The Captain’s first visitor, the following morning, was Rose, who stepped briskly into the toll-house soon after nine o’clock, cast a critical eye over Mrs Skeffling’s handiwork, wrested from her clutches the torn shirt, and sallied forth into the garden in search of Captain Staple. She found him chopping wood. He greeted her with his disarming smile, and a cheerful good-morning. He then listened with becoming meekness to a comprehensive scold, which, although apparently aimed at the unsuitability of his occupation and his attire, was, as he perfectly understood, a punishment for having dared to discover the trend of her maidenly affections.
‘But chopping wood is capital exercise!’ he said.
‘Capital exercise indeed! I’m sure I don’t know what the world’s coming to! And I’ll thank you, Mr Jack, not to go sending messages to me that you’ll stable Mr Chirk’s mare to please me! I never did! I declare I was never so mortified! I should be a deal better pleased if Mr Chirk would take himself off, and not come bothering me any more, for I’m a respectable woman, and keep company with a highwayman I will not!’
‘No, I do think he must abandon that way of life,’ agreed John.
‘It’s nothing to me what he does!’ said Rose.
‘Poor Chirk!’
Her face puckered. She whisked out her handkerchief and rather fiercely blew her nose. ‘It’s no manner of use, Mr Jack!’ she said, in a muffled tone. ‘You ought to know better than to encourage him! I can’t and I won’t marry a man who might be carried off to gaol any moment!’
‘Certainly not: you would never know a day’s peace! Besides, it’s not at all the thing. But he doesn’t expect you to marry him under such circumstances as that, does he?’
She sat down on the chopping block, and wiped her eyes. ‘No, he says he’ll settle down, and live honest, farming. But talking pays no toll, sir, and where is the money to come from to buy a cottage, let alone a farm?’
The Captain refrained from telling her that Mr Chirk proposed to found his career as an honest farmer on the theft of some traveller’s strong-box, and merely said: ‘Would you marry him, if he were not a highwayman?’
She nodded, and disappeared into the handkerchief again. ‘To think, after all these years, and the offers I’ve had, I should take and fall in love with a common vagabond!’ she said, into its folds. ‘Enough to make my poor mother turn in her grave! For I was brought up respectable, Mr Jack!’
‘So was I, and devilish dull I found it! But Chirk’s a good fellow: I like him. He’s head over ears in love with you, too.’
A convulsive sniff greeted this. ‘Well, if he wants to please me, he’ll stop holding people up, and so I’ve told him. Let him find Brean, like you want him to, and see if he can’t get rid of that Coate out of our house! But I’ll never marry any man while Miss Nell needs me – and need me she will, poor lamb, when the master goes! And that day’s not far distant.’
‘I hope she won’t need you.’
This brought her head up. She looked very hard at him for a minute; and then got briskly to her feet, and shook out her skirts. ‘I hope she won’t, Mr Jack – and that’s the truth!’ She saw his hand held out, and clasped it warmly. ‘I have that torn shirt in my basket, and Mrs Skeffling’s ironing your other one,’ she said, reverting to her usual manner. ‘You won’t find she’s starched the points as they should be, but she’s done her best, and I hope, sir, it’ll be a lesson to you not to go jauntering about the country with only two shirts to your name!’
With these valedictory words, she took her departure; and John returned to his task of chopping wood. He was called from it by a shout of ‘Gate!’ and went through the house to answer it, picking up the book of tickets on the way. A phaeton was drawn up on the Sheffield side of the gate; and holding the reins was Henry Stornaway, wearing a drab coat whose numerous shoulder capes falsely proclaimed his ability to drive to an inch. A pair of showy, half-bred chestnuts, which the Captain mentally wrote down as bone-setters, were harnessed to the vehicle; and Mr Stornaway was unable to produce any coin of less value than five shillings to pay for his sixpenny toll. He said, as John pulled a handful of coins out of his pocket: ‘Hallo! Don’t know you, do I? Where’s the other fellow?’
‘Away, sir,’ replied John, handing him his change.
‘Away? Ay! But where’s he gone to?’
‘Couldn’t say, sir,’ said John, holding up the ticket.
‘Nonsense! If you’re taking his place, of course you know where he is! Come on, now: no humbug!’
Several travellers had asked John what had become of Brean, but none had evinced more than a cursory interest in his whereabouts. He had not previously encountered Henry Stornaway, but he began to have a suspicion of his identity, and did his best to school his features to an expression of stolid stupidity. To every question put to him he returned evasive answers, and noted, with interest, Mr Stornaway’s patent dissatisfaction with these. For some unexplained reason, Brean’s disappearance had discomposed this would-be blood of the Fancy. Abandoning the lofty tone, he descended to cajolery; said, with a wink, that he and Brean were old acquaintances; and invited John, with one hand significantly jingling coins in his pocket, to tell him where Brean might be found.
‘I don’t know, sir. He went off sudden-like,’ John answered. ‘Leaving me to mind the pike,’ he added. ‘I ain’t seen him since, nor heard of him.’
The pale eyes stared down into his; it struck him that there was less colour than ever in cheeks naturally sallow. ‘When did he leave his post? You know that, at all events!’
‘Now, when would it have been?’ pondered John, the very picture of bucolic stupidity. ‘Was it Friday night, or Saturday night?’
‘Come, come, he didn’t go off in the night!’
‘Oh, yes, sir! ’Deed he did! After dark it was,’ John asseverated truthfully. He glanced at the chestnuts, reacting to an unquiet hand on the reins. ‘Horses on the fret, sir!’ he suggested.
‘Damn the horses! Who are you? How do you come to be here?’
‘Name of Staple, sir: cousin of Ned Brean’s!’
‘Oh! Well, it’s no concern of mine!’ Henry said, and drove on, calling over his shoulder: ‘I’m only bound for the village, and shall be back in a few minutes! See you don’t keep me waiting!’
John shut the gate, looking thoughtfully after him. He found that Ben was at his elbow, and glanced down at him. ‘Who was that, Ben?’
‘That rasher o’ wind?’ said Ben disparagingly. ‘That was Mr Stornaway, that was. He’s a slow-top. Drives a couple of puffers.’
John nodded, as though this confirmed his suspicion; and, leaving Ben to look after the gate, went off across the field which lay behind the toll-house to the barn where Beau was stabled.
He was engaged in grooming the big bay when a shadow darkened the doorway, and he glanced over his shoulder, and saw Nell Stornaway standing on the threshold. He put the brush down quickly, and moved to meet her, saying involuntarily: ‘You! I dared not hope I should see you today!’
Her colour was a little heightened, but she replied in a rallying tone: ‘No, indeed! I don’t wonder at it, and am only surprised you can look me in the face after such treachery!’
He was standing immediately before her, smiling down at her, a fair young giant, in stained buckskins and a coarse shirt, open at the neck, and with the sleeves rolled up to show his powerful forearms. ‘What treachery?’ he asked.
‘Dissembler! Did you not betray to Rose that I had divulged her story?’
‘No, only to Chirk!’
‘I shall not allow you to excuse yourself on that head! Such a scold as I have had! You deserve I should lay an information against you with the trustees of the tolls!’
‘Oh, no! For I have had a scold too, you know! Only Rose forgave me!’
‘You made up to her quite scandalously, I daresay! Ah, is this your Beau
?’ She moved towards the horse as she spoke, looking him over with an appraising eye. ‘Oh, you are a very fine fellow: complete to a shade!’ she said, patting the arched neck. ‘Yes, I have some sugar in my pocket, but who told you so, sir? There, then!’ She looked round at John. ‘Did you call him Beau for his good points, or for his Roman nose? My brother told me that the Beau was the name given to the Duke of Wellington, in the Peninsula.’
‘For his nose, of course. Do you like him?’
‘Very much. I should think he can go well upon wind?’
‘Yes, and best pace for thirty minutes – with me up!’
‘That is something indeed! I am glad to have made his acquaintance. I must go now. I came this way, you know, because I had an errand to Mrs Huggate; and by riding across this field, and through the spinney, I evade the toll-gate!’
‘Is that what you wished to do?’
She said lightly: ‘To be sure! Everyone desires to evade tollgates! You must be aware of that!’
‘Of course. I could not help hoping that you came this way to see me. Now tell me what a coxcomb I am – but I know it already!’
The smile wavered on her lips; she looked away. ‘No, indeed! I – that is, Ben told me – and there is something I have been meaning to speak to Mrs Huggate about!’
‘Nell! My love!’
She lifted her head, looking wonderingly up into his face. The next instant she was in his arms, crushed against his great chest. He spoke magical words: ‘Little love! My dear one!’
No one had ever called Miss Stornaway little before, and never had she felt so little, or so weak. Captain Staple was holding her with his left arm only, his right hand being employed in pushing up her chin, but it was far too strong a hold to admit of any possibility of escape. She attempted none, but lifted her face in the most natural way, like a child asking to be kissed. Captain Staple, tightening his hold on this vital, yielding armful in a manner as gratifying as it was uncomfortable, responded to the mute invitation promptly and thoroughly, and forgot the world until Beau, possibly affronted by such behaviour, or perhaps hopeful of further largesse, nudged him with sufficient force to recall him to a sense of his surroundings.
‘Damn the brute!’ said Captain Staple, removing himself and his love to a bench over against the wall. ‘My darling, my darling!’
The masterful Miss Stornaway, discovering suddenly the advantages of a large shoulder, snuggled her cheek into it, and heaved a deep sigh. She also clutched a fold of that coarse shirt, but Captain Staple detached her hand, and carried it to his lips. She was moved to expostulate. ‘This is only the fifth time we have met!’
‘I knew the instant I set eyes on you,’ he said simply.
‘Oh, was it so with you, too?’ She pulled his hand to her exposed cheek, and nursed it there. ‘You stood there, staring at me – such a great stupid! – and I could think of nothing else, all through the Service in Church! And when I stood beside you, I looked up, not down, and felt myself not overgrown in the least, but quite small!’
‘“Just as high as my heart,”’ quoted Captain Staple.
Her fingers tightened on his. ‘John, John!’
From the other end of the barn Beau snorted, and tossed up his head. This drew a gurgle from Miss Stornaway. ‘I don’t think Beau was ever more shocked in his life!’
‘On the contrary! If only I had had the forethought to teach him how to do it, he would bend the knee to you, my treasure!’
She sighed again. ‘He is too wise. I think I must have become infected with your madness. It will not do! I am sure it will not do! I have no fortune – not a penny!’
He sounded amused. ‘What made you think I was hanging out for a rich wife, my love?’
‘Oh, no! But your mother – your sister –’
‘Will adore you! I am more afraid of what your grandfather may say to my pretensions. My fortune I should rather call an independance; and I have no expectations worth the name. Tell me when it will be most convenient for me to visit Sir Peter!’
But at that she drew herself out of his arm, trouble in her face. ‘No, you must not! Please, John, don’t try to see him!’
‘But, my darling – !’
‘Yes, yes, I know what you would say, and indeed I want more than anything that you and he should be acquainted! But I dare not present you to him yet! You see, he insisted on sending for Coate last night, and we are in the greatest anxiety! He seemed not to be disturbed, but Winkfield – his valet – could not be easy about him. He knows him so well, you understand: better than anyone, I think! He thought him too quiet. He has told me since that had Grandpapa but flown into one of his old rages he would not have felt so apprehensive – though Dr Bacup has warned us never to provoke him! He did not go to bed, and he thinks Grandpapa scarcely closed his eyes all night. He desired Joseph to ride over to Dr Bacup’s as soon as it was light, but before the doctor could reach Kellands my grandfather had sent for my cousin to go to him. Winkfield dared not oppose him: he will never tolerate opposition! We don’t know what he said to Henry – or what Henry may have said to him, but he scarcely spoke to Winkfield or to me afterwards, and he looked so old and so white that we were cast into alarm. He is laid down upon his bed now, for Dr Bacup gave him some drops of laudanum, which sent him to sleep. The doctor has charged us most straitly not to vex or to agitate him, but to keep him as quiet as we may, and above all not to permit him to tease himself with worry. We mean to tell him, if he should ask, that Coate has gone away, though Winkfield doubts he will not believe us. Dr Bacup considers he may well rally – he is so strong, you know! – and if he does so, then I will tell him that my absurd gatekeeper is so foolish as to wish to marry me, and ask him if you may come to visit him. You must not try to see him yet!’ She saw that he was looking grave, and laid her hand shyly on his knee. ‘Please, John – !’
He took her hand at once, and held it comfortingly. ‘You must know that I should do nothing to injure your grandfather, Nell. I was only wondering – But you are the judge! My poor girl! I wish I could help you!’
She smiled at him. ‘Oh, if you knew the happiness of knowing you are close, and would come to me, if I called to you! I must go now: I left Rose to watch by my grandfather while Winkfield rests.’
He made no effort to detain her, but got up, saying: ‘You have your horse?’
‘Tethered outside – was not that indiscreet of me? What a ramshackle wife you have chosen, Captain Staple! Good gracious, how comes my hat to be lying on the ground?’
He picked it up, and dusted it. ‘I think it fell off,’ he said. ‘It was confoundedly in the way, you know!’
‘Wretch! You pushed it off, as though I had a dozen hats to my name!’ she said merrily, stretching out her hand for it.
He gave it to her, but before she could put it on again, took her back into his arms. ‘If you must go, kiss me goodbye!’
She drew his head down. ‘Stoop, then, my giant! You are out of my reach!’ There was a pause; she said uncertainly: ‘Let me go now! John, I must go!’
‘Yes,’ he said, releasing her. ‘You must, of course. Come! I’ll put you up in the saddle!’
They went out into the autumn sunlight. He went to fetch her hack from the sheep-fence, to which she had hitched the bridle, and led him up to her, testing the girths before he threw her into the saddle. As she arranged the folds of her skirt, he said: ‘When shall I see you again?’
‘Tomorrow, unless Grandpapa should be ill, or – or there was some other impediment. Henry, by the by, has been asking me the most searching questions about you. I almost fear that he may suspect me of having a tendre for a mere gatekeeper, but I think I fobbed him off.’
‘I don’t think it’s that. He passed the gate this morning, and tried his best to discover what has become of Brean.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘No
thing: I was the very picture of bovine stupidity! He is frightened of something – and I wish I knew what it may be!’
‘What can Henry have to do with Brean?’ she wondered.
‘When we know that we shall perhaps know the whole. Go, now, my love! And remember that I am close to you!’
‘I could not forget that,’ she said simply, and touched her horse with her heel, and rode away.
Captain Staple watched her canter across the field, and went slowly back to finish grooming Beau.
Half an hour later, when he re-entered the toll-house, he found Joseph Lydd in possession of the kitchen. Mr Lydd’s coat hung over the back of a chair, and he was engaged in polishing Beau’s bit. He looked up when the Captain came in, and grinned at him. ‘’Morning, guv’nor! I was coming to look for you, but seeing as how I happened to catch sight of this here bridle, which you brought in to clean – and not before it needed it, if I may make so bold! – I thought I might as well rub it up for you. You’ll find your stirrup irons over there.’
‘Thank you! I’m much obliged to you!’ John said. ‘Draw yourself a glass of beer, and one for me, too! Is Ben on the gate?’
‘In a manner of speaking, he is. He was giving young Biggin pepper ten minutes ago: regular mill they was having, and the claret flowing very free, which it gen’rally does, when a couple of boys get to sparring,’ said Lydd, collecting two glasses and a jug from the cupboard. ‘Howsever, I dessay they’ve thought of something else to do by this time, for they was both blowing when I saw ’em.’
‘Up to mischief, I expect,’ said John, vigorously scrubbing his hands at the sink. ‘What brings you here this morning?’
‘You’re wanted up at the Manor, guv’nor, that’s what.’
John looked quickly over his shoulder at him. ‘Who wants me?’
‘Squire,’ said Lydd, filling the jug. ‘Sent for me first thing, he did. His compliments, and he’ll be happy to see you this evening, if you’ll be so kind as to give him the pleasure of your company. Which, begging your pardon, sir, you better do, because he ain’t taking no for an answer.’
The Toll-Gate Page 13