BOOK II.
"A woman has enough to govern wisely Her own demeanours, pa.s.sions and divisions."
CHAPTER I.
On a certain night in the December following the engagement of Marcella Boyce to Aldous Raeburn, the woods and fields of Mellor, and all the bare rampart of chalk down which divides the Buckinghamshire plain from the forest upland of the Chilterns lay steeped in moonlight, and in the silence which belongs to intense frost.
Winter had set in before the leaf had fallen from the last oaks; already there had been a fortnight or more of severe cold, with hardly any snow.
The pastures were delicately white; the ditches and the wet furrows in the ploughed land, the ponds on Mellor common, and the stagnant pool in the midst of the village, whence it drew its main water supply, were frozen hard. But the ploughed chalk land itself lay a dull grey beside the glitter of the pastures, and the woods under the bright sun of the days dropped their rime only to pa.s.s once more with the deadly cold of the night under the fantastic empire of the frost. Every day the veil of morning mist rose lightly from the woods, uncurtaining the wintry spectacle, and melting into the brilliant azure of an unflecked sky; every night the moon rose without a breath of wind, without a cloud; and all the branch-work of the trees, where they stood in the open fields, lay reflected clean and sharp on the whitened ground. The bitter cold stole into the cottages, marking the old and feeble with the touch of Azrael; while without, in the field solitudes, bird and beast cowered benumbed and starving in hole and roosting place.
How still it was--this midnight--on the fringe of the woods! Two men sitting concealed among some bushes at the edge of Mr. Boyce"s largest cover, and bent upon a common errand, hardly spoke to each other, so strange and oppressive was the silence. One was Jim Hurd; the other was a labourer, a son of old Patton of the almshouses, himself a man of nearly sixty, with a small wizened face showing sharp and white to-night under his slouched hat.
They looked out over a shallow cup of treeless land to a further bound of wooded hill, ending towards the north in a bare bluff of down shining steep under the moon. They were in shadow, and so was most of the wide dip of land before them; but through a gap to their right, beyond the wood, the moonbeams poured, and the farms nestling under the opposite ridge, the plantations ranging along it, and the bald beacon hill in which it broke to the plain, were all in radiant light.
Not a stir of life anywhere. Hurd put up his hand to his ear, and leaning forward listened intently. Suddenly--a vibration, a dull thumping sound in the soil of the bank immediately beside him. He started, dropped his hand, and, stooping, laid his ear to the ground.
"Gi" us the bag," he said to his companion, drawing himself upright.
"You can hear "em turnin" and creepin" as plain as anything. Now then, you take these and go t" other side."
He handed over a bundle of rabbit nets. Patton, crawling on hands and knees, climbed over the low overgrown bank on which the hedge stood into the precincts of the wood itself. The state of the hedge, leaving the cover practically open and defenceless along its whole boundary, showed plainly enough that it belonged to the Mellor estate. But the field beyond was Lord Maxwell"s.
Hurd applied himself to netting the holes on his own side, pushing the brambles and undergrowth aside with the sure hand of one who had already reconnoitred the ground. Then he crept over to Patton to see that all was right on the other side, came back, and went for the ferrets, of whom he had four in a closely tied bag.
A quarter of an hour of intense excitement followed. In all, five rabbits bolted--three on Hurd"s side, two on Patton"s. It was all the two men could do to secure their prey, manage the ferrets, and keep a watch on the holes. Hurd"s great hands--now fixing the pegs that held the nets, now dealing death to the entangled rabbit, whose neck he broke in an instant by a turn of the thumb, now winding up the line that held the ferret--seemed to be everywhere.
At last a ferret "laid up," the string attached to him having either slipped or broken, greatly to the disgust of the men, who did not want to be driven either to dig, which made a noise and took time, or to lose their animal. The rabbits made no more sign, and it was tolerably evident that they had got as much as they were likely to get out of that particular "bury."
Hurd thrust his arm deep into the hole where he had put the ferret.
"Ther"s summat in the way," he declared at last. "Mos" likely a dead un.
Gi" me the spade."
He dug away the mouth of the hole, making as little noise as possible, and tried again.
""Ere ee be," he cried, clutching at something, drew it out, exclaimed in disgust, flung it away, and pounced upon a rabbit which on the removal of the obstacle followed like a flash, pursued by the lost ferret. Hurd caught the rabbit by the neck, held it by main force, and killed it; then put the ferret into his pocket. "Lord!" he said, wiping his brow, "they do come suddent."
What he had pulled out was a dead cat; a wretched puss, who on some happy hunt had got itself wedged in the hole, and so perished there miserably. He and Patton stooped over it wondering; then Hurd walked some paces along the bank, looking warily out to the right of him across the open country all the time. He threw the poor malodorous thing far into the wood and returned.
The two men lit their pipes under the shelter of the bushes, and rested a bit, well hidden, but able to see out through a break in the bit of thicket.
"Six on "em," said Hurd, looking at the stark creatures beside him. "I be too done to try another bury. I"ll set a snare or two, an" be off home."
Patton puffed silently. He was wondering whether Hurd would give him one rabbit or two. Hurd had both "plant" and skill, and Patton would have been glad enough to come for one. Still he was a plaintive man with a perpetual grievance, and had already made up his mind that Hurd would treat him shabbily to-night, in spite of many past demonstrations that his companion was on the whole of a liberal disposition.
"You bin out workin" a day"s work already, han"t yer?" he said presently. He himself was out of work, like half the village, and had been presented by his wife with boiled swede for supper. But he knew that Hurd had been taken on at the works at the Court, where the new drive was being made, and a piece of ornamental water enlarged and improved--mainly for the sake of giving employment in bad times. He, Patton, and some of his mates, had tried to get a job there. But the steward had turned them back. The men off the estate had first claim, and there was not room for all of them. Yet Hurd had been taken on, which had set people talking.
Hurd nodded, and said nothing. He was not disposed to be communicative on the subject of his employment at the Court.
"An" it be true as _she_ be goin" to marry Muster Raeburn?"
Patton jerked his head towards the right, where above a sloping hedge the chimneys of Mellor and the tops of the Mellor cedars, some two or three fields away, showed distinct against the deep night blue.
Hurd nodded again, and smoked diligently. Patton, nettled by this parsimony of speech, made the inward comment that his companion was "a deep un." The village was perfectly aware of the particular friendship shown by Miss Boyce to the Hurds. He was goaded into trying a more stinging topic.
"Westall wor braggin" last night at Bradsell"s"--(Bradsell was the landlord of "The Green Man" at Mellor)--"ee said as how they"d taken you on at the Court--but that didn"t prevent "em knowin" as you was a bad lot. Ee said _ee_ "ad "is eye on yer--ee "ad warned yer twoice last year--"
"That"s a lie!" said Hurd, removing his pipe an instant and putting it back again.
Patton looked more cheerful.
"Well, ee spoke cru"l. Ee was certain, ee said, as you could tell a thing or two about them coverts at Tudley End, if the treuth were known.
You wor allus a loafer, an" a loafer you"d be. Yer might go snivellin"
to Miss Boyce, ee said, but yer wouldn"t do no honest work--ee said--not if yer could help it--that"s what ee said."
"Devil!" said Hurd between his teeth, with a quick lift of all his great misshapen chest. He took his pipe out of his mouth, rammed it down fiercely with his thumb, and put it in his pocket.
"Look out!" exclaimed Patton with a start.
A whistle!--clear and distinct--from the opposite side of the hollow.
Then a man"s figure, black and motionless an instant on the whitened down, with a black speck beside it; lastly, another figure higher up along the hill, in quick motion towards the first, with other specks behind it. The poachers instantly understood that it was Westall--whose particular beat lay in this part of the estate--signalling to his night watcher, Charlie Dynes, and that the two men would be on them in no time. It was the work of a few seconds to efface as far as possible the traces of their raid, to drag some thick and trailing brambles which hung near over the mouth of the hole where there had been digging, to catch up the ferrets and game, and to bid Hurd"s lurcher to come to heel. The two men crawled up the ditch with their burdens as far away to leeward as they could get from the track by which the keepers would cross the field. The ditch was deeply overgrown, and when the approaching voices warned them to lie close, they crouched under a dense thicket of brambles and overhanging bushes, afraid of nothing but the noses of the keepers" dogs.
Dogs and men, however, pa.s.sed unsuspecting.
"Hold still!" said Hurd, checking Patton"s first attempt to move. "He"ll be back again mos" like. It"s "is dodge."
And sure enough in twenty minutes or so the men reappeared. They retraced their steps from the further corner of the field, where some preserves of Lord Maxwell"s approached very closely to the big Mellor wood, and came back again along the diagonal path within fifty yards or so of the men in the ditch.
In the stillness the poachers could hear Westall"s harsh and peremptory voice giving some orders to his underling, or calling to the dogs, who had scattered a little in the stubble. Hurd"s own dog quivered beside him once or twice.
Then steps and voices faded into the distance and all was safe.
The poachers crept out grinning, and watched the keepers" progress along the hill-face, till they disappeared into the Maxwell woods.
"_Ee_ be sold again--blast "im!" said Hurd, with a note of quite disproportionate exultation in his queer, cracked voice. "Now I"ll set them snares. But you"d better git home."
Patton took the hint, gave a grunt of thanks as his companion handed him two rabbits, which he stowed away in the capacious pockets of his poacher"s coat, and slouched off home by as sheltered and roundabout a way as possible.
Hurd, left to himself, stowed his nets and other apparatus in a hidden crevice of the bank, and strolled along to set his snares in three hare-runs, well known to him, round the further side of the wood.
Then he waited impatiently for the striking of the clock in Mellor church. The cold was bitter, but his night"s work was not over yet, and he had had very good reasons for getting rid of Patton.
Almost immediately the bell rang out, the echo rolling round the bend of the hills in the frosty silence. Half-past twelve Hurd scrambled over the ditch, pushed his way through the dilapidated hedge, and began to climb the ascent of the wood. The outskirts of it were filled with a thin mixed growth of sapling and underwood, but the high centre of it was crowned by a grove of full-grown beeches, through which the moon, now at its height, was playing freely, as Hurd clambered upwards amid the dead leaves just freshly strewn, as though in yearly festival, about their polished trunks. Such infinite grace and strength in the line work of the branches!--branches not bent into gnarled and unexpected fantasies, like those of the oak, but gathered into every conceivable harmony of upward curve and sweep, rising all together, black against the silvery light, each tree related to and completing its neighbour, as though the whole wood, so finely rounded on itself and to the hill, were but one majestic conception of a master artist.