Arthur Quiller-Couch

“ John Peter received Captain Cai in his workshop—a room ample enough for a studio and lit by a large window that faced north, but darkened by cobwebs, dirty, and incredibly littered with odds and ends of futile apparatus. He put a watchmaker's glass to his eye and peered long into the bowels of the musical box.
"The works are clogged with dust," he announced. "Fairly caked with oil and dirt. No wonder it won't go."
"But it does go," objected Captain Cai.
"You don't tell me! . . . Well, you'd best let me take out the works, any way, and give them a bath of paraffin." ”

“ Off the Committee Ship, a cable's length up the river, the penultimate race (ran-dan pulling-boats) was finishing amid banging of guns and bursts of music from the "Troy Town Band," saluting the winner with "See the Conquering Hero Comes," the second boat with strains consecrated to first and second prize-winners in Troy harbour since days beyond the span of living memory, even as all races start to the less classical but none the less immemorial air of "Off She goes to Wallop the Cat."
The crowd parted and made passage for Mrs Bosenna to descend the slip-way: for Troy is always polite. ”

“ It—it humiliates you."
"We were a pair of fools," conceded Cai.
"What men cannot see somehow," she went on angrily, "is that it doesn't end there. That kind of thing humiliates a woman; especially when—when she happens to be cast on her own resources and it is everything to her to find a man she can trust."
Mrs Bosenna threw into these words so much feeling that Cai in a moment forgot self. His awkwardness fell from him as a garment.
"You may trust me, ma'am. Truly you may. Tell me only what I can do." ”

“ Mr Sobey touched his forelock again and grinned, as who should add, "You and me, ma'am, meets in strange places."
"Well, I never! . . . How things do turn out!" It crossed Mrs Bosenna's mind that on the last occasion of her addressing a word to Walter Sobey he had been employed by her to cart manure for her roses: and across this recollection floated a sense of money wasted—for to what service could Walter Sobey, inhabitant of a three-roomed cottage, put a two-handled loving-cup embossed in silver? ”

“ Lord, ma'am, for what age d'ye take me?" Cai caught up the slack of the rope and hitched it taut over his shoulder. He was rejuvenated. He made a spring for the ladder, and went up it much as twenty years ago he would have swarmed up the ratlines. "Make yourself small," he commanded, as Skin, at imminent risk of falling, drew to one side before his onset. Cai was past him in a jiffy, over the eaves, balancing himself with miraculous ease on the slippery thatch. "Now ease up the ladder!" ”

“ In the midst of it he found Mrs Bosenna, gloved, armed with a pair of secateurs, and engaged in cutting the thorns back to a few ugly inches.
She smiled as he approached. "You don't understand roses?" she asked. "If you don't, you'll be surprised at my hard pruning. If there's real strength in the root, you can trust for June, no matter what a stick you leave. The secret's under the ground; or, as you may say, under the surface, as it is with folks."
"That helps me, ma'am," said Captain Cai, "to tell you it's like that with my friend 'Bias—"
A whistle sounded up the valley. ”

“ They had come to the bend of the road beneath Rilla Farm, and either his eyesight had played him a trick or Captain Cai had caught a glimpse— just a glimpse and no more—of a print gown some fifty yards ahead, where the hedge made an angle about a clump of trees. The small entrance gate and the footbridge lay just beyond this angle.
"Hullo!" exclaimed Captain Cai. ”

“ She had, in fact, seen Captain Hocken pass the window some moments before; and it had not caused her to joggle the tiny ivory hook for a moment or to miss a moment's precision. What native quickness did for her, native stolidity did almost as well for Captain Hunken, who sat in an arm-chair by the fireplace smoking and watching her—and had been sitting and watching her for a good half an hour admiringly, without converse. "Spillikins" is a game during which, though it enjoins silence on the looker-on, a real expert can playfully challenge a remark or tolerate one, now and again. ”

“ John Peter, an elderly man, dwelt with a yet more elderly sister, in an old roomy house set eminently on the cliff-side above the roofs of the Lower Town, approachable only by a pathway broken by flights of steps, and known by the singular name of On the Wall.
The house had been a family mansion, and still preserved traces of ancient dignity, albeit jostled by cottages which had climbed the slope and encroached nearer and nearer as the Nanjulians under stress of poverty had parted with parcel after parcel of their terraced garden. ”

“ You're wearing a different hat."
"Actin' under advice, ma'am."
"I don't know that it's an improvement." Her eyes rested on him in cool scrutiny, and he flinched under it. "There's always a—a sort of distinction about a top hat. Of course, it was very thoughtful of you to change it for something more free-and-easy. But different styles suit different persons, and—as I'm always telling Dinah—the secret of dressing is to find out the style that suits you, and stick to it."
"Bein' free-an'-easy, ma'am, was the last thing in my mind," stammered
Captain Cai. ”

“ It's so good of you to call in this dreadful weather, especially as you have to hire. . . .' But now," said Fancy, clasping her hands, "I see my way: that is, if you're really a genius. You shall write your books and I'll sell them. 'Mr and Mrs Palmerston Burt, Author and—what's the word?—pub—publicans—no, publisher; Author and Publisher.' It's quite the highest class of business: and if any one tried to patronise me I could always explain that I just did it to help, you bein' a child in matters of business. Geniuses are mostly like that." ”

“ Cai descended to his garden, and at the foot of it found a trio of dark figures by the low fence of the edge of the cliff—'Bias and Mrs Bosenna in talk together, Dinah standing a little apart. "But that," thought he, "is only her place, as I've just been hearing." He had a just mind and was slow to suspect. Even now he could not assimilate the poison of Mr Philp's story. Everybody knew Mr Philp and his propensities. As Mr Toy the barber was wont to say, "Philp don't mean any harm: he just makes mischief like a bee makes honey." ”

“ What, 'Bias? . . . He's the gentlest you ever knew, and the easiest-goin': and for ladies' company—well, I don't know," confessed Captain Cai, "as he ever found himself in such, least-ways not to my knowledge. But I'll be bound he wouldn't be able to open his mouth."
"—Unless in defence of a friend," suggested Mrs Bosenna, laughing.
"You must bring him to call on me."
Captain Cai shook his head.
"Oh"—she nodded confidently—"I'll make him talk, never fear!
If he's half so true a friend to you as you are to him—"
"He's a truer." ”

“ An ambition to acquire it sir,—though in your mind you viewed it but as a means to an end,—would in my humble view be an ambition even more laudable than that of shining on the administrative side of public life. For it is not only an art, sir, and a great one. It is well-nigh a lost art. Where, nowadays, are your Burkes, your Foxes, your Sheridans—not to mention your Demostheneses?"
"You'll understand," hesitated Cai, "that nothing beyond the School Board is in question at present. ”

“ Half a minute passed thus, and then (oh, drat the fireworks after all!) a salvo of rockets climbed the sky—luminous ones, this time. As they shot up with a wroo—oo—sh! the hand was snatched away, gently, swiftly. . . .
They burst in balls of fire—blue, green, yellow, crimson. They lit up the garden so vividly that each separate leaf on the laurustinus bushes cast its own sharp shadow. "O—oh!" breathed Mrs Bosenna, but now on a very different note, and as though her whole spirit drank deep, quenching a celestial desire. ”

“ Leave Cap'n Cai, here, pass my door, an' never a home-comin' word?"
"I was meanin' to pay you a visit straight away; indeed I was," said Captain Cai contritely. "Troy streets be narrow and full o' friends; and when a man's accustomed to sea-room—" He broke off and drew a long breath. "But O, friends, if you knew the good it is!"
"Ay, Cap'n: East or West, home is best."
"And too far East is West, as every sailor man knows. . . . There, now, take me along and think' that out while you're giving me a clip; for the longer you stand scratching your head the longer my hair's growing." ”

“ Mr Benny, patting his paper into a neat pad, smiled professionally. The letter might not be an ordinary sort of letter; but he had in old days listened some hundreds of times to this exordium.
"It's—well, it's a proposal of marriage," said Cai desperately; and in despite of himself he started as he uttered the word.
Mr Benny, having patted up the pad to his satisfaction, answered with a nod only, and dipped his pen in the inkpot.
"I don't think you heard me," ventured Cai. "It's a proposal of marriage."
"Fire away!" said Mr Benny. ”

“ In a little place like this there's eyes about all the time—an' tongues."
"I'd like to find the joker who wrote it?" breathed 'Bias, the paper trembling between his hands.
"I can't tell you who wrote it," said the ship-chandler; "but I can give a pretty close guess who's responsible for it: and that's Philp."
"Philp?"
"Mind ye, I say 'tis but a guess."
"I'll Philp him!"
"Well, he's no fav'rite o' mine," said Mr Rogers grinning. "He's too suspicious for me, and I hate a man to be suspicious. . . . But he's the man I suspect." ”

“ Dinah was summoned again, left the room after a whispered consultation, and returned with a small sheaf of clean churchwarden pipes and a cake of tobacco, dark in hue, somewhat dry but (as a quick inspection assured Captain Cai) quite smokeable.
"Now you're to make yourself at ease," said Mrs Bosenna, rising and moving to the door. Captain Cai, remembering his manners, rose and held it open for her. "The wine is at your elbow and (oh, believe me, I understand men!) when you've finished your smoke you will find me in the rose-garden. ”

“ Fancy protested.
"Yes, you did; or in so many words—'Unmanly,' you said."
"But that was about writing." She opened her eyes wide. "You don't mean to tell me that's the trouble? . . . What have you been writing?"
"A book," owned Palmerston with gloom. "A man must try to raise himself somehow."
"Of course he must. What sort of book?"
"It's—it's only a story."
"Why," she reassured him, "I heard of a man the other day who wrote a story and made A Thousand Pounds. It was quite unexpected, and surprised even his friends."
"It must be the same man Mrs Bowldler told me about. ”

“ His eyes were on the quay and the small town climbing the hillside above it in tier upon tier of huddled grey houses. "Why, damme! Your landsman chooses to live ashore, to begin with. What's more, he can walk where he has a mind to, no matter where the wind sits."
Mr Tregaskis shook his head. Having no hat, he was able to do this, and it gave him some dialectical advantage over his skipper.
"In practice, sir, you'd find it depend on who's left to mind the shop."
"Home's home, all the same," said Captain Cai positively, thrusting over the tiller to round in for the landing-stairs. ”

“ Cai wiped the back of his neck and pocketed his handkerchief with an air of decision—or of desperation. "What you don't seem to know—though with any experience o' speakin' you'd understand well enough—is that close upon the last moment all your thoughts fly, and specially if folks will keep chatterin': but when you stand up and open your mouth—provided as nobody interrupts you . . ."
"I declare! If it isn't Captain Hocken—and Captain Hunken with him!"
At the creaking of the small gate, as Cai opened it, Mrs Bosenna had looked up and espied them. ”

“ Cai assured him heartily.
"You've noticed it, eh? . . . Well, that saves a lot o' trouble." With a grunt of relief 'Bias turned his gaze again upon the empty grate and sat smoking for a while. "I'd a sort o' fear it might come on ye sudden . . . eh? What's the matter?" He turned about again, for Cai had emitted an audible groan.
"I'm sorry for ye, 'Bias—you can't think—"
"Oh, you can stow that bachelor chaff," interrupted 'Bias with entire cheerfulness. "I used to feel that way myself, or pretend to. It's different when a man knows." ”

“ Again Cai glanced back. The farm land had been fetching on an average some twenty to twenty-five pounds an acre. . . . Why was Mrs Bosenna not here?
On an impulse—annoyed, perhaps, by the young farmer's take-it-for-granted tone—he called out "Thirty!"
The auctioneer and Mr Baker—who had just signified, by a slight frown, that he could not accept the young farmer's bid—glanced up incuriously. Mr Middlecoat, too, turned about, not recognising the voice of his new "bonnet,"—to use a term not unfamiliar in auctioneering. ”

“ At the extreme end of the town his way led him through the entrance of a wooded valley, or coombe, down which a highroad, a rushing stream, and a railway line descend into Troy Harbour, more or less in parallels, from the outside world. A creek runs some little way up the vale. In old days—in Captain Cai's young days—it ran up for half a mile or more to an embanked mill-pool and a mill-wheel lazily turning: and Rilla Farm had in those days been Rilla Mill, with a farmstead attached as the miller's parergon. ”

“ Fancy wound up, "that he hasn't the papers. He trusted you, to start with, and he's gone on trustin' you and the master. Didn' you intejuce him?"
"Sure enough I did," Cai allowed. "But—confound it, you know!—'Bias
Hunken isn't a child."
"Oh! if that contents you—" But well she knew it did not.
"Mr Rogers never would—"
"I've told you," said Fancy, "more'n ever I ought to have told. There's no knowin', they say, what a man'll do when he's in Queer Street: and the papers have gone: and Cap'n Hunken thinks they're in the safe, where they ain't: and I come to you first, as used to be his friend." ”

“ Fancy Tabb coming up the roadway and pausing while she conned the structure, shading her eyes against the sun-rays that slanted over it, beheld Mrs Bowldler and Palmerston issue from the doorway in solemn procession, bearing between them a length of Turkey twill. Mrs Bowldler passed one end up to Captain Hocken, high on his ladder: Captain Hunken reached down and took the other end from Palmerston. Between them, as they lifted the broad fillet above the archway, its folds fell apart, and she read:—
MANY DAUGHTERS HAVE DONE VIRTUOUSLY BUT THOU EXCELLEST THEM ALL. "My! I'd like to be a Queen!" ”

“ Now, wasn't it?"
"It has made me miserable enough," pleaded Cai.
"And so it ought. . . . I don't know that I should be forgiving you now," added Mrs Bosenna demurely, "if it didn't happen that I wanted advice."
"My advice?" asked Cai incredulous.
"It's a business matter. Women, you know, are so helpless where business is concerned." (Oh, Mrs Bosenna!)
"If I can be of any help—" murmured Cai, somewhat astonished but prodigiously flattered.
"Hush!" she interrupted, lifting a quick eye towards the knap of the hill they had descended. "Isn't that Captain Hunken, up above? . . . ”