Peregrine's Progress Part 102

Now as I crouched thus, plagued by the obscene demons of my imagination, I was aroused by a distant sound and opening my eyes saw how the sun touched Diana's sleeping form like the blessing of G.o.d.

And yet ... what of that night at Raydon Manor? She had volunteered me no word of explanation--not one--and why?

Up to me, borne on the sunny air, came the sound of a whistle that brought me to my feet eager for action, for conflict or death itself--anything rather than the harrowing torment of my thoughts.

Very cautiously I crossed the uneven floor and lifting the trap as silently as possible, I set the ladder in place and descended. The whistling had stopped, but in its stead I caught a sound of stealthy movement outside the barn, and glancing about, I presently espied my whip where I had dropped it last night, and with this in my hand I gently unbarred the doors and opening them a little way, stepped out into the radiant morning. And then, tossing aside my whip, I ran forward, both hands extended in eager greeting.

"Why, Jerry!" I exclaimed. "O Jerry Jarvis, you come like an angel of heaven!"

"Lord!" exclaimed the Tinker, grasping my hands very hard. "Lord love you, Mr. Vereker--"

"Call me Perry as you used."

"Why, then--here's j'y, Perry--but as to angels, who ever see an angel in cord breeches--an' patched at that! But G.o.d bless us all--what should bring you hereabouts--"

"Love, Jerry--love--"

"You mean--Anna?"

"Yes, we are to be married as soon as possible."

"What, you an' Anna?"

"Who else, my Jeremy?"

"But she's a-breaking her 'eart over summat or other--"

"No, she's lying fast asleep in the loft yonder and looking as sweet--as good and pure as--as--"

"As she is, Peregrine!"

"Yes, Jerry. But what are you doing here, G.o.d bless you!"

"Didn't you know as she wrote me two days since--app'inting me to meet her here--and here I am, a bit early p'raps, but then I thought she was lonely--in trouble, d'ye see--in trouble. And then, Lord, if you only knew how hungry--aye, ravenous I am for sight of her arter all this time--"

"Why, then, you shall see her--at once."

"Nay, let her have her sleep out; let's you an' me get a fire going.

I've a frying pan in my cart over yonder--ham an' eggs, lad!"

"G.o.d bless you again, Jerry--breakfast! And here among the trees it will be like old times, though Jessamy ought to be with us, of course."

"Well he's over at my little camp not so far away. I'm pitched t'

other side Amberley wood."

"How is he, Jerry?"

"Mighty well. He's rich again, y' see--aye, richer than ever an'

pursooed by several widders in consequence. He's come into a mort o'

money, has Jessamy. But you know all about it, o' course?"

"Not a word."

"Lord, an' 't was your uncle, Sir Jervas, as done it! Left Jess five--thousand--pound! Think o' that!"

Thus, talking like the old friends we were, we set about collecting sticks and soon had the fire burning merrily. All at once we stood silent and motionless, for Diana was singing.

It was an Italian love song full of sweet rippling notes and trills but, as she sang it, a very ecstasy of yearning tenderness that changed suddenly to joy and rapturous happiness, her glorious voice ringing out full-throated, rich and clear, inexpressibly sweet, swelling louder and louder until suddenly it was gone and we standing mute with awed delight.

"She's a-doin' her hair!" whispered Jerry. "She allus used to sing in the morning a-doin' her hair, I mind, but never--ah, never so--wonderfully!"

And then she began again, this time that Zingari air we both remembered so well. Singing thus, she stepped out into the sunlight but, seeing us, stopped in the middle of a note and ran forward (even as I had done) with both hands outstretched in greeting.

"Jerry!" she cried. "My dear, good Jerry!"

But the Tinker drew back, a little abashed by the wondrous change in her.

"Why, Ann--why, Anna!" he stammered. "Can this be you--so--so beautiful? Speaks different too!"

"O Jerry dear--won't you kiss me?"

"Glory be!" he exclaimed, taking her outstretched hands. "Though so very different 'tis the same sweet maid--'tis the very same Ann as learned to read an' write s' wonderful quick--Glory be!" And so they kissed each other.

Then walking between us, busy with question and answer, he brought us where stood his weather-beaten, four-wheeled chaise with Diogenes, that equine philosopher, cropping the gra.s.s as sedulously as though he had never left off and who, lifting s.h.a.ggy head, snorted unimpa.s.sioned greeting and promptly began to nibble again.

b.u.t.ter, a new loaf, ham and eggs and coffee! What hungry mortals could desire more? And now the Tinker and I, sitting side by side in the leafy shade, watched our Diana who, scornful of all a.s.sistance, prepared breakfast with her own quick, capable hands.

What words are there may adequately describe this meal? With what appet.i.te we ate, all three; how we talked and laughed for small reason or no reason at all.

"Lord, Ann!" exclaimed the Tinker, glancing from the piece of ham on his knife point to Diana's stately beauty.

"'Tis wonderful what two years can do! You don't need any book of etiquette these days--you look so proud, so n.o.ble--aye, as any d.u.c.h.ess in a nov-el or out! Lord love you, Ann, it don't seem right any more as you should be a-drinkin' coffee out of a tin mug along of a travellin' tinker in patched breeches, that it don't! I reckon you've seen a lot o' the grand world an' plenty o' fine folk, eh Ann?"

"Enough to know the simpler joys are always the best, dear Jerry, and to love the Silent Places more than ever. And as for you, Jerry, there never was such a tinker before--"

"And never will be again!" I added.

"And so we mean to stay with you awhile, don't we, Peregrine?"

"Excellent!" said I. "We will s.h.i.+ft camp to the old place--"

"The little wood beside the stream beyond Wyvelstoke," said Diana softly, "that dear place where Love found us--in the dawn--and you clasped the little locket about my neck, Peregrine."

"Which you don't wear now, Diana!"

"Which you shall put back--one day--soon, Peregrine."

"Why did you take it off, Diana?"

"Because!" she answered.