The Yeoman Adventurer
Page 27
EPILOGUE
THE LITTLE JACK
AT THE HANYARDS STAFFORDSHIRE _August 9th, 1757_
Margaret and I had a hot dispute this morning. True she went away,singing happily, to rebuild the masses of yellow hair that had fallen allover her shoulders and mine, for the dreadful stuff seems to tumble downif I look at it, but still we had disputed, and vigorously, too. The plainfact is she had sniffed at Aristotle.
The trouble arose out of this story of mine which I have been busywriting for the last twenty months. It has been hard work, for I was newto the business, and had to learn how to do it, but it has been a pleasanttask and a labour of love. Now we disputed about it. I said it wasfinished. She said it wasn't. I said I ought to know. She replied notnecessarily, since I was such a great goose. Then I loaded my big gun andthought to blow her clean out of the water.
"My dear Margaret," said I, "Aristotle lays it down that every work ofart has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning of our story wasthe catching of the great jack, the middle of it was the fight at the 'RedBull,' and the end of it was the kiss you gave me. You see, dear, howexactly I have done what Aristotle says I ought to do."
"Bother Aristotle! What does he know about us?" It was here that shesniffed, not figuratively but actually. That is to say she held up hernose, on pretence of looking at me, and audibly ... well, sniffed. There'sno other word for it. Then she cried triumphantly, "What is the use, Noll,of telling our story and not saying a single word about the most importantpeople in it?"
To this question I made no reply. I was beaten. Aristotle, had he been inmy place, would have been beaten too. If we had been in town I would haverun round to Mr. Johnson's and asked him to assist me, but I feel sure hewould have been as helpless as I was. There was no reply, so I contentedmyself with playing with her gorgeous hair till it was all a-tumble to thefloor.
Bother Aristotle! I must do as Margaret bids.
* * * * *
The Colonel and Master Freake were in the house-place when, at last, thatmemorable Christmas Eve, I proudly took my Margaret there.
"Sir," said I to the former, before he had ceased his hearty handshake,"I love Margaret dearly and Margaret loves me. May we be married?"
"You young dog! What d'ye say to that, John?" he said.
"Nothing is nearer to my heart," said the great merchant of London,giving me his hand in turn.
"Nor to mine, so that settles it," cried the Colonel, fishing out hissnuff-box, while I led Margaret up to mother.
We spent a happy Christmas as lovers, and were married on New Year's Dayby the vicar.
Jack and Kate were married in the spring, by which time he was as welland strong as ever. For years I feared lest his severe wound should haveleft some permanent source of weakness, but happily my fears wereill-founded. Jack, having had enough of soldiering, took to business atMaster Freake's suggestion. He has developed all his father's shrewdnesswhile retaining all his own boyish charm. He is now Master Freake's righthand, in the great London house of Freake & Dobson. Kate is Kate still,ardent, busy, level-headed, and loving, and the happy mother of threegirls and a boy. Jack and I are as twins to one another.
In the summer after our wedding, Margaret and I went our journey overagain. We saw Cherry-Cheeks, and made sure that Sim should have not only agood wife but a good business of his own to keep her on. We found outsweet Nance Lousely, and filled her pinner full of guineas after all, andleft her tearful and happy. We knelt together by a simple grave in theCatholic burial-ground at Leek, and on the top of Shap we stood, withtears in our eyes, beside the great stone that marked the resting-place ofDonald and his chief.
I did become a Parliament man, as Master Faneuil had said I should, andam a strong supporter of Mr. Pitt. We spend part of each year in London,where the Marquess is our great friend. He married the nabobess after all,and she loved him well enough to make it her business to reform him. Hevows she is the finest woman in England, with a head on her shoulders asgood as Mr. Freake's. She makes a good marchioness, too, for she alwayshad sense, and has developed dignity.
But most of our time we spend at the Hanyards, which I have made into afine house by careful changes. Master Joe Braggs and Mistress Jane Braggsare our loyal, willing servants and our friends, and are as happy assandboys together. They have now quite a large family.
To-day we are all together again for a long stay at the Hanyards. TheArchdeacon of Lichfield, once our beloved vicar, is with us, simple,fatherly, and learned as of old. I can see his white head when I lift mineup from my writing. He is sunning himself in the garden and talking withmother, who turns her eyes now and again to look at the road, for Kate andJack are coming in from Stafford with their children.
All these are familiar names, but it is fit that the record should begiven before I go back to Margaret's sniff at Aristotle. For while I wasbusying myself with her hair, who should come in sight, walking throughthe orchard from the river, but the Colonel and Master Freake. Theystopped to join mother and the Archdeacon in their talk, and we, lookingat them, were proud and happy in the knowledge of their love for us.
Then there was a great clatter and chattering and excited shoutingwithout. Margaret had left the door of my study open, and in raced themost important people in our story. They had a tale too big for coherenttalk, and they gabbled away, one after the other or both together, to tellus all about it.
It was Oliver who had done it. He held up with a pride that made himsplutter a little jack about fourteen inches long, which he had justcaught. They say he is his father over again. At any rate, he will fishmorning, noon, and night, if he can coax one of us elders to go with himto take care of him.
There he stood, the fish dangling at arm's length, telling his motherexactly how he had done it. I do not pretend to be impartial, but a finerboy than mine is not to be found. He drops the fish to the floor to rushinto his mother's arms to be kissed and praised.
I am busy, too; busy as I love best of all to be. For on my knee, herarms round my neck and her great mane of glorious wheat-coloured hairtickling my face, is the dearest little creature on God's earth, my otherMargaret. If you want to see me when I am intensely proud and happy, youmust see me with her at my side walking in the Park or down the Green Gateat Stafford, with all eyes turning on her because of her surpassingchildish beauty.
"I helped him catch it, daddy," she says, lifting up her face to be kissed.
So does history repeat itself, and it is settled at once that Noll's jackis to be put by Master Whatcot in the same case as dad's, for all theworld to know that he is as good a fisherman as his father before him. Joeis to send it to Stafford at once, and the two rush off eagerly to give itto him, leaving us alone.
To the glowing beauty of her maidenhood Margaret has added the serenebeauty of motherhood. That is all the change I can see in her, as I put myarms round her and draw her to me.
When she could speak she said happily, "Well done fisherman!"