Part 8 (1/2)
”I'll talk to her,” and he went in at once to the old lady's room.
But Grannie gave him no time for argument.
”It's you's the fool, Tom,” she said decisively, as he crossed the threshold. ”There's not enough silver in Sark to make a plate for your coffin.”
”I brought out more'n enough to make your plate and mine, myself to-day,” he said triumphantly.
”Ah, bah! You'd have done better for yourself and for Sark if you'd let it lie.”
”I'd have done better still if I'd got twice as much.”
”If the good G.o.d set silver inside Sark, it was because He thought it was the best place for it, and it's not for the likes of you to be trying to get it out.”
”What's it there for if it's not to be got out?”
”You mark me, Tom Hamon, no good will come of all this upsetting and digging out the insides of the Island--nenni-gia!”
”Pergui, mother, where do you think all the silver and gold in the world came from?”
”It didn't come out of our Sark rocks any way, mon gars.”
”Good thing for us if it had, ma fe! But, see you here, mother, if I sell the farm it's not you and Nance that need trouble. If I pay out your dowers in hard cash you're both of you better off than you are now, and I'm better off too. It's only Tom could complain, and--”
”It's hard on the lad.”
”Bidemme, it's no more than he deserves for his goings-on! Maybe it'll do him good to have to work for his living.”
”And you would do that to get your bit more money to throw into those big holes?”
”Never you mind me. I'll take care of myself, and we'll see who's wisest in the end. Now, will you agree to it?”
”I'll talk it over with Nancy again,” and the big black sun-bonnet nodded with sapient significance. ”Send her to me.”
”It's from you I got my good sense,” said old Tom approvingly, and went off in search of his wife, while the clever old lady pondered deep schemes.
”Here's the way of it, Nancy,” she said, when Mrs. Hamon came in. ”He's crazy on these silver mines, and he's willing to pay out our dowers, yours and mine, so that he may throw the rest into the big holes at Port Gorey. Ch'est b'en! Your money and mine take more than half of what he gets. If you'll put yours to mine I'll make up the difference from what I've saved, and we'll retraite the farm, and it shall go to Nance and Bernel when the time comes.”
”I can't help thinking it's rather hard on Tom,” suggested Mrs. Hamon, with less vigour than before.
The idea appealed strongly to her maternal feelings and she had suffered much from Tom; still her instinct for right was there and was not to be stifled with a word.
”If you feel so when the time comes we could divide it among them, and till then Tom would have to behave himself,” said the wily old lady, with a chuckle.
That again appealed strongly to Mrs. Hamon.
”Yes, I think I would agree to that,” she said, after thinking it all over.
All things considered, Grannie's scheme was an excellent one and worthy of her.