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Brownsmith's Boy: A Romance in a Garden, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 25. I Have A Difficult Task |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. I HAVE A DIFFICULT TASK The gardener was right. The fight was a lesson for the boys, who kept at a distance from me, during the next few days, while our scratches and bruises grew faint and began to heal. We had expected they would have been off to school; but for some reason, illness I believe, the holidays were extended for a month, and so they stayed, but I was pretty well left in peace. My first hint of Sir Francis' return was given by that gentleman himself, who came upon me suddenly as I was busy in the peach-house. I was painting away at the branches that had become infected with a tiresome kind of blight, when I heard a sharp quick step behind me, and my heart quailed, for I felt that it was Sir Francis about to take me to task for my encounter with his sons. I kept busily on with my work, in the faint, hope that he might pass me and say nothing, but he stopped short, and looked on as I busied myself with my brush and the poisonous decoction that was to kill the insects. I was in agony, for I felt that he was looking me through and through, and when he did speak at last I gave quite a jump. "Hah!" he exclaimed, "rather hard upon the insects. Well, Grant, how are you getting on?" "Very well, Sir Francis, I think," I said. "Seen any more of that boy?" "Yes, Sir Francis," I said, colouring. "Climbed up the wall, has he?" "I don't know, Sir Francis," I replied; "but he has got into the garden lately." "That's right, my lad, be frank," he said. "I know he has got into the garden. I caught my young gentleman and took him to task. He says he came because you were here." "I'm afraid that is why he did come, Sir Francis," I said. "Did you tell him to come?" "No, Sir Francis. We were never very friendly." "Ho!" he said, and he walked on looking at the peaches for a few minutes, and then went away, leaving me to wipe the cold perspiration off my forehead, for I had fully expected a severe scolding. I finished my task in the peach-house, and then went to see how the celery was getting on, for I found that when Mr Solomon gave me a task he expected me to continue to watch, whatever it was. "So that I may feel that when I have put anything in your hands it will be properly done," he said more than once; so, feeling that I was responsible for the success of the celery plants, I was on my way to the bottom garden by the pond, thinking of the encounter I had when I was busy watering there that day, when, as I turned down one of the alleys of the garden, I saw a man in the distance digging up a piece of ground with a broad spade, and turning over the soil in that easy regular way, levelling it as he went, that experienced gardeners acquire. There was something in his way of digging that seemed familiar, and I stopped and stared. The man stopped too, and glanced in my direction; but he only scraped his spade and went on, while, as soon as I had seen his profile I ran up to him and held out my hand. "Why, Ike!" I cried, "is that you?" He paused for a few moments, ran his hand over his nose, involuntarily, I'm sure, glanced down at first one leg, and then the other, after which he went on digging. "Yes," he said; "it's me." "Why, what are you doing here?" "Digging," he said gruffly, and, turning up a spadeful of earth, he gave it a blow with the spade, as if he were boxing its ears, and levelled it smoothly. "I know that," I cried; "but how is it you're here?" "Got took on." "Oh! I am glad," I cried. He looked up at me sidewise, and drove his spade in again. "No, you ain't," he said gruffly. "Indeed I am, Ike," I cried, "though you wouldn't say good-bye." "Now--now--now--now!" he cried; "don't go on that how." "Did you come this morning?" I said. "Been here 'most a week." "And I didn't know! But why did you leave Mr Brownsmith?" "I left Old Brownsmith because I wanted to leave him." "Did you have a quarrel, Ike?" "Quarrel? No! What should I want to quarrel for?" "But why did you leave?" "'Cause I liked. Man ain't a slave, is he?" "I am glad you're here, though, Ike," I cried. "Not you," he said sourly, as he thrust and chopped and levelled the soil. "Indeed but I am," I cried. "Yes, sir, coming," I shouted, for I heard Mr Solomon asking for me. I went to him, and he set me to water the pots that had been plunged under the big wall; but on going to the pump in the middle of the big walk, where the well was that we used for this garden, I found the handle swing loosely up and down. I went and told Mr Solomon that there was no water to be had there. "I thought as much!" he cried angrily. "I saw those boys jerking the handle about yesterday. Here, Bunce!" Bunce was sent off with a message, and I went about some other task, glad to find that Ike was there at work, for somehow I liked him, though I did not know why, since he was always very gruff and snappish with me. But still it seemed as if he had come to Hampton because I was there. The next morning, after breakfast, as I went down the garden I found that Mr Solomon was by the well talking to a man who carried a basket of tools. As I approached he put them down, Mr Solomon helped him, and together they lifted up a great stone in the pathway, which covered the mouth of the well. There is something very attractive and yet repellent about a well, at least to me. I always want to look down it and listen to the peculiar echoing noise, and the whispers that seem to creep about its green wet sides. It was so here, and while the man stood talking to Mr Solomon I went down on one knee and peered into the well, to see, far down, a glistening round of what looked like a mirror with my face in it, but in a blurred indistinct way, for there was a musical splashing of water falling from the sides, and as I bent lower the air seemed cold and dank, while above it was sunny and warm. I started up suddenly, for just then I heard a laugh, and recalling the way in which I had been thrust into the pond I did not care to risk a kick from him who laughed, or from his companion. For, attracted by Bunce, who was carrying a long ladder, they asked him if he was going to gather fruit, and on learning that the well was being opened they, to use their own words, came to see the fun. Bunce laid the ladder along the path and went off again to his work, while the two boys seemed to ignore my presence, and stood talking to one another and waiting, Philip throwing stones, while Courtenay amused himself by kicking a coil of rope that lay upon the path. "Here, Grant," cried Mr Solomon, turning upon me suddenly. "Run to the cottage and get a candle and a box of matches." "Yes, sir," I said, going. "Yes sir, certainly sir, yes sir," said Philip in a mocking tone. "And, Grant," shouted Mr Solomon, "bring one of the men with you." "Bunce?" I said. "No, he's busy. Bring that new man, Isaac." I ran off to the cottage for the candle and matches, and Mrs Solomon asked what they were for. "To see down in the well, I think," I said. "Oh yes, to be sure! the pump is broken. Tell master to be very careful. Wells are very dangerous places. I once knew of a well where four men tumbled down and never came up again." "We'll take care not to tumble," I cried laughing; and I ran off to find Ike, who was digging away near where I had seen him before. "Eh! Good mornin'!" he said sourly. "Is it? I didn't know. Mornin's seems always all alike to a man as has to dig." "But how well you're doing it, Ike! It's better dug than our men generally dig it." "Be it?" he said dubiously: "Well, I have punished it pretty well. Ground's very foul and full o' bear-bine." "Put down your spade and come along with me," I cried; "they're doing something to the well." "All right, I'll come!" said Ike sourly. "Pay me my wage and I'm ready. Night work or day work, it's all the same to me, and such is life. 'Tis a rum set out." "Don't grumble, Ike," I said, "on a morning like this." "Grumble! That ain't grumbling. But I say, young 'un, are you glad I come?" "Why, of course I am, Ike." "So am I then. I s'pose I come o' purpose to work along o' you; but I miss my hoss a deal. I say, Old Brownsmith didn't like it a bit; but here I am; and did you know about young Shock?" "No: what about him? Have they caught him and sent him away?" "No: they've caught him and give him a decent suit of clothes, so stiff he can't hardly move in 'em, and he's took on." "Shock is?" "To be sure he is; and if he behaves decent his fortun's made." "Oh, look here, my man," said Mr Solomon as we came up, "you had better stop here and help. Lower down that ladder." Ike took hold of the ladder as if it were an enemy, gave me a nod, and I went and stood at the foot, so as to hold it down, while Ike raised it erect, and then, taking it by the rounds with his strong brown hands, he lifted it as if it had been a feather, and, walking to the mouth of the well, let the ladder glide softly down till he held the top in his hands; then, swinging it about, he found a resting-place for the bottom upon a piece of wood such as were fixed across the well every ten or a dozen feet to support the pipe and other gear of the pump. "That do, master?" said Ike. "Yes," said Mr Solomon. "Now, Mr Grinling, you had better try her. Here, stop, what are you going to do?" "Going down," said Courtenay. "Do you know that well is perhaps very foul?" cried Mr Solomon. "Then it's your place to keep it clean," said Philip sharply. "Go on down, Court, or else I shall." "You won't, neither of you, go down while I'm here," said Mr Solomon stoutly. "What right have you to interfere?" cried Courtenay: "Same right as any man has to interfere when he sees a young goose going to throw away his life." "Oh rubbish!" said Courtenay. "Just as if I couldn't go down a ladder. Here, stand aside." Mr Solomon did not stand aside, and he looked so very sturdy and firm that Courtenay gave up and drew back with his brother, whispering and waiting his opportunity. During this time the plumber had been rattling his tools in his basket, and Mr Solomon turned to him again. "Ain't you going to try her?" he said. "That well hasn't been open these two years." "Oh! she's right enough," said the plumber sourly. "It ain't the first time I've been down a well." "But I don't think it's safe," said Mr Solomon. "What do you say?" he continued, turning to Ike. "Looks right enough," said Ike, kneeling down and looking into the well. Then rising, "but I wouldn't go down unless I didn't want to come up no more." "Tchah!" ejaculated the plumber; and I knelt down once more to look for the danger, but could see nothing but the dark whispering hole, with, at a great depth below, the round disc of light representing the mouth of the well. Just then something passed my head and fell down with, after a while, a strange hollow _plash_ from below. "That'll do," said Mr Solomon angrily. "No more of that, please." "You mind your own business, Browny. Anyone would think you were the master here." "Master or no, here's Sir Francis coming. Let's see whether he likes you to be throwing stones down the well." Mr Solomon uttered a sigh of relief, for, as Sir Francis came along a neighbouring path, the two lads slowly walked away. "That's a blessing," he said. "Now we can work in peace. You'll try her first--won't you, plumber?" "All right, gardener. What are you scared about?" Mr Solomon looked at him angrily and then said: "I don't know that I'm scared about you, my man; but I don't want to risk my life, or to send down one of my men to fetch you out." The plumber grunted, and I looked on wondering what the danger was, for I knew nothing then about chemistry or foul gases; and I stared all the more when the plumber took a ball of thin string from his jacket pocket, tied the candle with a couple of half hitches, and then struck a match and lit the wick. Then as soon as it was burning brightly, sheltered by his hands from the breeze, he stooped down and held it in the well and then lowered it down. We stood round watching the candle swing gently and the flame dance as the plumber slowly unrolled the ball of string. At first the light looked very pale; but it grew brighter as it left the sunshine near the mouth of the well and lit up the dark slimy-looking old bricks, the rusty iron pipe, and the cross pieces of timber, while far down I could now and then catch sight of the cylinder of the pump as the candle began to swing now like a pendulum. It was very indistinct, just gleaming now and then, while the walls glistened, and I realised more and more what a horrible place it would be for anyone to fall into. I was full of imaginings of horror, and I fancied the fearful splash, the darkness, the rising to the surface, and then the poor wretch-- myself perhaps--striving to get my fingers in between the slippery bricks, and getting no hold, and then--"There!--what did I tell you?" said Mr Solomon. "She's a foul un, and no mistake," growled Ike. "Oh! that's nothing," said the plumber. "I've been down worse wells than that." I was puzzled, for it seemed to me that the candle must be bad. As I had watched it the flame grew brighter and brighter as it reached the darkness, and then it burned more palely, grew smaller, and then all at once it turned blue and went out. He drew it up, lit it again, and lowered it once more, and it seemed to go down a little lower before it went out. He drew it up again, relit it, and once more sent it down; and this time it went as far as the cylinder of the pump--which was fixed, I saw, on a sort of scaffold or framework where the foot of the ladder rested. I was able to see all this before the light went out and was drawn up again. "All right in a few minutes," said the plumber; and he unfastened the candle, lowered down his basket of tools by means of the string, and made it lodge on a bit of a platform close by the works of the pump. It was all very interesting to me to see how low down the pump was fixed, and that the handle worked an iron rod up and down--a rod of great length. The plumber took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, after sticking the candle in his waist and the matches in his pocket, and prepared to descend. "Why, you are not going down like that--are you?" said Mr Solomon. "I always do go down like that," said the man with a laugh. "How should you go down-head first?" "No," cried Mr Solomon angrily; "but with a rope fastened to my waist, and a couple of men to hold it." "D'yer think I'm a baby?" said the plumber, "or a little child?" "Worse," said Mr Solomon shortly. "You can make them do what's right." "Tchah! I know what I'm about, just as well as you know how to bud roses." "I dare say you do," said Mr Solomon sternly; "but that well's got a lot of foul gas in it, and you're not going down without a rope to hold you." "Rubbish!" said the plumber, laughing; "I am." "And who's going to use the water agen if you're drowned in it?" said Ike seriously. "It'll be all full o' white-lead and putty, and kill the plarnts!" "You're very clever," said the plumber sharply; "but just mind your own business." As he spoke he sat down with his legs in the well, but Mr Solomon seized him by the collar. "You stop," he cried; "I won't have it. You don't go down that well without a rope round you. Fetch Bunce," he said, addressing Ike. "If I can't do my work my own way," said the plumber sharply, "I sha'n't do it at all." He started up, threw on his jacket, and went off after Ike, while Mr Solomon stood thinking. "Such idiocy!" he exclaimed. "The well isn't safe, and he wants to run unnecessary risks. I suppose he'll come back," he muttered. "Perhaps I shall have to fetch him. Here, Grant, you stop here and don't leave the mouth of the well for fear anyone should go near." He went after the men, and I lay down gazing into the dark hollow place, wondering what the foul gas was like, and whether I could see it down below; and I was just wishing that I had the candle and string to try experiments, and wondering how far the light would go down now, when I uttered a cry. My heart seemed to give a great leap, for somebody gave me a rough push and it seemed as if I were going to be thrust down the well. "There's a coward!" cried Philip jeeringly. "Did you ever see such a cur, Court? Thought he was going down." "Perhaps I did," I replied warmly, as I glanced from one to the other, wondering whether it was to be war again; but they paid no further attention to me, and began arguing between themselves. "You daren't!" said Philip. "Daren't!" cried Courtenay. "Why, I went down last time hanging to a rope when it was cleaned out, and there was no water at the bottom." "But there is water now--twenty or thirty feet, and you daren't go down." "Yes I dare." "Bet you sixpence you daren't." "Done!" cried Courtenay. "Mind I shall make you pay." "You daren't go." "All right; you'll see!" cried Courtenay; and to my horror he went close to the mouth and looked down. "You can't go down," I said; "the well isn't safe." "Who spoke to you, pauper?" cried Philip sharply. And then with a sniggering laugh, "It ain't safe, Courtenay. You can't go down, and you'll have to pay me all the same." "I'm going down," said Courtenay. "You can't," I cried. "It's full of foul air." "You mind your own business, pauper," cried Courtenay. This repetition of the word pauper so enraged me that for the moment I felt tempted to let him go down, but the next moment I shuddered at the thought and cried: "It is my business. I was to keep everyone from going near." "Don't take any notice of the workus boy, Court. Go on down, if you dare." "I dare," he said, laughing. "I tell you it isn't safe," I cried. "Do you want a punch on the head?" said Philip menacingly. "Yes, but you daren't give it me," I cried fiercely. "Never mind him," said Courtenay. "Look here, I'm only going to the bottom of the ladder. I'm not going to slide down the pipe to the water." As he spoke he sat down on the edge with his legs dangling over the side. "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Philip, seating himself opposite to him and kicking at his brother's feet. "You daren't go." "You say I daren't go again I'll take you by the scruff of the neck and make you go down instead. I say, let's send the pauper down to swallow the foul air." "There, I knew you daren't go," cried Philip. "I dare." "You daren't." "He shall not go," I cried; and I caught the lad by the collar. He gave himself a twist, and as he freed himself he struck me a savage blow with his elbow right in the lower part of the chest. The blow took away my breath and made me stagger back in agony, and gasping, while by the time I had recovered myself he had stepped on to the ladder, gone down several rounds, and his head disappeared. "There, coward, what do you think of that?" cried Philip. I ran to the side with my heart throbbing painfully, and I felt as if my eyes were wild and staring as I saw the lad go down about a dozen feet and stop. "I say, Phil," he cried, with his voice echoing and sounding hollow, "come down. It is so jolly and cool." "I'll go down when you've come up," said his brother. "That isn't far enough. I don't call that anything." "Wait a bit. Don't be in a wax." "Come up, sir, pray come up," I cried. "There's foul air lower down. The candle wouldn't burn." "Pitch him down if he don't hold his tongue, Phil," cried Courtenay. "Here goes for a slide." He grasped the sides of the ladder, took his feet off the round on which he stood, and throwing his legs round he began to slide slowly down. "I say, it's as cool as eating ices, Phil," he cried. "Come on down." Philip made no answer, but glanced at me, and I suppose my blanched and horrified countenance startled him, for he too suddenly turned white and exclaimed: "There, you've won, Court. I give in. Come back now." Too late! Courtenay slid slowly on for a few moments, then faster, and then we saw his arms relax and he fell over backwards, while as I stood on the brink gazing down I felt as if I had suddenly been turned to stone. _ |
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