The O'Ruddy: A Romance

by Stephen Crane

  CHAPTER XXV

  "You appear more at your ease when you are calm," said I to the Doctoras I squashed him into a chair. "Your ideas of murder are juvenile.Gardeners are murdered only by other gardeners, over some question ofa magnolia-tree. Gentlemen of position never murder gardeners."

  "You are right, sir," he responded frankly. "I see my mistake. Butreally, I was convinced that something dreadful was about to happen. Iam not familiar with the ways of your nationality, sir, and when yougave the resolute directions to your men it was according to myeducation to believe that something sinister was at hand, although noone could regret more than I that I have made this foolish mistake."

  "No," said I, "you are not familiar with the ways of my nationality,and it will require an indefinite number of centuries to make yourcountry-men understand the ways of my nationality; and when they dothey will only pretend that after great research they have discoveredsomething very evil indeed. However, in this detail, I am able toinstruct you fully. The gardener will not be murdered. His fluencywith a blunderbuss was very annoying, but in my opinion it was not sofluent as to merit death."

  "I confess," said Doctor Chord, "that all peoples save my own aregreat rascals and natural seducers. I cannot change this nationalconviction, for I have studied politics as they are known in theKing's Parliament, and it has been thus proved to me."

  "However, the gardener is not to be murdered," said I, "and although Iam willing to cure you in that particular ignorance I am not willingto take up your general cure as a life work. A glass of wine withyou."

  After we had adjusted this slight misunderstanding we occupied ourseats comfortably before the fire. I wished to give Paddy and Jemplenty of time to conciliate Strammers, but I must say that the waitgrew irksome. Finally I arose and went into the corridor and peeredinto the taproom. There were Paddy and Jem with their victim, thethree of them seated affectionately in a row on a bench, drinking fromquart pots of ale. Paddy was clapping the gardener on the shoulder.

  "Strammers," he cried, "I am thinking more of you than of my cousinMickey, who was that gay and that gallant it would make you wonder,although I am truthful in saying they killed him for the peace of theparish. But he had the same bold air with him, and devil the girl inthe country-side but didn't know who was the lad for her."

  Strammers seemed greatly pleased, but Jem Bottles evinced deepdisapproval of Paddy's Celtic methods.

  "Let Master Strammers be," said he. "He be a-wanting a quiet draught.Let him have his ale with no talking here and there."

  "Ay," said Strammers, now convinced that he was a great man and aphilosopher, "a quiet draught o' old ale be a good thing."

  "True for you, Master Strammers," cried Paddy enthusiastically. "It isin the way of being a good thing. There you are now. Ay, that's it. Agood thing! Sure."

  "Ay," said Strammers, deeply moved by this appreciation, which he hadbelieved should always have existed. "Ay, I spoke well."

  "Well would be no name for it," responded Paddy fervidly. "By gor, andI wish you were knowing Father Corrigan. He would be the only man tonear match you. 'A quiet draught o' old ale is a good thing,' saysyou, and by the piper 'tis hard to say Father Corrigan could have doneit that handily. 'Tis you that are a wonderful man."

  "I have a small way o' my own," said Strammers, "which even some ofthe best gardeners has accounted most wise and humorous. The power o'good speech be a great gift." Whereupon the complacent Strammerslifted his arm and buried more than half his face in his quart pot.

  "It is," said Paddy earnestly. "And I'm doubting if even the bestgardeners would be able to improve it. And says you: 'A quiet draughto' old ale is a good thing,' 'Twould take a grand gardener to beatthat word."

  "And besides the brisk way of giving a word now and then," continuedthe deluded Strammers, "I am a great man with flowers. Some of thefinest beds in London are there in my master's park."

  "Are they so?" said Paddy. "I would be liking to see them."

  "And ye shall," cried the gardener with an outburst of generousfeeling. "So ye shall. On a Sunday we may stroll quietly and decentlyin the gardens, and ye shall see."

  Seeing that Paddy and Jem were getting on well with the man, Ireturned to Doctor Chord.

  "'Tis all right," said I. "They have him in hand. We have only to sitstill, and the whole thing is managed."

  Later I saw the three men in the road, Paddy and Jem embracing thealmost tearful Strammers. These farewells were touching. Afterward myrogues appeared before me, each with a wide grin.

  "We have him," said Paddy, "and 'tis us that has an invitation to comeinside the wall next Sunday. 'I have some fine flowers in thegardens,' said he. 'Have you so?' said I. 'Well, then, 'tis myselfwill be breaking your head if you don't leave us inside to see them.''Master Paddy,' said he, 'you are a gentleman, or if not you are verylike one, and you and your handsome friend, Master Jem, as well asanother friend or two, is welcome to see the gardens whenever I canmake certain the master and mistress is out.' And with that I told himhe could go home."

  "You are doing well," I said, letting the scoundrel see in my facethat I believed his pleasant tale, and he was so pleased that he wasfor going on and making a regular book out of it. But I checked him."No," said I. "I am fearing that I would become too much interestedand excited. I am satisfied with what you've been telling me. 'Twasmore to my mind to have beaten that glass-eyed man, but we have takenthe right course. And now we will be returning to where we lodge."

  During the walk back to the "Pig and Turnip" Doctor Chord took itupon himself to discourse in his usual style upon the recent events."Of course, sir, I would care to hear of the tragic scenes which musthave transpired soon after I--I--"

  "Abandoned the vicinity?" said I.

  "Precisely," he responded. "Although I was not in the exactneighbourhood during what must have been a most tempestuous part ofyour adventure, I can assure you I had lost none of my former interestin the affair."

  "I am believing you," said I; "but let us talk now more of the future.I am much absorbed in the future. It appears to me that it will moveat a rapid pace."

  I did not tell him about my meeting with Lady Mary, because I knew, ifoccasion arose, he would spread the news over half London. Noconsideration would have been great enough to bridle the tongue of thelittle gossip from use of the first bit of news which he had everreceived warm from the fire. Besides, after his behaviour in front ofthe enemy, I was quite certain that an imparting of my news could donothing in the way of impairing his inefficiency. Consequently it wasnot necessary to trouble him with dramatic details.

  "As to the part of the adventure which took place in the garden, youare consistently silent, I observe, sir," said the Doctor.

  "I am," said I. "I come of a long line of silent ancestors. My fatherwas particularly notable in this respect."

  "And yet, sir," rejoined the Doctor, "I had gained an impression thatyour father was quite willing to express himself in a lofty and noblemanner on such affairs as attracted his especial notice."

  "He was that," said I, pleased. "He was indeed. I am only wishing Ihad his talent for saying all that was in his mind so fast that eventhe priest could not keep up with him, and goodness knows FatherDonovan was no small talker."

  "You prove to me the limitations of science, sir," said he. "AlthoughI think I may boast of some small education of a scientific nature, Ithink I will require some time for meditation and study before I willbe able to reconcile your last two statements."

  "'Tis no matter," I cried amiably. "Let it pass."

  For the rest of that week there was conference following conference atthe "Pig and Turnip" and elsewhere. My three companions were now aseager as myself for the advent of the critical Sunday when I, withPaddy and Jem, were to attempt our visit to Strammers'sflower-gardens. I had no difficulty in persuading the Doctor that hisservices would be invaluable at another place; for the memory of theblunderbuss seemed to linger with him. I had resolved to disguisemyself slightly,
for I had no mind to have complications arising fromthis gardener's eyes. I think a little disguise is plenty unless onestalks mysteriously and stops and peers here and there. A littleunostentatious minding of one's own affairs is a good way to remainundiscovered. Then nobody looks at you and demands: "Who is thisfellow?" My father always said that when he wished to disguise himselfhe dressed as a common man, and although this gained him many a hardknock of the fist and blow of the stick from people who were reallyhis inferiors, he found his disguise was perfection. However, myfather only disguised when on some secret mission from King Louis, forit does not become a gentleman to accept a box on the ears fromanybody unless it is in the service of his sovereign.

  I remember my father saying also these tours as a common man taughthim he must ever afterward ride carefully through the streets ofvillages and towns. He was deeply impressed by the way in which men,women, and children had to scud for their lives to keep from under thehoofs of the chargers of these devil-may-care gentlemen who came likewhirlwinds through narrow crowded streets. He himself often had toscramble for his life, he said.

  However, that was many years back, and I did not fear any suchadventures in my prospective expedition. In such a case I would havetrembled for what might happen. I have no such philosophy of temper ashad my father. I might take the heel of a gay cavalier and throw himout of the saddle, and then there would be a fine uproar. However, Iam quite convinced that it is always best to dodge. A good dodgerseldom gets into trouble in this world, and lives to a green old age,while the noble patriot and others of his kind die in dungeons. Iremember an honest man who set out to reform the parish in the matterof drink. They took him and--but, no matter; I must be getting on withthe main tale.