Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt loudly applauded the decision to which his guest had come, for it was the knight's conviction that Dartmoor's high places offered health, work, and reward to all men. Himself a friend of the Prince Regent, he commanded attention from other personages also, and his own estates by the new settlement of Prince Town grew rapidly; his own enterprises awoke a sanguine2 spirit in others.
Three days after the thunderstorm, Mr. Malherb sat with the High Bailiff of Dartmoor at the Duchy of Cornwall office; and, such was his impetuous energy, that within two months the walls of Fox Tor Farm began to rise. From Lew Trenchard came the slates3 (a circumstance that set men wondering, for reed thatch4 covered most heads upon the Moor1 in those days); and teams of a dozen oxen struggled over the waste, dragging sledges5 laden6 with stone. Roads there were none, and no wheeled vehicle had ever entered that wild valley. Malherb took up his temporary residence at an ancient tenement7 farm within five miles of his land, and daily he rode to the scene of action, planned and plotted, ordered and countermanded8, now entered upon passing periods of doubt, now threw aside his dilemmas9 and turned to problems more easy of solution.
In the placid10 homestead beside Exe awoke stir and bustle11 too, for the farm on the Moor was now progressing rapidly, and Annabel Malherb and her daughter Grace had learnt that their new dwelling12 was to be ready within a year—a time quite short in those leisurely13 days for the transference of a home. Mother and daughter contemplated14 the great change brooding over their existence, with lively hopes and fears. The enterprise loomed15 tremendous to their simple minds; but both trusted the master in their hearts, if at times their heads whispered treachery.
The wife was of an ancient pattern, and set high religious significance on marriage vows16; the child loved her stormy father, and bravely stood for him in the face of a critical and unsympathetic world. To Malherb's faults these women blinded themselves; his virtues17 they sang at all seasons. From Carew stock the matron sprang, and her noble blood, her steadfastness18 of view, her large trust in the goodness of Divine purpose, was all her dowry, for wealth she had none. Grace Malherb resembled her mother in mind and bearing. She was a simple, generous-hearted maiden19, and her life had passed without storm or stress. She moved in the scented20 Devon lanes; she gathered the eglantine and wild roses in spring, at autumn plucked the scarlet21 corals of the iris22 or those glimmering23 green mosses24 that made fair vestment for the red earth. But now her eyes were lifted to Dartmoor, where its hills rose shadowy across the western sky; and awe25 and wonder widened the limits of her mind, and mystery awoke in dreams and added beauty to her face.
The imperious farmer had a whim26 to keep his wife and daughter away from their future home until it should be ready to receive them; and since they were wholly ignorant of the great table-land, the contrast between Fox Tor with its adjacencies and the meadow farm by Exe was destined27 to come upon both women with a force almost bewildering. Even to the thin voices of the labouring men, their chastened outlook upon life and their estimate of happiness, all was changed.
The attitude of Annabel and Grace Malherb upon this radical28 transformation29 will appear. From agricultural failure and depression in the valleys they were at least well contented30 to escape.
On an autumn day they walked and talked together upon a meadow path by the river. Maurice Malherb was returning from the Moor for a while to look after his business, and here his wife and daughter waited for him.
"That your father has built a house is well," declared Mrs. Malherb, "for, come what may to his many projects, an abiding31 place of our own will be a source of peace to me."
"And no more coal bills!" cried Grace. "Father has said that we shall dig our coal out of the earth within sight of home."
"'Tis peat he means—a very good form of warmth—yet I doubt for the cooking."
"Barbara would have made shift with it. Oh, mother, what shall we do without her?"
"I cannot guess yet."
"To think of all new servants—all new—but that horrid32 old Kek!"
Mrs. Malherb smiled.
"Kekewich is a sort of skeleton at life's feast. The sour truth and nothing but the truth he utters. Yet truth's a tonic33, and your father knows it."
"Truth is often very impertinent—especially as Kek tells it. If any other man spoke34 to father as he does, he would soon be measuring his length on the ground."
"It shows my husband's marvellous judgment35 that Kekewich never angers him."
"To me the man is merely a piece of earth animated37. Such stuff would never have grown a good cabbage, so some wicked fairy took it and made Kek. I'm sure he'll be a wet blanket on hope, and, according to father, the mists are wet blankets enough up there."
"Kekewich suffers much pain of body, and it makes him harsh. He is an honest man, and your father gets good out of him. That is enough for us. He is at least the soul of common sense."
But Grace shook her head.
"'Tis no more common sense to look always on the dark side of things than, like dear father, to be over-hopeful."
"The golden mean——" murmured her mother.
"Rainbow gold," answered the girl. "Human nature cannot find it. What——? But here comes Kek himself. He looks spry and peart for once. That bodes38 trouble for somebody."
A gate opened upon the path, and in the red-gold light of evening a man approached them. The ruddy earth had dyed his garments to its rich hue39, had soaked into his clothes and body. He seemed incarnate40 clay. His frame had crooked41, his hair was grizzled. His mouth was like the stamp of a gouge42 upon putty, and at first glance a grin appeared to sit upon his face; but, better seen, one noted43 that the distortion was accidental, and that in reality his features were stamped with the eternal sadness of suffering.
"Three barrow pigs be just drownded," he said. "I seed 'em fighting in the water; then they went down an' comed up again, an' squeaked44 proper till the river chucked 'em. 'Tis always what I said would happen."
"Where was Bob?" asked Grace, with much concern. "The blame will fall upon him."
"So it will, but that won't bring the pigs alive again; though they'll do very well for common people to eat if we can get 'em ashore45 inside twenty-four hours."
The sound of a horse's hoofs46 broke upon the silence that followed this bad news. Then Maurice Malherb appeared, dismounted, kissed his wife and daughter, and nodded to the servant.
"All goes forward most prosperously," he said. "Since I promised the foreman ten pounds if the chimney-pots were on by Christmas, the place grows like honeycomb in June."
"Why, 'twas to be finished by then in any case, according to contract, my dear!"
"True; but you know what these people are."
"You be one as would pay for honesty an' make it marketable, 'Tis a wrong way, an' don't do the world no good," grumbled47 Kekewich.
"We must oil the wheels of progress, Kek," said his master. "I want to begin. I want to fight next winter up there."
"Best way to fight Dartmoor winters be to flee from 'em," answered the old man.
"Nay48, nay—that's a coward's policy. I'm going to do things on Dartmoor that never have been done yet. I've not farmed here all these years for nothing."
"No, by Gor! you've not."
Annabel Malherb and Grace now turned homeward, and the farmer walked slowly beside Kekewich.
"Up aloft they make a great many mistakes. I mean the folk of the Moor. But to see error is to avoid it with a man of sense. And I've let the people find out already that they will have a powerful friend in me. I learn from them what to do, as well as what not to do. We shall want all kinds to help us. I believe in a big staff on a farm—especially a grazing farm. The old, the strong, the young—light work for the men that are three score and ten, and worn with a life of labour, though useful yet. And none shall have tail corn, as too often happens up there, for who can do man's work on pig's food? And my cider shall be cider, as it always has been—not the vinegar they call cider on Dartmoor."
"'Ess—you'll make the place a hospital for them past work—same as this be."
"Not I. But I'll keep self-respect in my people. The women shall have sixpence a day out of doors. The labourer is worthy49 of her hire."
"You'll never learn sense. You comed in the world to waste money, not to make it, as I've always told 'e. Sixpence a day for females! What next?"
"'Cast thy bread on the waters.' I'm a working Christian50, and a lesson to you, heathen that you are."
"A working Christian ban't no better for being a fool. What's the sense of casting your bread 'pon the water while your wife an' maiden be hungry upon the shore?"
"Hungry! You're mad!"
"'Twill come to hunger. You'd spoil any market—a very good, open-hearted gentleman, us all knows; but sixpence a day for outdoor females! 'Tis all summed up in that. There ban't a outdoor woman in the world worth more'n fourpence."
"Ask their husbands. You're an old bachelor."
"'Ess—thank God!"
"Some sloes there are that even winter will never sweeten; and you are such a one. How fares the rheumatism51?"
"A sleeping dog for the minute. He was gnawing52 his bone proper last week though. Maybe Dartymoor will lessen53 my pangs54."
"I hope so with all my heart. 'Tis the least it can do for you, seeing how much you are going to do for it. Such men as you are greatly wanted there."
"Such men as me take blamed good care to bide55 down in the country—unless they've got reckless masters," said Kekewich.
Then he took Malherb's horse and departed, while anon the farmer discoursed56 very learnedly to his wife concerning Dartmoor. But his knowledge was borrowed; his enthusiasm was no substitute for personal experience. Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt loved the Moor like a mistress. To her faults he was blind; and he had now inspired his friend with kindred ardour.
"I long to begin looking for men, but 'tis too soon yet," Malherb declared. "In a few months, however, I shall have work for half a dozen."
"And a dairymaid, remember, since you design a complete change, and will not keep our Annie," said Mrs. Malherb.
"Yes, the women understand calves57 and cows wonderfully well up there. Such sheds as I am building—like the cloisters58 of a cathedral! But stock on Dartmoor in winter needs snug59 houses and generous treatment."
The women caught his mood, and prattled60 as though they already saw prosperity beckoning61 out of the future.
"After the war 'twill all go well, I pray," said Mrs. Malherb. "All human affairs languish62 just now; but when the war is ended and Noel comes home—— Peter Norcot, from the Woollen Factory at Chagford, was here in doleful dumps yesterday. The East Indian Company, who is their first customer——"
"Did you see him, Grace?" interrupted Maurice.
The girl blushed and shook her head, whereupon her father's face grew dark.
"For another year you shall have your way, Miss. Then—— I have said it. Then comes the pinch, and somebody will have to learn the duty of a child to its parent."
"I'll not marry with Peter—never," she said quietly. "He's no man—a mere36 walking, talking chatterbox—a packman, with nonsensical rags and tags of rhymes and jests for his stock-in-trade. He would drive me mad with his borrowed wit."
"We shall see," said Malherb. "His wit may be borrowed; his wealth is his own. Now go you and get a bottle of the Burgundy. We'll not argue—we love one another too dearly."
But though he spoke calmly, his mood changed, and the infernal temper that cursed his life, and lurked63 in his warm, big heart like a wasp64 in a rose, broke forth65. He heard the dismal66 tale of the drowned pigs, dashed out of doors with his horsewhip, and roared for the lad Robert. When Grace returned with his wine, her father had disappeared; her mother, grown white and careworn67 suddenly, stood by the window.
Shrieks68 echoed through the autumn gloaming and rang against the walls of the farm; while, round a corner, the unfortunate youth whose errors were responsible for his master's loss lifted up a bitter voice and yelled for mercy under the lash69.
"That'll teach you, you idle scoundrel! If you'd been drowned, none would have cared a curse. But my pigs—there, and there, and there; and never show your ugly face to me again, or I'll——"
Bob fled howling, and through a night of smart and sleeplessness70 wriggled71 in much misery72. But only the present suffering of his back troubled him, for he knew what day would bring as surely as it brought the sun.
He met his master going the rounds before breakfast, and touched his hat and fell into a great simulated lameness73; whereon Malherb gave him "Good morning" and threw him a shilling.
"Mind the pigs closer henceforth, you vagabond," he said; then added to himself as he saw the boy's rueful countenance74, "and I will mind my temper closer, please God."
Kekewich appeared from a barn as the shilling was picked up.
"Ah," he said, when Bob had departed, "usual way. Even the misfortune of they pigs have cost 'e a coin more'n there was any call to pay."
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1
moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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slates
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| （旧时学生用以写字的）石板( slate的名词复数 )； 板岩； 石板瓦； 石板色 | |
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thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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sledges
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| n.雪橇，雪车( sledge的名词复数 )v.乘雪橇( sledge的第三人称单数 )；用雪橇运载 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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tenement
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| n.公寓；房屋 | |
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countermanded
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| v.取消（命令），撤回( countermand的过去分词 ) | |
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dilemmas
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| n.左右为难( dilemma的名词复数 )；窘境，困境 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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steadfastness
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| n.坚定，稳当 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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24
mosses
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| n. 藓类, 苔藓植物 名词moss的复数形式 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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38
bodes
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| v.预示，预告，预言( bode的第三人称单数 )；等待，停留( bide的过去分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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40
incarnate
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| adj.化身的，人体化的，肉色的 | |
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41
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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gouge
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| v.凿；挖出；n.半圆凿；凿孔；欺诈 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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45
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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47
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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48
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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49
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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51
rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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52
gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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53
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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54
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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55
bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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56
discoursed
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| 演说（discourse的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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57
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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cloisters
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| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
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59
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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60
prattled
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的过去式和过去分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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61
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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62
languish
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| vi.变得衰弱无力，失去活力，（植物等）凋萎 | |
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63
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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64
wasp
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| n.黄蜂，蚂蜂 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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careworn
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| adj.疲倦的，饱经忧患的 | |
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68
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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69
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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70
sleeplessness
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| n.失眠，警觉 | |
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71
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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72
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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73
lameness
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| n. 跛, 瘸, 残废 | |
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74
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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