CHAPTER XLV
CONVICTION
Sir Montague Hockin, to my great delight, was still away from Bruntsea.If he had been there, it would have been a most awkward thing for me tomeet him, or to refuse to do so. The latter course would probably havebeen the one forced upon me by self-respect and affection toward mycousin; and yet if so, I could scarcely have avoided an explanation withmy host. From the nature of the subject, and several other reasons, thiswould have been most unpleasant; and even now I was haunted with doubts,as I had been from the first, whether I ought not to have told Mrs.Hockin long ago what had been said of him. At first sight that seemedthe honest thing to do; but three things made against it. It might seemforward and meddlesome; it must be a grievous thing to my cousin to havehis sad story discussed again; and lastly, I had promised Mrs. Pricethat her words should go no further. So that on the whole perhaps Iacted aright in keeping that infamous tale to myself as long as ever itwas possible.
But now ere ever I spoke of him--which I was always loath to do--Mrs.Hockin told me that he very seldom came to see them now, and when he didcome he seemed to be uneasy and rather strange in his manners. I thoughtto myself that the cause of this was clear. Sir Montague, knowing that Iwent to Castlewood, was pricked in his conscience, and afraid of havinghis vile behavior to my cousin disclosed. However, that idea of minewas wrong, and a faulty conception of simple youth. The wicked forgivethemselves so quickly, if even they find any need of it, that every bodyelse is supposed to do the same. With this I have no patience. Awrong unrepented of and unatoned gathers interest, instead of gettingdiscount, from lost time. And so I hated that man tenfold.
Good Mrs. Hockin lamented his absence not only for the sake of herdarling fowls, but also because she considered him a check upon theMajor's enterprise. Great as her faith was in her husband's ability andkeenness, she was often visited with dark misgivings about such heavyoutlay. Of economy (as she often said) she certainly ought to knowsomething, having had to practice it as strictly as any body in thekingdom, from an age she could hardly remember. But as for what was nowbrought forward as a great discovery--economy in politics--Mrs. Hockinhad tried to follow great opinions, but could only find, so far,downright extravagance. Supply (as she had observed fifty times with herown butcher and fishmonger), instead of creating demand, produced alot of people hankering round the corner, till the price came down tonothing. And if it were so with their institutions--as her dear husbandcalled his new public-house--who was to find all the interest due tothe building and land societies? Truly she felt that Sir Rufus Hockin,instead of doing any good to them, had behaved very badly in leavingthem land, and not even a shilling to work it with.
It relieved her much to tell me this, once for all and in strictconfidence; because her fine old-fashioned (and we now may say quiteobsolete) idea of duty toward her husband forbade her ever to say tohim, or about him, when it could be helped, any thing he might not like,any thing which to an evil mind might convey a desire on her part tomeddle with--with--
"Political economy," I said; and she laughed, and said, Yes, that wasjust it. The Major of course knew best, and she ought with all herheart to trust him not to burden their old days with debt, after all thechildren they had brought up and fairly educated upon the professionalincome of a distinguished British officer, who is not intended by hissuperiors to provide successors.
"Perhaps it is like the boiled eggs they send me," the old lady said,with her soft sweet smile, "for my poor hens to sit upon. Their race istoo good to be made common. So now they get tinkers' and tailors' boys,after much competition, and the crammed sons of cooks. And in peace-timethey do just as well."
Of such things I knew nothing; but she seemed to speak with bitterness,the last thing to be found in all her nature, yet discoverable--as allbad things (except its own) are--by the British government. I do notspeak from my own case, in which they discovered nothing.
By the time these things had been discussed, my host (who was alwaysparticular about his dress) came down to dinner, and not until that wasover could I speak of the subject which had brought me there. No soonerhad I begun my tale than they both perceived that it must neither beflurried nor interrupted, least of all should it be overheard.
"Come into my lock-up," cried the Major; "or, better still, let us goout of doors. We can sit in my snuggery on the cliff, with only gullsand jackdaws to listen, and mount my telescope and hoist my flag, andthe men know better than to skulk their work. I can see every son of agun of them as clearly as if I had them on parade. You wish Mrs. Hockinto come, I suppose. Very well, let us be off at once. I shall count myfellows coming back from dinner."
With a short quick step the Major led the way to a beautifully situatedoutpost at a corner of the cliff, where land and sea for many a fairleague rolled below. A niche of the chalk had been cleverly enlarged andscooped into a shell-shaped bower, not, indeed, gloriously overhung, asin the far West might have been, but broken of its white defiant glareby climbing and wandering verdure. Seats and slabs of oak were fixed tocheck excess of chalkiness, and a parapet of a pattern which the Majorcalled Egyptian saved fear of falling down the cliff, and served tospread a paper on, or to rest a telescope.
"From this point," said the Major, crossing wiry yet substantial legs,"the whole of my little domain may be comprised as in a bird's-eye view.It is nothing, of course, much less than nothing, compared with the Earlof Crowcombe's, or the estate of Viscount Gamberley; still, such as itis, it carries my ideas, and it has an extent of marine frontage suchas they might envy. We are asked 5 pounds per foot for a thread of landfronting on a highway, open to every kind of annoyance, overlooked,without any thing to look at. How much, then, per fathom (or measure, ifyou please, by cable-lengths) is land worth fronting the noble, silent,uncontaminating, healthful sea? Whence can come no coster-mongers'cries, no agitating skir of bagpipes or the maddening hurdy-gurdy, noGerman band expecting half a crown for the creation of insanity; onlysweet murmur of the wavelets, and the melodious whistle of a boatmancatching your breakfast lobster. Where, again, if you love thepicturesque--"
"My dear," said Mrs. Hockin, gently, "you always were eloquent from thefirst day I saw you; and if you reconstitute our borough, as you hope,and enter Parliament for Bruntsea, what a sensation you will create!But I wished to draw your attention to the fact that Erema is waiting totell her tale."
"To be sure. I will not stop her. Eloquence is waste of time, and Inever yet had half a second to spare. Fear no eloquence from me; factsand logic are my strong points. And now, Erema, show what yours are."
At first this made me a little timid, for I had never thought that anystrong points would be needed for telling a simple tale. To my mind thedifficulty was, not to tell the story, but to know what to make of itwhen told; and soon I forgot all about myself in telling what I hadseen, heard, and found.
The Major could not keep himself from stamping great holes throughhis--something I forget the name of, but people sow it to make turfof chalk--and dear "Aunt Mary's" soft pink cheeks, which her lastgrandchild might envy, deepened to a tone of rose; while her eyes, sofull of heavenly faith when she got upon lofty subjects, took a mosthuman flash and sparkle of hatred not theological.
"Seven!" she cried; "oh, Nicholas, Nicholas, you never told me therewere seven!"
"There were not seven graves without the mother," the Major answered,sternly. "And what odds whether seven or seventy? The criminality is thepoint, not the accumulation of results. Still, I never heard of so big ablackguard. And what did he do next, my dear?"
The way in which they took my story was a great surprise to me, because,although they were so good, they had never paid any attention to ituntil it became exciting. They listened with mere politeness until thescent of a very wicked man began to taint my narrative; but from thatmoment they drew nearer, and tightened their lips, and held theirbreath, and let no word escape them. It made me almost think thatpeople even of pure excellence, weaned as they are from wicked th
ings byteaching and long practice, must still retain a hankering for them doneat other people's cost.
"And now," cried the Major, "let us see it"--even before I had time topull it out, though ready to be quick, from a knowledge of his ways."Show it, and you shall have my opinion. And Mary's is certain to agreewith mine. My dear, that makes yours so priceless."
"Then, Nicholas, if I retain my own, yours is of no value. Never mindthat. Now don't catch words, or neither opinion will be worth a thought.My dear, let us see it and then judge."
"My own idea, but not so well expressed," Major Hockin answered, as hedanced about, while I with stupid haste was tugging at my package of thehateful locket. For I had not allowed that deceitful thing any quartersin my pocket, where dear little relics of my father lay, but hadfastened it under my dress in a manner intended in no way for gentlemento think about. Such little things annoy one's comfort, and destroyone's power of being quite high-minded. However, I got it out at last,and a flash of the sun made the difference.
"Brilliants, Mary!" the Major cried; "brilliants of first water; suchas we saw, you know where; and any officer in the British army exceptmyself, I do believe, would have had them at once in his camletpouch--my dear, you know all about it. Bless my heart, how slow you are!Is it possible you have forgotten it? There came out a fellow, and I cuthim down, as my duty was, without ceremony. You know how I used to doit, out of regulation, with a slash like this--"
"Oh, Nicholas, you will be over the cliff! You have shown me how youused to do it, a thousand times--but you had no cricks in your backthen: and remember how brittle the chalk is."
"The chalk may be brittle, but I am tough. I insist upon doing everything as well as I did it forty years ago. Mary, you ought not to speakto me like that. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty brilliants, worth twentypounds apiece upon an average, I do believe. Four hundred pounds. Thatwould finish our hotel."
"Nicholas!"
"My dear, I was only in fun. Erema understands me. But who is thisbeautiful lady?"
"The very point," I exclaimed, while he held it so that the pensivebeauty of the face gleamed in soft relief among bright blue enamel andsparkling gems. "The very thing that I must know--that I would give mylife to know--that I have fifty thousand fancies--"
"Now don't be excited, Erema, if you please. What will you give me totell you who it is?"
"All those diamonds, which I hate the sight of, and three-quarters of myhalf nugget; and if that is not enough--"
"It is a thousand times too much; I will tell you for just one smile,and I know it, will be a smile of unbelief."
"No, no; I will believe it, whoever you say," with excitement superiorto grammar, I cried; "only tell me at once--don't be so long."
"But then you won't believe me when I do tell you," the Major replied,in the most provoking way. "I shall tell you the last person you wouldever think of, and then you will only laugh at me."
"I won't laugh; how can I laugh in such a matter? I will believe you ifyou say it is--Aunt Mary."
"My dear, you had better say at once that it is I, and have no moremystery about it." Mrs. Hockin was almost as impatient as myself.
"Mrs. Hockin, you must indeed entertain an exalted idea of your owncharms. I knew that you were vain, but certainly did not--Well, then,if you will allow me no peace, this is the lady that lives down in theruin, and stands like a pillar by my pillar-box."
"I never thought you would joke like that," I cried, with vexation andanger. "Oh, is it a subject to be joked about?"
"I never was graver in my life; and you promised implicitly to believeme. At any rate, believe that I speak in earnest."
"That I must believe, when you tell me so. But what makes you think sucha wonderful thing? I should have thought nothing more impossible. I hadmade up my mind that it was Flittamore who lived down here; but this cannot be she. Flittamore was unheard of at the time of my grandfather'sdeath. Moreover, her character was not like this; she was giddy andlight and heartless. This lady had a heart--good or bad, a deep one.Most certainly it is not Flittamore."
"Flittamore! I do not remember that name. You should either tell us allor tell us nothing." The Major's tone was reproachful, and his eyes fromtheir angular roofs looked fierce.
"I have not told you," I said, "because it can have nothing to do withit. The subject is a painful one, and belongs to my family only."
"Enough. I am not inquisitive--on the other hand, too forgetful. I havean appointment at 3.25. It takes me seven minutes and a quarter to getthere. I must be two minutes and three-quarters late. Mrs. Hockin, mountthe big telescope and point it at the ramparts; keep the flag up also.Those fellows will be certain that I am up here, while I enfiladethem from the western end with this fine binocular. Surprises maintaindiscipline. Good-by, my dear, and, Miss Castlewood, good-by. Tea at6.30, and not too much water."
Erema; Or, My Father's Sin Page 45
