Part 14 (1/2)
”That's of it. The old woman has pluck enough for a hunderd. But, as I tell her, she may get the billet now, after all, since the old fellow's gone, and Mr. Sam--they do say--favours the Dissenters.”
”I don't understand. 'Gone'? Who is gone?”
”Why, old Rosewarne. Who else?”
”You are not telling me that Mr. Rosewarne is dead?”
”Beggin' your pardon, miss--but he's dead, and buried last Sat.u.r.day.
There! I han't upset you, have I? I took it for certain that everyone knew. And you seeming an acquaintance of his, and being, so to speak, in black.”--
”But I heard from him only last Thursday--less than a week ago!”
Hester's hand went to her pocket. To be sure she possessed, with Rosewarne's letter, a second from a Mr. Peter Benny, acknowledging her acceptance of the post, and promising that she should be met on her arrival, on the day and hour suggested by her. But Mr. Benny's letter had been cautiously worded, and said nothing of his master's death.
The young sailor had come to a halt with her, evidently puzzled, and for the fourth time at least was holding out a hand to relieve her of her bag.
”No!” she said. ”You must walk on, please; I am the new schoolmistress.”
It took him aback, but not in the way she had expected. His face became grave at once, but still wore its puzzled look, into which by degrees there crept another look of pity.
”You can't know what you'm doing then, miss; I'm sure of that.
They haven't told you. She's a very old woman, and 'tis all the bread she has.”
He stared at her, seeking rea.s.surance.
”You are certainly right, so far: I have tumbled, it seems, into mysteries. But for aught I know, I _am_ the new schoolmistress, and we are enemies, it seems. Now will you walk ahead, or shall I?”
Still he paused, considering her face.
”But if you knew what a shame it is!” he stammered. ”And you look good, too!”
With a movement of the hand she begged him to leave her and walk ahead.
But as she did so she caught sound of hoofs and wheels on the road above.
They drew apart to let the vehicle pa.s.s, she to one side of the road, the young sailor to the other. A light spring-cart came lurching round the corner; and its driver, glancing from one to the other, drew rein sharply, dragging the rough-coated cob back with a slither on the splashboard, and bringing him to a stand between them.
CHAPTER IX.
MR. SAMUEL'S POLICY.
Hester's letter accepting the teachers.h.i.+p had put Mr. Sam in something of a quandary. It came addressed, of course, to his father, and as his father's heir and executor he had opened it.
”'Hester Marvin'?” He read the signature and pondered, pulling his ragged whisker. ”So that was the name on the letter you posted?” (No question had been asked about it at the inquest.)
”That was the name, sir,” said Mr. Benny.
”Who is she? How did my father come to select her?”
Mr. Benny had not a notion.