Part 3 (1/2)
”No; but you are both gentlemen born, you see, and, therefore, ought to be in some way models for those who are not.”
”Bosh,” said the Doctor. ”All this about Hamlyn's going out hare-hunting.”
”I don't mind it once a-week,” said the Vicar, ignoring the Doctor's interruption; ”but FOUR TIMES is rather too much. And Hamlyn has been out four days this week. Twice with Wrefords, and twice with Holes. He can't deny it.”
Jim couldn't, so he laughed. ”You must catch him, sir,” he said, ”and give him a real good wigging. He'll mind you. But catch him soon, sir, or you won't get the chance. Doctor, do you know anything about New South Wales?”
”Botany Bay,” said the Vicar abstractedly, ”convict settlement in South Seas. Jerry Shaw begged the judge to hang him instead of sending him there. Judge wouldn't do it though; Jerry was too bad for that.”
”Hamlyn and I are thinking of selling up and going there,” said Jim.
”Do you know anything about it, Doctor?”
”What!” said the Doctor; ”the mysterious hidden land of the great South Sea. Tasman's land, Nuyt's land, Leuwin's land, De Witt's land, any fool's land who could sail round it, and never have the sense to land and make use of it--the new country of Australasia. The land with millions of acres of fertile soil, under a splendid climate, calling aloud for some one to come and cultivate them. The land of the Eucalypti and the Marsupials, the land of deep forests and boundless pastures, which go rolling away westward, plain beyond plain, to none knows where. Yes; I know something about it.”
The Vicar was ”knocked all of a heap” at James' announcement, and now, slightly recovering himself, said--
”You hear him. He is going to Botany Bay. He is going to sell his estate, 250 acres of the best land in Devon, and go and live among the convicts. And who is going with him? Why, Hamlyn, the wise. Oh dear me.
And what is he going for?”
That was a question apparently hard to answer. If there was a reason, Jim was either unwilling or unable to give it. Yet I think that the real cause was standing there in the window, with a look of unbounded astonishment on her pretty face.
”Going to leave us, James!” she cried, coming quickly towards him.
”Why, whatever shall I do without you?”
”Yes, Miss Mary,” said James somewhat huskily; ”I think I may say that we have settled to go. Hamlyn has got a letter from a cousin of his who went from down Plymouth way, and who is making a fortune; and besides, I have got tired of the old place somehow, lately. I have nothing to keep me here now, and there will be a change, and a new life there. In short,” said he, in despair of giving a rational reason, ”I have made up my mind.”
”Oh!” said Mary, while her eyes filled with tears, ”I shall be so sorry to lose you.”
”I too,” said James, ”shall be sorry to start away beyond seas and leave all the friends I care about save one behind me. But times are hard for the poor folks here now, and if I, as 'squire, set the example of going, I know many will follow. The old country, Mr. Thornton,” he continued, ”is getting too crowded for men to live in without a hard push, and depend on it, when poor men are afraid to marry for fear of having children which they can't support, it is time to move somewhere.
The hive is too hot, and the bees must swarm, so those that go will both better themselves, and better those they leave behind them, by giving them more room to work and succeed. It's hard to part with the old farm and the old faces now, but perhaps in a few years, one will get to like that country just as one does this, from being used to it, and then the old country will seem only like a pleasant dream after one has awoke.”
”Think twice about it, James, my boy,” said the Vicar.
”Don't be such an a.s.s as to hesitate,” said the Doctor impatiently. ”It is the genius of your restless discontented nation to go blundering about the world like buffaloes in search of fresh pasture. You have founded already two or three grand new empires, and you are now going to form another; and men like you ought to have their fingers in the pie.”
”Well, G.o.d speed you, and Hamlyn too, wherever you go. Are you going home, Mr. Hawker?”
George, who hated James from the very bottom of his heart, was not ill-pleased to hear there would be a chance of soon getting rid of him.
He had been always half jealous of him, though without the slightest cause, and to-night he was more so than ever, for Mary, since she had heard of James' intended departure, had grown very grave and silent. He stood, hat in hand, ready to depart, and as usual, when he meant mischief, spoke in his sweetest tones.
”I am afraid I must be saying good evening, Mr. Thornton. Why, James,”
he added, ”this is something quite new. So you are going to Botany without waiting to be sent there. Ha! ha! Well, I wish you every sort of good luck. My dear friend, Hamlyn, too. What a loss he'll be to our little society, so sociable and affable as he always is to us poor farmers' sons. You'll find it lonely there though. You should get a wife to take with you. Oh, yes, I should certainly get married before I went. Good night.”
All this was meant to be as irritating as possible; but as he went out at the door he had the satisfaction to hear James' clear honest laugh mingling with the Vicar's, for, as George had closed the door, the Doctor had said, looking after him--
”Gott in Himmel, that young man has go a skull like a tom-cat.”