Chapter IV.
THE BRIDEGROOM.
Mr. Trask had not concluded the bargain for his winter fodder.Just a week later he rode over from Port Nassau, to clinch it, and hadalmost reached the foot of the descent to the river meadows when abetter mounted rider overtook him.
"Ah!" said the stranger, checking his horse's stride as he passed."Good-morning, Mr. Trask! But possibly you do not remember me?"
"I remember you perfectly," answered Mr. Trask. "You are Sir OliverVyell."
"Whom, once on a time, you sentenced to the stocks. You recall our lastconversation? Well, I bear you no malice; and, to prove it, will askleave to ride to the ferry with you. You will oblige me? I likecompanionship, and my one fellow-traveller--a poor horseman--I have leftsome way behind on the road."
"I have no wish to ride with you, Sir Oliver," said Mr. Trask stiffly."Forbye that I consider ye a son of Belial, I have a particular quarrelwith you. At the time you condescend to mention, I took it upon me togive you some honest advice--not wholly for your own sake. You floutedit, and 'that's nothing to me' you'll say; but every step we takeworsens that very sin against which I warned ye, and therefore I wantnone of your company."
"Honest Mr. Trask," Sir Oliver answered with a laugh. "I put it to youthat, having fallen in together thus agreeably, we shall make ourselvesbut a pair of fools if one rides ahead of the other in dudgeon. Add tothis that the ferry-man, spying us, will wait to tide us over together;and add also, if you will, that I have the better mount and it lies inmy will that you shall neither lag behind nor outstrip me. Moreover,you are mistaken."
"I am not mistaken. This day week I met Ruth Josselin and had speechwith her."
"Satisfactory, I hope?"
"It was not satisfactory; and if I must ride with you, Sir Oliver,you'll understand it to be under protest. You are a lewd man. You havetaken this child--"
Here Mr. Trask choked upon speech. Recovering, he said the mostunexpected thing in the world.
"I am not as a rule a judge of good looks; and no doubt 'tis unreason inme to pity her the more for her comeliness. But as a matter of fact Ido."
Sir Oliver stared at him. "_You_ to pity her! _You_ to plead herbeauty to _me_, who took it out of the mud where you had flung her,mauled by you and left to lie like a bloody clout!"
But the armour of Mr. Trask's self-righteousness was not pierced."I sentenced her," he replied calmly, "for her soul's welfare.Who said--what right have you to assume--that she would have been leftto lie there? Rather, did I not promise you in the market-square that,her chastening over, my cart should fetch her? Did I not keep my word?And could you not read in the action some earnest that the girl would belooked after? Your atheism, sir, makes you dull in spiritualunderstanding."
"I am glad that it does, sir."
"If your passion for Ruth Josselin held an ounce of honesty, you wouldnot be glad; for even in this world you have ruined her."
"Mr. Trask, I have not."
Mr. Trask glanced at him quickly.
"--Upon my honour as a gentleman I have not, neither do I desireit . . . Sir, twice in this half-mile you have prompted me to ask,What, here on this meadow, prevents my killing you? Wait; I know youranswer. You are a courageous man and would say that as a magistrate youhave schooled yourself to accept risks and to despise threats. Yes,"Sir Oliver admitted with a laugh, "you are an infernally hard nut tocrack, and somehow I cannot help liking you for it. Are you spendingthe night yonder, by-the-bye?" He nodded towards the village.
"No, sir. I propose returning this evening to Port Nassau."
"Then it is idle to invite you to my wedding. I am to be married atnine o'clock to-morrow."
Mr. Trask eyed him for a moment or two. Then his gaze wandered ahead tothe river, where already the ferrymen had caught sight of them and werepushing the horse-boat across with long sweeps; and beyond the river toa small wooden-spired church, roofed with mossy shingles that even atthis distance showed green in the slant sunlight.
"Yonder?" he asked.
"Ay: you would have been welcome."
"I will attend," said Mr. Trask. "A friend of mine--a farmer--willlodge me for the night. A hospitable man, who has made the offer ascore of times. After so many refusals I am glad of an excuse foraccepting."
"I stipulate that you keep the excuse a secret from him. It is to bequite private. That," said Sir Oliver, turning in saddle for a lookbehind him, "is one of my reasons for outriding my fellow-traveller."
"The clergyman?"
"Ay . . . To-morrow, maybe, you'll admit to having misjudged us."
"Maybe," Mr. Trask conceded. "I shall at any rate thank God,provisionally. He is merciful. But I have difficulty in believing thatany good can come of it."
Lady Good-for-Nothing: A Man's Portrait of a Woman Page 32