Thereby Hangs a Tale Part 57

"Not true!" exclaimed Mrs Lloyd, with her sallow cheeks flus.h.i.+ng. "Ask your father. Is it so hard," she added, bitterly, "to find that you have a father and mother alive instead of in the grave?"

"It is impossible!" cried Richard.

"Hush, hold your tongue!" she said, angrily. "You know the secret now-- keep it. What is it to a soul? I never had the heart to send Humphrey away, but treated him well. Send him away now--give him money to go away. He'll soon forget Polly. You must many her; and Richard--say a kind word to me," she whispered, softening, "kiss me once--once only, my boy--your mother--before she goes back to be your servant, and to hold her peace for ever."

She crept closer to him, as he stood staring straight away, her thin hands rested on his shoulders, and she gazed up into his eyes, with her face working and growing strangely young, even as his tinned old.

"d.i.c.k, my darling, handsome son, kiss me--once only. And you'll marry her, won't you, and make her happy? One kiss, my own boy."

She uttered a hoa.r.s.e cry, for he looked down at her with a look of loathing, and thrust her away.

"Mother? No!" he cried. "I can't call you that. Woman, you thought to bless me, and what you have done comes upon me like a curse. Don't touch me. Don't come near me. Take away your hands. I cannot bear it."

She clung to him; but he tore her hands away, and pushed her from him.

"d.i.c.k," she cried, throwing herself on her knees to him, and embracing his knees. "Your mother. One loving word."

"I can't," he gasped--"I can't. It is too much. An impostor--a pretender; and now to be an outcast! My G.o.d! what have I done that I should suffer this? Oh, Tiny! My love--my love!"

Those last words seemed torn from his breast in a low, hoa.r.s.e whisper, as, breaking from the prostrate woman, he rushed away, right into the woods--the undergrowth bending and snapping as he pa.s.sed on; till, with a groan of despair, he threw himself upon the earth, and lay there, in the deep shade, with his face buried in his hands.

Volume 2, Chapter XIX.

WITH THE OWNER.

How long Richard lay there he did not know. To him, it seemed like a year of torment, during which, in a wildly fevered state, he went over, again and again, the narrative he had heard; tried to find a flaw in it, but in vain. It was too true--too circ.u.mstantial; and at last, in a dazed, heavy way, he raised his haggard face, with his hair roughened, and wrinkled brow, to see Humphrey sitting upon a fallen tree by his side.

"Ah, Humphrey," he said, in a calm, sad voice. "How long have you been there?"

"Ever since, sir," said the young man. "I followed you."

"Then you heard?"

"Every word, sir. I couldn't help it, though. I didn't want to listen."

Richard bowed his head, and remained with his chin upon his breast.

"I had left Polly, sir--G.o.d bless her! she'd made me very happy with what she said--and I was taking a short cut back to try and catch you, sir, when I came upon you sudden like."

"Yes," said Richard, looking him full in the face. "But it was no fault of mine. I thought I was too happy for it to last. But I'll be a man over it. Humphrey," he exclaimed, rousing himself, "they educated me to be a gentleman, and I won't belie them there. Once for all, I am very sorry, and I'll make you every rest.i.tution in my power."

"Well, sir, I did wonder why she was always so hard to me: but I don't understand you, sir," said Humphrey, quietly.

"Don't sir me, man," exclaimed Richard, pa.s.sionately.

"Don't be cross with me about it, Master d.i.c.k," said Humphrey, smiling; "'taint my fault."

"No, no, my good fellow, I know. Oh, it was monstrous!"

He turned away his head.

"Do you think it's all true, Master Richard," said Humphrey, quietly; "it seems so wild-like."

"True enough. Oh yes, it's true. But there, we won't talk."

"But I think we'd better, sir."

"Haven't I told you that I'll make you rest.i.tution, man--give up all?"

"Master Richard," said Humphrey, with a happy smile on his face, "you've give up to me my little love, and made me feel as if there was nothing else in the world I'd care to have. Look ye here, sir, it's stunned me like; it's hard, you know, to understand. I'm only a poor fellow like, come what may; and if I had the place--oh, you know, it just sounds like so much nonsense!--what could me and Polly do with it, when we could be happier at the lodge? It makes me laugh--it do indeed, sir. You, you see, have been made a scholar, and have your big friends--been made a gentleman, in fact--and nothing would ever make one of me. Let's go on, then, as we are, sir. I'm willing. Only sometimes Polly, maybe, 'll want a new dress, or a ribbon, or something of that kind; and then, if I ask you, you'll give me half a sovereign, or may be a sovereign, eh?"

"Half a sovereign--a sovereign! Why, man, can you not realise that you have from now eight thousand a year?"

"No, sir, that I can't," said Humphrey, smiling pleasantly. "I never was good at figures. Dogs, you know, or horses, or anything in the farming line, I'm pretty tidy at; but figures bothers me. Let things stop as they are, sir; I won't say a word, even to Polly."

"Humphrey," said Richard, holding out his hand, "you always were a good, true, simple-hearted fellow."

"I hope so, sir," said Humphrey, giving his h.o.r.n.y palm a rub down his cord breeches before taking the extended hand, "and that's what makes it right that we should go on as we are. Nature knew it, sir, and that's how it was the change came about--you being the clever one, and best suited for the estate. I'm glad of one thing, though."

"What's that?" said Richard, wringing the extended hand.

"Why, I know now, sir, why Mrs Lloyd was always so down on me--she always was down on me, awful--regular hated me, like. Ah, the times I've cried over it as a boy! n.o.body ever seemed to love me like till now, sir--till now."

Humphrey beamed as he slapped his broad chest; and his simple words seemed to corroborate those of Mrs Lloyd, till the last ray of hope was crushed from Richard's breast.

"No, Humphrey," he said, gravely, though every word cost him a pang, "I cannot stay here as an impostor. The place is yours, I give up all."

"That you just won't, sir," said Humphrey. "Why, I should be a brute beast if I let you. Come, come, let it go for a day or two, and think it over. It won't trouble me. I don't want it. I'm only glad of one thing--I've got somebody on the hip, and she won't say no now."

"I want no thinking, Humphrey; and we can still be friends. Come up to the house."

"And what would Miss Tiny say?"

If Humphrey had stabbed him with the iron-pointed staff he carried, he could not have given him greater pain; and his eyes wore a strange piteous aspect as they gazed upon the young keeper's face,

"You've got her to think about too, sir," said Humphrey, "same as I have. Oh no, Master Richard, it wouldn't never, never do."

"Come up to the house, Humphrey--come up to the house."

And then, without another word, but closely followed by his late servant, Richard strode hastily through the wood, whose briars and twigs in the unaccustomed path seemed now to take the part of fate, and lashed and tore him in his reckless pa.s.sage, till his face was smeared with the blood which he had wiped hastily away.

"Has Mrs Lloyd come back from her walk?" said Richard to the staring footman.

"Yes, sir, two hours ago," said the man.

"Go into the study, Humphrey Trevor," said Richard, quietly; and then to himself, "Poor woman! and it was done for me."

Volume 2, Chapter XX.