Deep Moat Grange Read online

  CHAPTER VIII

  MISS APHRA'S CURATE

  We had scarcely started our tea, and hunger was still keen upon Elsie,when there came a noise of calling, quite different from the howling ofmad folk, or the mocking laughter or ugly whine of Jeremy. Miss Orrinpoured out tea with a kind of grim _aplomb_. If I had been afraid thatshe meant to poison us--or at least Elsie, I was soon undeceived. Theamount of tea that she poured down her own throat was astonishing inthe extreme. There were, however, certainly several sorts of cake thatshe would not allow her master, Mr. Stennis, to touch, on pretext ofindigestion, but which she pressed upon us. And it was all that Icould do, by kicking her shins beneath the table, to keep Elsie fromaccepting.

  I managed it all right, though. They might have been as harmless as myfather's acid drops. But after all there was only one Elsie, and I wasnot going to run any risks.

  There was a distant sound of calling across the moat, and at the noise,Mr. Stennis frowned, an ugly look coming over his face, while on thecontrary the sound had a still more extraordinary effect upon MissOrrin. Her eyes gleamed more softly, losing for a moment theiriron-gray expression. Her hands went up instinctively to the thinlittle corkscrew curls which bobbed at either side of her face.

  In ten seconds the fierce, angular old maid looked ten years younger.Love, vanity, self-consciousness--ye are wondrous things.

  "If it's that interfering curate from Over Breckonton, I'll throw himinto the moat! I'll have the dogs on him," growled Mr. Stennis,"always poking his nose in when he is least wanted!"

  Then he turned to his housekeeper, and detecting her busy fingers, hesaid with a sneer--

  "What, prinking again! I see. Only the beneficed clergy have anychance with you, Miss Aphra!"

  "Beneficed!" she cried. "Ah! poor lad, I wish he were! If I had mywill it would not all go to that lazy vicar, who never does a ha'pworthof good, but rides to hounds and preaches his father's sermons, becausehe cannot make one for himself."

  "Ha!" cried the old man, "be off with you, young ones. Miss Orrin isgoing to receive spiritual direction and absolution."

  The tall old woman started up, her right hand upon the bread knife, asif she could have killed her master with it on the spot.

  "Well would it be for you, Hobby Stennis, if you did the like!" shesaid, restraining herself with difficulty. "But there's Mr.Ablethorpe, and he must not be kept waiting!"

  "Of course not, Miss Orrin," said Mr. Stennis sneeringly. "It were apity indeed that he should--and he come so far to administer spiritualconsolation to conscious sinners!"

  Then the old woman was roused to fury.

  "Sinner am I?" she said, going up and bending her body till her facecame within an inch of two of that of the old man, who was seated,pretending to go on with his tea. "Sinner am I? Well, I do not denyit. But at least, if sinner I be, it is that I may find a home and alivelihood for those three poor things, whom God hath bereft of theirreason! But as for you--for what do you sin--sin till the sand of thesea could hardly tell the multitude of your crimes, poured from thehand like water, a grain for a sin? For money--yes, for dirty gold!For money which you dare not spend, and for gear which you dare notshow! Answer me that! And if sinner I be--I have never heard or readthat the Gospel is not for sinners! Do I not need it the more, HobbyStennis? And the young man is a good young man, and speaks to me ofhigh things--such as I need much, and you more!"

  "Have your shown him your Mumbo-Jumbo worship in the barn? Or yoursisters, kneeling before the little coffins--all that flummery? Youought to be ashamed--you, Aphra Orrin, you, a woman of sense, and ableto know better!"

  "And if I told Mr. Ablethorpe all, he would understand," retorted theold maid. "He would understand that those who cannot know God must becontent with such a God as they can understand!"

  Mr. Stennis laughed, but there was a false ring in his laughter.

  "Aye," he said, "doubtless there are a great many things which the goodyoung man, Mr. Ablethorpe, cannot understand. Did you ever, by chance,try to teach him a little gardening?"

  "No, and well for you, Hobby Stennis!" cried the woman, stillthreateningly.

  "Well or ill," said the old man, "I go to see these bairns across thebridge and safe on their way home. Then to my weaving! Where isJeremy?"

  "How should I know were Jeremy is--on some of your errands, doubtless!"she cried. "Come, I will let down the drawbridge myself. Also I shallsee to it that you offer no indignity to the one honest man who deignsto enter your house."

  This quarrel between the two most sane inhabitants of Deep Moat Grangelet me deeper into the secrets of that evil dwelling than anythingelse. At least, so I thought at the time. But I found afterwards thatall I thought I knew had but lain on the surface. I had conceited tofind Shallow Moat Grange, and lo! the name was no misnomer. The moatwas Deep, indeed.

  All the same, it was like coming out of a heated room, with many peopletherein, into the silence and chill of the winter stars, to get one'shead outside that abominable house of the Grange. How good to pass bythe lily clumps, and feel one's feet on green grass again! It seemedto me that even the dull and sullen moat could be crossed, if you onlytook it determinedly enough. We had seen Jeremy come over and return,and so surely could we, fleeing (if need were) for our lives.

  But there was no need at present. Miss Orrin had thrown a white shawlabout her head and shoulders, and drawn a pair of tight silk lacy"mits" over her bony wrists. She made straight for the drawbridge,walking at least ten yards in front of us--apparently that she mightget the first word with the fine young man in clerical attire who stoodwaiting on the further bank.

  "I am sorry to have kept you, sir," she said, in a voice which I couldnot have believed to be hers, had I not seen her lips moving as wearrived; "I will let down the bridge in a moment. Mr. Stennis has beenentertaining some relatives of his own, and did not wish to bedisturbed."

  "I hope that I am not intruding!" called out the young man from thefarther bank. "I can easily look in again. It will not be the leasttrouble, I assure you!"

  "Not for the world," cried the old woman hastily; "in a moment thebridge will be down."

  And she rushed to the little wheelhouse, to let go the chain with arelieving motion of her foot. And immediately the ponderous affaircame clanking to the ground, locking into the pawls at the other sidewith the pleasant _sloop_ of well-oiled machinery.

  Then it was our turn to be introduced. Mr. Ablethorpe came across thewood with the firm tread of an athlete. He held out his hand first toMiss Orrin, who bowed over it, as if she would have loved to raise itreverently to her lips.

  Then he shook hands with Mr. Stennis, who took the matter cavalierlyenough, immediately turning on his heel and going off in the directionof his weaving-room, which had an additional entrance from the front.The young curate was apparently well enough accustomed to suchtreatment, and thought nothing of it, but Miss Orrin bit her thin lipsand looked daggers at the bowed head of the old weaver-farmer as hetrudged away.

  "Halloo, Joseph Yarrow," said Mr. Ablethorpe lightly, as he ruffled myhead with his hand. (I understood well enough to take off my cap to aclergyman.) "Joe Yarrow, I know your father. And I think--yes, Ithink--" (he put a lot of accent on the _think_) "Master Joseph, youought to be at school. Shall I tell your father, Joseph? If I did, Imake no doubt that he would give you a coat of a few colours, mainlyblack and blue. Ha! ha!"

  But he had that light way with him, which made us quite sure that hewould do nothing half so mean as to tell either my father or Mr.Mustard the schoolmaster.

  "And who is this young lady?" he said, looking at Elsie, who was tall,and when taken short like that had a kind of "distant" look which madepeople think she was haughty. But she looked very nice that way--whatpeople call pretty and "chic" (whatever that may be). I could see thatMr. Ablethorpe was interested in her directly. I could have knockedhis head off! Cheek, indeed!

  "She lives with a poor working
woman," said Miss Orrin, who had nodoubt noticed the interest as well as I, "one named Nance Edgar, notvery far out of Breckonside village. But not in your parish, Mr.Ablethorpe. Will you come this way, Mr. Ablethorpe? There is teaready for you."

  But Mr Ablethorpe had his own time of doing things, and with such agirl as Elsie in front of him, he was not in a hurry.

  "Lives with a poor woman, does she?--Nancy--Nancy--what name did yousay?" he went on in the tone in which people ask for additionalinformation.

  But I was not going to stand this--from Miss Orrin or any one, about myElsie.

  "This is Miss Elsie Stennis," I said, with what of dignity I couldcompass with my inches, "the only grand daughter of Mr Stennis, theowner of this property."

  "But how?" said the young man, looking, as I thought, a littlereproachfully at Miss Orrin; "I was not seriously aware that Mr.Stennis had any relatives alive."

  "This girl has been represented as the child of his daughter Isabella,"said Miss Orrin, "but Mr. Stennis, doubtless for excellent reasons, hasnever acknowledged her as such!"

  "But the church records and the registrar have, though," said I. "Youcan speak to old Mr. Askew, if you like--he knows!"

  "You can go now," said Miss Orrin, with dignity, cutting me short, "andremember that you are not to return till you have received aninvitation. Mr. Stennis will overlook your conduct on this occasion,in consideration of your youth and ignorance. But you will know betterthe next time, and no such excuse will be accepted."

  As Mr. Ablethorpe passed me he nodded his blonde curly head at me,twinkled his eye, and said: "Tell your father that I am going to lookhim up one of these days. I want a subscription for our Organ Fund,but I won't say anything about where I found you--I promise you that."

  He looked at Elsie, too, as if he had meant to say something jokinglyto her also, but thought better of it. Then he lifted his hat andpassed away across the green lawn side by side with Miss Orrin. Theywove their way among the clumps of lilies till they were lost to view,and I could see that they were talking earnestly together.

  And from the barn, very lonesome across the black water of the moat,came the indignant hooting of the mad sisters still shut up behind thebarred door, with the black altar and the little coffins.