"You're not getting what you might out of those brutes8. If you'd sing less and watch your work closer——"
"Ban't that, your honour—devil a bit will they go unless a man chants their proper song to 'em. 'Tis the nature of the earth, not the cattle."
"Nonsense. The land is no worse than the rest aloft there, that I've drained and pared and turned into fine fallow. The cattle go uneasily. I'll wager9 that fool blacksmith at Prince Town shoed them ill." He examined the hoof10 of an ox as he spoke11. The inside claws behind were left unprotected, but the outer ones had been carefully shod with iron. Malherb perceived that the work was good.
"Then he threw them carelessly, I'll wager. These big steers should be thrown with the greatest skill."
"To be just, your honour, 'twas very cleverly done, for I helped myself," answered Woodman.
The master turned away without another word. In his stormy mind of late there had been growing a darkness foreign to it. Dim suspicions, thrust aside only to reappear, shadowed his waking hours and haunted his pillow. From cursing ill success he had, by rare fits and starts, risen superior to his character and asked himself the reason for it. With impatience13 and an oath the answer was generally rapped out; but the question returned. In secret arcana of his heart, Maurice Malherb knew that he had acted with overmuch of haste. Thereupon he distributed the blame of his enterprise right and left: and chiefly he censured14 Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt, in that the knight15 had always prophesied16 smooth things. Yet honesty reminded Malherb that while pursuing the suggestions of local men where it pleased him to do so, he had widely departed from the beaten track of experience in many directions. He remembered a recent interview with the owner of Tor Royal, and the words bluntly uttered then: that in certain particulars of husbandry Malherb attempted the impossible. The impossible, indeed, had always possessed17 a fatal charm for him. He had of late despatched cattle to Bideford Fair and sheep to that at Bampton—a matter of considerable expense in those days. But no prize nor commendation rewarded his undertaking19. He was spending money still with but meagre return for it. He saw his means dwindling20, and already the future of his family depended largely upon the success of a midland canal, in which Maurice Malherb, fired by glowing promises, had embarked21 a very large proportion of his capital. Canals were the rage amongst speculators a hundred years ago, but few sensibly succeeded; many were no more than the schemes of rascals22 and existed only upon paper.
Now this man, conscious of gathering23 troubles, lifted a corner of the veil that hid his spirit and looked upon himself. The spectacle was disquieting24 and made him first impatient, then sad. Angry he often was, but sadness before this apparition25 proved something of a new emotion. For a few fleeting26 moments he glimpsed the real and perceived that his own stubborn pride and boyish vanity were near the roots of life's repeated failures. For once, in the glare of a mental lightning-flash, he saw and understood; then his troubled eyes caught sight of flocks feeding in the bosom27 of Cater's Beam; and Malherb's misery28 lifted. Scattered29 upon the hills like pearls, their fleeces washed to snowy whiteness by recent rain, the farmer saw his sheep; and they put heart into him, and dispelled30 the gloom begotten31 elsewhere. He turned his back on Harvey Woodman and failure; he stopped his ears to the cattle song, and looked out upon the Moor32.
"The music of a sheep-bell rings my fortune," he reflected. "There lies my strength; that wool means high prosperity presently and an issue out of these perplexities."
Now his flocks represented the counsel of other men.
A moment later the master went his way with mended spirits, and as he entered his farmyard a grumbler33 met him. Mr. Putt revealed a face red to his sandy locks, while the rims34 of his eyes were even pinker than usual. Consciousness of wrong stared out of his face and he spoke with great feeling.
"I does my stint35, God He knows. I work by night as well as day, but 'tis too much to be agged into a rage six times a week by they females, Dinah Beer an' t'other, just because I can't do miracles. Ban't my fault things go awry36 in the fowl-house; ban't in me to alter the laws of nature an'——"
"What's the matter? Despite your scanty37 vocabularies, all you men take a wearisome age to say what might be said in a minute. But if you had more words perhaps you would make shorter speeches."
"Ban't vocableries at all, axing your pardon, sir," said Tom Putt; "'tis rats—an' their breeding is no business of mine. I'm at 'em all the time wi' ferrets an' traps an' terriers; but they will have the chickens, for they'm legion. But what's the sense of Mary Woodman using sharp words to me? I do all that a man may. Look at the barnyard door next time you pass, your honour, an' you'll see varmints of all sizes an' shapes nailed against it. There's owls38 an' weasels, an' rats' tails by the score, an' martin-cats, an' hawks39. I can't do no more; an' Leaman Cloberry hisself couldn't."
"Go your way. I'm satisfied that you work hard enough. We shall get 'em under presently. As to Cloberry—the old moth-eaten knave—let him not show his face to me while he shoots foxes."
"There was a brave gert fox round here two nights since," said Putt. "I heard un bark, an' he got short in his temper, too, when he found the ducks was out of reach. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he was using the worst language he knowed. An' I told Miss Grace; an' her laughed an' said she could wish as he'd collared hold of a good fat bird for hisself and his family."
Mr. Malherb smiled grimly.
"Very right and proper," he said. "If any duck of mine will help a good fox to stand before hounds, he's welcome to it. Never touch a fox as you hope to be saved, Thomas Putt. Thank the Lord cub-hunting begins in a fortnight."
Cheered by this reflection, the master proceeded about his business, and Putt went the round of the mole-traps to find not a few of Mr. Cloberry's "velvet-coats" dangling40 from the hazel switches that he had set. As he returned he met Grace about to start on her ride, and hearing of Mr. Putt's speech with the master, she bid him take to heart what her father had said. Then, turning to John Lee as they trotted41 out of sight into the wilderness42, she continued upon the same matter.
"To think that within a few short weeks I may win my first brush! But a cub's little brush—it seems so unkind to kill the baby things. Still the baby hounds must be brought up in the way they should go—eh, John?"
But the young man's thoughts were far from foxes, because he was now to tell his lady of the conversation with Lovey Lee.
"You're sad," she said, as they rode over the Beam and descended43 into those heathery wastes that stretched south-east of it. "Even the thought of my first brush wins no enthusiasm from you. What's amiss, John? I fear that Lovey——?"
"Even so," he answered. "'Twas but the day before yesterday, and yet it seems long years since I heard it—my death-knell."
"What a word!"
"The true one. I only ask your leave to go. Bide18 here I cannot any more."
Grace looked very grave.
"What dreadful thing has fallen out?" she asked. "Whatever you have learned, it cannot make you other than you are. And it cannot surely make you love me less."
"My father was your father's brother, Grace—your Uncle Norrington, who died."
She did not answer, but stared before her. A flush lighted her cheek, but it was of exultation44 rather than dismay, "You're a Malherb! How glorious."
He shook his head very sadly.
"Not I. My mother's name and my mother's shame is all my portion."
"Poor John—'tis hard to smart for others so. Yet—you're my own cousin."
"Don't think it. These things run by law, not by blood. I'm mere45 fatherless dust—not worthy46 to be trod upon by you. I can't live for you now, Grace; I might die for you; 'tis the highest fate I hope for."
She reflected for some moments, then answered—
"I do not see that the case is much altered. We had guessed at this, John; it hardly hurts me. We are still as we were. There is nothing between us that prevents me from being your wife."
"How ignorant you are of this cold, cursed world! You argue like an angel might that had never been beyond the gate of heaven. But we must face facts now. All is changed."
"Except my word and yours. I've promised to wed12 you; and a Malherb does not break promises. Don't I love you dearly? Tell me that I do."
"Right well I know it."
"Then that's your weapon against this cold world you speak of. You've got to make the world warm for yourself—and me; you've got to make the world forget this accident of birth. How are you different? You were born like any other. A man may be born to power; but no man is born great. 'Tis but an extra handicap and obstacle at the start. Oh, my brains are quick as lightning to-day! You must conquer this thing, as many great men have; you must see that it might have been ten thousand times worse. Your father was my father's favourite brother. He was a soldier and died in the wars. Now 'tis for you to make my father your friend. Then he gets you a commission in the Army. Then you go to the wars, and—oh, no, no—to think that I can say that! I who still wear black for my brother!"
But he saw her vision of himself—grown great despite his birth. He beheld47 himself winning a place in the world even worthy to offer her. He was young and sanguine48, and her words had thrown a veil over the harsh truth. Yet his spirit sank.
"If such a thing could be!"
"Such things have been a thousand times. History is rich in them."
"I might do something, yet never anything great enough to offer to you."
"It must mean that you went far away, and I don't think I could let you go. And yet——"
"The thought is too grand even for hope. Who am I that I should ever win a commission in His Majesty's Army?"
"You are the son of a good soldier. The time cries for soldiers; but no, I couldn't let you—oh, dear, gentle John, I couldn't. Perchance Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt might—but I can't plot the details in cold blood, and I wish heartily49 I'd never thought of such a horrid50 idea at all. You shall not go to the wars for me. You must shine in a peaceful part."
"Fighting's the only sure quick way to success in these days. How to get Mr. Malherb's good word?"
"I've thought of that already. I've been thinking of it ever since you told me, and hating myself for thinking with such a hard heart. You've got a grandmother, and she is shrewdly suspected of a great crime. If, indeed, she robbed dear father, and you could prove it——"
"If I could find the amphora and bring it to him!"
"You must do so! That is what lies before you."
"But it may be all a dream, Grace."
"Then we must go on with the dream until we waken. Our love's no dream at least, and if one way won't serve, we will seek another."
"Honesty and right point the only way—for me: that leading out of your life."
"You are downcast and you try to make me so; but you shall not succeed, I promise you. Am I nobody, that you talk so easily of the road that leads away from me? Do you want to be off with the old love, John? Ah! Now I know what has fallen out: you've found a pretty girl and one easier to come by!"
"Don't—don't! 'Tis no time for jesting. My heart's breaking to see my duty so cruel plain."
"Your duty lies where your love is, and honour bids you keep your word to me before everything, John. And if you love me well enough to go into the world and fight for me, you shall; though 'tis my heart that will break, not yours, when I think of it. Thus it stands: you must win my father to your way and if good chance helps you to bring him back his treasure, then so much the more quickly will you come to your reward."
"It may be so. Certainly there is some place that my grandmother used to haunt by night, and I know the direction."
"As a child she nearly killed you for spying; now, as a man, you must do the like again to better purpose. She can't whip you now."
"You will jest."
"The amphora is no jest. Secure it, and my father is under an eternal obligation."
"Would you have me ask for his daughter?"
"No, indeed; he would fling the amphora back in your face. But you ask—oh, that I should say it—for a commission. Yet, please God, the war will be done; and yet, again, if it is, whence are you going to win glory?"
"Glory!" He sighed and said no more.
"To be frank," continued Grace, "dear father would not keep the amphora now. He loves beautiful things, but he loves his farm better. He needs money. He looks so far ahead, that the present often finds him very straitened. Just now 'tis money he most wants, and you have to begin the campaign by finding twenty thousand pounds for him."
"I'll do my best—the Lord helping51."
"And think not, dear John, that I am light of heart because my tongue wags so fast. I laugh, but my spirit is low enough when I remember all that these things must mean. Your life will be full of fret52 and fever and action; I shall have nothing but thought and hope to fill mine."
"I wish I could believe you. Your dangers will be real ones. If I departed, who is to stand between you and Peter Norcot? Since I am to fight, 'tis your battle, not the King's, that I long to enter into."
Grace shook her head.
"Have no fear for me, John; I can take good care of myself—of that I do assure you. Now tell me that no maid more practical and sensible and brave than I, ever set sail to face a sea of troubles."
Then fell silence between them for a long season, and there was no sound but the rasp of the dry, burnt heather twigs53 against their horses' feet.
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1
plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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steers
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| n.阉公牛，肉用公牛( steer的名词复数 )v.驾驶( steer的第三人称单数 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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reclaim
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| v.要求归还，收回；开垦 | |
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7
accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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8
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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9
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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10
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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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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12
wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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censured
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| v.指责，非难，谴责( censure的过去式 ) | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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18
bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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dwindling
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| adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
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21
embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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22
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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23
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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disquieting
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| adj.令人不安的，令人不平静的v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的现在分词 ) | |
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25
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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26
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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28
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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29
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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30
dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
begotten
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| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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33
grumbler
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| 爱抱怨的人，发牢骚的人 | |
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rims
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| n.（圆形物体的）边( rim的名词复数 )；缘；轮辋；轮圈 | |
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35
stint
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| v.节省，限制，停止；n.舍不得化，节约，限制；连续不断的一段时间从事某件事 | |
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36
awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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37
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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38
owls
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| n.猫头鹰( owl的名词复数 ) | |
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39
hawks
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| 鹰( hawk的名词复数 )； 鹰派人物，主战派人物 | |
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40
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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41
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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42
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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43
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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44
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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45
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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46
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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47
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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48
sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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49
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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50
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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51
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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52
fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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53
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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