Carette of Sark Part 13

"C'est ca. It is since you left. His father has settled himself on Herm. He is a great man in these parts nowadays. They do say--"

"They do say--?" I asked, as she stopped short.

"Bon dou! They say many strange things about M. Torode. But you know how folks talk," she murmured.

"And what kind of things do they say, Aunt Jeanne?"

"Oh, all kinds of things. He's making a fine streak of fat--"

"So much the better for him."

"Maybe! But, mon dou, when a man gets along too quickly, the others will talk, you know. They say he has the devil's own luck in all he undertakes.

He has three of the fastest cha.s.se-marees in the Islands, and they say he's never lost a cargo yet. And they say he has dealings with the devil and Bonaparte and all the big merchants in Havre and Cherbourg. But of late he's gone in for privateering, and the streak's growing a fat one, I can tell you. He's got the finest schooner in these waters, and, ma fe, broth and soup are both alike to him, I trow! Oh yes, he can see through a fog, can Monsieur Torode."

"And what does Peter Port say to it all?"

"Pergui! Peter Port didn't like having its bread taken out of its mouth,--not that it's bread contents Monsieur Torode, not by a very long way. Fine doings there are on Herm, they say, when they're all at home there. But he's too big and bold a man to interfere with. He pays for the island, they say, and a good price too. Some say he's a wealthy emigre turning his talents to account. For myself--" and the black sun-bonnet nodded knowingly.

"You don't care for him over much, Aunt Jeanne?" and I felt unreasonably glad that it was so.

"Ma fe, I've never set eyes on the man and never wish to! But such luck is not too natural, you understand. The devil's flour has a way of turning to bran, and what comes with the flood goes out with the ebb sometimes."

"All the same you invite the young one here."

"The door of Beaumanoir is wide to-night, and everyone who chooses to come is welcome. Though I wouldn't say but what some are more welcome than others.... Brecqhou and Herm have dealings together, you understand," she murmured presently. "That is how this youngster finds himself here--Bernel, they call him. The old one is much away and the young one does his business hereabouts. And see the airs he puts on! One would think the Island belonged to him, and he hasn't had the grace to come and say how d'ye do to me yet. For myself--"

"For yourself, Aunt Jeanne?"

"Eh b'en!" with a twinkle. "One likes one's own calves best, oui gia!" and I felt like kissing the little old brown hand.

Young Torode had joined the others, and was laughing and joking with the girls, though it seemed to me that the men received him somewhat coldly.

Then some remark among them directed his attention to Jeanne Falla and myself in the corner behind the dresser, and he came over at once.

"Pardon, Mistress Falla!" he said,--I think I have said before that Aunt Jeanne was more generally called by her maiden name of Falla than by her married one of Le Marchant, and she preferred it so,--"I was wondering where you were. You have given us a most charming surprise,"--with a nod towards the flower-decked green-bed. "But why is the G.o.ddess condemned to silence?"

"Because it's the rule. And, ma fe, it is good for a girl's tongue to be tied at times." Then, in answer to the enquiring looks he was casting at me, she said, "This is Phil Carre of Belfontaine, whom some folks thought dead. But I never did, and he's come back to show I was right. This is M.

Bernel Torode of Herm, Phil, mon gars."

And young Torode and I looked into one another's eyes and knew that we were not to be friends. What he saw amiss in me I do not know, but to me there was about him something overmasterful which roused in me a keen desire to master it, or thwart it.

"You are but just home, then, M. Carre?" he asked.

"This evening."

"From--?"

"From Florida last by way of New York."

"Ah! Many ships about?"

"Not many but our own."

"There will be no bones left to pick soon," he laughed, "and the appet.i.te grows. And what with the preventive men and their new powers it will soon be difficult to pick up an honest living."

"From all accounts M. Torode manages it one way or another," I said.

"All the same it gets more difficult. It's a case of too many pots and not enough lobsters."

And then Jeanne Falla, who had gone across to the others, suddenly clapped her hands, and Nicholas Grut's hungry bow dashed into a quick step that set feet dancing in spite of themselves.

And Carette sprang up from her seat and stepped out of her bower, and her face, radiant at her release, had in it all the loveliness of all the flowers from among which she came. The roses clung to her white gown as though loth to let her go, and strewed the ground as she pa.s.sed, and no man's heart but must have jumped the quicker at sight of her coming towards him with welcomes in her eyes and hands.

She came straight across to us, and the other girls watched eagerly to see which of us she would speak to first--for Midsummer Eve is as full of signs and omens as Aunt Jeanne's gache of currants.

She gave a hand to each of us, the left to me and the right to young Torode, and the left is nearer the heart, said I to myself.

"Phil, mon cher," she cried joyously. "It is good to see you alive and home again. And some foolish ones said you were gone for good! And you are bigger and browner than ever--" and she held me off at arm's length for inspection. "And when did you arrive?"

"I reached home just in time for supper."

"Ah, how glad your mother would be! She and Aunt Jeanne and I were the only ones who hoped still, I do believe."

"May I beg the first dance, mademoiselle?" broke in young Torode, for the couples were whirling past us and he had waited impatiently while we talked.

"I must go and tie up my hair first. It looks like a tangle of vraic," she laughed, and slipped away by the sides of the room and disappeared through the doorway. And young Torode immediately took up his post there to claim his dance as soon as she returned.

I was vexed with myself for giving him first chance. But truly my thoughts had not been on the dancing, but only on Carette herself, and I would have been content to look at her and listen to her all the evening without a thought of anything more.

Young Torode's visible intention of keeping to himself as much of her company as possible put me on my mettle, however, and when he dropped her into a seat after that dance, I immediately claimed the next.

I could dance as well, I think, as any man in Sercq at that time, but I felt myself but a clumsy sailorman after watching young Torode. For his easy grace and confidence put us all into the shade, and did not, I am afraid, tend to goodwill and fellowship on our part.

The other men, I noticed, had but little to say to him or he to them. He danced now and then with one or other of the girls, and they seemed to regard it more as an honourable experience than as matter of great enjoyment. And the man with whose special belle-amie he was dancing would sit and eye the pair gloomily the while, and remain silent and sulky for a time afterwards.

But, except for such little matters as that, we had a right merry time of it. Aunt Jeanne saw to that as energetically as though the hospitality of Beaumanoir had had doubts cast upon it, a thing that never could have happened. But Aunt Jeanne was energetic in all things, and this was her own special yearly feast. And, ma fe, one may surely do what one likes with one's own, and though one cannot recover one's youth one can at all events live young again with those who are young.

The lively spirits of the younger folk worked so upon their elders, that Uncle Henry Vaudin, who was seventy if he was a day, actually caught hold of Aunt Jeanne, as she was flitting to and fro, and tried to dance her into the whirling circle. But the result was only many collisions and much laughter, as the youngsters nearly galloped over them, and Aunt Jeanne and her partner stood in the centre laughing, till that dance was over.

Then she immediately challenged him to the hat dance, as being less trying to the legs and requiring more brain, and calling on Carette to make their third, they danced between three caps laid on the floor, in a way that earned a storm of applause.

Then two of the men danced the broom dance--each holding one end of the broom and pa.s.sing it neatly under their arms, and over their heads, and under their legs, as they danced in quick step to the music.

And, in the intervals of such hard work, we ate--cold meats, cunningly cooked, and of excellent quality because Aunt Jeanne had bred them herself; and the best made bread and the sweetest b.u.t.ter in Sercq, and heaps of spicy gache, all of Aunt Jeanne's own making. And we drank cider of Aunt Jeanne's own pressing, and equal to anything you could get in Guernsey. And now and again the men-folk smoked in the doorway, and if the very excellent tobacco she provided for them was not of her own growing, it was only because she had not so far undertaken its cultivation, and because tobacco could be got very cheap when you knew how to get it.

And then we danced again till the walls spun round quicker than ourselves, and even Uncle Nico's seasoned arms began to feel the strain. And still--"Faster! Faster!" cried the men, and the girls would not be beaten.

And the ropes of flowers above the green-bed swung as though in a summer gale, and the roses leaped out and joined in the dance, till the smell of them, as they were trampled by the flying feet, filled all the room.

Then, while we lay spent and panting, the men mopping themselves with their kerchiefs, and the girls fanning themselves with theirs, Aunt Jeanne, who had had time to recover from her unwonted exertions with Uncle Henry Vaudin, recited some of the old-time poems, of which she managed to carry a string in her head in addition to all the other odds and ends which it contained.