Frank Fairlegh Part 29

After a brisk ride of nearly two hours along cross-roads, we came out upon a wild heath or common of considerable extent.

"Here's a famous place for a gallop," exclaimed Oaklands; "I never can make up my mind which is the fastest of these two horses; let's have a race and try their speed. Do you see that tall poplar tree which seems poking its top into the sky on the other side the common? that shall be the winning-post. Now, are you ready?"

"All right, go ahead," replied I, bending forward and giving my horse the rein. Away we went merrily, the high-couraged animals bounding beneath us, and the fresh air whistling round our ears as we seemed to cut our way through it. For some time we kept side by side. The horse Oaklands rode was, if anything, a finer, certainly a more powerful animal than the one on which I was mounted; but this advantage was fully compensated by the fact of his riding nearly a stone heavier than I did.

We were, therefore, on the whole, very fairly matched.

After riding at speed, as well as I could reckon, about two miles, Oaklands, to his great delight, had gained nearly a horse's length in advance of me--a s.p.a.ce which it seemed beyond my powers of jockeyship to recover. Between us, however, and the tree he had fixed on as our goal lay a small brook or water-course near the banks of which the ground became soft and marshy. In crossing this the greater weight of man and horse told against Oaklands, and gradually I began to creep up to him.

As we neared the brook it struck me that his horse appeared to labour heavily through the stiff clay. Now or never, then, was my opportunity; and shouting gaily, "Over first, for a sovereign--good-bye, Harry," I gave my horse the spur, and, putting him well at it, cleared the brook splendidly, and alighted safely on the farther bank.

Determined, if possible, not to be outdone, Harry selected a point, by crossing at which he could contrive to cut off a corner, and thus gain upon me considerably. In order to accomplish this it was necessary for him to take his leap at a spot where the brook was some feet wider than ordinary. Relying, however, on the known good qualities of the animal he rode, he resolved to attempt it. Settling himself firmly in his saddle, he got his horse well together, and then throwing up his whip-hand and (as Lawless -186--would have termed it) "sticking in the persuaders," he charged the brook at speed.

It was a well-imagined and bold attempt, and, had his horse been fresher, would have succeeded in winning the race; but we had kept up a fair pace during the whole of our ride, and now our gallop across the common, and more particularly the severe pace over the marshy ground, had tried his horse's wind considerably. Still, however, the n.o.ble animal strove to the utmost of its power to answer the call made upon it, and by a vigorous effort succeeded in clearing the brook; but the ground on the other side was rugged and broken, and, apparently exhausted by the exertion he had made, he stumbled, and after a slight struggle to preserve his footing fell heavily forward, pitching Harry over his head as he did so.

Fortunately the ground was soft and clayey, and neither man nor horse seemed to have sustained any injury, for I had scarcely time to draw rein ere they were on their legs again, and, as Harry's first act was to spring lightly into the saddle, I determined to secure the race at once; and cantering up to the poplar tree, which was now within a hundred yards of me, I snapped off a bough in token of victory. As I turned back again I observed that Harry had dismounted and was examining his horse's foot.

"Nothing wrong, is there?" asked I, as I rejoined him.

"Yes, everything's wrong," was the reply; "you've been and gone and won the race, you villain you--I've tumbled nose and knees into a mud-hole, and spoiled my white cord oh-no-we-never-mention-ums--and 'the Cid' has wrenched off one of his front shoes in the scrimmage."

"And that's the worst of all the misfortunes," said I, "for here we are some ten or twelve miles from Cambridge at least, in a region utterly unknown, and apparently devoid of inhabitants; so where we are to find a smith pa.s.ses my poor skill to discover."

"You're wrong about the inhabitants, I flatter myself," replied Harry.

"Do you see the faint white mist curling above those trees to the right?

I take that to be smoke; where there's smoke there must be fire; fire must have been kindled by some human being or other--through that individual we will endeavour to obtain an introduction to some blacksmith, conjointly with sufficient topographical information to enable us to reach our destination in time for a certain meal called dinner, which has acquired an unusual degree of importance in my eyes within the last hour or so. I have spoken!"

"Like a book," replied I; "and the next thing is to -187--bring your sapient deductions to the test of experiment. There is a cart-track here which appears to lead towards the smoke you observed; let us try that."

So saying, I also dismounted, and throwing my horse's bridle over my arm we proceeded together on foot in the direction Oaklands had indicated.

Ten minutes' walking brought us into a rough country lane, winding picturesquely between high banks and green hedges, affording an agreeable contrast to the flat, unenclosed tracts of corn-land so general throughout Cambridgeshire. After following this lane about a quarter of a mile, we came upon a small, retired ale-house, surrounded by trees. As we approached the door a stout, vulgar-looking woman, dressed in rather tawdry finery, ran out to meet us; on coming nearer, however, she stopped short as if surprised, and then re-entered the house as quickly as she had left it, calling to some one within as she did so. After waiting for a minute or two she came back, accompanied by a tall, disagreeable-looking man in a velveteen shooting-jacket, with a remarkably dirty face, and hands to match.

"Is there a blacksmith living anywhere near here, my good man?" inquired Oaklands.

"Mayhap there is," was the reply in a surly tone. "Can you direct us how to find him?" continued Oaklands.

"What might you want with him when you've found him?" was the rejoinder.

"My horse has cast a shoe, and I want one put on immediately,'" replied Oaklands, who was getting impatient at the man's unsatisfactory, not to say insolent, manner.

"Mayhap you won't get it done in quite such a hurry as you seems to expect! There's a blacksmith lives at Stony End, about five miles farther on. Go straight up the lane for about three miles, then turn to the right, then twice to the left, and then you'll see a finger-post that ain't got nothing on it--when you come to that----"

"Which I never shall do, depend upon it," replied Oaklands. "My good man, you don't imagine I'm going to fatigue myself and lame my horse by walking five miles up this unlucky lane, do you? If things really are as bad as you would make them out to be, I shall despatch a messenger to summon the smith, and employ myself in the meanwhile in tasting your ale, and consuming whatever you may happen to have in the house fit to eat." I observed that the landlord and his wife, as I presumed -188--her to be, exchanged very blank looks when Oaklands announced this determination. When he ceased speaking she whispered a few words into the ear of the man, who gave a kind of surly grunt in reply, and then, turning to Harry, said, "Mayhap I'll shoe your horse for you myself if you'll make it worth my while".

"_You_ will? why, I thought you said there was not a smith within five miles?"

"No more there ain't, only me."

"And you've been worrying me, and tiring my patience all this time, merely to secure yourself a better bargain? Oh, the needless trouble people give themselves in this world! Shoe the horse, man, and make your own charge; be sure I'll not complain of it, only be quick," replied Oaklands.

"P'r'aps that worn't all," returned the fellow gruffly; "but if ye be in such a mighty hurry, bring 'un along here, and I'll clap a shoe on 'un for ye in a twinkling."

So saying, he led the way through an old gate, and down a stable-yard behind the public-house, at the bottom of which, under a kind of half-barn, half-shed, was a blacksmith's shop, fitted up with a forge and other appliances for shoeing. Our conductor (who having divested himself of the velveteen jacket, which he replaced with a leather ap.r.o.n, seemed now much more in his proper element) displayed greater quickness and skill in making and applying the shoe, than from his previous conduct I should have antic.i.p.ated; and I began to flatter myself that our difficulties were in a fair way to be overcome.

I was drawing up the girths of my horse's saddle, which had become somewhat loosened from our gallop, when Oaklands, who had been sitting on a gate near, industriously flogging his boot with his riding-whip, jumped down, saying, "If you'll keep an eye to the horses, Prank, I'll go and see if I can get some of the worst of this mud brushed off".

"Better stay where you are! I shall a done direc'ly," observed the smith; "you ain't wanted at ther house, I tell yer."

"You should stick to your original trade, for your manners as an innkeeper are certainly not calculated to fascinate customers, my friend," replied Oaklands, walking towards the house.

The man muttered an oath as he looked after him, and then applied himself to his work with redoubled energy. Above ten minutes had elapsed, the shoe was made, -189--fitted to the hoof, and the process of nailing on nearly concluded, but still Oaklands did not return. I was tying my horse's rein up to a hook in the wall, with the intention of seeking him, when I heard the noise of wheels in the lane, followed immediately by the clatter of a horse's feet, ridden at speed--both sounds at the moment ceased, as if the parties had stopped at the inn-door. The blacksmith also heard them, and appeared for a moment uncertain whether to continue his work or not; then, uttering an impatient exclamation, he began twisting off and clenching the points of the nails as though his life depended on his haste. Perceiving that Oaklands' horse would be ready for him to mount directly, I turned to unfasten my own, when the sound of men's voices raised high in angry debate became audible; then a confused noise as of blows and scuffling ensued, mingled with the screams of women; and immediately the blacksmith's wife ran out, calling to her husband to hasten in, for that "_they_ had come back and quarrelled with the strange gentleman, and now they were fighting, and there would be murder done in the house".

Without waiting to hear more I ran hastily up the yard, followed by the blacksmith and the woman. On reaching the front of the house I perceived, waiting at the door, a gig, in which was seated a man, dressed in a suit of rusty black, while under the shade of the trees a boy was loading up and down a magnificent black mare, which I instantly recognised as the identical animal Wilford had become possessed of in the manner Archer had related to me. The sounds of blows and struggling still continued, and proceeded, as I now ascertained, from the parlour of the ale-house. As the readiest method of reaching the scene of action, I flung open the window, which was not far from the ground, and without a moment's hesitation leaped into the room.

CHAPTER XXIV -- HOW OAKLANDS BROKE HIS HORSEWHIP

-190--

"Away to heav'n, respective lenity, And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now."

"Use every man after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping?"

"He swore that he did hold me dear As precious eyesight, and did value me Above this world, adding thereto moreover That he would wed me."

"Men's vows are women's traitors."

"To promise is most courtly and fashionable; performance is a kind of will or testament which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it."

--Shakspeare.

THE sight which met my eyes as I gazed around was one which time can never efface from my memory. In the centre of the room, his brow darkened by the flush of concentrated indignation, stood Oaklands, his left hand clenching tightly the coat-collar of a man whom I at once perceived to be Wilford, while with his right hand he was administering such a horse-whipping as I hope never again to see a human being subjected to. Wilford, who actually writhed with mingled pain and fury, was making violent but ineffectual struggles to free himself. Near the door stood Wentworth, the blood dropping from his nose, and his clothes dusty and disordered, as if from a fall. Crouching in a corner at the farther end of the room, the tears coursing down her fear-blanched cheeks, and her hands clasped in an agony of terror and despair, was a girl, about nineteen years of age, whom I had little difficulty in recognising as Lizzie Maurice, the daughter of the old confectioner, of whose elopement we had been that morning informed. On perceiving me she sprang forward, and clasping my knees implored me to interfere and endeavour to separate them. I was not, however, called upon to do so, for, as she spoke, his riding-whip broke short in Oaklands' hand, and dashing down the fragments with an exclamation of impatience, he flung Wilford from him with so much force that he staggered forward a few paces, and would have fallen had not Wentworth caught him in his arms, just in time to prevent it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page190 The Roused Lion]

-191--Oaklands then turned to the girl, whom I had raised from the ground and placed on a chair, and addressing her in a stern impressive manner, said: "I will now resume what I was saying to you when yonder beaten hound dared to lay hands upon me. For the last time the choice is offered to you--either return home, and endeavour, by devoting yourself to your broken-hearted old father, to atone as best you may for the misery you have caused him; or, by remaining here, commence a life of infamy which will end sooner or later in a miserable death." He paused; then, as she made no reply, but sat with her face buried in her hands, sobbing as if her heart would break, he continued, "You tell me, the vile tempter who has lured you from your duty promised to meet you here to-day, and, bringing a clergyman with him, to marry you privately; now if this is the truth----"

"It is, it is," she faltered.

"If so," resumed Oaklands, "a knowledge of the real facts of the case may yet save you. This scoundrel who has promised to marry you, and who belongs to a rank immeasurably above your own, is already notorious for what are termed, by such as himself, affairs of gallantry; while the wretched impostor whom he has brought with him to act the part of clergyman is the marker at a low billiard-table, and no more a clergyman than I am."

"Is this really so?" exclaimed the girl, raising her eyes, which were swollen and red with weeping, to Wilford's face; "would you have deceived me thus, Stephen--you, whom I have trusted so implicitly?"

Wilford, who, since the severe discipline he had undergone, had remained seated, with his head resting on his hand, as if in pain, apparently unconscious of what was going on, glared at her ferociously with his flashing eyes, but made no reply. The girl waited for a minute; but, obtaining no answer, turned away with a half shudder, murmuring, "Deceived, deceived!" Then addressing Oaklands, she said, "I will go home to my father, sir; and if he will not forgive me, I can but lie down and die at his feet--better so than live on, to trust, and be deceived again".

"You have decided rightly, and will not repent it," remarked Oaklands in a milder tone of voice; then, turning to the blacksmith (who had made his appearance, accompanied by his wife, the moment the affray had ended), he continued: "you must procure some conveyance immediately to take this young person back to Cambridge, and your wife must accompany her". -192--Observing that the man hesitated, and cast an inquiring glance towards Wilford, he added sternly, "If you would not be compelled to answer for the share you have taken in this rascally business before the proper authorities, do as I have told you without loss of time".

The man having again failed in an attempt to attract Wilford's attention, asked in a surly tone, "Whether a spring-cart would do?" and, being answered in the affirmative, left the room.