Eli's Children Part 67

"And if we find this fellow annoying--the--the ladies?" said Magnus, in a curiously hesitating way.

Artingale set his teeth hard, and spoke through them.

"The blackguard's too big to treat like a black beetle. But let that rest, and remember the saying attributed to the celebrated Mrs Gla.s.se of cookery fame--a saying, by the way, that I'm told is not to be found in her book--let us first catch our hare, which in this case is a fox, or rather I ought to say a wolf. We'll decide afterwards how we will cook him."

Magnus nodded, and walked up and down the room in a quick, nervous fashion.

"That's right! that's capital," cried Artingale, merrily. "I thought my news would make that sluggish blood of yours begin to move. By George, there's nothing like a genuine love to make a man of you."

"Or a woman," said Magnus, gloomily.

"Get out! Rubbish! Come, come, no retrograde movements: forward's the word. Now the next thing is for the knight to meet the lady in whose defence he was wounded. I'll manage a meeting, or Cynthy will, and if you don't make good use of your time I'll never forgive you. We'll speak to the Rector after you have won a little on poor Julia. He's a good fellow, and wants his girls to be happy. But by Jove, Magnus, there's nothing like a rattling good crack on the head."

"Why?"

"Excites sympathy. Young lady finds out your value. Why, my dear old boy, you look a hundred pounds better. Here, take your hat, and let's go and have a ramble. The sea air and a bit of exercise will beat all the doctor's tonics."

Magnus said nothing, but taking the cigar offered to him, he lit up, and the two young men strolled off together, along by the sea.

"Show me the place where you left Miss Mallow," said Magnus at last.

"All right," was the reply; "but wouldn't it be better if we went up the cliff and walked along the edge? I want to see where that scoundrel came up; and we might meet him."

James Magnus looked intently in his friend's countenance, and could not help noticing how hard and fixed the expression had become.

"It would not tire you too much?" he said.

"Oh no," replied Magnus, hastily, "let us do as you say."

Artingale noted the flush that came into his companion's face, and he could see that it was more due to excitement and returning health than to fever. And then, saying little but thinking a great deal of their plans, they strolled on and on, leaving town and castle behind, and having the glistening, ever-changing sea on one side, the undulating spread of well-wooded hills and valleys in the Suss.e.x weald upon their left; but far as eye could reach no sign of human being.

"These cliffs are much higher than I thought for," said Artingale at last, as he stopped for a moment to gaze down at the beach. "How little the people look. See there, Mag, those stones lying below, you would not think they were as high as you? Some of them weigh tons."

"Was it on one of those you left Miss Mallow seated?" said Magnus, eagerly.

"Oh no, quite half a mile farther on, more or less. I don't know, though, seash.o.r.e distances are deceitful. That was the pile, I think,"

he continued, pointing, "there, below where you see that dark streak on the face of the cliff."

"I see," said Magnus. "Come along."

"All right, but don't walk so close to the edge. You know, of course, that a false step means death."

"Yes, I suppose so," replied Magnus, going close to where the weathered cliff suddenly ceased and there was a perpendicular fall to the rough stones beneath. "It looks an awful depth," he continued, gazing down as if fascinated.

"Awful!" cried Artingale, "but hang it all, Mag, come away. You give a fellow the creeps. You are weak yet; suppose you turn giddy."

"No fear," said Magnus, quietly; "but do you know, Harry, whenever I look over from a height I quite realise how it is that some people end their wretched lives by jumping down. There always seems to be a something drawing you."

"Yes, I dare say," cried Artingale, with a shudder, "but if we are to play amateur detectives here goes to begin. Now then, young fellow, move on. It's agin the law to jump off these here places."

He spoke laughingly, and in supposed imitation of a constable, as he took his friend by the wrist, and pulled him away from the giddy edge of the cliff. But the next moment he was serious.

"Why, you wretched old humbug," he cried, "what are you talking about?

I've a good mind to go back."

"No, no, let's go on," said Magnus smiling, "I was only speaking scientifically."

"Indeed," said Artingale, gruffly; "then don't talk scientifically any more."

They walked on for some little distance in silence, Artingale keeping on the dangerous side, as if he doubted his friend's strength of mind, and looking down from time to time for the spot where they had found Julia, and the head of the cliff where Jock Morrison had made his ascent.

"What should we do if we met the fellow?" said Magnus suddenly.

"I don't know quite," said Artingale, shortly. "Let's find him first.

Here, look here, Magnus, those are the stones! No, no, those--the grey blocks; and that is where the blackguard got up. By George, however did he manage it? The place is enough to make one shudder--Eh? What?"

Magnus had laid his hand upon his friend's shoulder, and was pointing to where, about fifty yards away, a figure was lying, apparently asleep on the short turf, not ten yards from the edge of the cliff; and in an instant Artingale had sprung forward, recognising as he did the man of whom they were in search.

PART TWO, CHAPTER FOUR.

LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE.

The two young men had no thought of the consequences that might ensue, as they hurried over the short elastic turf towards where, almost a giant among his kind, Jock Morrison lay p.r.o.ne upon his broad back, his powerful arms crossed upon his chest, and his battered old soft felt hat drawn over his face to shade it from the sun--rather a work of supererogation, for the G.o.d of day would have had to work hard to tan it of a richer brown.

Artingale was first, but Magnus was close behind, and as they saw the man before them who had caused so much annoyance to, and so insulted those they loved, the feeling of indignation in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s bubbled up rapidly, and overflowed in hot pa.s.sion before which that better part of valour known as discretion was swept away. Artingale looked upon the great fellow as something to be soundly thrashed, but Magnus, in spite of his weakness, seemed as if his rage had regularly mastered him. He saw in those brief instants, degrading as was the idea, a rival as well as an enemy, and panting and excited he strove to be there first, so as to seize the fellow by the throat, his weakness and suffering from his late illness being forgotten in the one stern desire to grapple with this man, and look at him face to face.

But Artingale was there first, and shouted to the fellow to get up, but without eliciting any reply.

"Do you hear? Get up!" cried Artingale.

Still the man did not stir, but Magnus noted a slight motion of the hairs of his thick beard, as if his lips had twitched slightly. In other respects he was motionless, his arms folded across the deep chest and the cap over his face.

"He's not asleep, he's shamming," cried Artingale angrily; and bending down he s.n.a.t.c.hed the hat from the fellow's face and sent it skimming over the cliff, revealing a pair of fierce dark eyes glaring at him like those of some wild beast.

"Now then, young gentlemen! what's the matter?" came now in a deep voice like a growl.

"You scoundrel!" began Magnus, but he had over-rated his strength. His illness had told upon him terribly, and he could neither speak, move, nor act, but pale and haggard stood there holding his hand pressed upon his breast.

"Who are you calling names?" said the fellow fiercely.

"Leave him to me," cried Artingale. "I'll talk to him."

"Oh, two of you, eh?" exclaimed Jack; "two of you to a man as is down.

Well, as I said before, and I say again, what's the matter?"

"Look here, you dog!" cried Artingale, planting his foot upon the man's broad chest, but without eliciting a movement, "I know everything about you, and where you come from."