Part 18 (1/2)

Not so Lady Ba.s.sett. She lay awake all night and thought deeply of Richard Ba.s.sett and ”his unrelenting, impenitent malice.” Women of her fine fiber, when they think long and earnestly on one thing, have often divinations. The dark future seems to be lit a moment at a time by flashes of lightning, and they discern the indistinct form of events to come, And so it was with Lady Ba.s.sett: in the stilly night a terror of the future and of Richard Ba.s.sett crept over her--a terror disproportioned to his past acts and apparent power. Perhaps she was oppressed by having an enemy--she, who was born to be loved. At all events, she was full of feminine divinations and forebodings, and saw, by flashes, many a poisoned arrow fly from that quiver and strike the beloved breast. It had already discharged one that had parted them for a time, and nearly killed Sir Charles.

Daylight cleared away much of this dark terror, but left a sober dread and a strange resolution. This timid creature, stimulated by love, determined to watch the foe, and defend her husband with all her little power. All manner of devices pa.s.sed through her head, but were rejected, because, if Love said ”Do wonders,” Timidity said ”Do nothing that you have not seen other wives do.” So she remained, scheming, and longing, and fearing, and pa.s.sive, all day. But the next day she conceived a vague idea, and, all in a heat, rang for her maid. While the maid was coming she fell to blus.h.i.+ng at her own boldness, and, just as the maid opened the door, her thermometer fell so low that--she sent her upstairs for a piece of work. Oh, lame and impotent conclusion!

Just before luncheon she chanced to look through a window, and to see the head gamekeeper crossing the park, and coming to the house. Now this was the very man she wanted to speak to. The sudden temptation surprised her out of her timidity. She rang the bell again, and sent for the man.

That Colossus wondered in his mind, and felt uneasy at an invitation so novel. However, he clattered into the morning-room, in his velveteen coat, and leathern gaiters up to his thigh, pulled his front hair, bobbed his head, and then stood firm in body as was he of Rhodes, but in mind much abashed at finding himself in her ladys.h.i.+p's presence.

The lady, however, did not prove so very terrible. ”May I inquire your name, sir?” said she, very respectfully.

”Moses Moss, my lady.”

”Mr. Moss, I wish to ask you a question or two. _May_ I?”

”That you may, my lady.”

”I want you to explain, if you will be so good, how the proprietor of 'Splatchett's' can shoot all Sir Charles's pheasants.”

”Lord! my lady, we ain't come down to that. But he do shoot more than his share, that's sure an' sartain. Well, my lady, if you please, game is just like Christians: it will make for sunny spots. Highmore has got a many of them there, with good cover; so we breeds for him. As for 'Splatchett's,' that don't hurt we, my lady; it is all arable land and dead hedges, with no bottom; only there's one little tongue of it runs into North Wood, and planted with larch; and, if you please, my lady, there is always a kind of coa.r.s.e gra.s.s grows under young larches, and makes a strong cover for game. So, beat North Wood which way you will, them artful old c.o.c.ks will run ahead of ye, or double back into them larches. And you see Mr. Ba.s.sett is not a gentleman, like Sir Charles; he is always a-mouching about, and the biggest poacher in the parish; and so he drops on to 'em out of bounds.”

”Is there no way of stopping all this, sir?”

”We might station a dozen beaters ahead. They would most likely get shot; but I don't think as they'd mind that much if you had set your heart on it, my lady. Dall'd if I would, for one.”

”Oh, Mr. Moss! Heaven forbid that any man should be shot for me. No, not for all the pheasants in the world. I'll try and think of some other way. I should like to see the place. _May_ I?”

”Yes, my lady, and welcome.”

”How shall I get to it, sir?”

”You can ride to the 'Woodman's Rest,' my lady, and it is scarce a stone's-throw from there; but 'tis baddish traveling for the likes of you.”

She appointed an hour, rode with her groom to the public-house, and thence was conducted through bush, through brier, to the place where her husband had been so annoyed.

Moss's comments became very intelligible to her the moment she saw the place. She said very little, however, and rode home.

Next day she blushed high, and asked Sir Charles for a hundred pounds to spend upon herself.

Sir Charles smiled, well pleased, and gave it her, and a kiss into the bargain.

”Ah! but,” said she, ”that is not all.”

”I am glad of it. You spend too little money on yourself--a great deal too little.”

”That is a complaint you won't have long to make. I want to cut down a few trees. _May_ I?”

”Going to build?”

”Don't ask me. It is for myself.”

”That is enough. Cut down every stick on the estate if you like. The barer it leaves us the better.”