Arthur Quiller-Couch

“ Sam Buzza has gone to College.
And what of Troy Town? By degrees the old phrases, old catch-words, and old opinions have come to reign again. Troy's unchanged loveliness too, the daily round full of experiences familiar as old friends, the dear monotony of sight and sound in the little port—all have made for healing and oblivion. If you question us on a certain three months in our life, the chances are you will get no answer. ”

“ Mr. Fogo lit a pipe, and, watching its fumes as they curled out upon the laden night, fell into a kingly melancholy. He dwelt on his past, but without resentment; on Tamsin, but with less trouble of heart. After all, what did it matter? Mr. Fogo, leaning forward on the window-seat, came to a conclusion to which others have been led before him—that life is a small thing. ”

“ Fogo was the last man to desire to overhear a conversation. But the first word echoed so aptly his late musings, and struck his memory, too, with so deep a pang, that before he recovered it was too late.
"Geraldine!"
"Oh! why is it?"— (it was a woman's voice that asked the question, though not the voice that Mr. Fogo had half expected to hear, and his very relief brought a shudder with it) —"oh! why is it that a man and a woman cannot talk together except in lies? You ask if I am unhappy. Say what you mean. Do I hate my husband? Well, then—yes!"
"My dear Mrs.—"
"Is that frank enough? Oh! ”

“ Look below, Sam dear, I have never thought of it before, but how sweet it would have been to have enclosed the old town in a ring-fence, and lived our days in quiet! It is too late now; more will come, and they will build and alter, and no one will be able to stop it. Even if these people should go, it will never be the same again. ”

“ Fogo's turn to grow red.
"And to put up a board," she continued, "with that silly Notice upon it—you and that great baby Caleb Trotter—setting all women at naught, when you never ought to be beyond tether of their apron-strings. Why, only this morning you'd have caught a sun-stroke if I hadn't spread your umbrella over you."
"Did you do that?"
"And who else do you suppose? A man, perhaps? Why, there isn't a man in the world would have had the sense—'less it was Peter or Paul," she added, with a sudden softening of voice, "and they're women in everything but strength. ”

“ Outside, the summer moon had risen above the hill facing him, and the near half of the creek was ablaze with silver. The old schooner still lay in shadow, but the water rushing from her hold kept a perpetual music. Other sounds there were none but the soft rustling of the swallows in the eaves overhead, the sucking of the tide upon the beach below, and the whisper of night among the elms. The air was heavy with the fragrance of climbing roses and all the scents of the garden. In such an hour Nature is half sad and wholly tender. ”

“ Buzza had been right. "It will never be the same again-never!" Something we have lost, and I think that something is Troy. For strangers have come amongst us, and have formed a society of their own. The Town is grown out of our knowledge. They have built, and are building, mansions of stucco, and a hotel of hideous brick; a fifth-rate race-meeting threatens the antique regatta; and before all this the savour of Trojan life is departing. ”

“ The Admiral did not convey his son away in a hollow cloud, or even break the Club telescope in Mr. Moggridge's hand; he made a speech instead, to this effect:
"My sons, attend and cease from strife implacable; neither be as two ravening whelps that, having chanced on a kid in the dells of the mountain, dispute thereover, dragging this way and that with gnashing jaws. For to youth belong anger and biting words, but to soothe is the gift of old age."
What the Admiral actually said was—"Hullo! what the devil are you young cubs quarrelling about?" ”

“ In a moment five-and-twenty fifers were blowing "See, the conquering hero comes," with all their breath, and marching to the beat of a deafening drum. Behind them came a serried crowd with the stranger in its midst, and a straggling train of farmers' gigs and screaming urchins closed the procession.
Miss Limpenny, at the first-storey window of No. 1 Alma Villas, heard the yet distant din. ”

“ It was ten o'clock at night, the hour when men may cull the bloom of sleep. Already the moon rode in a serene heaven, and, looking in at the Club window, saw the Admiral and Lawyer Pellow—"male feriatos Troas"—busy with a mild game of ecarte. There were not enough to make up a loo to-night, for Sam and Mr. Moggridge were absent, and so—more unaccountably—was the Honourable Frederic. The moon was silent, and only she, peering through the blinds of "The Bower," could see Mr. and Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys hastily packing their boxes ”

“ There was a moment's silence; then Caleb resumed—
"But contrari-wise, sir, the army cap'n was a man."
"Ah! yes, of course; let us be just—the army captain was a man. Caleb," said Mr. Fogo, with a sudden change from his pensive manner, "has it ever occurred to you to guess why I—not yet an old man, Caleb—am living in this solitude?"
"Beggin' your pard'n, sir, an' makin' so free as to guess, but were it a woman by any chance?"
"Yes," said his master, rising hurriedly and lighting his candle, "it was a woman, Caleb—it was a woman. ”

“ Troy in carnival and Troy sober are as opposite, you must know, as the poles. Fun is all very well, but business is business, and Troy is a trading port with a character to keep up: for who has not heard the bye-word— "Working like a Trojan"?
At two o'clock on this same day a little schooner lay alongside the town quay, busily discharging bricks. That is to say, a sunburnt man, blue-jerseyed and red with brick-dust, leisurely turned a windlass which let down an empty bucket and brought it up full. ”

“ Never was such a scene in Troy. Even the local aristocracy— the Cumeelfo—mingled with the throng and watched the havoc as curiously as their neighbours.
No member of the Buzza family was there, nor Mr. Moggridge. But few others did Miss Limpenny fail to perceive as she sat with hands hanging limply and mourned to Lavinia—
"What disgrace! What a lasting blemish upon our society! There goes Hancock with the music-stool. To run away just before quarter-day, and they so refined to all appearance, so—My dear, they will have the house down. ”

“ Goodwyn-Sandys, though uneasily, for Sophia's saddened eyes were upon him.
Yet everybody seemed in the best of spirits and tempers. The Admiral, after bestowing his wife in another boat, and glaring vindictively at Kit's House, where the figure of Mr. Fogo was visible on the beach, grew exceedingly jocose, and cracked his most admired jokes, including his famous dialogue with the echo just beyond Kit's House—a performance which Miss Limpenny declared she had seldom heard him give with such spirit. ”

“ Goodwyn-Sandys leaned back and laughed—a pretty rippling laugh that shook the diamonds upon her throat. Sam guffawed, and by this action sprang that little rift between the friends that widened before long into a gulf.
"I shall ask you to copy them into my Album. I always victimise a lion when I meet one."
This was said with a glance full of compensation. Mr. Moggridge tried to look very leonine indeed. Across the room another pair of eyes gently reproached him. Never before had he tarried so long from Sophia's side. Poor little heart! beating so painfully beneath your dowdy muslin bodice. ”

“ Dear me!" stammered Mr. Fogo, as well as he might for the shaking. "What's all this?"
"Axin' your pardon, sir," explained Caleb, continuing the treatment, "but 'tes all for your good, like ringin' a pig. You'm a-woolgatherin'; wake up!"
Mr. Fogo came to himself, and sat down upon a log of timber to rearrange his thoughts and his spectacles. Caleb stood over him and sternly watched his recovery.
"You are quite right, Caleb: my thoughts were wandering. Your treatment is a trifle rough, but honest. Are those extraordinary people gone?" ”

“ Moggridge and introduce him," said Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys to Sam. "He is a Collector of Customs, is he not? Do you think he would recite any of his verses to me?"
"By the hour. But I shouldn't advise you to ask him. It's all about my sister."
"Which?"
"The eldest there—Sophy's her name—and don't judge from appearances; the family diet is not hardware."
"Hush, sir! you must not be rude. That reminds me that I ought to go and speak to them."
"You won't get anything out of them. If you want a subject, though, I'll give you the straight tip—lambs. I've heard them talk about lambs by the hour. ”

“ Fogo cautiously rose, pushed his easel under the bushes, and began to creep up towards the ridge, holding his umbrella in front of him as a screen. This was rather after the fashion of the ostrich, which, to avoid being seen, buries its head in the sand; nor was it likely that the beast, if irritated at sight of a man, would acquiesce in the phenomenon of an umbrella at large, and strolling on its own responsibility. But as yet the bull's back was towards it. ”

“ All your sighs and tears unbind;
Care's a ware may break a back,
May not bend a maiden's mind.
"Loose, and follow to a land
Where the tyrant's only fee
Is the kissing of a hand
And the bending of a knee.
"In that State a man shall need
Neither priest nor lawgiver:
Those same slips that are his creed
Shall confess their worshipper.
"All the laws he must obey,
Now in force and now repealed,
Shift in eyes that shift as they—
"'Shift as they,' 'shift as they,'" mused Mr. Moggridge. "Let me see—"
'Till alike with kisses sealed.'
"That was it. ”

“ Oh! I have no patience," and Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys stamped her little foot, "with you women of Troy. Will you always be dolls— dolls with a painted smile for all man's insane caprices? Will you never—?"
"I don't paint," put in Mrs. Buzza feebly.
"Revolt, I say! Leave him this very night! Oh! if I could—"
"If you please 'm," interrupted the page, throwing open the door, "here's Mrs. Simpson, an' says she must see you partic'lar."
Mrs. Buzza had barely time to dry her eyes and set her bonnet straight, before Mrs. Simpson rushed into the room. ”

“ Curiously enough, his next reflection appeared to contradict this view of the sex.
"An extraordinary woman! But every fresh person I meet in this place is more eccentric than the last. Let me see," he continued, checking off the list on his fingers; "there's Caleb, and that astounding Admiral, and the Twins, and Tamsin—"
Mr. Fogo stared very hard at the water for some seconds.
"And Tamsin," he repeated slowly. "Hullo! my feet seem to be in the water—and, bless my soul! what has become of the boat?" ”

“ Fogo got off his barrel, went to the window, sighed softly, and returned. Something in his manner imposed silence on Caleb.
"We shall live here alone," he resumed. "It is even possible that, to ensure solitude, I shall rent the cottage as well, and install you there. Above all things, remember," with sudden sternness, "that no woman is to come near this house—I shall even expect you to do your utmost to prevent their landing on the quay below. That, I think, is all. ”

“ On the third day you will cast about in your mind to explain this; and so in time you will come to find that it is the spirit of Troy that plays this trick upon you. For you will have learnt to love the place, and love, as you know, dear sir or madam, is apt to affect the eyesight.
The eyes of Mr. Fogo, as Caleb pulled sturdily up with the tide, were passing through the first of these stages. ”

“ Who are to be asked?"
"Why not everybody, Priscilla dear?"
"The Simpsons, for instance? It is true his father was a respectable solicitor, and even Mayor of Devonport I have heard, but Mr. Simpson's taste in badinage is such as I cannot always approve. It is very well in Troy here, where everybody knows them, but the Goodwyn-Sandys are certain to be most particular, and, Lavinia, that crimson gown of hers!"
"It is bright," assented Miss Lavinia.
"And the Saunders! What a pity the girls cannot be invited without the boys."
"The boys have always come before, Priscilla."
Miss Limpenny groaned. ”

“ With each successive sentence Caleb's mouth and eyes opened wider.
"And now," she ended, "as Peter and Paul have been waiting for their dinner this half-hour, I will be going. Don't trouble to come with me; but attend to your master. Good-morning, sir."
She dropped him a low curtsey and was gone. He started up.
"Where be goin', sir? Sit down; you'm not fit to stir."
But Mr. Fogo had passed him, and was out of the room in a moment. In spite of the pain that racked every limb, he overtook Tamsin in the porch.
"What are you doing?" she cried. "Go back to bed." ”

“ Caleb led the way across the quay, and they ascended the steps of the "King of Prussia" together.
"My object," said Mr. Fogo timidly, as they were seated together in the low-roofed parlour before two foaming mugs—"My object was this. In the first place, I like your look."
"Same to you, sir," said Caleb, and acknowledged the compliment with a draught, "though 'tes what my gal said afore she desarted me for a Rooshan."
"Are you a single man, then?"
"To be sure, sir."
"So much the better—but I will talk of that presently. I, too, am a single man, with rather peculiar tastes. ”