Read Lawyer Quince Page 2

subjectafter you'd gone I found that I was wrong."

  "You don't say so?" said the farmer, uneasily. "If I've done wrong I'monly doing what you told me I could do."

  "Mistakes will happen with the best of us," said the shoemaker, loudly,for the benefit of one or two murmurers. "I've known a man to marry awoman for her money before now and find out afterward that she hadn't gotany."

  One unit of the group detached itself and wandered listlessly toward thegate.

  "Well, I hope I ain't done nothing wrong," said Mr. Rose, anxiously."You gave me the advice; there's men here as can prove it. I don't wantto do nothing agin the law. What had I better do?"

  "Well, if I was you," said Mr. Quince, concealing his satisfaction withdifficulty, "I should let him out at once and beg his pardon, and say youhope he'll do nothing about it. I'll put in a word for you if you likewith old Pascoe."

  Mr. Rose coughed and eyed him queerly.

  "You're a Briton," he said, warmly. "I'll go and let him out at once."

  He strode off to the stable, despite the protests of Mr. Hogg, and,standing by the door, appeared to be deep in thought; then he came backslowly, feeling in his pockets as he walked.

  "William," he said, turning toward Mr. Hogg, "I s'pose you didn't happento notice where I put that key?"

  "That I didn't," said Mr. Hogg, his face clearing suddenly.

  "I had it in my hand not half an hour ago," said the agitated Mr. Rose,thrusting one hand into his trouser-pocket and groping. "It can't befar."

  Mr. Quince attempted to speak, and, failing, blew his nose violently.

  "My memory ain't what it used to be," said the farmer. "Howsomever, Idare say it'll turn up in a day or two."

  "You--you'd better force the door," suggested Mr. Quince, struggling topreserve an air of judicial calm.

  "No, no," said Mr. Rose; "I ain't going to damage my property like that.I can lock my stable-door and unlock it when I like; if people get inthere as have no business there, it's their look-out."

  "That's law," said Mr. Hogg; "I'll eat my hat if it ain't."

  "Do you mean to tell me you've really lost the key?" demanded Mr. Quince,eyeing the farmer sternly.

  "Seems like it," said Mr. Rose. "However, he won't come to no hurt.I'll put in some bread and water for him, same as you advised me to."

  Mr. Quince mastered his wrath by an effort, and with no sign ofdiscomposure moved away without making any reference to the identity ofthe unfortunate in the stable."

  "Good-night," said the farmer, "and thank you for coming and giving methe fresh advice. It ain't everybody that 'ud ha' taken the trouble.If I hadn't lost that key----"

  The shoemaker scowled, and with the two fat books under his arm passedthe listening neighbours with the air of a thoughtful man out for anevening stroll. Once inside his house, however, his manner changed, theattitude of Mrs. Quince demanding, at any rate, a show of concern.

  "It's no good talking," he said at last. "Ned shouldn't have gone there,and as for going to law about it, I sha'n't do any such thing; I shouldnever hear the end of it. I shall just go on as usual, as if nothing hadhappened, and when Rose is tired of keeping him there he must let himout. I'll bide my time."

  Mrs. Quince subsided into vague mutterings as to what she would do if shewere a man, coupled with sundry aspersions upon the character, looks, andfamily connections of Farmer Rose, which somewhat consoled her for beingwhat she was.

  "He has always made jokes about your advice," she said at length, "andnow everybody'll think he's right. I sha'n't be able to look anybody inthe face. I should have seen through it at once if it had been me. I'mgoing down to give him a bit o' my mind."

  "You stay where you are," said Mr. Quince, sharply, "and, mind, you arenot to talk about it to anybody. Farmer Rose 'ud like nothing betterthan to see us upset about it. I ain't done with him yet. You wait."

  Mrs. Quince, having no option, waited, but nothing happened. Thefollowing day found Ned Quince still a prisoner, and, considering thecircumstances, remarkably cheerful. He declined point-blank to renouncehis preposterous attentions, and said that, living on the premises, hefelt half like a son-in-law already. He also complimented the farmerupon the quality of his bread.

  The next morning found him still unsubdued, and, under interrogation fromthe farmer, he admitted that he liked it, and said that the feeling ofbeing at home was growing upon him.

  "If you're satisfied, I am," said Mr. Rose, grimly. "I'll keep you heretill you promise; mind that."

  "It's a nobleman's life," said Ned, peeping through the window, "and I'mbeginning to like you as much as my real father."

  "I don't want none o' yer impudence," said the farmer, reddening.

  "'None o' yer impudence,' said the farmer."]

  "You'll like me better when you've had me here a little longer," saidNed; "I shall grow on you. Why not be reasonable and make up your mindto it? Celia and I have."

  "I'm going to send Celia away on Saturday," said Mr. Rose; "make yourselfhappy and comfortable in here till then. If you'd like another crust o'bread or an extra half pint o' water you've only got to mention it. Whenshe's gone I'll have a hunt for that key, so as you can go back to yourfather and help him to understand his law-books better."

  He strode off with the air of a conqueror, and having occasion to go tothe village looked in at the shoe-maker's window as he passed and smiledbroadly. For years Little Haven had regarded Mr. Quince with awe, asbeing far too dangerous a man for the lay mind to tamper with, and at onestroke the farmer had revealed the hollowness of his pretensions. Onlythat morning the wife of a labourer had called and asked him to hurry themending of a pair of boots. She was a voluble woman, and having overcomeher preliminary nervousness more than hinted that if he gave less time tothe law and more to his trade it would be better for himself andeverybody else.

  Miss Rose accepted her lot in a spirit of dutiful resignation, and onSaturday morning after her father's admonition not to forget that thecoach left the White Swan at two sharp, set off to pay a few farewellvisits. By half-past twelve she had finished, and Lawyer Quince becomingconscious of a shadow on his work looked up to see her standing beforethe window. He replied to a bewitching smile with a short nod and becameintent upon his work again.

  For a short time Celia lingered, then to his astonishment she opened thegate and walked past the side of the house into the garden. With growingastonishment he observed her enter his tool-shed and close the doorbehind her.

  For ten minutes he worked on and then, curiosity getting the better ofhim, he walked slowly to the tool-shed and, opening the door a littleway, peeped in. It was a small shed, crowded with agriculturalimplements. The floor was occupied by an upturned wheelbarrow, andsitting on the barrow, with her soft cheek leaning against the wall, satMiss Rose fast asleep. Mr. Quince coughed several times, each coughbeing louder than the last, and then, treading softly, was about toreturn to the workshop when the girl stirred and muttered in her sleep.At first she was unintelligible, then he distinctly caught the words"idiot" and "blockhead."

  "She's dreaming of somebody," said Mr. Quince to himself with conviction.

  "Wonder who it is?"

  "Can't see--a thing--under--his--nose," murmured the fair sleeper.

  "Celia!" said Mr. Quince, sharply. "Celia!"

  He took a hoe from the wall and prodded her gently with the handle. Asingularly vicious expression marred the soft features, but that was all.

  "Ce-lia!" said the shoemaker, who feared sun-stroke.

  "Fancy if he--had--a moment's common sense," murmured Celia, drowsily,"and locked--the door."

  Lawyer Quince dropped the hoe with a clatter and stood regarding heropen-mouthed. He was a careful man with his property, and the stout doorboasted a good lock. He sped to the house on tip-toe, and taking the keyfrom its nail on the kitchen dresser returned to the shed, and afteranother puzzled glance at the sleeping girl locked her in.

  For half an hour
he sat in silent enjoyment of the situation--enjoymentwhich would have been increased if he could have seen Mr. Rose standingat the gate of Holly Farm, casting anxious glances up and down the road.Celia's luggage had gone down to the White Swan, and an excellent coldluncheon was awaiting her attention in the living-room.

  Half-past one came and no Celia, and five minutes