The Root of All Evil

by J. S. Fletcher

  CHAPTER VI

  _Obsession_

  Before noon the next day the two Londoners, for whom Jeckie Farnish hadno further use, had shaken the Savilestowe dirt from off their feet, tothe sorrow of Beckitt and his wife and the frequenters of thebar-parlour, and Jeckie told her partner, Lucilla Grice, of how cleverlyshe had done them. Lucilla applauded her cleverness; what was the use,she said, of paying money if you could get out of paying it?--especiallyas there was such a lot of spending to be done that she and Jeckie couldnot by any possible means avoid. The mere pointing out of that undoubtedfact made Jeckie sigh deeply.

  "Aye!" she said, almost lugubriously. "That's true enough!--we're juststarting out on what can't be other than the trying and unpleasant partof the business--laying money out in bucketfuls with no prospect ofseeing aught back for some time! However, there's no doubt about seeingit back in cart-loads when it does start coming, and now that I've gotthis advice and information from Mr. Revis--free, gratis, mindyou!--we'd best set to work. Revis, he says that these engineers andcontractors that he's recommended'll do the whole job twenty per cent.cheaper than those London chaps would ha' done, so you see I've saved alot already. And now there's naught for it but to work--and wait."

  "We shall have our hands full," remarked Lucilla sententiously."But--let's start." Savilestowe--its mouth agape and eyes wideopen--witnessed the start of the Farnish-Grice enterprise before manyweeks had gone by. Until then--save for Jeckie's boring operations,which were, comparatively, hole-and-corner affairs--it had never beenroused out of its bucolic life since the Norman Conquest. It had alwaysbeen a typical farming village, a big and important one, to be sure, butstill a purely rural and agricultural settlement. Within the wideboundaries of its parish--one of the largest in England--there were fineold country-houses in their parks and pleasure grounds; roomy andancient farmsteads in their gardens and orchards; corn-lands,meadow-lands, woods, coppices, streams; industry other than that ofspade and plough had never been known there. But now came atransformation, at which the older folk stood aghast. The quiet roadsbecame busy and noisy with the passage of great traction engines drawingtrains of wagons filled with all manner of material in steel and iron,wood, stone, and brick; vast and unfamiliar structures began to arise onthe forty acres wherein Ben Scholes's half-starved cattle had once triedto add to their always limited rations; smoke and steam rose and passedaway in noisome clouds over the cottages which had hitherto knownnothing but the scent of homely herbs and flowers. And with all thesestrange things came strangers--crowds upon crowds of workmen, navvies,masons, mechanics, all wanting accommodation and food and drink. Hideousrows of wooden shanties, hastily run up on the edge of Savilestowe Leys,housed many of these; others, taken in by the labourer's wives, droveaway the primitive quietude of cottage life; it was, as the vicar's wifesaid in her most plaintive manner, an invasion, captained by JeckieFarnish and Lucilla Grice. The old order of things was gone, andSavilestowe lay at the mercy of a horde of ravagers who meant to tearfrom it the wealth which its smiling fields had so long kept safelyhidden.

  And now the Savilestowe folk talked of nothing but the marvellous thingthat was going on in their midst. The old subjects of fireside andinn-kitchen conversation--births, deaths, marriages, scandals, biggooseberries, and two-headed lambs--were forgotten. There was not a man,woman, or child in the village who was not certain that wealth was beingcreated, and that its first outpourings were already in evidence. Moneywas being spent in Savilestowe as it had never been spent within therecollection of the oldest inhabitant, and there was the more glamourabout this spending in that the discerning knew whence this profusioncame.

  "There niver wor such times as these here 'at we're privileged to livein!" said one of the assembly which usually forgathered round theblacksmith's forge and anvil of an afternoon. "Money runs like water i't'midst on us. I un'erstand at wheer t' 'Coach-and-Four' used to tak'six barril o'ale it now needs eighteen, and t'landlord o' t' 'BrownCow,' up at t'top end o' t'village, says 'at he mun build a new tap-roomfor t'workmen to sit in, for his house is filled to t'brim wi' 'em iveryneet. An' they say 'at Farnish's shop hez more nor once been varry nearselled clear out o' all 'at there wor in it, and 'at they've hed to sendto Sicaster for new supplies. An' it's t'same wi' t'butcher--he'skillin' six or eight times as many beasts and sheep as he used to, andt'last Frida' neet he hadn't as much as a mutton chop nor a bit o' liverleft i' t'place. Now, there is some brass about, and no mistak'!"

  "Why, thou sees, it's what's called t'circulation o' money," observedthe blacksmith, leisurely leaning on his hammer. "It goes here and itgoes theer, like t'winds o' heaven. Now, ye were sayin' 'at JecholiahFarnish's shop's varry near been cleaned out more nor once--varry weel,if ye'd nobbut think a bit, that means 'at Jeckie wor gettin' her ownback wi' summat added to it--that's what's meant by t'circulation o'money. We all on us know 'at this here army o' fellers, all at theirvarious jobs, is paid bi Jeckie and her partner, Mrs. Albert Grice, allon 'em. Twice a week they're paid--one half on 'em o' Mondays, andt'other half o' Fridays. Varry weel, they get their brass--now then,they hev to lig it out, and it goes i' various ways--and a good deal onit goes back to Jeckie for bread and bacon and cheese and groceries,d'ye see? She pays out wi' one hand and she tak's in wi' t'other;they've niver had such an amount o' trade at her shop as they hev now.Stan's to reason!--ye can't hev three or four hundred stout fellerscome workin' in a place wi'out 'em liggin' brass out. They mun ate anddrink--same as what t'rest on us does. And so t'money goes back'ard andforrards."

  "Aye, but theer's one i' t'place 'at'll tak' good care 'at some on itsticks in' her palm!" said an individual who leaned against the door andwatched the proceedings out of a squinting eye. "Theer'll be a nice bito' profit for Jeckie Farnish out o' all that extry grocery trade--tak' abit o' notice o' that!"

  "Varry like--but when all's said and done," answered the first speaker,"theer's no denyin' t'fact 'at all this here brass 'at's bein' paid outand spent i' t'village hes what they call its origin wi' her and t'otherwoman. They hef to pay t'contractors, ye know. And a bonny-like sum itmun be an' all, wi' all that machinery, and t'stuff 'at they've browthere i' building material, and t'men's wages--gow, I couldn't ha' thowt'at her and Albert Grice's wife could ha' had so much brass!"

  "Now, how much will they reckon to mak' a year out o' t'job when it'sfully established, like?" asked a man who had shown his keen interest bywatching each preceding speaker with his mouth wide open and his eyesturning and staring from one to another. "Is there a deal to be made outo' this here coal trade? 'Cause mi mother, 'at lives close to MesturRevis' colliery, yonder at Heronshawe Main, as they call it, she niverpays no more nor five shillin' a ton for her coal. I reckon ye'd hev tosell a lot o' tons o' coal at that figure before ye'd get enew o' brassto pay for all 'at's bein' laid out here--what?"

  "Thy mother lives close to t'scenes o' operations, fathead!" retortedthe blacksmith. "She's on t'threshold, as it were--nowt to do but buy itas it comes out o' t'pit. But if thy mother lived i' London town, whatdusta think she'd hev to pay for her coal then? I've read pieces i't'papers about coal bein' as much as three and four pounds a ton i'London--what's ta think o' that?"

  "Why, now, that's summat like a price!" assented the questioner. "Ishouldn't hev no objection misen to sellin' coal at four pound a ton.But they hev to get it to London town first, hevn't they, afore they cansell?"

  Before the blacksmith could give enlightenment on this economic point,the jack-of-all-trades, who, on a previous similar occasion, had warnedBen Scholes of what Jeckie was after in buying his land, put in one ofhis caustic remarks.

  "Aye, and afore Jeckie Farnish gets her coal to London town--which thereisn't no such place, 'cause London's a city--she'll hev to get itsomewheer else!" he said. "Don't ye forget that!"

  "I thowt ye'd ha' summat to say," sneered the blacksmith. "Wheer hes sheto get it, like?--ye'll knaw, of course."

  "I dew knaw," affirmed the wiseacre. "She'll hev to get it to t'surface!It's i
' t'bowels o' t'earth yet, is that coal--it's none on t'top."

  "What's to prevent it bein' browt to t'top, clever 'un?" demanded theblacksmith. "Aren't they at work sinkin' t'shafts as fast as they can?"

  "Aye--and I've knawn wheer they sunk t'shafts deeper nor wheer ye heerdon!" said the clever one. "And then they niver got no coal! Not 'causet'coal worn't there--it wor theer, reight enough wor t'coal. But itniver rase to t'top!"

  "And for why, pray?" asked an eager listener. "What wor theer to preventit?"

  But the hinter at evil things, having shot his shafts, was turning onhis heel, bound for the tap-room at the "Brown Cow."

  "Niver ye mind!" he said darkly. "Theer's been no coal led away fro'Jeckie Farnish's pit mouth yit! An' happen ther niver will be!"

  If he really had some doubts on the matter the Jack-of-all-trades formeda minority of one on the question of Jeckie Farnish's success. Everybodyin the village believed that within a comparatively short time the pitwould be in full working order, and coal would be coming up the windingshaft in huge quantities. And there were not wanting those inSavilestowe who were eager to get some share in the fortune which Jeckieand Lucilla had so far managed to monopolise. The squire, and the vicar,and Stubley, and Merritt as principals, and some of the lesser lights ofthe community as accessories, began putting their heads together insecret and discussing plans and schemes of money-making, all arising outof the fact that work was going ahead rapidly at the Farnish-Grice pit.Now, it was almost impossible for anything to be discussed, or foranything to happen in Savilestowe without the news of it reachingJeckie--and one day she went to Lucilla with a face full of informationand resolve.

  "It's always the case!" she began, with a dark hinting look. "Whenever abig affair like ours is started, there's sure to be them that wants toget a bit of picking out of it by some means or other, fair or foul.I'll not say 'at this isn't fair, but it doesn't suit me!"

  "What is it?" asked Lucilla anxiously. "Nothing wrong?"

  "Not with our concern," replied Jeckie. "That's going all right, as youknow very well--we shall be getting coal in another twelve month. No,it's this--it's come to my ears that the squire and Stubley and somemore of 'em, knowing very well that there'll have to be a bit of housingaccommodation provided, are forming themselves into a society or acompany, or something, with the idea of building what they call a modelvillage that'll be well outside Savilestowe but within easy reach. Now,you and me's not going to have that!"

  "But--the miners'll have to live somewhere!" said Lucilla.

  Jeckie gave her partner a queer look.

  "Do you think I don't know that?" she said. "Why, of course! And I'vemade provision for it, though I thought we'd time enough. Butnow--before ever this lot can get to work--we'll start. We'll have ourmen in our own hands--on our own property."

  "But how?" inquired Lucilla.

  "I never told anybody until now," answered Jeckie, "but I have some landin Savilestowe that I bought years before I got that land of BenScholes's. There's about thirty acres of it--I bought it from JamesTukeby's widow for next to naught, on the condition that she was to havethe rent of it till she died. It was all properly conveyed to me, and,of course, I can do what I like with it. Now then, we'll build three orfour rows of cottages on that--of course, as the land's mine, it'svalue'll have to be reckoned in our partnership account--and we'll let'em to our own miners, d'you see? I'll have none of our men livin' inmodel villages under the squire and the parson--it's all finickingnonsense. We'll have our chaps close to their work! Good, substantial,brick cottages--bricks are cheap enough about here--with a good watersupply; that's all that's wanted. Model villages!--they'll be wantin' tohouse workin' fellers i' palaces next!"

  "It'll cost a lot of money," observed Lucilla. She had never consideredthe housing of the small army of miners which would troop intoSavilestowe at the opening of the new pit. "And you know what we'realready laying out!"

  "We shall get it all back in rents," said Jeckie. She pulled some papersout of the old reticule. "See," she continued, "I've worked it out--costand everything; I got an estimate from Arkstone, the builder, atSicaster, yesterday. There's no need to employ an architect for placeslike they'll be--just five roomed cottages. Come here, and I'll show youwhat it'll cost, and what it'll bring in."

  Lucilla was always an easy prey to Jeckie, and being already deeplyinvolved, was only too ready to assent to all the plans and projectswhich her senior partner proposed. Moreover, Albert, when the two womencondescended to call him into counsel, invariably agreed with hisone-time sweetheart; he had the conviction that whatever Jeckie took inhand must certainly succeed. He himself was so full of the whole schemethat he had long since given up his daily visit to Sicaster. Ever sincethe beginning of active sinking work at the pit, he had driven Lucillaover to Savilestowe every morning after breakfast, and there they hadremained most of the day, watching operations; in time Albert came tobelieve that he himself was really a sort of _ex-officio_ manager of thewhole thing, and in this belief Jeckie humoured him. And so it was easyto gain Lucilla's consent to the cottage-building scheme (whicheventually developed into one that included the construction of housesof the villa type for the more important officials), and once more thetwo partners paid visits to solicitors and bankers.

  The money was rushing away like water out of a broken reservoir. As inmost similar cases, the expenditure, when it came to it, was greaterthan the spenders had reckoned for. More than once Lucilla drew backappalled at the sums which had to be laid out; more than once thebankers upon whom the partners were always drawing heavy cheques, tookJeckie aside and talked seriously to her about the prospects of theventure; Jeckie invariably replied by exhibiting the opinions of theexperts and the professor of geology, and by declaring that if she hadto mortgage her whole future, she was going on. She would point out,too, that the work had gone on successfully and smoothly; there had beennothing to alarm; nothing to stay the steady progress.

  "I'll see it through to success!" she declared. "Cost what it may, I'mgoing to put all I have into it. I've never failed yet--and I won't!"

  The work in her forty acres and in the land where the rows of uglycottages were being built came to fascinate her. She began to neglecther shop, leaving all its vastly increased business to a manager andseveral sorely-taxed assistants, and to spend all her time with theengineers and contractors, until she came to know almost as much abouttheir labours as they themselves knew. She would wander from one of thetwo shafts to the other a dozen times in a day; she kept an eye on thebuilders of the cottages and on the men who were making the road thatwould lead from the pit to the main street of the village; she had agood deal to say about the construction of the short stretch of railwaywhich would connect it with the line that ran behind the woods, whereonshe hoped to send her coal all over the country. In her imagination shesaw it going north and south, east and west, truck upon truck of it--toreturn in good gold.

  But meanwhile the money went. More than once she and Lucilla had toincrease their original capital. A time came when still more money wasneeded, and when Lucilla could do no more. But Jeckie's resources wereby no means exhausted, and one day, after a sleepless night during whichshe thought as she had never thought in her life, she went intoSicaster, determined on doing what she had once vowed she never woulddo. The shop must go.