Lady into Fox
Page 8
drooping. But it was her eyes thatheld his, with their slit pupils looking at him with savage desperationand rage.
The blood ran very freely from his hand but he never noticed that or thepain of it either, for all his thoughts were for his wife.
"What is this, Silvia?" he said very quietly, "what is this? Why are youso savage now? If I stand between you and your freedom it is because Ilove you. Is it such torment to be with me?" But Silvia never stirred amuscle.
"You would not do this if you were not in anguish, poor beast, you wantyour freedom. I cannot keep you, I cannot hold you to vows made when youwere a woman. Why, you have forgotten who I am."
The tears then began running down his cheeks, he sobbed, and said toher:
"Go--I shall not keep you. Poor beast, poor beast, I love you, I loveyou. Go if you want to. But if you remember me come back. I shall neverkeep you against your will. Go--go. But kiss me now."
He leant forward then and put his lips to her snarling fangs, but thoughshe kept snarling she did not bite him. Then he got up quickly and wentto the door of the garden that opened into a little paddock against awood.
When he opened it she went through it like an arrow, crossed the paddocklike a puff of smoke and in a moment was gone from his sight. Then,suddenly finding himself alone, Mr. Tebrick came as it were to himselfand ran after her, calling her by name and shouting to her, and so wentplunging into the wood, and through it for about a mile, running almostblindly.
At last when he was worn out he sat down, seeing that she had gonebeyond recovery and it was already night. Then, rising, he walked slowlyhomewards, wearied and spent in spirit. As he went he bound up his handthat was still running with blood. His coat was torn, his hat lost, andhis face scratched right across with briars. Now in cold blood he beganto reflect on what he had done and to repent bitterly having set hiswife free. He had betrayed her so that now, from his act, she must leadthe life of a wild fox for ever, and must undergo all the rigours andhardships of the climate, and all the hazards of a hunted creature. WhenMr. Tebrick got back to the cottage he found Mrs. Cork was sitting upfor him. It was already late.
"What have you done with Mrs. Tebrick, sir? I missed her, and I missedyou, and I have not known what to do, expecting something dreadful hadhappened. I have been sitting up for you half the night. And where isshe now, sir?" She accosted him so vigorously that Mr. Tebrick stoodsilent. At length he said: "I have let her go. She has run away."
"Poor Miss Silvia!" cried the old woman, "Poor creature! You ought to beashamed, sir! Let her go indeed! Poor lady, is that the way for herhusband to talk! It is a disgrace. But I saw it coming from the first."
The old woman was white with fury, she did not mind what she said, butMr. Tebrick was not listening to her. At last he looked at her and sawthat she had just begun to cry, so he went out of the room and up tobed, and lay down as he was, in his clothes, utterly exhausted, and fellinto a dog's sleep, starting up every now and then with horror, and thenfalling back with fatigue. It was late when he woke up, but cold andraw, and he felt cramped in all his limbs. As he lay he heard again thenoise which had woken him--the trotting of several horses, and thevoices of men riding by the house. Mr. Tebrick jumped up and ran to thewindow and then looked out, and the first thing that he saw was agentleman in a pink coat riding at a walk down the lane. At this sightMr. Tebrick waited no longer, but pulling on his boots in mad haste, ranout instantly, meaning to say that they must not hunt, and how his wifewas escaped and they might kill her.
But when he found himself outside the cottage words failed him and furytook possession of him, so that he could only cry out:
"How dare you, you damned blackguard?" And so, with a stick in his hand,he threw himself on the gentleman in the pink coat and seized hishorse's rein, and catching the gentleman by the leg was trying to throwhim. But really it is impossible to say what Mr. Tebrick intended by hisbehaviour or what he would have done, for the gentleman finding himselfsuddenly assaulted in so unexpected a fashion by so strange a touzledand dishevelled figure, clubbed his hunting crop and dealt him a blow onthe temple so that he fell insensible.
Another gentleman rode up at this moment and they were civil enough todismount and carry Mr. Tebrick into the cottage, where they were met byold Nanny who kept wringing her hands and told them Mr. Tebrick's wifehad run away and she was a vixen, and that was the cause that Mr.Tebrick had run out and assaulted them.
The two gentlemen could not help laughing at this; and mounting theirhorses rode on without delay, after telling each other that Mr. Tebrick,whoever he was, was certainly a madman, and the old woman seemed as madas her master.
This story, however, went the rounds of the gentry in those parts andperfectly confirmed everyone in their previous opinion, namely that Mr.Tebrick was mad and his wife had run away from him. The part about herbeing a vixen was laughed at by the few that heard it, but was soon leftout as immaterial to the story, and incredible in itself, thoughafterwards it came to be remembered and its significance to beunderstood. When Mr. Tebrick came to himself it was past noon, and hishead was aching so painfully that he could only call to mind in aconfused way what had happened.
However, he sent off Mrs. Cork's son directly on one of his horses toenquire about the hunt.
At the same time he gave orders to old Nanny that she was to put outfood and water for her mistress, on the chance that she might yet be inthe neighbourhood.
By nightfall Simon was back with the news that the hunt had had a verylong run but had lost one fox, then, drawing a covert, had chopped anold dog fox, and so ended the day's sport.
This put poor Mr. Tebrick in some hopes again, and he rose at once fromhis bed, and went out to the wood and began calling his wife, but wasovercome with faintness, and lay down and so passed the night in theopen, from mere weakness.
In the morning he got back again to the cottage but he had taken achill, and so had to keep his bed for three or four days after.
All this time he had food put out for her every night, but though ratscame to it and ate of it, there were never any prints of a fox.
At last his anxiety began working another way, that is he came to thinkit possible that his vixen would have gone back to Stokoe, so he had hishorses harnessed in the dogcart and brought to the door and then droveover to Rylands, though he was still in a fever, and with a heavy coldupon him. After that he lived always solitary, keeping away from hisfellows and only seeing one man, called Askew, who had been brought up ajockey at Wantage, but was grown too big for his profession. He mountedthis loafing fellow on one of his horses three days a week and had himfollow the hunt and report to him whenever they killed, and if he couldview the fox so much the better, and then he made him describe itminutely, so he should know if it were his Silvia. But he dared nottrust himself to go himself, lest his passion should master him and hemight commit a murder.
Every time there was a hunt in the neighbourhood he set the gates wideopen at Rylands and the house doors also, and taking his gun stoodsentinel in the hope that his wife would run in if she were pressed bythe hounds, and so he could save her. But only once a hunt came near,when two fox-hounds that had lost the main pack strayed on to his landand he shot them instantly and buried them afterwards himself.
It was not long now to the end of the season, as it was the middle ofMarch.
But living as he did at this time, Mr. Tebrick grew more and more to bea true misanthrope. He denied admittance to any that came to visit him,and rarely showed himself to his fellows, but went out chiefly in theearly mornings before people were about, in the hope of seeing hisbeloved fox. Indeed it was only this hope that he would see her againthat kept him alive, for he had become so careless of his own comfort inevery way that he very seldom ate a proper meal, taking no more than acrust of bread with a morsel of cheese in the whole day, thoughsometimes he would drink half a bottle of whiskey to drown his sorrowand to get off to sleep, for sleep fled from him, and no sooner did hebegin dozing but he awoke with a st
art thinking he had heard something.He let his beard grow too, and though he had always been very particularin his person before, he now was utterly careless of it, gave upwashing himself for a week or two at a stretch, and if there was dirtunder his finger nails let it stop there.
All this disorder fed a malignant pleasure in him. For by now he hadcome to hate his fellow men and was embittered against all humandecencies and decorum. For strange to tell he never once in these monthsregretted his dear wife whom he had so much loved. No, all that hegrieved for now was his departed vixen. He was haunted all this time notby the memory of a sweet and gentle woman, but by the recollection of ananimal; a beast it is true that could sit at table and play piquet whenit would, but for all that nothing really but a wild beast. His one hopenow was the recovery of this beast, and of this he dreamed continually.Likewise both waking and sleeping he was visited by visions of her; hermask, her full white-tagged brush, white