OLD WAYS AND NEW WAYS.
Illustrationr. Preston was now in his new house at Hollingford; Mr. Sheepshanks having entered into at the house of his married daughter, who in the town. His had with energy into all manner of improvements; and among others, he to a piece of waste and land of Lord Cumnor's, which was close to Squire Hamley's property—that very piece for which he had had the Government grant, but which now neglected, and only drained, with of tiles, and lines of telling of plans. It was not often that the Squire in this direction now-a-days; but the of a man who had been the squire's in those more days when the Hamleys to "preserve," was close to the rush-grown ground. This old and was ill, and had sent a message up to the Hall, to see the Squire: not to any secret, or to say anything particular, but only from the loyalty, which it to the man as if it would be a to shake the hand, and look once more into the of the lord and master he had served, and his own had for so many generations. And the Squire was as alive as old Silas to the of the tie that them. Though he the thought, and still more, should the of the piece of land, on the of which Silas's stood, the Squire ordered his horse, and off half-an-hour of the message. As he near the spot he he the of tools, and the of many voices, just as he used to them a year or two before. He with surprise. Yes! Instead of the still he had expected, there was the of iron, the of the of barrows-ful of soil—the and of labourers. But not on his land—better and trouble by than the common on which the men were, in fact, employed. He it was Lord Cumnor's property; and he Lord Cumnor and his family had gone up in the world ("the Whig rascals!"), in and in station, as the Hamleys had gone down. But all the same—in of long facts, and in of reason—the Squire's anger rose high at the of his neighbour doing what he had been unable to do, and he a Whig, and his family only in the since Queen Anne's time. He so as to wonder they might not—the he meant—avail themselves of his tiles, so close to hand. All these thoughts, regrets, and were in his mind as he up to the he was to, and gave his in to a little lad, who had his morning's and in playing at "houses" with a still sister, with some of the Squire's neglected tiles. But he was old Silas's grandson, and he might have the red to pieces—a whole stack—one by one, and the Squire would have said little or nothing. It was only that he would not one to a of Lord Cumnor's. No! not one.
Old Silas in a of closet, opening out of the family living-room. The small window that gave it light looked right on to the "moor," as it was called; and by day the check was so that he might watch the progress of the labour. Everything about the old man was clean, if coarse; and, with Death, the leveller, so close at hand, it was the who the advances, and put out his hand to the Squire.
"I you'd come, Squire. Your father came for to see my father as he a-dying."
"Come, come, my man!" said the Squire, easily affected, as he always was. "Don't talk of dying, we shall soon have you out, fear. They've sent you up some from the Hall, as I 'em, haven't they?"
"Ay, ay, I've had all as I want for to eat and to drink. The and Master Roger was here yesterday."
"Yes, I know."
"But I'm a nearer Heaven to-day, I am. I should like you to look after th' in th' West Spinney, Squire; them gorse, you know, where th' old had her hole—her as give 'em so many a run. You'll mind it, Squire, though you was but a lad. I laugh to think on her yet." And, with a weak attempt at a laugh, he got himself into a fit of coughing, which the squire, who he would his again. His daughter-in-law came in at the sound, and told the Squire that he had these coughing-bouts very frequently, and that she he would go off in one of them long. This opinion of hers was spoken out the old man, who now and upon his pillow. Poor people the and the approach of death in a much more manner than is among more folk. The Squire was at her hard-heartedness, as he it; but the old man himself had much from his daughter-in-law; and what she had just said was no more news to him than the that the sun would to-morrow. He was more to go on with his story.
"Them navvies—I call 'em some on 'em is strangers, though some on 'em is th' men as was off your own works, squire, when there came orders to stop 'em last fall—they're a-pulling up and to light their fire for up their messes. It's a long way off to their homes, and they mostly here; and there'll be nothing of a left, if you don't see after 'em. I I should like to tell ye I died. Parson's been here; but I did na tell him. He's all for the earl's folk, and he'd not ha' heeded. It's the as put him into his church, I reckon, for he said what a thing it were for to see so much a-given to the poor, and he said o' th' when your were agait, Squire."
This long speech had been by many a and for breath; and having delivered himself of what was on his mind, he his to the wall, and appeared to be going to sleep. Presently he himself with a start:—
"I know I him well, I did. But he were after pheasants' eggs, and I didn't know he were an orphan. Lord, me!"
"He's on David Morton, the cripple, as used to go about vermin," the woman.
"Why, he died long ago—twenty year, I should think," the Squire.
"Ay, but when goes off i' this way to sleep after a of talking he to be on old times. He'll not up yet, sir; you'd best if you'd like to stay," she continued, as she into the house-place and a chair with her apron. "He was very particular in me wake him if he were asleep, and you or Mr. Roger was to call. Mr. Roger said he'd be again this morning—but he'll likely sleep an hour or more, if he's let alone."
"I wish I'd said good-by, I should like to have done that."
"He off so sudden," said the woman. "But if you'd be pleased to have said it, Squire, I'll him up a bit."
"No, no!" the Squire called out as the woman was going to be as good as her word. "I'll come again, to-morrow. And tell him I was sorry; for I am indeed. And be sure and send to the Hall for anything you want! Mr. Roger is coming, is he? He'll me word how he is, later on. I should like to have him good-by."
So, to the child who had his horse, the Squire mounted. He still a moment, looking at the work going on him, and then at his own half-completed drainage. It was a pill. He had to from Government, in the instance; and then his wife had him to the step; and after it was once taken, he was as proud as be of the only to the of progress he in his life. He had read and the thoroughly, if also very slowly, the time his wife had been him. He was well up in agriculture, if in nothing else; and at one time he had taken the lead among the landowners, when he tile-drainage. In those days people used to speak of Squire Hamley's hobby; and at market ordinaries, or dinners, they setting him off on long of from the different on the which he had read. And now the all around him were draining—draining; his to Government was on all the same, though his were stopped, and his tiles in value. It was not a consideration, and the Squire was almost to with his shadow. He wanted a for his ill-humour; and the on his covers, which he had about not a of an hour before, he the men at work on Lord Cumnor's land. Just he got up to them he Mr. Preston, also on horseback, come to his labourers. The Squire did not know him personally, but from the agent's manner of speaking, and the that was paid to him, Mr. Hamley saw that he was a person. So he the agent:—"I your pardon, I you are the manager of these works?"
Mr. Preston replied,—"Certainly. I am that and many other besides, at your service. I have succeeded Mr. Sheepshanks in the management of my lord's property. Mr. Hamley of Hamley, I believe?"
The Squire stiffly. He did not like his name to be asked or upon in that manner. An equal might who he was, or him, but, till he himself, an had no right to do more than address him as "sir." That was the Squire's of etiquette.
"I am Mr. Hamley of Hamley. I you are as yet of the of Lord Cumnor's land, and so I will you that my property at the yonder—just where you see the in the ground."
"I am perfectly with that fact, Mr. Hamley," said Mr. Preston, a little at the to him. "But may I why my attention is called to it just now?"
The Squire was to over; but he to keep his in. The was very much to be respected, for it was a great one. There was something in the and well-dressed agent's and manner to the squire, and it was not by an of the on which Mr. Preston was with his own ill-groomed and cob.
"I have been told that your men out do not respect these boundaries, but are in the of up from my to light their fires."
"It is possible they may!" said Mr. Preston, his eyebrows, his manner being more than his words. "I they think no great of it. However, I'll inquire."
"Do you my word, sir?" said the Squire, his till she to about. "I tell you I've it only this last half-hour."
"I don't to your word, Mr. Hamley; it's the last thing I should think of doing. But you must my saying that the which you have twice up for the of your statement, 'that you have it the last half-hour,' is not so as to the possibility of a mistake."
"I wish you'd only say in plain language that you my word," said the Squire, and his horsewhip. "I can't make out what you mean—you use so many words."
"Pray don't your temper, sir. I said I should inquire. You have not the men up yourself, or you would have named it. I, surely, may the of your until I have some inquiry; at any rate, that is the I shall pursue, and if it you offence, I shall be sorry, but I shall do it just the same. When I am that has been done to your property, I shall take steps to prevent it for the future, and of course, in my lord's name, I shall pay you compensation—it may amount to half-a-crown." He added these last in a tone, as if to himself, with a on his face.
"Quiet, mare, quiet," said the Squire, totally that he was the of her movements by the way he was her reins; and also, perhaps, he the to himself.
Neither of them saw Roger Hamley, who was just then them with long, steps. He had his father from the door of old Silas's cottage, and, as the was still asleep, he was to speak to his father, and was near now to the next words.
"I don't know who you are, but I've land-agents who were gentlemen, and I've some who were not. You to this last set, man," said the squire, "that you do. I should like to try my on you for your insolence."
"Pray, Mr. Hamley," Mr. Preston, coolly, "curb your a little, and reflect. I sorry to see a man of your age in such a passion:"—moving a little off, however, but more with a to save the man from his threat into execution, out of a to the and it would cause, than from any personal dread. Just at this moment Roger Hamley came close up. He was a little, and his were very and dark; but he spoke enough.
"Mr. Preston, I can what you by your last words. But, remember, my father is a of age and position, and not to as to the management of his from men like you."
The Burning of the Gorse.
The Burning of the Gorse.
Click to ENLARGE
"I him to keep his men off my land," said the Squire to his son—his wish to well in Roger's opinion his a little; but though his might be a little calmer, there were all other of present—the complexion, the hands, the cloud in his eyes. "He refused, and my word."
Mr. Preston to Roger, as if from Philip to Philip sober, and spoke in a of explanation, which, though not in words, was in manner.
"Your father has me—perhaps it is no wonder," trying to convey, by a look of at the son, his opinion that the father was in no to reason. "I to do what was just and right. I only as to the past wrong-doing; your father took at this," and then he his shoulders, and his in a manner he had learnt in France.
"At any rate, sir! I can the manner and to my father, which I you use when I came up, with the you ought to have to a man of his age and position. As to the of the trespass—"
"They are up all the gorse, Roger—there'll be no for game soon," put in the Squire.
Roger to his father, but took up his speech at the point it was at the interruption.
"I will into it myself at a moment; and if I that such or has been committed, of I shall that you will see it put a stop to. Come, father! I am going to see old Silas—perhaps you don't know that he is very ill." So he to the Squire away to prevent words. He was not successful.
Mr. Preston was by Roger's and manner, and after them this shaft, in the shape of a loud soliloquy,—
"Position, indeed! What are we to think of the position of a man who like these without the cost, and comes to a stand-still, and has to turn off his just at the of winter, leaving—"
They were too off to the rest. The Squire was on the point of this, but Roger took of the of the old mare, and her over some of the ground, as if to her into sure footing, but, in reality, he was to prevent the of the quarrel. It was well that the him, and was, indeed, old to to dancing; for Mr. Hamley hard at the reins, and at last out with an oath,—"Damn it, Roger! I'm not a child; I won't be as such. Leave go, I say!"
Roger let go; they were now on ground, and he did not wish any to think that he was any over his father; and this to his did more to the Squire than anything else have just then.
"I know I them off—what I do? I'd no more money for their wages; it's a to me, as you know. He doesn't know, no one knows, but I think your mother would, how it cut me to turn 'em off just winter set in. I many a night of it, and I gave them what I had—I did, indeed. I hadn't got money to pay 'em, but I had three fattened, and gave every of meat to the men, and I let 'em go into the and what was fallen, and I at their off old branches, and now to have it up against me by that cur—that servant. But I'll go on with the works, by ——, I will, if only to him. I'll him who I am. My position, indeed! A Hamley of Hamley takes a higher position than his master. I'll go on with the works, see if I don't! I'm paying one and two hundred a year on Government money. I'll some more if I go to the Jews; Osborne has me the way, and Osborne shall pay for it—he shall. I'll not put up with insults. You shouldn't have stopped me, Roger! I wish to I'd the fellow!"
He was himself again into an rage, painful to a son to witness; but just then the little of old Silas, who had the Squire's his visit to the man, came up, breathless:
"Please, sir, please, squire, has sent me; has up sudden, and says he's dying, and would you come; she says he'd take it as a compliment, she's sure."
So they to the cottage, the Squire speaking a word, but as if out of a and set in a still and place.
