The Buccaneer Farmer Part 17

CHAPTER XII

OSBORN INTERFERES

When Grace and Kit had gone a short distance they heard voices and a rattle of sticks in the wood, but the noise got fainter and she imagined the beaters were moving the other way. Ferrars, who shot at the woodc.o.c.k, had probably not had time to tell Osborn about his carelessness, and it looked as if n.o.body else had been posted near the road. This was something of a relief, but Grace felt anxious. A gate not far off led to a drive in the wood, and she thought she had heard Osborn's voice.

She kept on the belt of gra.s.s, which got narrower, so that the path ran close to the hedge. On the opposite side, a clump of silver-firs threw a shadow across the road, and a patch of pale-yellow sky shone behind an opening in the trees. The stiff fir-branches cut sharply against the glow, but where she and Kit were the light was dim. For all that, she stopped abruptly when a man came out of the wood and turned, as if to look up the road. It was...o...b..rn and she thought she knew for whom he was looking.

Grace's judgment failed her. She pushed Kit towards the beech hedge and they stepped into a small hollow among the withered leaves. Kit like Grace, had not had time for thought, but as...o...b..rn, looking straight in front, went past, he felt he had done wrong. For one thing, it was rather shabby to hide and his doing so reflected on his companion. The feeling got stronger as...o...b..rn went up the road, and Kit was sorry he had given way to a cowardly impulse. Yet since he had hidden, he must wait.

After a few moments, Grace turned her head and Kit saw her face was flushed. It was obvious that she felt much as he felt. She had prompted him to hide, but she had done so in sudden alarm and he ought to have kept cool and thought for both, particularly since it was getting plain that Osborn was looking for them. The latter stopped, hesitated, and came back, and Grace turned sharply to Kit. Her look was strained, but he got a hint of haughtiness and resolve. He made a sign that he understood, and knew he had done well when he moved back from the hedge. A moment's hesitation would have cost him the girl's respect. They waited in the road and Kit's heart beat fast, but not with fear.

Osborn stopped a yard or two off and looked at them with sternly controlled rage.

"It's obvious that I pa.s.sed you just now," he said.

"You did; I ought to have stopped you," Kit agreed. "For a moment, it did not strike me that you were looking for Miss...o...b..rn."

Osborn glanced at the hollow in the hedge. "It's curious you stopped at a spot where there was not much chance of your being seen."

Grace turned, as if she meant to speak, but Kit resumed: "After all, I don't know that you are ent.i.tled to question what I do on a public road."

"Certainly not," said Osborn, with forced quietness. "I have, however, a right to question my daughter's choice of her acquaintances, and it looks as if I had some grounds for using my authority." He paused and turned to Grace. "Your mother is waiting for you. You had better go home."

Grace hesitated, glancing at Kit. It was her fault that they had hidden and she would have waited had she thought he wanted her. Kit's face, however, was hard and inscrutable, and with something of an effort she went away. It was a relief to Kit that she had gone; he had meant to keep her out of the quarrel and now he was ready to talk to Osborn.

"The matter doesn't end here," the latter remarked. "There's something to be said that your father ought to know. I am going to Ashness and expect you to come with me."

"You must wait. I have some sheep at the beckfoot and it will take me half an hour to drive them home," Kit said coolly.

Osborn looked at him with savage surprise. It was unthinkable that he should be forced to wait while the fellow went for his sheep, but he saw that Kit was not to be moved and tried to control his anger.

"Very well. I will meet you at Ashness in half an hour."

Kit braced himself as he went up the road. In a sense, he was not afraid of Osborn, but he had now to meet a crisis that he ought to have seen must come. In fact, he had seen it, and had, rather weakly, tried to cheat himself and put things off. He loved Grace, and Osborn would never approve. Kit knew Osborn's pride and admitted that his anger was, perhaps, not altogether unwarranted. For that matter, he doubted if Grace knew how far his rash hopes had led him. Then he thrilled as he remembered that when she pushed him back to the hedge, and afterwards when they left their hiding place, something had hinted that she did know and acknowledge him her lover.

In the meantime, it was a relief to drive the sheep down the dale; he could not think while he was occupied and thought was disturbing. He put the sheep into a field and overtook Osborn as he went up the farm lonning in the dark. A lamp burned in the kitchen, and when they went in Peter got up and put his pipe on the table. He looked at them with some surprise, but waited without embarra.s.sment. Indeed, Kit thought his father was curiously dignified.

"Mr. Osborn has something to say he wants you to hear," Kit remarked.

"Although the thing's really my business, I agreed."

Osborn refused the chair Peter indicated and stood in a stiff pose. His face was red and he looked rather ridiculously savage.

"I found your son and my daughter hiding from me in the hedge at Redmire wood," he said. "I imagine I'm ent.i.tled to ask for an explanation."

"Hiding?" said Peter, who turned to Kit. "That was wrong."

"It was wrong," Kit admitted. "I told Mr. Osborn so. In fact, I must have lost my head when I made a mistake like this. Since I had the honor of Miss...o...b..rn's acquaintance--"

"Who presented you to my daughter?" Osborn interrupted.

"n.o.body," Kit admitted, with some embarra.s.sment. "The day the otter hounds were hunting the alder pool Miss...o...b..rn wanted to cross the stepping stones. Some of them were covered and I--"

"Ah!" said Osborn. "Then the thing began as long since as that?" He turned to Peter. "The girl is young and foolishly proud of being unconventional, or she would have known that she could make use of your son's help without an obligation to speak to him again. It's obvious that he has worked on her rebellious humor until she forgot what is due to herself and her parents."

"Stop a bit," said Peter. "She was doing her parents no discredit by speaking to my son."

"No discredit!" Osborn exclaimed, losing his self control. "When I find her and the fellow skulking out of sight, like a farm hand and a dairy-maid!"

Kit raised his head and his eyes sparkled. "In a sense, I am a farm hand; but it would be better if you kept your hard words for me."

"There are verra good dairymaids; modest, hardworking la.s.ses,"

Peter remarked.

"It's rather late to play the part of a rustic cavalier, if that is what you meant," Osborn said to Kit with a sneer, and then turned to Peter. "I am forced to own that the girl deserves some blame. Although she's impulsive and unconventional, she ought to have seen it was ridiculous to let your son imagine they could be friends."

"You think that was ridiculous?"

"Of course," said Osborn, with haughty surprise. "The absurdity of the thing is obvious."

"Weel," said Peter dryly, "I reckon they might be friends without much harm, though I wadn't have them gan farther. Although the la.s.s is yours, the lad is mine."

Osborn laughed scornfully. "If I understand you, your att.i.tude is humorous. But do you wish me to believe you didn't know what was going on? You have made my tenants dissatisfied and plotted against me, and now, no doubt, you saw another means."

"Stop," said Peter, with stern quietness. "We have not been good neebors, though I dinna ken that's much fault o' mine; but if you thowt I'd use a foolish girl to hurt a man I didn't like, you're varra wrang. Hooiver, you came for an explanation, and I want one, too." He turned to Kit. "You had better tell us why you kept up Miss...o...b..rn's acquaintance withoot her father's consent."

"Very well," said Kit, standing very straight and holding up his head. "I met Miss...o...b..rn, so to speak, by accident, and afterwards we sometimes talked. Her beauty and talent were plain to me at first, but it was some time before I knew I loved her, and then it was too late. I knew my folly--it was a folly I couldn't conquer, and now I think I never shall.

Well, I suppose I hoped that some day things might change."

"Do you imply that Grace knew what you hoped?" Osborn asked.

"No," said Kit, quietly. "I gave her no hint. It was plain that she was willing we should meet and talk like friends. This was not wrong."

"Not wrong that my daughter should meet you secretly!" Osborn exclaimed with sudden rage. "Are you foolish enough to imagine you and a member of my family could meet like equals?"

"I have not pretended to be Miss...o...b..rn's equal. But the inequality I acknowledge is not what you mean."

Osborn shrugged with scornful impatience. "Pshaw! We'll let that go. You said you hoped things might change. Do you think any change of fortune could give you the tastes and feelings of a gentleman? Make you a proper husband for my daughter? You know the thing's impossible."

Kit colored and hesitated, and Peter signed him to be quiet.

"These meetings must be stopped. I'm as much against such a match as I think you are."

"Ah," said Osborn, who looked puzzled, "you hinted something of the kind!

I don't know that your point of view's important, but I can't understand."

"My meaning's no varra hard to see," Peter answered. "The la.s.s is bonny and, so far as I ken, weel-meaning and kind; but she has been badly browt up at an extravagant hoose. She'll not can help her husband, except mayhappen to waste, and she has niver learned to work and gan withoot.

Weel, it seems we are agreed. Miss...o...b..rn is no the la.s.s I would welcome for my son's wife."