Only One Love; or, Who Was the Heir. Garvice Charles

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ he said, after a moment’s pause.

      “Where are you going?” was the quiet response.

      “To Arkdale.”

      The woodman raised his eyes, and looked at him for a moment.

      “Arkdale? Yes, you are out of the way. Arkdale lies to the west. Follow me, young sir, and I’ll show you the road.”

      “Stop a moment,” said the other; “though you declined to wait for me just now, you would not refuse to give me a glass of water, I suppose.”

      The man turned, he had already strode forward, and laid his hand on the latch of the cottage door.

      The young man was following as a matter of course; but the woodman, with his hand still on the latch, pointed to a wooden seat under the window.

      “Take your seat there, sir,” he said, with grim determination.

      The other stared, and the hot blood rose to his face; but he threw himself on the bench.

      “Very well,” he said; “I see you still think me a ghost; you’ll be more easy when you see me drink. Look sharp, my good fellow.”

      The woodman, not a whit moved by this taunt, entered the cottage, and the young man heard a bolt shot into its place.

      A few moments passed, and then the man came out with a plate and a glass.

      “Thanks,” said the young man. “What’s this?”

      “Cider – cake,” was the curt answer.

      “Oh, thanks,” repeated the other; “jolly good cider, too. Come, you’re not half a bad fellow. Do you know I meant to give you a hiding when I came up to you?”

      “Very like,” said the man, calmly. “Will you have any more?”

      “Another glass, thanks.”

      With his former precaution in the way of bolting and barring, the man entered the cottage and reappeared with a refilled glass.

      This the young man drank more leisurely, staring with unconcealed curiosity at his entertainer.

      It was a kind of stare that would embarrass six men out of ten, and madden the remaining four; but the woodman bore it with the calm impassiveness of a wooden block, and stood motionless as a statue till the youth set down the glass, then he raised his hand and pointed to the west.

      “Yonder lies Arkdale.”

      “Oh! How far?”

      “Four miles and a half by the near road. Follow me, and I will put you into it.”

      “All right, lead on,” said the other; but as he rose he turned, and while refilling his pipe stared at the closely locked cottage.

      “Comfortable kind of crib that, my man.”

      The woodman nodded curtly.

      “You are a woodman?”

      Another nod.

      “And poacher too, eh? No offense,” he added, coolly. “I only supposed so from the close way in which you keep your place locked up.”

      “Suppose what you please,” retorted the woodman, if words so calmly spoken could be called a retort. “Yonder lies your road, you’d best be taking to it.”

      “No hurry,” retorted the young man, thrusting his hands in his pockets and smiling at the ill-concealed impatience which struggled through the grave calm on the weather-beaten face. “Well, I’m coming. You’re not half such a bad sort, after all. What have you got inside there that you keep so close, eh? Some of the crown jewels or some of the Queen’s venison? Take my advice, old fellow – if you don’t want people to be curious, don’t show such anxiety to keep ’em out of your crib.”

      The man, pacing on ahead, knit his brows as if struck by the idea.

      “Curious folk don’t come this way, young sir,” he said, reluctantly.

      “So I should think,” retorted the other. “Well, I’m not one of the curious, though you think I am. I don’t care a button what you’ve got there. Will you have a pipe? I’ve got some ’bacca.”

      The man shook his head, and they walked on in silence for some minutes, the footpath winding in and out like a dimly-defined serpent. Presently it widened, and the woodman stopped short and pointed down the leafy lane.

      “Follow this path,” he said, “until you come to a wood pile; take the path to the left of it, and it will bring you to Arkdale. Good-night, young sir.”

      “Here, stop!” said the young man, and he held out his hand with a dollar in it. “Here’s a trifle to drink my health with.”

      The woodman looked at the coin, then shook his head slowly; and with another “good-night” turned and tramped off.

      Not at all abashed the young man restored the coin to his pocket, laughed, and strode on.

      The woodman walked back a few yards, then stopped, and looked after the stalwart figure until it deepened in the gloom, a thoughtful, puzzled expression upon his face, as if he were trying to call up some recollection.

      With a shake of his head, denoting failure, he made his way to the cottage, unlocked it and entered.

      The door opened into what appeared to be the living room. It was small and plainly furnished, after the manner of a woodman’s hut, and yet, after a moment’s glance, a stranger would have noticed a subtle air of refinement in common with better habitations.

      The table and chairs were of plain deal, the walls were of pine, stained and varnished, but there was a good thick carpet on the floor, and on one side of the room hung a bookcase filled with well-bound volumes.

      Beside the table, on which was spread the supper, stood a chair, more luxurious than its fellows, and covered with a pretty chintz. The knife and fork laid opposite this chair was of a better quality than the others on the table; and beside the knife and fork lay a white napkin and a daintily engraved glass; the other drinking vessels on the table were of common delf. As the woodman entered, a woman, who was kneeling at a fire in an adjoining room, looked round through the doorway.

      “Is’t you, Gideon?”

      “Yes,” he answered. “Where is Una?”

      “Una? Isn’t she with you? I heard voices. Who was it?”

      “Where is Una?” he said, ignoring her question.

      “In the clearing, I suppose,” said the woman. “She went out a few minutes ago. I thought she went to meet you?”

      The man opened the door and called the dog, who had been wandering round the room in an uneasy fashion.

      “Go, Dick,” he said. “Go fetch her!”

      Then he came and stood by the fire thoughtfully.

      “No,” he said, “it was not Una. I wish she wouldn’t leave the cot after dusk.”

      “Why СКАЧАТЬ