Part 20 (1/2)
”You'd have had me say nowt, neither, yon day we was wed,--give her a kiss, happen, and praise her gown----?”
”Nay, then, I wouldn't, I tell you! Blast you! Nowt o' the sort!”
Simon was fairly shouting now. He thumped at the table in his rage. ”I wish to Gox I could ha' gitten my hands round her throat wi'out having to swing!”
Sarah looked at his prancing shape with the same ironic smile.
”Nay, my lad, there's better ways than that wi' Eliza, by a deal. D'ye think I haven't gitten a bit o' my own back, now and then? I've had my knife in her deep,--ay, deep!--time and again. There's better ways wi'
Eliza than just twisting her neck. What, this very day I've made her weep tears as she's never wept afore,--tears as near tears o' blood as Eliza'll ever weep....” She stopped, recalling the scene in which Nature had shone like a star in Eliza just for once.... ”Nay, Simon,”
she went on quietly, ”there's no sense in our getting mad. It's over late to go preaching love atween Eliza and me. Men don't know what hate can be between women when it's gitten hold. It's a thing best let alone,--never mentioned,--let alone. It's a big thing, caged-like, as was small once, and then comes full-grown. It's over late to go trying to stroke it through the bars.”
”I n.o.bbut wanted to make the best o' things,” Simon muttered, ashamed.
”The Lord knows I'd give my hand to put you top-dog of Eliza just for once. But I'm not denying I'm terble thankful to ha' fixed things up.
I reckon I'll sleep to-night as I haven't for weeks. I'm right sorry, though, if you're taking it hard.”
”I'll take it right enough when it's here,” Sarah said gently, turning away. ”I won't make no bother about it, don't you fret.”
She picked up the kettle and set it on the fire, as if she meant to put an end to the talk. Simon lingered, however, casting uneasy glances at her face.
”I've a job in t'far shuppon to see to,” he said at last, and lighted the old lantern that swung against the wall.... ”Yon's tide, surely?”
he added suddenly, as he took it down.... ”Nay, it's over soon.”
He lifted the lantern to look at the table above the shelf, but Sarah shook her head.
”Yon's an old table, think on. It's no use looking there. Tide's six o'clock, it you want to know.”
He said, ”Oh, ay. I'd clean forgot,” and still stood on the hearth, as if reluctant to go. Presently he spoke humbly, twisting the lantern in his hand.
”It's real hard on you, Sarah, to come down like this. I don't know as I like it myself, but it's worse for you. But we've been right kind wi'
each other all these years. You'll not think shame on me when I'm a hired man?”
She turned back to him, then, trying to see his face, and it seemed to him that she really saw him for the first time in many months. But, in point of fact, it was the eyes of the mind that were looking at the eyes of the mind.... And then, unexpectedly, he saw her smile.
”Nay, my lad,” she said strongly, ”you mun be wrong in t'garrets to think that! If there's owt to think shame on it'll be stuff like yon.
You're the same lad to me as when we was wed, just as Eliza's the same cruel, jibing la.s.s. I reckon that's where the trouble lies, if it come to that. Love and hate don't change, neither on 'em, all our lives.
D'you think I'd ha' kept my hate so warm if I hadn't ha' kept love?”
He nodded doubtfully in reply, and began slowly to edge away. But before he had reached the threshold he paused again.
”Anyway, we've had the best on't!” he cried triumphantly, as if inspired. ”Eliza's had what looks most, but we've had the real things, you and me!” And then, as she did not speak, the spirit died in him, and his head drooped. ”Ay, well, we mun do what we can,” he finished lamely. ”We mun do what we can. 'Tisn't as if it'll be so long for either on us, after all.”
”Shall I see to t'milk for you?” he added diffidently, but was refused.
”Nay,” Sarah said. ”I can manage right well. I know they milk-pans better than my face. I'd like to stick to my job as long as I can.”
Simon said--”Ay, well, then, I'll be off!” and looked at the door; and stared at the door, and said--”Ay, well, I'll be off!” again. He had an uneasy feeling that he ought to stay, but there was that job in the far s.h.i.+ppon he wanted to do. He wandered uncertainly towards the outer door, and then, almost as if the door had pushed him, stumbled into the yard.