The Rosery Folk

Shouts and laughter greeted each capture of the great fellows, only one of which was as small as two pounds weight, the others running from three to five, and exhibiting a power that was marvellous in creatures of their size. Sometimes a great fellow eluded capture again and again, gliding between the hands, leaping out of the basket, and making furious efforts to escape, but only to be caught once more, till the last was secured, and attention turned to the eels.

By this time the doctor had caught the infection from his friend, and he was as forgetful of the mud and as eager in the chase as Sir James and his men; and as the big landing-net was brought into use, and the great eels that glided over the mud like serpents were chased, they showed that they could travel tail first as fast as head first, and with the greatest ease. The landing-net was held before them, and efforts made to drive them in, but generally without result, or if they were driven in, it was only for them to glide out more quickly. Hands were useless, shovels impotent, and the chase grew exciting in the extreme, as the men plunged in their bare arms to the shoulder, and drew them from the mud again, looking; as if they had gone in, like Mrs Boffin, for fashion, and were wearing twenty-four button gloves of a gloomy hue. But lithe and strong as they were, the eels had to succumb, great two and three pound fellows, and were safely thrown out on the grass; the last of the small fish were secured, the whole of the water drained off, and nothing remained but three feet of thick mud. Nothing? Nothing but the eels that had dived in like worms. These were now attacked. The mud was stirred with poles or shovels till the lurking place of one was found, when, after a long tight, he would be secured, twisting, twining, and fighting for liberty; needing delicate handling too, for these monsters of the pond bite hard and sharp. Deep down in the mud some forced themselves, but many were dug out, and thrown or driven into places where they could be secured, and at last, wet, muddy, and weary, the owner cried Quantum suff., beer for the last time was handed round, and the empty pond was left in peace.

But there was fish for dinner that night, savoury spitchcocked eels, and regal carp with wine sauce, the latter being declared by every one present, from Aunt Sophia to Prayle, to be the poorest, muddiest, most insipid dish ever placed upon a table.

It was about nine that night that just before Lady Scarlett sent a message to the study, which was half full of smoke, and while Prayle had gone for a stroll to watch the stars, as he said, making Scales look a little glum as he left the room, that Sir James cried suddenly – “Jack, old man, I’ll never brag again.”

“Why?”

“I’ve got the most awful of pains in my back, and it seems to run right up my spine. What the dickens is it? Have you been giving me a dose?”

“No,” said Scales grimly; “that comes of emptying the pond.”

“Not going to be anything, is it?”

“Well,” said the doctor, “I don’t know, but a cold will settle sometimes upon the nerves.”

“Oh! hang it, man, don’t talk about one’s nerves. Here, come along, I shall forget it. Let’s go and have some tea.”

Volume One – Chapter Eight.

Jack Scales Meets His Fate

“That’s what I like in the country,” said Jack Scales to himself, as he thrust his hands into his pockets and strolled down one of the garden paths. “Humph! Five o’clock, and people snoring in bed, when they might be up and out enjoying this lovely air, the sweet dewy scent of the flowers, and the clear sunshine, and be inhaling health with every breath they draw. Bah! I can’t understand how people can lie in bed – in the country. There is reason in stopping in peaceful thought upon one’s pillow in town till nine. – Ah, gardener, nice morning.”

“Beautiful morning, sir,” said John Monnick, touching his hat, and then going on with his task of carefully whetting a scythe, and sending a pleasant ringing sound out upon the sweet silence of the time.

“Grass cuts well, eh?” said the doctor.

“Yes, sir; crisp, as if there was a white frost on.”

“Ah, let’s try,” said the doctor. “I haven’t handled a scythe for a good many years now.”

“No, sir; I s’pose not,” said Monnick, with a half-contemptuous smile. “Mind you don’t stick the pynte into the ground, sir, and don’t ee cut too deep. I like to keep my lawns regular like.”

“Why don’t you have a machine?” said the doctor, taking the scythe, and sweeping it round with a slow measured swish that took off the grass and the dewy daisies to leave a velvet pile.

“Machine, sir? Oh, there’s two in the potting shed; but I don’t want no machines, sir. Noo-fangled things, that breaks a man’s back to push ’em along. You has to put yourself in a onnat’ral-like position to work ’em, and when you’ve done it, the grass don’t look like as if it had been mowed. – Well, you do s’prise me, sir; I didn’t know as you could mow.”

“Didn’t you, Monnick?” said the doctor, pausing to take the piece of carpet with which the old man wiped the blade, using it, and then reaching out his hand for the long gritty whetstone, with which he proceeded to sharpen the scythe in the most business-like way. “Ah, you never know what a man can do till you try him. You see, Monnick, when I was a young fellow, I often used to cut the Rectory lawns at home.”

“He’s a clever one,” muttered the old man, watching intently the rubber, as it was passed with quite a scientific touch up and down and from side to side of the long curved blade. “Man who can mow like that must, be a good doctor. I’ll ask him about my ’bago.”

“There, I’m going for a walk. I’m out of condition too, and mowing touches my back.”

“Do it now, sir?” said the old man, smiling. “Hah! that’s where it lays hold o’ me in a rheumaticky sort o’ way, sir. You couldn’t tell me what’d be good for it, sir, could you? I’ve tried the iles, but it seems as if it was getting worse.”

“Oh, I’ll give you something, Monnick,” said the doctor, laughing; “but, you know, there’s a touch of old age in your complaint.”

“Eh, but I’m afraid there is, sir; but thank you kindly, and you’ll forgive me making so bold as to ask.”

“Of course, of course. Come to me after breakfast. – And look here, I want to get on the open heathy part, among the gorse and fir-trees. Which road had I better take?”

“Well, sir, if you don’t mind the wet grass, you’d best go acrost the meadows out into the lane, turn to the left past the church, take the first turning to the right, and go straight on.”

“Thanks; I shall find my way. Don’t forget. I daresay I can set you right.” And the doctor went off at a swinging pace, crossed the meadows, where the soft-eyed cows paused to look up at him, then leaped a gate, walked down the lane, had a look at the pretty old church, embowered in trees, and had nearly reached the open common-land, when the sharp cantering of a horse roused him from his pleasant morning reverie.

He looked round, to see that the cantering horse was ridden by a lady, whose long habit and natty felt hat set off what seemed in the distance to be a very graceful figure; while the oncoming group appeared to be advancing through an elongated telescopic frame of green leaves and drooping branches, splashed with gold and blue.

“Here’s one sensible woman, at all events. What a splendid horse!” His glance was almost momentary. Then, feeling that he was staring rudely, he went on with his walk, continuing his way along the lane, and passing a gate that opened at once upon the furzy common-land.

Suddenly the horse was checked a short distance behind him, and an imperious voice called out: “Here! – hi! – my man.”

John Scales, M.D., felt amused. “This is one of the haughty aristocrats we read about in books,” he said to himself, as he turned and saw a handsome, imperious-looking woman of eight-and-twenty or so, beckoning to him with the handle of her whip.

“The goddess Diana in a riding-habit by Poole, and superbly mounted,” muttered the doctor as he stared wonderingly. He saw that the lady’s hair was dark, her cheeks slightly flushed with exorcise; that there was a glint of very white teeth between two scarlet lips; that the figure was really what he had at the first glance imagined – well formed and graceful, if slightly too matured; and his first idea was to take off his hat and stand uncovered in the presence of so much beauty; his second, as he saw the curl of the lady’s upper lip, and her imperious glance, to thrust his hands lower in his pockets and return the haughty stare.

“Here, my man, come and open this gate.”

As she spoke. Scales saw her pass her whip into her bridle hand, draw off a tan-coloured gauntlet glove, and a white and jewelled set of taper fingers go towards the little pocket in her saddle.

“Why, confound her impudence! she takes me for a yokel, and is going to give me a pint of beer,” said the doctor to himself; and he stood as if turned into stone.

“Do you hear!” she cried again sharply, and in the tones of one accustomed to the greatest deference. “Come and open this gate.”

John Scales felt his dignity touched, for he too was accustomed to the greatest deference, such as a doctor generally receives. For a moment he felt disposed to turn upon his heel and walk away; but he did not, for he burst into a hearty laugh, and walked straight up to the speaker, the latter flushing crimson with anger at the insolence, as she mentally called it, of this stranger.

“How dare you!” she exclaimed. “Open that gate;” and she retook her whip with her ungloved hand to point onward, while her highly bred horse pawed the ground, and snorted and tossed its mane, as if indignant too.

“How dare I, my dear?” said the doctor coolly, as he mentally determined not to be set down.

“Sir!” exclaimed the lady with a flash of her dark eyes that made the recipient think afterwards that here was the style of woman who, in the good old times, would have handed him over to her serfs. “Do you know whom you are addressing?”

“Not I,” said the doctor; “unless you are some very beautiful edition in animated nature of the huntress Diana.”

“Sir!”

“And if you were not such a handsome woman, I should leave you to open the gate yourself, or leap the hedge, which seems more in your way.”

“How dare you!” she cried, utterly astounded at the speaker’s words.

“How dare I?” said the doctor, smiling. “Oh, I’d dare anything now, to see those eyes sparkle and those cheeks flush. There,” he continued, unfastening the gate and throwing it back; “the gate’s open. Au revoir.”

The lady seemed petrified. Then, giving her horse a sharp cut, he bounded through on to the furzy heath, and went off over the rough ground like a swallow.

The doctor stood gazing after them, half expecting to see the lady turn her head; but she rode straight on till she passed out of sight, when he refastened the gate.

“She might have given me the twopence for that pint of beer,” he said mockingly. “Why, she has!” he cried, stooping and picking up a sixpence that lay upon the bare earth close to the gate-post. “Well, come, I’ll keep you, my little friend, and give you back. We may meet again some day.”

It was a trifling incident, but it seemed to affect the doctor a good deal, for he walked on amidst the furze and heath, seeing no golden bloom and hearing no bird-song, but giving vent every now and then to some short angry ejaculation. For he was ruffled and annoyed. He hardly knew why, unless it was at having been treated with such contemptuous disdain.

“And by a woman, too,” he cried at last, stopping short, “of all creatures in the world. Confound her impudence! I should just like to prescribe for her, upon my word.”

Volume One – Chapter Nine.

Aunt Sophia on Boats

The encounter completely spoiled the doctor’s walk, and he turned back sooner than he had intended, meeting Aunt Sophia and Naomi Raleigh in the garden, and accompanying them in to the breakfast-table, where the incident was forgotten in the discussion that ensued respecting returns to town. Of these, Scarlett would hear nothing, for he had made his plans. He said they were to dine at five; and directly after, the boat would be ready, and they would pull up to the lock, and then float down home again by moonlight.

“Well,” said Scales, with a shrug of the shoulders, “you are master here.”

“No, no,” replied his host; “yonder sits the master;” and he pointed to his wife.

“How many will the boat hold safely, dear?” said Lady Scarlett.

“Oh, a dozen, easily. Eighteen, if they would all sit still and not wink their eyes. We shan’t be above seven, so that’s all right.”

“You need not expect me to go,” said Aunt Sophia sharply. “I’m not going to risk my life in a boat.”

“Pooh! auntie; there’s no risk,” cried Scarlett. “You’d better come.”

“No; I shall not!” said the lady very decisively.

“Why, auntie, how absurd!” said Scarlett, passing his arm round her waist. “Now, what is the very worst that could happen?”

“Why, that boat would be sure to upset, James, and then we should all be drowned.”

“Now, my dear old auntie,” cried Scarlett, “the boat is not at all likely to upset; in fact I don’t think we could upset her; and if she were, it does not follow that we should be drowned.”

“Why, we should certainly be, boy,” cried Aunt Sophia. – “Naomi, my dear, of course you have not thought of going?”

“Yes, aunt, dear; I should like to go very much,” said Naomi.

“Bless the child! Why?”

“The river is lovely, aunt, with the shadows of the trees falling upon it, and their branches reflected on its surface.”

“O yes; very poetical and pretty at your age, child,” cried Aunt Sophia. “You never see the mud at the bottom, or think that it is wet and covered with misty fog in winter. Well, I suppose you must go.”

“Really, Miss Raleigh, we will take the greatest care of her,” said Prayle.

“I really should like to take the greatest care of you,” muttered the doctor.

“Well, I suppose you must go, my dear,” said Aunt Sophia.

“Oh, thank you, aunt!” cried the girl gleefully.

“Now, look here, James,” said Aunt Sophia; “you will be very, very careful?”

“Of course, auntie.”

“And you won’t be dancing about in the boat or playing any tricks?”

“No – no – no,” said Scarlett, at intervals. “I faithfully promise, though I do not know why.”

“You don’t know why, James?”

“No, auntie. I never do play tricks in a boat. No one does but a madman, or a fool. Besides, I don’t want to drown my little wifie.”

“Now, James, don’t be absurd. Who ever thought you did?”

“No one, aunt,” said Lady Scarlett. “But you will go with us, will you not?”

“No, my dear; you know how I hate the water. It is not safe.”

“But James is so careful, aunt. I’d go anywhere with him.”

“Of course you would, my child,” said Aunt, Sophia shortly. “A wife should trust in her husband thoroughly and well.”

“So should a maiden aunt in her nephew,” said Scarlett, laughing. “Come, auntie, you shan’t be drowned.”

“Now, James, my dear, don’t try to persuade me,” said the lady, pulling up her black lace mittens in a peculiar, nervous, twitchy way.

“I’ll undertake to do the best for you, if you are drowned, Miss Raleigh,” said the doctor drily. “I’m pretty successful with such cases.”

“Doctor Scales!” cried Aunt Sophia.

“Fact, my dear madam. An old friend of mine did the Royal Humane Society’s business for them at the building in Hyde Park; and one very severe winter when I helped him, we really brought back to life a good many whom you might have quite given up.”

“Doctor, you horrify me,” cried Aunt Sophia. – “Naomi, my child, come away.”

“No, no: nonsense!” cried Scarlett. “It’s only Jack’s joking way, auntie.”

“Joke!” cried the doctor; “nonsense. The ice was unsafe; so of course the idiots insisted upon setting the police at defiance, and went on, to drown themselves as fast as they could.”

“How dreadful!” said Prayle.

“Very, for the poor doctors,” said Scales grimly. “I nearly rubbed my arms out of the sockets.”

“Kitty, dear, you stay with Aunt Sophia, then,” said Scarlett. “We won’t be very long away.”

“Stop!” cried Aunt Sophia sternly. “Where is it you are going?”

“Up to the lock and weir,” said Scarlett. “You and Kitty can sit under the big medlar in the shade till we come back.”

“The lock and weir?” cried Aunt Sophia sharply. “That’s where the water comes running over through a lot of sticks, isn’t it?”

“Yes, aunt, that’s the place.”

“And you’ve seen it before?”

“Scores of times, dear.”

“Then why do you want to go now?”

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