Part 19 (1/2)
”Not read it, no, nor never shall, and may be I'll never see it acted either. But I hope it will be, Lavinia, for your sake. But take care, it's ill falling in love with a man who's fond of his cups.”
Lavinia made no reply. Her face had suddenly gone grave.
Hannah ceased to tease her and bustled about to get supper--something warm and comforting, stewed rabbit and toasted cheese to follow.
The bedroom shared by Lavinia and Hannah was in the front of the house.
About two o'clock both were awakened by the champing of a horse and the squeaking and sc.r.a.ping of wheels followed by a loud wrangling in a deep ba.s.s growl and a shrill treble.
”That's the mistress--drat her,” grumbled Hannah from under the coverlet. ”She's a-beatin' down the coachman. She always does it.”
The hubbub was ended, and not altogether to the satisfaction of the hackney coachman judging by the way he banged his door. Mrs. Fenton stumbled up the stairs to her room rating the extortion of drivers, and after a time all was silence.
Daylight was in the room when Lavinia awoke. She slipped quietly out of bed not wanting to disturb Hannah, but the latter was a light sleeper.
”Don't you get up,” said Lavinia. ”I can dress and let myself out without bothering you.”
”What, an' go into the early morning air wi'out a bite or sup inside you? I'm not brute beast enough to let you do that.”
And Hannah bounced out of bed bringing her feet down with a thump which must have awakened Mrs. Fenton in the room below had the lady been in a normal condition, which fortunately was not the case.
Within half an hour the two stole out of the house, and on reaching the Ludgate Hill end of the Old Bailey turned eastwards. Their destination was the Stocks Market occupying the site where the present Mansion House stands. The Stocks Market was the princ.i.p.al market in London at that time, Fleet Market was not in existence and Covent Garden, then mainly a fas.h.i.+onable residential quarter, was only in its infancy as to the sale of fruit and vegetables.
But the Stocks Market eastwards of St. Paul's was not in the direction of Twickenham, or Twitenham as it was then called. Why then were Lavinia and Hannah wending their way thither?
It was in this wise. Hannah was quick witted and fertile in resources.
Moreover she was a native of Mortlake, then surrounded by fruit growing market gardens and especially celebrated for its plums, the fame of which for flavour and colour and size has not quite died out in the present day. Hannah had had her sweethearting days along by the riverside and in pleasant strolls on Sheen Common, and not a few of her swains cherished tender recollections of her fascinating coquetry. She knew very well she would find some old admirer at the Stocks Market who for auld lang syne would willingly give Lavinia a seat in his covered cart returning to Mortlake with empty baskets. And Mortlake of course, is no very long distance from Twickenham.
So it came about. The clock of St. Christopher le Stocks struck five as the two young women entered the market. The Bank of England as we now know it did not then exist. St. Christopher's, hemmed in by houses, occupied the site of the future edifice, as much in appearance like a prison as a bank. Sir Thomas Gresham's Exchange then alone dominated the open s.p.a.ce at the entrance of the Poultry.
The market was in full swing. Shopkeepers, hucksters and early risen housewives keen on buying first hand and so saving pennies were bargaining at the various stalls. Hannah went about those set apart for fruit and soon spotted some one she knew--a waggoner of honest simple looks. His mouth expanded into the broadest of grins and he coloured to his ears when he caught sight of Hannah.
”Ecod Hannah, my gal, if the sight o' 'ee baint good fur sore eyes. I'm in luck sure-ly. Fi' minutes more an' 'ee'd ha' found me gone. Dang me if 'ee baint bonnier than ever.”
”Don't 'ee talk silly, Giles Topham. Keep your nonsense for Hester Roberts.”
”Hester Roberts! What be that flirty hussy to I?” retorted Giles indignantly.
”You know best about that, Giles. What be 'ee to me? That's more to the purpose I'm thinking.”
”I be a lot to 'ee Hannah. Out wi' the truth now, an' tell me if I baint.”
Lavinia was beginning to feel herself superfluous in the midst of this rustic billing and cooing, and was moving a few steps off when Hannah having whispered a few words to Giles which might have been a reproof or the reverse beckoned to her, and without further ado told her old sweetheart what she wanted.
”I'd a sight sooner take 'ee Hannah--meanin' no offence to 'ee miss--but if it can't be, why----”
”Of course it can't, you b.o.o.by. You know that as well as I do.”
”Aye. Some other time may be,” rejoined Giles grinning afresh. ”So 'ee be a-goin' to see the great Mr. Pope? 'Ee'll have to cross by the ferry and 'tis a bit of a walk there from Mortlake but I'll see 'ee safe.”
”I should think you would or I'll never speak to you again.”