Part 13 (1/2)
Antony touched his forehead in the most approved style.
”I thank you, sor,” he responded.
Doctor Hilary smiled. ”Well, good luck to you. It will be better--of course, from now onward, we must remember that you are Michael Field, under-gardener at the Hall.”
”'Tis a good name,” said Antony solemnly. ”Sure, I'm downright obliged to me G.o.dfathers and G.o.dmothers for giving me such a one.”
Again Doctor Hilary smiled. ”Oh, and by the way,” he said, ”how about money.”
Antony felt in his pockets. He produced two florins, a sixpence, and a halfpenny. He looked at them lying in the palm of his hand. Then he looked whimsically at the Doctor.
”I don't know whether the possession of these coins breaks the spirit of the contract. I'm thinking 'twill hardly break the letter. 'Tis all I have.”
The Doctor laughed.
”I fancy not,” he replied. ”I'd better give you your first week's wage in advance. You'll need to lay in provisions. There's a general store in Byestry. Perhaps you'll want to do a little in the purchasing line.
Remember, to-morrow is Sunday.”
He laid a sovereign on the table, and a moment later the garden gate clicked to behind him.
Antony went back into the little parlour.
CHAPTER XIII
A DISCOVERY
The morning broke as fair, as blue-skied, as sunny, as the previous day had been gloomy, grey-skied, and wet.
The song of a golden-throated lark was the first sound that Antony heard, as he woke to find the early morning suns.h.i.+ne pouring through the open cas.e.m.e.nt window. He lay very still, listening to the flood of liquid notes, and looking at the square of blue sky, seen through the window.
Now and again an ivy leaf tapped gently at the pane, stirred by a little breeze blowing from the sea, and sweeping softly across b.u.t.tercupped meadow and gorse-grown moorland. Once a flight of rooks pa.s.sed across the square blue patch, and once a pigeon lighted for an instant on the windowsill, to fly off again on swift, strong wings.
He lay there, drowsily content. For that day at least, there was a pleasant idleness ahead of him, nothing but his own wants to attend to.
The morrow would see him armed with spade and rake, probably wrestling with weeds, digging deep in the good brown earth, possibly mowing the gra.s.s, and such like jobs as fall to the lot of an under-gardener. Antony smiled to himself. Well, it would all come in the day's work, and the day's work would be no novel master to him. The open air, whether under cloud or suns.h.i.+ne, was good. After all, his lot for the year would not be such a bad one. He was in the mood to echo the praises of that brown-feathered morsel pouring forth its lauds somewhere aloft in the blue. Suddenly the song ceased. The bird had come to earth.
For a moment or so longer Antony lay very still, listening to the silence. Then he flung back the bed-clothes, went to the window, and looked out.
He looked across the tiny garden, and the lane, to a wild-rose hedge; fragile pink blossoms swayed gently in the breeze. Beyond the hedge was a field of close-cropped gra.s.s, dotted here and there with sheep. To the left a turn in the lane, and the high banks and hedges, shut further view from sight. To the right, and far below the cottage, across meadows and the hidden village of Byestry, lay the sea.
It lay blue and sparkling, flecked with a myriad moving specks of gold, as the suns.h.i.+ne fell on the dancing water. He had seen it at close quarters last night, from the little quay, seen it smooth and grey, its breast heaving now and then as if in gentle sleep. To-day it was awake, alive, and buoyant. He must get down to it again. It was inviting him, smiling, dimpling, alluring.
He made a quick but exceedingly careful toilet. Antony was fastidious to a degree in the matter of cleanliness. Earth dirt he had no objection to; slovenly dirt was as abhorrent to him as vice.
Josephus, who had slept in the parlour, accorded him a hearty welcome on his descent of the narrow steep little stairs, intimating that he was every whit as ready to be up and doing as was his master. The suns.h.i.+ne, the blithesomeness of the morning was infectious. You felt yourself smiling in accord with its smiles.
Antony flung wide the cottage door. A scent of rosemary, southernwood, and verbena was wafted to him from the little garden,--clean, old-fas.h.i.+oned scents, English in their very essence. Anon he had more commonplace scents mingling with them,--the appetizing smell of fried sausages, the aromatic odour of freshly made coffee. Josephus found himself in two minds as to the respective merits of the attractions without, and the alluring odours within. Finally, after one scamper round the garden, he compromised by seating himself on the doorstep, for the most part facing the suns.h.i.+ne, but now and again turning a wet black nose in the direction of the breakfast table and frying-pan.
An hour or so later he was giving himself wholeheartedly to the gra.s.sy and rabbitty scents dear to a doggy soul, as he scampered in the direction of Byestry with his master. Occasionally he made side tracks into hedges and down rabbit holes, whence at a whistle from Antony, he would emerge innocent in expression, but utterly condemned by traces of red earth on his black nose and white back.