The Solitary Farm

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER IV

  SUDDEN DEATH

  "Y' shell not kiss m' gel, or merry her, or hev anything t' do with m'gel," said Captain Huxham, in a thick voice. "Oh, I saw y' fro' th'quarter-deck with m' gel. Jus' y' git, or----"

  He made a threatening step forward, while Cyril waited him withoutflinching. What would have happened it is hard to say, for CaptainHuxham was in a frenzy of rage. But Bella, recovering from her firstsurprise, threw herself between the two men.

  "Father," she cried passionately, "I love him."

  "Oh, y' do, do y'?" growled the fireside tyrant, turning fiercely onher, "an' arter I told y' es y'd hev t' leave the swab alone. Did I, ordid I not?"

  "Yes, but you assigned no reason for asking me to avoid Cyril, so----"

  "Cyril! Cyril!" The captain clenched his huge hand, and his little eyesflashed with desperate anger. "Y' call him Cyril, y'--y'--slut." Heraised a mighty fist to strike her, and the blow would have fallen, butthat Lister suddenly gripped Huxham's shoulder and twitched himunexpectedly aside.

  "If you blame anyone, sir, you must blame me."

  "I'll break yer neck, cuss y'," raged the older man.

  Cyril shrugged his shoulders, indifferently. "You can try, if you like,but I don't propose to let you do it. Come, Captain Huxham, let us bothbe reasonable and talk matters over."

  "Y're on m' land; git off m' land," shouted Huxham, swinging his fistslike windmills.

  "Go, Cyril, go," implored Bella who was terrified lest there should be ahand-to-hand struggle between the two men. That was not to be thoughtof, as if Lister killed the captain, or the captain killed Lister, therewould be no chance of her becoming the wife of the man she loved.

  "I am quite ready to go," said Cyril, keeping a watchful eye on Huxham;"but first I should like to hear why you, sir, object to my marryingBella." He spoke quietly and firmly, so that the level tones of hisvoice, and the admirable way in which he kept his temper, had a coolingeffect on the enraged sailor.

  Huxham, born bully as he was, found that it was difficult for him tostorm at a man so cool, and calm, and self-controlled. "Y' ain't m'chice," said he in lower but very sulky tones; "m' gel's goin' t' merryth' sky-pilot, Silas Pence."

  "Oh, no, she's not," said Lister smoothly; "she will marry me."

  "If she does, she don't get no money o' mine."

  "That will be no hindrance," said Bella, who was rapidly regaining hercolour. "I am willing to marry Cyril without a penny."

  "Y' shent, then," grumbled her father savagely.

  "I have yet to hear your objections, sir."

  "Yer name's Lister, and----"

  The objection was so petty, that Bella quite expected to see Cyrillaugh. But in place of doing so, he turned white and retreated a step."What--what do you know of my name?" he asked, with apparentnervousness.

  "Thet's my business," snapped Huxham, seeing his advantage, "an' Ishen't tell y' m' business. Y' git off m' land, or----" he suddenlylunged forward in the attempt to throw Lister when off his guard.

  But the young man was watchful, and, unexpectedly swerving, dexterouslytripped up his bulky antagonist. Huxham, with a shout, or rather abellow of rage like a wounded bull, sprawled full length amongst thecorn. Bella pushed her lover away before the captain could regain hisfeet. "Go, go, I can see you to-morrow," she said hastily.

  "Y' shell never see the swab again," roared Huxham, rising slowly, forthe fall had shaken him, and he was no longer young. "I'll shut y' inyer room, an' feed y' on bread an' water."

  "If you dare to say that again, I'll break your head," cried Lister,suddenly losing his temper at the insult to the girl he loved.

  "Oh, will y'?" Huxham passed his tongue over his coarse lips and rubbedhis big hands slowly. Apparently nothing would have given him greaterpleasure than to pitch this man who dared him into the boundary channel;but he had learned a lesson from his late fall. Lister was active andyoung; the captain was elderly and slow. Therefore, in spite of hissuperior strength--and Huxham judged that he had that--it was risky totry conclusions of sheer brute force. The captain therefore, being acoward at heart, as all bullies are, weakened and retreated. "Y' git offm' land," was all that he could find to say, "an' y' git home, Bella. Esm' daughter I'll deal with y'."

  "I am quite ready to go home," said Bella boldly; "but you are not goingto behave as though I were one of your sailors, father."

  "I'll do wot I please," growled Huxham, looking white and wicked.

  Bella laughed somewhat artificially, for her father did not lookamiable. "I don't think you will," she said, with feigned carelessness."Cyril, go now, and I'll see you again to-morrow."

  "Ef y' come here again," shouted Huxham, boiling over once more, "I'llkill y'--thet I will."

  "Take care you aren't killed yourself first," retorted Lister, and wassurprised at the effect the threat--an idle one--had on the ex-sailor.

  Huxham turned pale under his bronze, and hastily cast a look over hisleft shoulder.

  "Why do you hate me so?" asked the young man sharply. "I never met youbefore; you have never set eyes on me. Why do you hate me?"

  "Ef I'd a dog called Lister, I'd shoot it; if I'd a cat called Lister,I'd drown it; and if I'd a parrot named Lister, I'd twist its blamedneck, same es I would yours, ef I could. Bella, come home;" and castinga venomous look on the astonished Cyril, the captain moved away.

  It was useless to prolong the unpleasant scene, since Huxham declined toexplain his objection to the young man's name. And again, as she took afew steps to accompany her father, Bella noticed that Cyril winced andpaled at the coarse taunts of his antagonist. "What is the matter withyour name?" she asked sharply.

  Lister strode forward and caught her in his arms. "I shall explain whennext we meet," he whispered, and kissed her good-bye, while Huxhamgrated his strong white teeth at the sight. Indeed, so angry was thecaptain, that he might again have assaulted his daughter's lover, butCyril walked rapidly away, and without even a backward glance. Bellawatched him with a heavy heart: there seemed to be something sinisterabout this mystery of the name. Huxham's inexplicable hatred appeared tobe foolish; but Lister undoubtedly took it seriously.

  "Kim home," breathed the captain furiously in her ear; "you an' me hest' hev a talk."

  "It will be a last talk if you do not behave properly," retorted Bella,walking proudly by his side, "even though I have the misfortune to beyour daughter, that does not give you the right to treat me so rudely."

  "I'll treat y' es I blamed well like, y' hussy. Y'll go t' yer room, an'eat bread an' drink water t' cool yer hot blood."

  Bella laughed derisively. "There is law in this country, father," shesaid quietly. "I shall go to my room certainly, as I have no wish toremain with you. But there need be no talk of bread and water."

  "Tea an' dry toast, then," grunted Huxham, looking at her savagely withhis hard blue eyes. "Y' shell be punished, y' slut."

  "Because I have fallen in love? Nonsense."

  "Because y've disobeyed me in seein' this blamed Lister."

  "Father"--Bella stopped directly before the front door of themanor-house--"why do you hate Cyril? What have you against his name?"

  The captain quivered, blinked his eyes, cast his usual look over theleft shoulder, and then scowled. "Shut yer mouth," he growled, "an' got' yer room, cuss y'. This house is mine. I am master here." He rolledinto the doorway and suddenly turned on the threshold. "I'd ruther seey' dead an' buried than merried t' a man of t' name of Lister," hesnarled; and before Bella could recover from her astonishment, heplunged into his den and shut the door with a noisy bang.

  The girl passed her hand across her forehead in a bewildered way. Themystery was becoming deeper, and she saw no way of solving it. Huxhamwould not explain, and Cyril evaded the subject. Then Bella rememberedthat her lover had promised an explanation when next they met. Aremembrance of this aided her to possess herself in patience, and shetried to put the matter out of her head. But it was impossible for herto meet her father at s
upper and forbear asking questions, so shedecided to obey him ostensibly, and retire to her bedroom. The next dayshe could have an interview with her lover, and then would learn why thecaptain stormed and Cyril winced when the name was mentioned.

  Bella's room was on the first floor, and in the front of the mansion, sothat she had an extended view of the corn-fields, of Mrs. Tunks' hutnear the boundary channel, and of the pathway through the wheat leadingdeviously from the front door of Bleacres, across the channel, and tothe distant village of Marshely. Standing at the window, she could seethe red-roofed houses gathered round the square tower of the church, andthe uncultivated fields, green and moist, spreading on all sides. Thesun was setting, and the landscape was bathed in rosy hues. Everythingwas peaceful and restful outside, but under the manor roof was discordand dread. Huxham in his den paced up and down like a caged bear,angered exceedingly by his daughter's obstinacy, as he termed it. AndBella, in the seclusion of her own room, was trying to quieten herfears. Hitherto, she had lived what she termed a vegetable life; but inthese ominous hints it seemed as though she would very shortly have morethan enough to occupy her mind.

  As the twilight darkened, Bella still continued to sit at the windowvainly endeavouring to forecast a doubtful future. It was certain thatHuxham would never agree to her marriage with Lister, and would probablyinsist that she should become the wife of Pence. As Bella had no money,and no expectations of any, save by obeying her father, she did not knowwhat to do unless the captain ceased to persecute her. He would possiblyturn her out of doors if she persisted in thwarting his will. In thatevent she would either have to earn her bread as a governess, or wouldbe forced to ask Lister to marry her--a direct question which hermaidenly pride shrank from putting. Moreover--as she recollected--Cyrilhad plainly told her, only a few hours previously, that he could notmarry her unless he obtained one thousand pounds within the week. It wasnow Tuesday, and it was not easy to raise such a large sum within thenext few days. Of course, Bella did not know what resources Cyril had todraw upon, and it might be that he would gain what he wanted. Then hecould take her away and marry her: but until the unexpected happened,she did not know what to say or how to act. It seemed to her that shehad come to the cross-roads of life, and that all her future dependedupon the path she now chose. Yet there was nothing to show her how toselect the direction.

  Her idle eyes caught at the vivid spot of scarlet which came from thered coat of the martial scarecrow. There it stood, bound stiffly to atall pole in the midst of the corn--the sentinel of those prosperousacres. Bella wondered that her father, having been a sailor, had notarrayed the figure in nautical dress. As it was, the red hue annoyedher, for red was the colour of blood, and there lingered in her mind theominous speeches which had been made by her father and Lister, whenquarrelling. "I'll kill y'!" said the captain; and "Take care," Cyrilhad replied, "that you aren't killed yourself first!" Also there was thewild tale of Pence regarding the offer made by Huxham to compass thedeath of Lister. These things flashed into Bella's uncomfortable mind,as she looked at the red and ominous figure of the scarecrow. Then, witha shudder, she rose and dismissed these evil fancies.

  "I am growing morbid," she thought, looking at her anxious face in theglass. "To-morrow, when I see Cyril--oh, come in!" said she aloud.

  She broke off to give the invitation, as a sharp knock came to the door,and it opened almost immediately to admit the plump figure of Mrs.Coppersley, carrying a tray. "Here's some dry toast and a cup of tea,"said the widow severely; "your father says you are not to come tosupper."

  "I shouldn't come if he wanted me to," retorted Bella, as Mrs.Coppersley set down her burden; "and if he thinks to punish me in thisway, he is very much mistaken. Does he think that I am a child, tosubmit to his tyranny?"

  "He thinks that you are a disobedient daughter," said Mrs. Coppersley,drily.

  "And what do you think, aunt?"

  The older woman coughed. She thought that her niece was much too pretty,and much too independent, but had no ill-feeling toward her, save anatural petty feminine jealousy. "I don't know what to think," she said,sitting down to gossip. "Of course, your father is impossible, andalways wants his own way. I don't see why folks should not be allowed tochoose husbands for themselves. Jabez"--this was Huxham's Christianname--"objects to my marrying Henry, and to your becoming the wife ofthis Lister person."

  "Don't speak of Cyril in that way," said Bella, with some impatience;"he is a gentleman, and the man I love. By the way, aunt, you might havebrought up the teapot. I dislike anyone else to pour out my tea."

  "Your father poured it out himself while I went to the kitchen for thetoast," snapped Mrs. Coppersley; "he said you were to have only this onecup."

  "What a petty tyrant he is," sighed Bella, pushing the cup away. "Aunt,what do you think of Cyril?"

  "He is very handsome," rejoined Mrs. Coppersley cautiously, "but I don'tknow anything about his position or disposition."

  "I know he is the dearest fellow in the world, aunt; but, like yourself,his position is unknown to me."

  Mrs. Coppersley rose aghast. "Do you mean to say that you would marry aman about whom you know nothing?" she demanded.

  "I know sufficient to choose him for my husband," retorted Bella,spiritedly; "and I intend to marry him, in spite of my father'sbullying."

  "Then your father will not give you a single penny," cried Mrs.Coppersley. "I approve of his doing so. You can't marry this man."

  "Oh!" said Bella, bitterly. "I thought you agreed that a woman shouldchoose her own husband."

  "A woman like myself, who knows life, Bella--not a chit of a girl likeyou."

  "I am twenty years of age," flashed out her niece.

  "And have the sense of a babe of three," scoffed Mrs. Coppersley, movingtowards the door. "Perhaps a night of loneliness will bring you to yoursenses, my dear." She passed through the door and closed it. "I amlocking you in, by your father's wish," said Mrs. Coppersley from theother side.

  Bella, white with rage at this indignity, sprang to wrench open thedoor, but almost before she reached it, the key clicked in the lock, andshe knew that she was a prisoner. And the door was so stout and strongthat there was no chance of a frail girl, such as she was, breaking itdown. But Bella was in a royal rage, and it was in her mind to scrambleout of the window and escape.

  "But what's the use!" she thought, her eyes filling with impotent tears."I have no money, and no friends, and no other home. What a shame it isfor me to be at the mercy of my father in this way! I shall have tosubmit to this insult. There is nothing else I can do. But oh, oh!"--sheclenched her hands as she again returned to the window and looked outinto the rapidly darkening night. "I shall insist upon Cyril marrying meat once. If he loves me he surely will not stand by idly, when I amtreated in this way."

  Trying to calm herself, she walked up and down the room. The one sliceof toast and the one cup of tea were on the table, but anger had takenher appetite. Inexperienced in the troubles of life, she was like anewly-captured bird dashing itself against the wires of its hatefulcage. To and fro the girl walked, revolving plans of escape from herfather's tyranny, but in every direction the want of money proved anobstacle impossible to surmount. Nothing remained but for her to waitpatiently until she could see Cyril the next day. Then an exhaustivetalk might lead to the formation of some plan whereby her future couldbe arranged for.

  Faint and far, she heard the clock in Marshely church-tower strike thehour of eight, and began to think of retiring to bed. The night was hot,so she flung up the window, and permitted the fresh air to circulate inthe close room. The atmosphere was luminous with starlight, althoughthere was no moon visible. A gentle wind bent the rustling stalks of thevast corn-fields, and their shimmering green was agitated like the wavesof the sea. White mists rose ghost-like on the verge of the farm, andinto them the ocean of grain melted faintly. What with the mists and theluminous night and the spreading wheat-fields phantom-like in theobscurity, Bella felt as though she were in a
world of vague dreams.

  Looking down the narrow path, which showed a mere thread in thesemi-gloom, she beheld a tall, dark figure advancing towards the house.It was that of a man, and by the way in which he walked, Bella felt surethat he was her lover. Her heart beat wildly. Perhaps Cyril had come,or, rather, was coming, to see the captain, and to plead his suit oncemore. Greatly agitated by this unforeseen visit, she leaned out of thewindow as the man came almost directly under it. He was Cyril, she feltcertain, both from his carriage and from the fact that she vaguely sawthe grey suit he wore. During the afternoon, Lister had been thusdressed.

  "Cyril! Cyril!" she called out cautiously.

  The man looked up, and in the faint light she saw that he was indeedCyril, for the eyes of love were keen enough to pierce the obscurity,and also her window was no great height from the ground. But the manlooked up, making no sign of recognition, and stepped into the housewithout knocking at the door. Bella started back in surprise. She knewthat the front door was always unlocked until ten, when her fatherusually retired to bed. But it seemed strange that Cyril, who hadquarrelled with the captain that very day, should choose to risk hisfurther wrath by entering the house uninvited. Also, it was strangerstill that Cyril should have looked up without making some sign. He musthave known who she was, for, failing sight, he had his hearing torecognise her voice. It was all very strange.

  Bella twisted up her hair, which she had let down, and walked to thetable to take up the now cold cup of tea. Her throat was parched withthirst by reason of her nerves, and she wished to refresh herself sothat she might think of what was best to be done. Cyril and her fatherhad quarrelled, and again she remembered the ominous threats they hadused to one another. It was inconceivable madness for Lister to to beardthe captain in his den, knowing what a vile temper the old manpossessed. It was not at all impossible, or even improbable, but whatthe afternoon quarrel might be renewed, and then heaven only knew whatmight happen.

  Drinking the cup of tea hastily, Bella thought over these things andresolved, if she could not escape by the door, to scramble out of thewindow. Then she could enter the house, and appear in the captain's den,to be present at what would probably be a stormy interview. Already shewas straining her ears to catch the faintest sound of quarrelling, butas yet she could hear nothing. Certainly Cyril had closed the frontdoor, for immediately he had entered she had heard him do so. And again,the walls of the old mansion were so thick, that it was impossible shecould hear, when shut up in her bedroom, what was taking place below.

  Anxiously she tried the door, but in spite of all her efforts, shefailed to open it. Wild with alarm as to what might be happening, shecrossed to her bed, intending to twist the sheets into a rope fordescent from the window. But as she caught at the linen, she felt adrumming in her ears, and sparks seemed to dance before her eyes.Apparently the strain on her nerves was making her ill. Also she feltunaccountably drowsy, and in spite of every effort to keep awake, shesank beside the bed, with the sheets still grasped in her hands. In twoor three minutes she was fast asleep.

  The window was still open, and a bat swept into the room. He flittedround the motionless figure, uttering a thin cry, and again passed outinto the starry night. The silvery voices of the nightingales in thecopses round Marshely village came faintly across the meadows mingledwith the cry of a mouse-hunting screech-owl. Still Bella slept on.

  Hour after hour passed, and the night grew darker. The wind died away,the corn-fields ceased to rustle, the nightingales to sing. It becamecolder, too, as though the breath of winter was freezing the now moistair. The stars yet glittered faintly, and the high-pitched whistle of asteamer could be heard from the distant river, but on the whole, theearth was silent and weirdly gloomy for summer-time. During the smallhours there came an ominous hush of expectant dread, which lasted untilthe twittering birds brought in the dawn.

  Bella opened her eyes, to find her room radiant with royal red light.She felt sick and dizzy, for over her stood Mrs. Coppersley, shaking hervigorously by the shoulder. "Bella, Bella! Your father is dead. Murder,murder! Oh, come to the study and see the murder!"