Part 23 (1/2)

Several gentlemen now came running up. They thanked Frank for his timely help, and asked him if he would not come and join their party.

There was a heartiness and cheeriness of manner about them which made it impossible for him to say, ”No,” so he a.s.sented, and followed them to an open s.p.a.ce a short way off the road, round the next turn, where a very merry company were gathered among the trees, with the scarlet- embroidered sward for their table.

”Pray, take a seat among us,” said one of the gentlemen who had invited him. ”I'll secure your horse--is he tolerably quiet?”

”Perfectly so; but you'd better take his saddle off, lest he should be inclined to indulge in a roll.”

”I am sure, sir, I owe you many thanks,” said the young lady whose horse he had caught; ”for, if you had not stopped my mare, she would have been half-way to Adelaide by this time, and one of us must have walked.”

Frank made a suitable reply, and was at once quite at ease with his new companions. There were four gentlemen and as many ladies, the latter in the prime of life, and full of spirits, which the stranger's presence did not check. No spot could be more lovely than the one chosen for their open-air meal. Before them was the deep, sloping chasm, revealing the distant town and ocean, and clothed on either side with unbroken forests. All around was the brilliant carpeting of flowers; overhead, the intensely blue sky, latticed here and there with the interlacing boughs of trees. The dinner or luncheon was spread out on a white cloth, and consisted of the usual abundance of fowls, pies, and tarts, proper to such occasions, and flanked by what was evidently considered no secondary part of the refreshments--a compact regiment of pale ale, porter, wine, and spirit-bottles. Under ordinary circ.u.mstances such a sight would have been very inviting; but it was doubly so to Frank, after his long and hot ride. All were disposed to treat him, as the stranger, with pressing hospitality; but his own free and gentlemanly bearing, and the openness with which he answered the questions put to him, as well as the hearty geniality of his conversation, made all his new acquaintances delighted with him, and eager to supply his wants as their guest. It is not, therefore, much to be wondered at that any half-formed resolutions as to total abstinence which he might have vaguely entertained soon melted away before the cordial entreaties of the gentlemen that he would not spare the ale, wine, or spirits.

”You'll have found riding in such a sun thirsty work, I'm sure, sir,”

said a stout, jolly-looking man, who was evidently one of the leaders of the party. Frank made just a feeble answer about not drinking, and a pretence of holding back his gla.s.s, and then allowed himself to be helped first to one tumbler, then another, and then another, of foaming Ba.s.s. He was soon past all qualms, regrets, or misgivings.

”Capital stuff this,” he said; ”do you know where I can get some?”

”Most proud to serve you, my dear sir,” said the stout gentleman. ”I have a large stock on hand; anything in the way of ale, porter, wine, or spirits, I flatter myself no one in Adelaide is better able to supply; perhaps you'll kindly favour me with an order!”

”Certainly,” said Frank, and gave his address, and an order for ale, wine, and spirits to be sent over to his cottage the following day. And now, from his long previous abstinence, what he had already drunk had begun to tell upon him. He felt it, and rose to go, but his entertainers would not hear of his leaving them; for, under the excitement of the strong drink, he had been pouring forth anecdotes, and making himself in other ways so entertaining and agreeable, that his new friends were most anxious to detain him. So wine and brandy were added to his previous potations; and when at last, with a.s.sistance, he mounted his horse, it was with the greatest difficulty he could retain his seat in the saddle. And thus the whole party, singing, shouting, laughing, descended along the winding track, making G.o.d's beautiful creation hideous by the jarring of their brutal mirth; for surely that mirth is brutal which springs, not from a heart filled with innocent rejoicing, but from lips that sputter out the frenzies of a brain on fire with the stimulants of alcohol. How Frank Oldfield got home he could not tell.

His horse knew his road, and followed it; for, dumb brute as he was, his senses were not clouded by the unnatural stimulant which had stolen away the intellects of his _rational_ master.

Darkness had settled down when horse and rider reached the slip-rail at the entrance of the field before Frank's house. Jacob was there, for he had heard his master's voice some ten minutes earlier singing s.n.a.t.c.hes of songs in a wild exaggerated manner. Poor Jacob, he could hardly believe his ears, as he listened to ”Rule Britannia” shouted out by those lips which, he had imagined, never allowed strong drink to pa.s.s them.

”Is that you, Jacob, my boy?” cried Frank thickly.

”Yes, sir,” said Jacob sorrowfully.

”Let down--shlip-rail--th-there's--good lad,” added his master.

”It's down,” replied the other shortly.

”Tchick--tchick, Roderick,” cried Frank, almost tumbling over his horse's head. At last they reached the house door. Mrs Watson came out, candle in hand.

”How are you, Mrs Watson?” hiccupped her master. ”Lend us a light--all right; that's poetry, and no mistake--ha, ha, ha! capital, Jacob, my boy, ain't it?” and he tumbled over one side of his horse, only saving himself from falling to the ground by catching hold of one of the posts of the verandah. But we need not follow him further. He slept the heavy drunkard's sleep that night, and rose the next morning feverish, sick, thirsty, degraded, humbled, miserable. Poor Jacob's face would have been a picture, could it have been taken as he looked upon his master staggering into the house by the light of Mrs Watson's candle--a very picture it would have been of mingled astonishment, perplexity, distress, disgust.

”Well,” he said to himself moodily, ”I thought the old lad had his hands full in the old country, but it's like he's not content with that; I'd as soon have thought of the Queen of England taking pick and Davy-lamp and going down to work in the pit, as of my young mayster coming home beastly drunk. My word, it's awful; 'tis for sure.”

When master and servant met next day each avoided the other's eye.

Frank spoke moodily, and Jacob answered surlily. But it was not in Frank's nature to continue long in constraint of manner with any one, so, calling to his servant in a cheery voice,--

”Here, Jacob,” he cried, ”I want you in the garden.” Jacob ran to him briskly, for there was a charm in his young master's manner which he could not resist.

”Jacob,” said Frank Oldfield, ”you saw me last night as I trust you will never see me again, overcome with drink.”

”Ay, mayster,” said the other, ”I see'd you sure enough, and I'd sooner have see'd a yard full of lions and tigers nor such a sight as that.”

”Well, Jacob, it was the first, and I trust the last time too; it was wrong, very wrong. I'm thoroughly ashamed that you should have seen me in such a plight. I was betrayed into it. I ought to have been more on my guard; you mustn't think any more of it; I'll take care it doesn't happen again.”

”Ah, mayster,” said the other, ”I shall be rare and glad if it doesn't.

I hope you'll keep gradely teetottal, for the drink's a cheating and lying thing.”