North, South and over the Sea Part 10

"Eh, I doubt Ted 'ud sooner ha' th' five shillin' worth," suggested one of Ted's boon companions.

"I dunno," replied Ted; "I reckon I'd as soon ha' th' bra.s.s."

"Ah, but thou'lt coom to Orme's for it?"

"Nay--I fancy one on you had best bring it to my place--hoo met get to hear on 't, ye know," he explained with a sheepish smile.

There was a great guffawing and stamping of feet at this. Ted was slapped on the shoulder, his friends declaring that n.o.bry could beat him. By-and-by he managed to make his escape, and walked pensively homewards, shaking his head now and then, and muttering to himself:--

"Ah, hoo'd happen get to hear on 't if I went yonder; aye, the bra.s.s 'ull coom in reet 'nough. I'll say nought about that."

He continued his courting a.s.siduously during the ensuing week, and on the Sunday he and Margaret were "shouted" for the second time.

The ecstasy of his friends knew no bounds. Was there ever such a chap as Ted for a marlock? How long would he keep it up? they wondered. In a day or two the news flew from mouth to mouth that Ted had given the agent six months' notice, and that he had announced his intention of letting his house and taking up his abode at Margaret's after their wedding.

"Well! well!" cried the initiated, casting up their hands and eyes to heaven; the more moderate among them were of the opinion that Ted was carrying things a bit too far, particularly when' it became known that Margaret was boiling hams and killing chickens--yes, Sophia and Ernest, William and Augusta were laid low--in preparation for the forthcoming nuptial feast.

On the third Sunday the general excitement reached fever-height, and when once more the Canon linked the names of Edward Wharton and Margaret Heptonstall, a kind of amazed murmur rippled from bench to bench. All those who had been party to the plot against Margaret's peace were totally at a loss to account for the conduct of the chief conspirator. They made up their minds to take him to task at the earliest possible opportunity; but, as on that particular morning he did not come to church, they were forced to restrain their curiosity till later in the day.

After dinner, therefore, a select deputation waited on Mr. Edward Wharton at his own residence, but was again doomed to disappointment; that gentleman having gone to call on his charmer, and not returning till evening. However, the ardour of the deputation, though damped, was not extinguished, and when the shades of night were falling, it again betook itself to the abode of the bridegroom elect.

As the half-dozen members who made up the emba.s.sy walked at the usual slow and somewhat shambling pace which the Lancashire rustic a.s.sumes at times of leisure--pausing every now and then to emphasise the point of some remark, switching at the hedge with their sticks, playfully kicking up the dust, or sending a tempting pebble spinning along in front of them--faint notes of music reached them, coming apparently from the direction towards which they were bending their steps. These notes were feeble and faltering, as though the player were practising an unfamiliar air; in another moment or two it became evident that the sounds proceeded from Ted's cottage, and that the musician was no other than Mr. Wharton himself.

Quickening their pace, the hilarious party burst open the door, discovering the master of the house seated astride a wooden chair, concertina in hand; his face wore a most serious, not to say dismal, expression, and his whole att.i.tude betokened absorption.

Joe Lovelady advanced and clapped him on the shoulder with a loud laugh; the others followed, less jubilantly; one or two of them, indeed, felt themselves somewhat aggrieved at Ted's unaccountable demeanour.

"Coom," cried Joe, "thou mun explain a bit, Ted, lad. We're gettin'

fair moidered wi' this job; how long dost thou mean to keep it up?"

"Haven't you and Margaret fallen out yet?" put in another. "Ye're carryin' on th' coortin' longer nor we looked for."

"Ah, thou said thou'd content thysel' with bein' shouted, didn't thou?

Thou allus said thou didn't mean it to coom to wedlock."

Ted heaved a deep sigh, and looked solemnly from one to the other.

"Theer's no knowin' i' this warld what folks cooms to," he replied seriously. "We says one thing an' we reckon we'se do it, an' when th'

time cooms it's impossible."

A blank silence fell upon the company, broken presently by Joe.

"Why," he said, "thou doesn't mean thou'rt goin' to carry out this here business?"

Ted nodded, seriously and regretfully.

There was a general shout.

"Thou'rt never goin' to wed owd Marg'ret Hep.?"

"Hoo's noan so owd as that cooms to," retorted Ted indignantly. "Her an' me's mich of an age--I _am_ goin' to wed her. Now then! I've coorted her, an' we'n been shouted, an' I'm goin' to let it go forrud.

Theer! I hope n.o.bry hasn't got no objections."

n.o.body hadn't none, it appeared, though from certain low murmurs and a general shuffling of feet, it was evident that this unexpected outcome of Ted's joke caused a good deal of dissatisfaction. Joe, indeed, gave voice to the universal opinion when he observed that it wasn't what he had looked for, and he couldn't think it altogether 'andsome of Ted.

Somebody else wanted to know what about their five shillin'?

"Well, an' what about the five shillin'?" repeated Ted, reddening, however, a little uncomfortably.

"Well, this here isn't what we expected; nay, not by a long road. We was lookin' for summat joy'al, a gradely marlock, thou knows. This here's an ord'nary kind o' business."

"Ah, we all paid up--we did that, an' we'n been waitin' for thee to look in yonder at Orme's! We was all expectin' a bit of a do, thou knows--an' thou's never so much as coom nigh th' place. An' thou settled to get wed an' all, wi'out namin' it to n.o.bry! It's scarce honest."

Ted scratched his jaw reflectively; the argument seemed to touch him.

After a pause he rose and crossed the room to a chest of drawers in the corner. Unlocking an upper drawer he took out a greasy leathern purse with which he returned to the expectant group. Opening it, with a kind of groan, he extracted five shillings, which he handed over to Joe Lovelady.

"Theer," he said, "it is but fair when all's said an' done. Theer! ye can have a wet wi' that."

"Reet, I knowed ye wasn't one as 'ud play us a dirty trick. Coom along, an' we'se have a drop all round, an' drink thy 'ealth an' th'

bride's too. Ho! ho! ho! Aye, we'se wish thee an' thy missus good luck! Coom, we'se step out an' mak' up for lost time."

"Nay, nay," said Ted, shaking his head with gentle melancholy. "I'll noan go wi' you--I met rue it at arter. Nay, I'll wish ye good-bye an'

good luck, all on you, but I'll bide wheer I am."

He returned thereupon to his concertina, meeting all further persuasions by deep sighs and obdurate shakes of the head; and, finding their efforts useless, the party withdrew at last, to drink his health without him.

As they retraced their steps the uncertain notes of Ted's concertina came floating after them, borne upon the evening breeze; gradually these shaped themselves into a tune, a tune which their incredulous ears were at last forced to identify. Joe Lovelady suddenly paused and threw out his hand.

"'Ark, all on ye, 'ark at that! Do ye know the tune th' owd lad's hammerin' at?"

They all paused, holding their breaths; and then shouts of laughter broke the stillness.

Radical Ted was playing _G.o.d Save the Queen_.

HEATHER IN HOLBORN

"I can scarce fancy her living here," said the man, pausing half-way up the stairs to look upwards at the dusty length which remained to be traversed. "Nay, she could never live here. I'm come on a fool's errand, but I may as well see it through."

His tall, broad-shouldered figure disappeared behind another angle, and halted at length on the fifth floor. On the door facing him a name was neatly painted:--_Mr. Whiteside_.

"'Tis a Lancashire name, right enough," he said, "but there weren't any Whitesides in our part when I was a lad. It'll be some stranger as our Molly took up with--well, let's go for'ard."

His tap was answered by a fresh-coloured woman, neatly clad in a stuff gown. The man surveyed her with a curious searching look, and she stared back at him.

"What was you pleased to want, sir?" she inquired at length, growing uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "Mr. Whiteside--that's my husband--is out."