Part 27 (1/2)

”She'll have to shut up shop next week,” said Mr. Sam, following Hester's gaze. ”I declare, Miss Marvin, one would think the old woman had ill-wished you, by the way you are staring after her. Don't believe in witchcraft, I hope?”

”I have never seen her till now, and I do feel sorry for her.”

”She's not fit to teach, and never was.”

”She's setting me a lesson in punctuality, at any rate,” said Hester, forcing a little laugh, glad of an excuse to end the conversation.

But along the road and at intervals during the first and second lesson-hours the face of Mrs. Butson haunted her.

In the hour before dinner, while she sat among the little ones correcting their copy-books, the door-latch clicked, and she looked up with a start-- to see the woman herself standing upon the threshold! Archelaus Libby, who had been chalking on the blackboard at lightning speed a line of figures for his mental arithmetic cla.s.s, turned to announce them, and paused with a click in his throat which seemed to answer that of the latch. In the sudden hush Hester felt her cheek paling. Somehow she missed the courage with which she had met Tom Trevarthen.

”Good-morning!” said Mrs. Butson harshly. ”'Tisn't forbidden to come in, I hope?”

”Good-morning,” Hester found voice to answer. ”You may come in, and welcome, if you wish us well.”

”I'm Sarah Butson. As for wis.h.i.+ng well or ill to 'ee, we'll leave that alone. I've come to listen, not to interrup'.” She advanced into the room and pointed a finger at Archelaus Libby. ”Is that your male teacher?

He bain't much to look at, but I'm told he's terrible for sums.”

”You shall judge for yourself. Go on with your lesson, Archelaus; and you, Mrs. Butson, take a seat if you will.”

”No; I'll stand.” Mrs. Butson shut her jaws firmly and treated the small scholars around her to a fierce, unwavering stare. Many winced, remembering her mercies of old. ”Go on, young man,” she commanded Archelaus.

He plunged into figures again, nervously at first. Soon he recovered his volubility, and, calling on one of the elder boys to name two rows of figures for division, wrote them out and dashed down the quotient; then flung in the working at top speed, showing how the quotient was obtained; next rubbed out all but the original divisor and dividend, and, swinging round upon the boys, raced them through the sum, his throat clicking as he appealed from one boy to another, urging them to answer faster and faster yet. ”Yes, yes--but try to multiply in double figures--twice sixteen, thirty-two: it's no harder than four times eight--the tables don't really stop at twelve times. Now then--seventy-eight into three-twenty-six?

You--you--you--what's that, Sunny Pascoe? Four times? Right--how many over? Fourteen. Now then, bring down the next figure, and that makes the new dividend.”

Mrs. Butson pa.s.sed her hand over Hester's desk. ”You keep 'em well dusted,” she observed, turning her back upon Archelaus and his calculations. Her angry-looking eyes travelled over desks, floor, walls, and the maps upon the walls, then back to the children.

”How many?” she asked.

”We have sixty-eight on the books.”

”How many here to-day?”

”Sixty-six. There are two absent, with certificates. Would you like me to call the roll?”

”No. You've got 'em in hand, too, I see.” She picked up a copy-book from the desk before her, examined it for a moment, and laid it down.

”You like this work?” she asked, turning her eyes suddenly upon Hester.

”How else could one do it at all?”

”I hate it--yes, hate it,” the old woman went on. ”Though 'twas my living, I've hated it always. Yet I taught 'em well--you cross the ferry and ask schoolmaster Penrose if I did not. I taught 'em well; but you beat me--fair and square you do. Only there'll come a time--I warn you-- when the hope and pride'll die out of you, and you'll wake an' wonder how to live out the day. I don't know much, but I know that time must come to all teachers. They never can tell when 'tis coming. After some holiday, belike, it catches 'em sudden. The new lot of children be no worse than the last, but they get treated worse because the teacher's come to end of tether. You take my advice and marry before that time comes.”

”I don't think I shall ever marry.”

”Oh yes, you will!” Aunt Butson's eyes seemed to burn into Hester's.

”You're driving me out to work in the fields; but, marry or not, you'll give me all the revenge I look for.” The old woman hunched her shoulders and made abruptly for the door. As it slammed behind her a weight seemed to fall upon Hester's heart and a sudden shadow across her day.

Down in the little cottage Aunt Butson found Mrs. Trevarthen standing beside a half-filled packing-case and contemplating a pair of enormous china spaniels which adorned the chimney-piece, one on either side of Chinese junk crusted with sea-sh.e.l.ls.

”What's to be done with 'em?” Mrs. Trevarthen asked. ”They'll take up more room than they're worth, and I doubt they'll fetch next to nothing if I leave 'em behind for the sale. My old man got 'em off a pedlar fellow for two-and-threepence apiece, back-along when we first set up house.

A terrible extravagance, as I told 'en at the time; but he took such a fancy to the things, I never had the heart to say what I thought about their looks.”

”You can leave 'em bide,” answered Aunt Butson. ”Unpack that there case agen an' turn it over to me. I'm goin' to quit.”