The Solitary Farm Read online

  CHAPTER IX

  THE COMING OF DURGO

  The fortnight which followed the funeral of Captain Huxham passedquietly enough at the Solitary Farm. Mrs. Coppersley went several timesto London for the purpose of interviewing her late brother's lawyer, whohad his office in Cade Lane. She said very little to Bella when shereturned, and on her part Bella did not ask questions. Had she been moreversed in worldly wisdom she would have accompanied her aunt to see thesolicitor for herself, so that she might learn what disposition had beenmade of the property. But Bella was an unsophisticated girl, andmoreover was so anxiously lamenting the continued absence of Cyril thatshe neglected needful things.

  Lister had disappeared from the neighbourhood, and Bella had neitherseen him again nor had she heard from him. Considering what had takenplace at their last interview, she was inclined to think that Cyril hadpassed out of her life for ever. But something told her that in spite ofher unjust accusations he still loved her, and would return. Meantime,there was nothing for it but to wait in patience, and to busy herselfwith her ordinary pursuits. These, however, had lost their savour forthe girl, since the whole of her mind was filled with the image of theman she loved.

  Pence did not fulfil his threat of informing the police at the end ofthree days. Bella waited in dread for the arrival of Inspector Inglis toask her questions concerning Lister, but the officer never appeared, andas the days glided by she began to think that Silas would say nothing.With her aunt she went on Sunday to the Little Bethel, and heard himpreach, but he did not seek a private interview with her. Even when hedelivered his sermons he sedulously avoided her eye, so she deemed thathe was ashamed of the wild way in which he had talked. What struck hermost about the young man was his wan looks. He seemed to be thinner thanever, and his cheeks had a more hectic flush, while his eyes glitteredfeverishly, as though he were consumed with an inward fire. But hisdiscourses became more and more powerful and were greatly admired by hiscongregation, who liked melodramatic religion. Mrs. Coppersley wasespecially loud in her expression of approval.

  "What a gift," she said to Bella, when they returned home on the secondSunday through the rapidly-yellowing corn-fields. "He spares no one."

  "And that is just what I like least about his sermons," retorted thegirl. "As a Christian he should be more merciful."

  "You don't know anything about it," said Mrs. Coppersley tartly.

  "I know what Christ preached," replied Bella quietly; "and Mr. Pence hasnot the spirit of His preaching."

  "In what way, pray?"

  "Mr. Pence does not do as he would be done by. I wonder how he wouldlike to suffer the condemnation which he measures out so freely to otherpeople."

  "Silas Pence is a good man, and no condemnation is possible where he isconcerned," cried Mrs. Coppersley fervently, and bounced into the house.

  "In that case he should make allowance for those who are not good."

  "Not at all," said the elder woman, stating her views uncompromisingly."The good shall go to heaven, and the wicked to hell: that's Scripture."

  "As translated by man," finished Bella neatly; "but the Sermon on theMount, Aunt Rosamund----"

  "Bella, you are irreligious," interrupted the lady, removing her hat andplacing it on the kitchen-table. "I won't have freethinkers in myhouse."

  Bella raised her finely-marked eye-brows. "Your house?"

  "Yes," almost shouted Mrs. Coppersley violently, for she felt somewhatnervous as to what she was about to say, "my house. I didn't tell youbefore, as I have a kind heart, but it is time we understood oneanother. To-night I shall explain myself, so that you may understandyour position."

  "You shall explain yourself now," said Bella, pale but determined.

  "I have no time," said her aunt brusquely; "Henry is coming to dinner."

  "I don't care if Mr. Vand is coming to dinner twenty times over," saidBella, her eyes growing hard with anger. "You have said so much that youmust say all, Aunt Rosamund."

  "Don't bully and bounce me, miss."

  "I shall act exactly as I please, and it is my pleasure that you wouldexplain what you mean."

  "I have to lay the cloth and see to the dinner. You know that Jane nevercan cook to Henry's liking. I daresay the meat is burnt and the----"Mrs. Coppersley was about to pass into the scullery where the one smallservant, over whom she tyrannised, slaved at the mid-day meal, whenBella caught her by the wrist. "How dare you, Bella?" cried the stoutwoman.

  "Come into the drawing-room, out of Jane's hearing," whispered Bellafiercely. "I shall not wait another minute for an explanation. Thishouse is either mine or yours."

  "Very well," cried Mrs. Coppersley, bouncing towards the kitchen door,"If you will have it, you shall have it. I have tried to spare you,but----"

  "Go on to the drawing-room, please," interrupted Bella imperiously, asshe saw the small servant peeping round the corner; "there is no needfor us to discuss private matters in public."

  "The whole parish shall soon know what I am about to say," snapped Mrs.Coppersley, and rolled towards the drawing-room.

  "Rolled" is precisely the word to use in connection with Mrs.Coppersley's way of walking, for she was an extremely stout, well-fedwoman, large-limbed and clumsy. Her round, chubby face was rosy and hereyes were as black as her hair. She did not look uncomely, but there wassomething coarse and plebeian in her appearance. Although she was inmourning for her late brother she could not altogether restrain herflamboyant taste, and therefore wore a red feather in the hat she hadleft in the kitchen, and yellow gloves, which she was now impatientlyremoving.

  Outside it was extremely warm and brilliant with sunshine, but in thevast drawing-room the air was pleasantly cool and agreeable. The blindsbeing blue, only a faint light came through them since they were down,and the cerulean atmosphere was almost religious in its feeling. Bella,ever sensitive to the unseen, in spite of her ignorance of psychicphenomenon felt the grave influence, but her aunt, being of a coarserfibre, bounced red-faced and hot into the room, openly cross at havingbeen summoned to what was likely to prove a disagreeable interview.

  "Henry will be here shortly," she said pettishly, "and he doesn't liketo be kept waiting for his meals."

  "On this occasion he must wait," said Bella dryly, "it will do himgood."

  "Don't speak of Henry in that tone, miss; you know he is the mostamiable man in the world."

  "Your speech about his impatience for dinner sounds like it. However, weneed converse only for a few minutes. I understood you to say that thishouse is yours, Aunt Rosamund."

  Mrs. Coppersley flopped down into one of the emerald arm-chairs andplaced her pudgy hands on her stout knees. "It is," she said, glancinground the vari-coloured room with great pride. "The house is mine andthe farm is mine, and Jabez's income of five hundred a year, wellinvested, is mine."

  Bella grew pale. Mrs. Coppersley spoke with such conviction that shebelieved her to be telling the truth. "And what is left to me?" shedemanded in a low tone, for the shock took away her breath.

  "Your aunt's love," said Mrs. Coppersley, in a matter-of-fact way."Jabez asked me to look after you; and so long as you behave yourself Ishall do so."

  Bella passed over this petty speech. "Do you mean to say that my fatherhas left everything to you?" she asked pointedly.

  "Everything," assented Mrs. Coppersley, with an air of triumph. "Jabezwasn't so rich as folk thought him, and although he had enough investedto give him five hundred a year, he had little ready cash. When my latehusband died he left me a good sum. Jabez borrowed this and added it tohis own, so that he might buy Bleacres. I agreed, but only on conditionthat Jabez should leave me the whole property when he died. I saw thatthe will was made, and Mr. Timson, the Cade Lane lawyer, is now provingit. When probate is obtained, my dear," ended Mrs. Coppersley amiably,"I shall marry Henry and will be happy for evermore."

  "What about me?" gasped Bella, utterly overwhelmed.

  "You can stay here until you marry," said Mrs. Coppersley coldly, "as
Iam a Christian woman, and wish to obey Jabez's request. He left you tome as a legacy, so I will look after you; only behave yourself."

  "Do I ever do anything else?" asked Bella bitterly.

  "Oh, dear me, yes," returned her aunt complacently. "You run after men."

  Bella rose with a flushed cheek. "That is a lie."

  Mrs. Coppersley rose, also in a violent rage and quite glad to vent herpetty spite on one who could not retaliate. "Oh, I'm a liar, am I?" shesaid shrilly. "You call me a liar when I am only keeping you out ofcharity----"

  "Stop!" Bella flung up her hand and spoke firmly. "You are not doingthat, Aunt Rosamund. In one way or another you have persuaded my fatherinto leaving you what is rightfully mine. But I shall see Mr. Timson,and read the will; you shall not have it your own way altogether."

  Mrs. Coppersley snapped her large finger and thumb. "Go and see thewill, by all means," she scoffed in a coarse voice; "you won't find anyflaw in it, as I was careful that it should be properly drawn up. I havea perfect right to the farm, as my money helped to buy it."

  "So be it. Keep the farm, but give me the income. That, at least, youhave no right to retain."

  "I have the right of possession, which is nine points of the law, miss,"said Mrs. Coppersley violently, "and the will is plain enough. Jabez didright to leave the money to me, and not to a chit of a girl like you,who would waste your father's hard-earned money on that wastrel fromLondon."

  "Of whom are you talking?"

  "Don't pretend ignorance, miss, for I won't have it. I mean Mr. Lister,as he calls himself, though I daresay he is no better than he shouldbe."

  "You have no right to say that."

  "I'll say what I like and do what I like. Remember I am mistress; and asyou depend entirely on me, miss, I order you to give up all idea of thisLister scamp and marry Silas Pence, who is----"

  "I shall certainly not marry Silas Pence, or anyone but Cyril," saidBella in icy tones. "You have no right to interfere in----"

  Mrs. Coppersley stamped and interrupted in her turn. "No right! noright!" she bellowed furiously. "I have every right. This house is mine,and the food you eat is mine. If I turned you out you would have tostarve, for I am certain that your fine lover would have nothing to dowith you. He's a bad man; your father said so."

  "My father knew nothing of Mr. Lister."

  "He knew that he was bad; he said as much. Why"--Mrs. Coppersleypointed a fat finger towards the round table in the centre of theroom--"there's a photograph of him, and in a silver frame, too. Whatextravagance. How dare you spend my money on silver frames?"

  She dashed forward to seize the photograph of Cyril, which Bella hadbrought down from her bedroom and had left unthinkingly on the table.Doubtless Mrs. Coppersley would have destroyed the portrait, but thatBella secured it before the good lady could reach the table. "Mr. Listergave me this," said Bella, putting it behind her back; "frame and all;it is mine."

  "And you dare to bring into the house the picture of a wicked profligatewhom your father hated," roared Mrs. Coppersley, her red face shiningwith perspiration and her little eyes flashing with wrath.

  "My father being so good himself," said Bella ironically, and feelingquite cool. "Mr. Lister is not a profligate, Aunt Rosamund, and you area bad woman!"

  Mrs. Coppersley gasped like a dying dolphin. "Me a bad woman!" shecried, puffing out her cheeks ludicrously; "me, when Henry says that Iam the best woman in the world. And I'd have you know, Bella, that I'm alady and no woman, miss--so there."

  The girl, in spite of her grief and dismay, laughed right out. "Even alady must be a woman," she observed sarcastically.

  "Leave my house! leave my house," panted Mrs. Coppersley.

  "No. I shall remain here until I know if the will is correct. I shallstay here, as I say, and shall receive polite treatment. If I do not, Ishall dispute the will, and make things unpleasant."

  Mrs. Coppersley snapped her fingers. "That for all the harm you can do,"she said coarsely. "The will stands good in law. I have made sure ofthat by consulting Mr. Timson, who drew it up. You can stay here for aweek; at the end of that time you pack up and go."

  "Where to, Aunt Rosamund?"

  "That's your look out, miss. But you don't stay here to spoil myhoneymoon with my darling Henry."

  Bella shrugged her shoulders. It really was not worth while losing hertemper with a person whose methods were so crude. The more enraged Mrs.Coppersley became, the cooler Bella felt. "Do you know what you are,Aunt Rosamund?" she remarked coolly. "You are a bully, and a pettytyrant. While my father was alive you cringed to him because you wereafraid. Now that you think you have the whip hand of me, you vent yourspite on one whom you think cannot retaliate. If I had the money, youwould cringe to me; as you have it, you take every advantage of yourposition. But it won't do, Aunt Rosamund, for I am not the girl tosubmit to your insults. I shall stop here so long as it pleases me tostop, and if you make yourself disagreeable I shall know what to do."

  Mrs. Coppersley's face grew slowly white, and her mouth opened and shutlike a cod-fish. Had Bella wept, she would have gone on bullyingtriumphantly, but this cool, calm, scornful demeanour frightened her. Atheart, like all bullies, she was a coward, and knew well that if it wereknown how she had ousted Bella from her rightful inheritance, that shewould be unpopular. As Mrs. Coppersley liked to be popular, and hoped,by means of her marriage with Vand, her wrongfully obtained income, andher possession of Bleacres, to be the great lady of the neighbourhood,she did not wish to drive Bella to extremes. She therefore wiped herface, and hedged.

  "You mustn't be angry with me Bella," she said in quieter tones, "I wishyou well, my girl."

  "You wish me just as much as suits yourself," retorted Bella coolly; "sofar you have had everything your own way. Now I mean to look into thingsfor myself. You can go now, and entertain your darling Henry. I shallnot come to dinner. Send up Jane with some food to my bedroom."

  "I shall do nothing of the sort," protested Mrs. Coppersley feebly, forher late rage had exhausted her, and she did not feel equal to fightingthis pale, steady-eyed girl.

  "I have told you what to do; so go and do it!" said Bella, withoutraising her voice, and looked Mrs. Coppersley squarely in the eyes.

  The mistress of Bleacres tried to face down the gaze, but failed, andthoroughly cowed and beaten, in spite of her better position, she slowlyretreated, muttering to herself a vengeance which she was unable tofulfil.

  Left alone, Bella gave way. Pride had kept her up during the quarrelwith her aunt, but now, secure from observation, she broke down andwept. Never before had she felt so lonely or so helpless. Cyril wasaway, and she could not confide in him, for even if he had been presentthe terms on which they had parted forbade confidences. There was DoraAnkers, the school-mistress certainly--a good friend, but a bad adviser,as she knew very little of the world. And there was no one else whocould help her in the dilemma in which she was placed. She had no home,no friends, and--on the face of it--no lover. It was a terrible positionfor a girl who hitherto had never met with serious trouble.

  In spite of the drawn-down blinds and the cool atmosphere of the room,Bella could scarcely breathe, so she moved to a side window, drew up theblind, and lifted the lower sash. Outside, the brilliance of thesunshine was almost blinding, and through the quivering heads, acrossthe still, stiff stalks of the corn, for there was no wind, she couldsee the gaudy red of the scarecrow coat. The mere glint of the violenthue made her head ache, and she returned to the middle of the room towalk up and down wearily thinking of what was best to be done in thecircumstances in which she found herself. The photograph of Cyril in itssilver frame she replaced on the table. The much-loved face smiledencouragingly on her. At least, in her over-wrought state she thoughtso, and the thought aided her to beat down the many fears which assailedher.

  While musingly walking the room, she became aware of a slight noise, andturned abruptly towards the window to see a black face grinning at her,with very white teeth. At once her
thoughts reverted to the prophecy ofGranny Tunks, and she felt a sudden thrill of dread as she saw that ablack man actually had come to the Manor-house. For one moment, thenegro and the fair, young girl looked steadfastly at one another, shefilled with nervous fear, and he, curiously observant. After an almostimperceptible pause--which seemed hours to Bella--the man leaped throughthe window, before she could regain her voice to forbid his entrance.

  "Where is my master?" he asked, in guttural tones, but in fairly goodEnglish.

  Bella did not immediately reply, as her nerves fairly thrilled with theweird realisation of what the witch-wife had seen in the crystal, andeven now she had not her voice under command. The negro was tall, bulky,and powerfully framed, coal-black from head to foot, with tightly curledhair and sharp, white teeth like those of a dog. Bella had never seen sohuge and strong a man, but in spite of his formidable appearance, hisdark eyes had a kindly look in their depths, and his movements wereextremely gentle. Apparently his bark was worse than his bite, thoughhis uncivilised looks were enough to awe the boldest. Plainly butroughly dressed in an old tweed suit, with brown shoes and a bowler hat,he was not noticeable, save for his stature and enormous virility. Thesensation he produced on the girl was overpowering, yet it was notentirely one of fear. In spite of his cannibal looks and unexpectedentrance, and imperious demand, she felt perfectly safe.

  "I am Durgo!" explained the negro, annoyed by her silence, as wasapparent from the frown which wrinkled his eye-brows. "Where is mymaster?"

  "I don't know where your master is," she replied, finding her tonguewith some difficulty. "I do not know who your master is."

  "My master," said the negro, "is my master. He came here two weeks andsome days ago, more or less. I have come to find him. Where is he?"

  "How can I tell you when I do not even know his name?" asked Bellasharply.

  "His name is----" Durgo was about to satisfy her curiosity, when hecaught sight of the photograph in the silver frame, which still stood onthe table. With a guttural cry of delight, he caught this up in his hugehands. "Oh, my master! my master!" he gurgled, in an ecstasy of delight.

  Bella stepped back a pace with a scared look. "Mr. Lister your master?"

  Durgo nodded, and coolly slipped the photograph, frame and all, into thebreast pocket of his tweed coat. "He is here! I shall find him," heremarked. "Did my master see Captain Huxham?"

  "Yes," she replied mechanically.

  "Did my master and Captain Huxham quarrel?"

  "Yes," she replied again, and still mechanically.

  "And did my master get what he wanted?" demanded the negro, rolling hiseyes.

  "I don't know what Mr. Lister wanted," said Bella faintly; "you mustexplain yourself, and----"

  "I explain nothing until I see my master," was Durgo's reply. "PerhapsCaptain Huxham knows where my master is?"

  "Captain Huxham is dead," she gasped.

  Durgo shut his strong white teeth with a click. "Dead!" he repeated."Ah--aha--aha; Captain Huxham is dead. Then my master----"

  "No," cried Bella, covering her eyes. "I don't believe that Cyril killedmy father--I don't believe it."

  "Cyril! father!" repeated Durgo, looking at her curiously. "I must learnif----" He broke off suddenly and moved noiselessly to the window. Bellastretched a helpless hand to stay him, but, lightly vaulting out ofdoors, he disappeared in a moment. She rushed to the window and saw himrunning down the path towards the boundary channel. There was no chanceof catching him up, as she saw well, and therefore drew back.

  "The crystal! the crystal!" she muttered to herself, shivering. "Grannymust know what it all means. I must see Granny, and ask about thecrystal."