CHAPTER III
_Which concerns itself with a hay-cart, and a belligerent Waggoner_
It was upon a certain August morning that George Bellew shook the dustof London from his feet, and, leaving Chance, or Destiny to direct him,followed a hap-hazard course, careless alike of how, or when, or where;sighing as often, and as heavily as he considered his heart-brokencondition required,--which was very often, and very heavily,--yetheeding, for all that, the glory of the sun, and the stir and bustle ofthe streets about him.
Thus it was that, being careless of his ultimate destination, Fortunecondescended to take him under her wing, (if she has one), and guidedhis steps across the river, into the lovely land of Kent,--that countyof gentle hills, and broad, pleasant valleys, of winding streams andshady woods, of rich meadows and smiling pastures, of grassy lanes andfragrant hedgerows,--that most delightful land which has been called,and very rightly, "The Garden of England."
It was thus, as has been said, upon a fair August morning, that Bellewset out on what he termed "a walking tour." The reservation is necessarybecause Bellew's idea of a walking-tour is original, and quaint. Hebegan very well, for Bellew,--in the morning he walked very nearly fivemiles, and, in the afternoon, before he was discovered, he accomplishedten more on a hay-cart that happened to be going in his direction.
He had swung himself up among the hay, unobserved by the somnolentdriver, and had ridden thus an hour or more in that delicious statebetween waking, and sleeping, ere the waggoner discovered him, whereuponensued the following colloquy:
THE WAGGONER. (_Indignantly_) Hallo there! what might you be a doing ofin my hay?
BELLEW. (_Drowsily_) Enjoying myself immensely.
THE WAGGONER. (_Growling_) Well, you get out o' that, and sharp aboutit.
BELLEW. (_Yawning_) Not on your life! No sir,--'not for Cadwallader andall his goats!'
THE WAGGONER. You jest get down out o' my hay,--now come!
BELLEW. (_Sleepily_) Enough, good fellow,--go to!--thy voice offendsmine ear!
THE WAGGONER. (_Threateningly_) Ear be blowed! If ye don't get down outo' my hay,--I'll come an' throw ye out.
BELLEW. (_Drowsily_) 'Twould be an act of wanton aggression that likesme not.
THE WAGGONER. (_Dubiously_) Where be ye goin'?
BELLEW. Wherever you like to take me; Thy way shall be my way,and--er--thy people--(Yawn) So drive on, my rustic Jehu, and Heaven'sblessings prosper thee!
Saying which, Bellew closed his eyes again, sighed plaintively, and oncemore composed himself to slumber.
But to drive on, the Waggoner, very evidently, had no mind; instead,flinging the reins upon the backs of his horses, he climbed down fromhis seat, and spitting on his hands, clenched them into fists and shookthem up at the yawning Bellew, one after the other.
"It be enough," said he, "to raise the 'Old Adam' inside o' me to 'ave atramper o' the roads a-snoring in my hay,--but I ain't a-going to becalled names, into the bargain. 'Rusty'--I may be, but I reckon I'm goodenough for the likes o' you,--so come on down!" and the Waggoner shookhis fists again.
He was a very square man, was this Waggoner, square of head, square ofjaw, and square of body, with twinkling blue eyes, and a pleasant,good-natured face; but, just now, the eyes gleamed, and the face was setgrimly, and, altogether, he looked a very ugly opponent.
Therefore Bellew sighed again, stretched himself, and, very reluctantly,climbed down out of the hay. No sooner was he fairly in the road, thanthe Waggoner went for him with a rush, and a whirl of knotted fists. Itwas very dusty in that particular spot so that it presently rose in acloud, in the midst of which, the battle raged, fast and furious.
And, in a while, the Waggoner, rising out of the ditch, grinned to seeBellew wiping blood from his face.
"You be no--fool!" panted the Waggoner, mopping his face with the end ofhis neckerchief. "Leastways--not wi' your fists."
"Why, you are pretty good yourself, if it comes to that," returnedBellew, mopping in his turn. Thus they stood a while stanching theirwounds, and gazing upon each other with a mutual, and growing respect.
"Well?" enquired Bellew, when he had recovered his breath somewhat,"shall we begin again, or do you think we have had enough? To be sure, Ibegin to feel much better for your efforts, you see, exercise is what Imost need, just now, on account of the--er--Haunting Spectre of theMight Have Been,--to offset its effect, you know; but it isuncomfortably warm work here, in the sun, isn't it?"
"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "it be."
"Then suppose we--er--continue our journey?" said Bellew with his dreamygaze upon the tempting load of sweet-smelling hay.
"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner again, beginning to roll down his sleeves,"suppose we do; I aren't above giving a lift to a chap as can use 'isfists,--not even if 'e is a vagrant, and a uncommon dusty one atthat;--so, if you're in the same mind about it, up you get,--but no morefurrin curses, mind!" With which admonition, the Waggoner nodded,grinned, and climbed back to his seat, while Bellew swung himself upinto the hay once more.
"Friend," said he, as the waggon creaked upon its way, "Do you smoke?"
"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner.
"Then here are three cigars which you didn't manage to smash just now."
"Cigars! why it ain't often as I gets so far as a cigar, unless it beSquire, or Parson,--cigars, eh!" Saying which, the Waggoner turned andaccepted the cigars which he proceeded to stow away in the cavernousinterior of his wide-eaved hat, handling them with elaborate care,rather as if they were explosives of a highly dangerous kind.
Meanwhile, George Bellew, American Citizen, and millionaire, lay uponthe broad of his back, staring up at the cloudless blue above, anddespite heart break, and a certain Haunting Shadow, felt singularlycontent, which feeling he was at some pains with himself to account for.
"It's the exercise," said he, speaking his thought aloud, as hestretched luxuriously upon his soft, and fragrant couch, "after all,there is nothing like a little exercise."
"That's what they all say!" nodded the Waggoner. "But I notice as themas says it, ain't over fond o' doing of it,--they mostly prefers to lieon their backs, an' talk about it,--like yourself."
"Hum!" said Bellew, "ha! 'Some are born to exercise, some achieveexercise, and some, like myself, have exercise thrust upon them.' But,anyway, it is a very excellent thing,--more especially if one isaffected with a--er--broken heart."
"A w'ot?" enquired the Waggoner.
"Blighted affections, then," sighed Bellew, settling himself morecomfortably in the hay.
"You aren't 'inting at--love, are ye?" enquired the Waggoner cocking asomewhat sheepish eye at him.
"I was, but, just at present," and here Bellew lowered his voice, "it isa--er--rather painful subject with me,--let us, therefore, talk ofsomething else."
"You don't mean to say as your 'eart's broke, do ye?" enquired theWaggoner in a tone of such vast surprise and disbelief, that Bellewturned, and propped himself on an indignant elbow.
"And why the deuce not?" he retorted, "my heart is no more imperviousthan anyone else's,--confound it!"
"But," said the Waggoner, "you ain't got the look of a 'eart-broke cove,no more than Squire Cassilis,--which the same I heard telling MissAnthea as 'is 'eart were broke, no later than yesterday, at two o'clockin the arternoon, as ever was."
"Anthea!" repeated Bellew, blinking drowsily up at the sky again, "thatis a very quaint name, and very pretty."
"Pretty,--ah,--an' so's Miss Anthea!--as a pict'er."
"Oh, really?" yawned Bellew.
"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "there ain't a man, in or out o' the parish,from Squire down, as don't think the very same."
But here, the Waggoner's voice tailed off into a meaningless drone thatbecame merged with the creaking of the wheels, the plodding hoof-strokesof the horses, and Bellew fell asleep.
He was awakened by feeling himself shaken lustily, and, sitting up, sawthat they had come to where a narrow lane branched off from the highroad, and wo
und away between great trees.
"Yon's your way," nodded the Waggoner, pointing along the high road,"Dapplemere village lies over yonder, 'bout a mile."
"Thank you very much," said Bellew, "but I don't want the village."
"No?" enquired the Waggoner, scratching his head.
"Certainly not," answered Bellew.
"Then--what do ye want?"
"Oh well, I'll just go on lying here, and see what turns up,--so driveon, like the good fellow you are."
"Can't be done!" said the Waggoner.
"Why not?"
"Why, since you ax me--because I don't have to drive no farther. Therebe the farm-house,--over the up-land yonder, you can't see it because o'the trees, but there it be."
So, Bellew sighed resignedly, and, perforce, climbed down into the road.
"What do I owe you?" he enquired.
"Owe me!" said the Waggoner, staring.
"For the ride, and the--er--very necessary exercise you afforded me."
"Lord!" cried the Waggoner with a sudden, great laugh, "you don't owe menothin' for that,--not nohow,--I owe you one for a knocking of me intothat ditch, back yonder, though, to be sure, I did give ye one or twogood 'uns, didn't I?"
"You certainly did!" answered Bellew smiling, and he held out his hand.
"Hey!--what be this?" cried the Waggoner, staring down at the brightfive-shilling piece in his palm.
"Well, I rather think it's five shillings," said Bellew. "It's bigenough, heaven knows. English money is all O.K., I suppose, but it'sconfoundedly confusing, and rather heavy to drag around if you happen tohave enough of it--"
"Ah!" nodded the Waggoner, "but then nobody never _has_ enough ofit,--leastways, I never knowed nobody as had. Good-bye, sir! andthankee, and--good luck!" saying which, the Waggoner chirrupped to hishorses, slipped the coin into his pocket, nodded, and the waggon creakedand rumbled up the lane.
Bellew strolled along the road, breathing an air fragrant withhoney-suckle from the hedges, and full of the song of birds; pausing,now and then, to listen to the blythe carol of a sky-lark, or the rich;sweet notes of a black-bird, and feeling that it was indeed, good to bealive; so that, what with all this,--the springy turf beneath his feet,and the blue expanse over-head, he began to whistle for very joy of it,until, remembering the Haunting Shadow of the Might Have Been, hechecked himself, and sighed instead. Presently, turning from the road,he climbed a stile, and followed a narrow path that led away across themeadows, and, as he went, there met him a gentle wind laden with thesweet, warm scent of ripening hops, and fruit.
On he went, and on,--heedless of his direction until the sun grew low,and he grew hungry; wherefore, looking about, he presently espied a nooksheltered from the sun's level rays by a steep bank where flowersbloomed, and ferns grew. Here he sat down, unslinging his knap-sack, andhere it was, also, that he first encountered Small Porges.
The Money Moon: A Romance Page 3