedge that we may consider. By cutting a path through theprivet there and enclosing this parcel, we gain for our bees aquadrangle which will not only give them their proper seclusion, butmay be planted in the classical style without detriment to thegeneral effect of our garden. The privet serving as a screen. . . ."

  Invigorated by Mr. Swiggs's opposition, the little man continued fortwenty minutes to revel in details, and ended by rushing hiscompanion off to examine the ground. In his hot fit he forgot allabout Tristram, who, tired of listening, had slipped away among thegooseberry-bushes, with a half-eaten slice of bread and butter in hishand.

  The fruit proved green and hard--for it was now the third week ofMay--and by the time his bread and butter was eaten the boy had afancy to explore farther. He wandered through the strawberry-beds,and, finding nothing there but disappointment, allowed himself to runlazily after a white butterfly, which led him down to the front ofthe pavilion, over the parterres of budding tulips and across to aneast border gay with heart's-ease, bachelor's buttons, forget-me-notsand purple honesty. The scent of budding yews met him here, blownsoftly across from Captain Runacles' garden. The white butterflybalanced himself on this odorous breeze, and, rising against it,skimmed suddenly over the hedge and dropped out of sight.

  Now there was set, under an archway in this hedge, a blue door, thechinks of which were veiled with cobwebs and the panels streaked withthe silvery tracks of snails. By this _pervius usus_ (as CaptainRunacles called it) the two friends had been used to visit eachother, but since the quarrel it had never been opened. No lock hadbeen fixed upon it, however. Only the passions of two obstinate menhad kept it shut for four years and more.

  The child contemplated this door for a minute, then lifted himself ontip-toe and stretched his hand up towards the rusty latch. It was agood six inches above his reach.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. Nobody was in sight. His eyesfell on a stack of flower-pots left by Narcissus beside the path.He fetched one, set it upside-down in front of the door and climbedatop of it.

  This time he reached the latch and lifted it with some difficulty.His weight pressed the door open and he fell forward, sprawling onhands and knees, into the next garden.

  He picked himself up, and was on the point of fetching a prolongedhowl, but suddenly thought better of it and began to stare instead.

  Barely six paces in front of him, and in the centre of a roundgarden-bed, a small girl was kneeling. She held a rusty table-knife,the blade of which was covered with mould; and as she gazed back athim the boy saw that her face was stained with weeping.

  "Hallo!"

  "Hallo!"

  "I was just thinking of you, little boy, and beginning to despiseyou, when plump--in you tumbled."

  "But, I say--look here, you know--I've been told what despising is,and if you despise me you ought to say why."

  "Because I've been ordered to. I'm going to do it out of this bookhere. Listen: 'A point is that which has no parts and no magnitude,'and that's only the beginning. Oh, my dear, I'll wither you up--youjust wait a bit!"

  She dug the knife viciously into the earth.

  "I don't care," said Tristram affably.

  "P'r'aps you don't know what 'Don't Care' came to?"

  "No, I don't."

  "Well, he came to--a place. It was a good deal deeper down than thishole I'm digging."

  "What's the hole for?"

  "My doll, here. I've got to put away childish things; so I'm goingto cover her right up and never see her face again. Oh! oh!"

  She began to sob as if her heart would break.

  "I wouldn't cry if I were you. I didn't cry just now when I tumbledoff the flower-pot."

  "You don't know what it is to be a mother."

  "No, but I can dig ever so much better than you. Look here.I've got a spade of my own, and I'll show you how to dig properly, ifyou like."

  He ran off and returned with it in less than a minute. In anotherminute they were engrossed in the burial rites, the girl stillplaying at tragedy, but enjoying herself immensely.

  "We must read something over the remains," she announced.

  "Why?"

  "Because it's always done, unless the dead person is buried with astake through his inside."

  "Then we'd better take her out again and put a stake through her;because I can't read."

  "Haven't you begun to learn yet?"

  "No."

  "Well," said Sophia, picking up the Euclid, "you can hold a corner ofthe book and listen to what I read, and perhaps you can repeat someof it after me, you contemptible boy."

  They were standing over the doll's grave, side by side, and chantingin antiphon the fourth proposition of the First Book of Euclid, whenCaptain Runacles came round the corner of the house and halted to rubhis eyes.

  At the sound of his footstep on the gravel Sophia snatched thebook from Tristram and looked desperately round. It was too late.Her father was glaring down upon them both, with his hands behind himand his chin stuck forward.

  "You miserable child!"

  He pronounced it deliberately, syllable by syllable, and turned uponTristram.

  "Will you kindly explain, sir, to what I owe the honour of yourpresence in my garden?"

  Tristram, who had never before been addressed with harshness, failedto understand the tone of this speech, and answered with amiabledirectness--

  "I tumbled in, off a flower-pot."

  "Indeed!"

  "Yes; and I stayed because I liked the girl here."

  "You do her infinite honour."

  "I'm going away now because I'm hungry. But I'll come back againafter dinner, all right."

  "No," said Captain Runacles grimly; "on that point you must allow meto correct you. You infernal young cub, if I catch you here again--"

  "Hi! Captain!" interrupted a voice at the foot of the garden.

  Doctor Beckerleg stood beside the blue gate and held it open to admitanother visitor, whose dress and appearance were unfamiliar to theCaptain. He paused midway in his threat and removed his eyes fromthe children. Sophia crept towards the house, while Tristram seizedhis opportunity and slipped away to the safe side of the privethedge.

  "Let me present," said the Doctor, "Mr. Josias Finch, of Boston, NewEngland."

  "Attorney-at-law," Mr. Finch added, lifting his hat politely.

  He was a little man with a triple chin and small, intelligent eyesthat twinkled deep in a round, fat face. His dress was of aslate-coloured material, decorated with silver buttons, and he wore avoluminous wig.

  "With news for you, Captain."

 
; "Important news," Mr. Finch echoed. He pulled out a silver snuff-boxand offered it to Captain Runacles. "You don't indulge? But youwill suffer me, no doubt. Ah," he went on, inhaling a pinch, "it hasbeen a long journey, sir, and my stomach abhors sea-voyaging."

  "Shall we step into the house?" suggested Captain Runacles.

  "By all means, sir. My business is simple, but may require someelucidation. May I suggest that Dr. Beckerleg accompanies us?He is already acquainted with the drift of my commission, for reasonsI will expound hereafter."

  "Of course. Come in, Doctor." He led the pair into his dining-room."I may as well state, Mr. Finch, that my temper is somewhatimpatient. If you come as a friend, my hospitality is yours for aslong as you care to use it; but I'd take it kindly if you came to theheart of your business at once."

  "To be sure, sir, and a very proper attitude. I plunge, then, intothe middle of affairs. You will doubtless remember SilvanusTellworthy, younger brother of the late Sir Jabez Tellworthy whosevirtues recently ceased to adorn this neighbourhood."

  "Perfectly."

  "His conscience led him to exchange this country, in the thirty-fifthyear of his age, for a soil more amical to his religious opinions."

  "I have heard 'twas for fear of the attentions of a widow in Harwich;but proceed."

  "After amassing a considerable fortune he died, sir, of a paralyticalstroke, upon the 12th of November last."

  "I am sorry to hear it."

  "That was the common expression of Boston at the time. Dismissingfor a more leisurely occasion the consideration of his civic virtues,I may say that I had the honour to possess his confidence in thedouble capacity of friend and legal adviser. It fell to me to drawup his will, some few years before his decease; and now I am left tothe task of giving it effect. He was a childless man, and, with theexception of some trifling legacies to the town of Boston and a fewprivate friends, bequeathed his wealth to his only niece, Margaret,daughter of the Sir Jabez Tellworthy already mentioned, and herheirs."

  Captain Runacles uncrossed his legs and addressed Dr. Beckerleg.

  "Doctor, haven't you brought this gentleman to the wrong pavilion?"

  "Wait a moment."

  "I should rather say," Mr. Finch continued, "that a life interestonly was bestowed upon Margaret Salt, the bulk of the estate going tothe anticipated heirs of her body, and being (also by anticipation)apportioned among them on a principle of division which need notoccupy our attention, for (as it turns out) she has left but onechild. My client made this will soon after receiving the news of hisniece's marriage with Captain Roderick Salt, and before he had anyreason to suspect that gentleman's real character. It was thereforenatural that in selecting a couple of trustees he regarded theCaptain as the man who, of all others, might be reckoned on to lookafter the interests of the child or children. When, however, theunamiable qualities of Captain Salt reached his ear, he woulddoubtless have made some alteration in the will, but for the tidingsof that officer's death in the Low Countries. He had such confidencein the surviving trustee--"

  "Man alive!" Captain Runacles broke in, "if you are talking ofyourself, let me advise you to quit England by the first ship thatsails. The child is already furnished with a guardian--a guardian,my dear sir, who will nullify your legal claim upon the child by thesimple expedient of taking your life."

  "But, excuse me--"

  "You will waive your claim, of course. But let me advise you also toconceal it; for Captain Barker is quite capable, should he get holdof this will, of regarding your mere existence as an insult."

  "But, dear me--if you'll allow me to speak--I am not talking ofmyself."

  "No?"

  "No; I am not the child's legal guardian."

  "I congratulate you. But who is it, then?"

  "It is you, Captain Runacles."

  "What!" The Captain leapt up and glared at Mr. Finch incredulously.

  "Here is a copy of the will; read for yourself. My friend, SilvanusTellworthy, remembered you as a friend of his early days and as a manof probity. He had heard also, from time to time, news of yourpublic actions that increased his esteem. He was informed--pardon meif I mention it--of your sincere and honourable affection for hisniece; and, indeed, hoped, I may say--"

  "No more on that point, if you please."

  "Sir, I am silent, and ask your pardon."

  "But--but--Doctor, this is simply astounding. Do you hear what thisgentleman says?--that I--I alone--am Tristram's guardian after all?"

  Mr. Finch and Dr. Beckerleg exchanged an anxious look. The Doctorcleared his throat and took up the story.

  "No, my dear Captain, I regret that you make one mistake. You said'alone.'"

  "What? Is there another trustee?"

  "There is the man already mentioned--Roderick Salt."

  "Tut, tut--he's dead."

  "I fear, on the contrary, that he's alive."

  "But he was drowned, confound him!"

  "Some meddling Netherlander, cursed with too much humanity, must havebaulked the will of Heaven by dragging him out of the ditch andreviving him. He was rescued, sir, and clapped into prison; escapedby turning traitor and entering the service of the Prince of Orange--in what capacity I dare not say, but likely enough as a spy, orperhaps a kidnapper of soldiers. There are plenty of the trade alongthe frontiers just now. He has changed his name, but has beenrecognised by more than one Harwich man at The Hague, and again atCuxhaven. For a year now I have heard nothing of him. Belike he isoff upon a dirty mission to some German principality no bigger thanyour back-garden; ambassadors of his size are as easy to find on theContinent of Europe as a needle in a bottle of hay. Or maybe hewanders on some gaming campaign of his own."

  The face of Captain Runacles, as the Doctor proceeded, went throughthree rapid changes of colour--white, scarlet and purple.

  "You knew all this?" he shouted, the congested veins standing outupon his temples; "you knew all this, and kept us in the dark?"

  "I did. It affected the child in no way. The fellow clearly knewnothing, or cared nothing, about Tristram. Even supposing--which wasabsurd--that he would wish to burden himself with the boy, I feltpretty sure of Barker's ability to cope with him at the briefestnotice. Moreover, considering his mode of life, I hoped by waiting avery short while to be able to tell you that Captain Salt's careerwas ended by the halter. You see, he was evidently not born to bedrowned, and I drew the usual inference. But Mr. Finch's news puts avery different complexion on the business. Tristram being heir, as Iunderstand, to some fifteen hundred pounds per annum--"

  "Mr. Finch," said the Captain calmly, stepping to the door andlocking it, "have you, by any chance, the intention of seeking out myco-trustee?"

  "H'm: I am bound, sir, to consider my duty as a professional man."

  "Let me entreat you also to reconsider it."

  The little attorney glanced over his shoulder at the closed door.

  "Sir," he replied with dignity, "I perceive that I have beenunfortunate enough to give you a wrong notion of my character.Let me say that, in interpreting my duty, I am even less likely to becoerced by threats than by the strict letter of the law. I will notbe dragooned. And I decide nothing until you have opened that door."

  "And that's mighty well said," commented Dr. Beckerleg.

  Captain Jemmy slipped back the bolt.

  "I shall nevertheless hold you to account," he growled.

  "Thank you; I am accustomed to responsibility. And now let me saythat as the child seems to be in good hands--"

  "On the contrary, he's in outrageously bad ones."

  "--Or rather, in the hands of an upright and kindly gentleman, Ithink we may perhaps agree that these rumours about Captain Saltare--shall we say?--too good to be true. May I ask Dr. Beckerleghere if he believes in ghosts?"

  "Firmly," answered the Doctor, hiding a smile.

  "I have known occasions," the attorney went on, with a serious face,"when a cautious belief in ghosts has proved of the v
ery highestservice in dealing with apparently intractable problems. Or supposewe call it an hypothesis, liable to correction?"

  "That's it," assented the Captain heartily. "I can believe RoderickSalt to be a ghost until he comes to me and proves that he is not."

  "Decidedly."

  "And then I'll make him one."

  The corners of Mr. Finch's mouth twitched perceptibly.

  "Gently, dear sir! Remember, please, that I am only concerned withthe immediate situation. To-morrow I start again for Bristol,leaving the future to be dealt with as your prudence may direct.But I have no doubt," he added, with a bow "that you will act, in allcontingencies, with a single eye to the child's welfare. It isunderstood, then, that the child, Tristram Salt, remains under thecare of Captain Barker, your friend, and his adoptive father--"

  "Not at all."

  "I think so," said Dr. Beckerleg quietly, looking straight into theCaptain's eyes.

  "That's for me to decide, Doctor."

  "Tut, tut! it was decided the moment you were born."

  "I think," Mr. Finch interposed, "it is time I gave Captain Runaclessome necessary information about the boy's inheritance."

  It was close upon four o'clock when the little blue door which, untilthat morning, had remained shut for over four years was opened asecond time and Captain Runacles stepped through into CaptainBarker's domain. His wig was carefully brushed and he carried agold-headed cane. Whatever emotion he may have felt was concealed bythe upright carriage and solemn pace proper to a visit of state.

  Captain Barker, who stood at the lower end of the garden and stoopedover his beloved tulips, started at the sound of footsteps, lookedround, and hastily plucking his wig from the handle of a spade thatstood upright in the mould by his elbow, arranged it upon his baldscalp and awaited the other's advance.

  The pair did not shake hands.

  "I have come to speak with you about--er--Tristram." The name stuckin Captain Jeremy's throat.

  "The boy strayed into your premises to-day. I know it. If you areaggrieved by such a trifle--"

  "I am not. If you doubt the sufficiency of my excuse for callingupon you, let me say at once that I come as the boy's guardian."

  "Upon my word--"

  "As his legal guardian."

  "Bah! This is too much! Do you conceive yourself to be jesting?"

  "Have you ever known me to jest?"

  "Not wilfully."

  "Not, at any rate, upon parchment. Be so good as to run your eyeover this."

  The little man took the copy of Silvanus Tellworthy's will andfumbled it between his fingers.

  "Is this some dirty trick of lawyer's work?"

  "It is."

  "Do you really wish me to read it?"

  "Unless you prefer me to explain."

  "I do--vastly."

  "Very well, then."

  And Captain Runacles proceeded to explain the will in a hard,methodical voice, nodding his head whenever he reached a point ofimportance at the parchment which rustled between Captain Barker'sfingers. For a while this rustle sounded like the whisper of agathering storm.

  "It follows from this," concluded Captain Runacles, "that I amresponsible for the child's upbringing. Can you carry the reasoninga step farther?"

  The little man looked up. The wrath had clean died out of hispuckered face; and in place of it there showed a blank despair,mingled with loathing and unspeakable bitterness of soul.

  "Yes, I can," he replied very slowly, and turning away his face leanta hand on the spade beside him. "Oh, Jemmy, Jemmy!" he muttered.

  There was no entreaty in the words, but they pierced Captain Jemmy'sheart like two stabs of a knife. He took a step forward andstretched out a hand as if to lay it on his old friend's shoulder.The little man jumped aside, faced him again, hissing out one word--

  "_You!_"

  The arm dropped.

  "Jack--I'm sorry; but you have drawn the wrong conclusion."

  The pair looked each other in the face for a moment, and CaptainRunacles went on, but more coldly and as if repeating a task--

  "Yes, the wrong conclusion. For my own part, as you once pointedout, I have a girl. I may add that I propose to train up Sophia; andI haven't the faintest doubt that, in spite of her sex, I can trainher to knock your Tristram into a cocked-hat in every department ofuseful knowledge. At the same time it has occurred to me that, ashis guardian, I am at least bound to give the boy every chance.You are teaching him gardening?"

  Captain Barker nodded, with a face profoundly puzzled.

  "You object to it?" he asked.

  "Decidedly, under your present conditions. You are cramped forspace."

  "We are using every inch between the road and the marsh."

  "You forget my back-garden, which lies waste at present."

  "My dear Jemmy!"

  "By knocking a hole in the party hedge you gain two and a half acresat least. Then, as to water--you depend on the rainfall."

  "That's true."

  "But there's an excellent spring between this and Dovercourt; and theowner will sell."

  "It's half a mile away."

  "God bless my soul! I suppose I am not too old to design a conduit."

  Captain Jack's arm stole into Captain Jemmy's.

  "You'll be saying next," the latter went on, "that I'm too old to setabout draining the marsh. Then, as to sundials: you're amazinglydeficient in sundials. Now half a dozen here and there--and afish-pond or two--unless you'd like to have a moat. I could run youa moat around the back, and keep it supplied with fresh water all theyear round. By the way, talking of moats and fresh water, did I tellyou that Roderick Salt was not drowned, after all?"

  "Eh? How did he die, then?"

  "He's not dead."

  "Good God!"

  "He has been seen at The Hague, and again at Cuxhaven, by men of thisvery port. Beckerleg will give you their names."

  "But you tell me--the will, here, says--that he's joint guardian--"

  "Yes: it's serious, if he finds out. Mr. Finch--I may say I've alarge respect for that attorney--Mr. Finch suggests that it may havebeen his ghost. I think, Jack, we must take that explanation."

  "Rubbish!"

  "Ghosts have some useful properties."

  "Name one or two."

  "Well, to start with, they can be disbelieved in until seen."

  "I begin to see."

  "Then, again, should one appear, he can be believed in and walkedthrough. This is a rule without exceptions. If you have reason tobelieve that a ghost stands before you, your first step would be tomake a hole in him to convince yourself."

  "But if one should be mistaken?"

  "If the apparition gives up the ghost, so to speak, and you findyourself mistaken, I see no harm in owning it. As co-trustee ofaggrieved man, I will at any time listen to your apologies. By theby, I have asked Mr. Finch to call upon you to-morrow and explain histheory, among other matters of business. You will understand that Ibear no affection towards this boy of yours: on the contrary, Isincerely desire my Sophia to shame him with her attainments.It is a mere matter of my duty towards him; and I'll be obliged ifyou keep him, as far as possible, out of my sight. Now about thosedials--"

  Captain Barker understood, but replied only by tightening for amoment the hand that rested on his comrade's sleeve. The old friendsmoved on beside the flower-borders and fell into trivial converse tohide a joy as deep as that of sweethearts who have quarrelled and noware reconciled.