Pedler

“ The pedler is always popular with his world and Dives knew Petitjean to be as honest as a pedler can ever hope to be in a world where small pence are only made large by some one being sacrificed on the altar of duplicity. Therefore it was that Petitjean's hearse-like cart was always a welcome visitor;—one could at least be as sure of a just return for one's money in trading with a pedler as from any other source in this thieving world. In the end, one always got something else besides the bargain to carry away with one. ”

“ Many did ask how was the pedler armed, but none how was he shod."
"Hath he been seen since?"
"Not he; and that hath an ugly look; for the constables are out after him with hue and cry; but he is not to be found."
"Then," said Mercy, "I must e'en answer my own question. I do know how that pedler was shod. With hobnailed shoes."
Sir George bounded from his chair. One great ray of daylight broke in upon him.
"Ay," said Mercy, "she was right. Women do see clearer in some things than men. The pair went from my house to hers. He you call Griffith Gaunt had on a new pair of boots ”

“ Roger swung round upon him furiously, his hands clenched, his forehead suddenly gnarled with knotted veins.
"By God, Rooke!" he exclaimed. "You go too far! You will exhibit
Nan's portrait . . . you will hang it in your house! . . . And you
think I'll stand by and tolerate such impertinence? Understand . . .
Nan's portrait hangs at Trenby Hall—or nowhere!"
Rooke regarded him apparently unmoved.
"I've yet to learn the law which compels a man to part with his work," he remarked indifferently.
Roger took an impetuous step towards him, his clenched hand raised as though to strike. ”

“ Just at the end, before they turned the corner where the car awaited them, Peter spoke to her again, taking both her hands in his for the last time and holding them in a firm, steady clasp.
"Don't forget, Nan, what we said just now. We can each remember that—our troth. Hang on to it—hard, when life seems a bit more uphill than usual." ”

“ To Trenby?" Then, savagely: "You can't. I want you!"
He stooped his head and she felt his mouth on hers.
A glimmer of pale firelight searched out the two tense faces; the shadowy room seemed listening, waiting—waiting—
"I want you!" he reiterated hoarsely. "I can't live without you any longer. Nan . . . come with me . . ."
A tremulous flicker of lightning shivered across the darkness. The dead electric burners leaped into golden globes of light once more, and in the garish, shattering glare the man and woman sprang apart and stood staring at each other, trembling, with passion-stricken faces. ”

“ Elisabeth made no answer. Instead, she pointed to the Monk's Cliff, where the grey stone of Far End gleamed in the sunlight against its dark background of trees.
“Who lives there?” she asked. Sara's eyes followed the direction of her hand, and she smiled.
“I'm going to live there,” she answered. “That's Garth's home.”
“Oh-h!” Elisabeth drew a quick breath. “It's a grim-looking place,” she added, after a moment. “Rather lonely, I should imagine.”
“Garth is fond of solitude,” replied Sara simply, and she missed the swift, searching glance instantly leveled at her by the hyacinth eyes. ”

“ The ralli-cart swung round a corner into a narrow lane, and a quick exclamation broke from Ann as she recognised in the tall, striding figure approaching from the opposite direction the man of whom they had just been speaking. A beautiful thoroughbred collie bounded along beside him, looking up at his master every now and again with adoring eyes.
“Why, here is Mr. Coventry!” she exclaimed. “Shall I pull up?”
Without waiting for an answer she brought the cob to a standstill exactly as Eliot, catching sight of them, halted instinctively. ”

“ Possibly the mare wondered also, for, coming down once more on all four feet to find the hated incumbrance still astride her back, she reared again, immediately. Ann had a vision of two black hoofs pawing the air indignantly, then, swift as a flash of light, Brett had flung himself forward on the mare’s neck and brought his crop down on her head between the pointed ears. She came down to earth with a bang, plunged violently, then, giving an evil twist to her whole body, started bucking with all the wicked energy that was in her. ”

“ Five minutes later she heard his footsteps as he came striding along the corridor on to which the West Parlour opened. Then the door-handle was turned with imperious eagerness, someone switched on the light, and he came in—splashed with mud, his face red from the lash of the wind, his hair beaded with moisture from the misty air. He looked just what he was—a typical big sporting Englishman—as he tramped into the room and made his way to the warmth of the blazing log fire.
Nan looked up and threw him a little smile of greeting. ”

“ Miles looked away quickly. The hard, implacable stare of the other man's eyes, with the blazing defiance, hurt him. It spoke too poignantly of a bitterness that had eaten into the heart. But he had put his hand to the plough, and he refused to turn back.
“Wouldn't it”—he spoke with a sudden gentleness, the gentleness of the surgeon handling a torn limb—“wouldn't it help to straighten things out with Sara?”
“If it did, it would only make matters worse. No. Take it from me, Herrick, that soldiering is the one thing of all others I can't do.” ”

“ She looked up swiftly, trying to read what lay behind the harsh repression in his tones. She felt as though he were holding something in leash—something that strained and fought against restraint.
"I'm a man—not a saint!" The memory of his renunciation at King Arthur's Castle swept over her.
"Yet I once thought you—almost that, Peter," she said slowly.
But he brushed her words aside.
"Well, I'm not. When I saw you to-day at the studio . . . God! Did you think I'd keep away? . . . Nan, did you want me to?" ”

“ It was an effort to hold out her hand, and, when his closed around it, she felt her whole body thrill at his touch, just as it had been wont to thrill in those few, short, golden days when their mutual happiness had been undarkened by any shadow from the past. Swiftly, as though all at once afraid, she snatched her hand from his clasp.
“What have you been doing in France?” he asked. ”

“ A coquettish little lace cap adorned the silver-grey hair, and the face beneath the cap was just what you would have expected to find it—soft and very gentle, its porcelain pink and white a little faded, the pretty old eyes a misty, lavender blue.
She was alone when the two girls arrived, and greeted Sara with a humorous little smile.
“How kind of you to come, Miss Tennant! We've been all agog to meet you, Miles and I. In a tiny place like Monkshaven, you see, every one knows every one else's business, so of course we have been hearing of you constantly.” ”

“ An old Italian woman, her dark eyes bright and glancing like a robin's, peered at him scrutinisingly. Could he see the signora? She shook her head doubtfully. Peter smiled at her—that lovable, half whimsical smile of his which so few women could resist—and the old serving woman melted. Yes, it was true—the signora had finished her siesta. Perhaps she would receive the signoré inglese. The name? A swift expression of surprise crossed her face as Peter gave his name. ”

“ The ball spun round, and the croupier’s monotone sounded warningly above the whispering of notes and the clink of coin.
“Le jeu est fait.” It reminded Ann of the vicar intoning at the little church she had attended in the old Lovell Court days. Only there were no responses! Everybody was engrossed in watching the ball as it dodged in and out amongst the numbers, hesitating maddeningly, then starting gaily off on a fresh tack as though guided by some invisible spirit of malice. ”

“ The man reluctantly made as though to obey, but even while he hesitated, he saw the girl's eyes suddenly look past him, over his shoulder, and, turning suspiciously, he swung straight into the brawny grip of the head keeper, who, hearing a shot fired, had deserted his breakfast and hurried in the direction of the sound and now came up close behind him.
“Caught this time, Brady, my man,” chuckled the keeper triumphantly. “It's gaol for you this journey, as sure's my name's Clegg. Has the fellow been annoying you, Miss Sara?” ”

“ He went on in silence, conscious in every fiber of his being of the supple body gathered so close against his own, of the young, sweet, clean-cut curve of her cheek, and of the warmth of her hair against his shoulder. He jerked his head aside, his mouth set grimly, and crossed quickly to the other bank of the river.
As he let her slip to the ground, steadying her with his arms, he bent swiftly and, for an instant, his lips just brushed her hair. Nan scarcely felt the touch of his kiss, it fell so lightly, but she sensed it through every nerve of her. ”

“ John began slowly.
Nan lifted her head.
“Why did I promise Roger?” she broke in. “Because it seemed the only way. I—I was afraid! And then there was Penelope and Ralph. Oh, it was a ghastly mistake. I know now. But—but there's Roger. He cares.”
“Yes. There's Roger,” he said gravely. “And you've given him your word. You can't draw back now.” There was a note of sternness in the old man's voice—the sternness of a man who has a high creed of honor and who has always lived up to it, no matter what it cost. “Remember, Nan, no Davenant was ever a coward in the face of difficulties. ”

“ Presently Peter swung around and came to her side. But he did not touch her. His face looked drawn, and his eyes burned smolderingly, like fire half quenched.
“Nan, if I didn't care so much I'd ask you to go away with me. I—don't quite know what life will be like without you—hell, probably. But at least it's going to be my own little hell and I'm not going to drag you down into it. I'm bound irrevocably. And you're bound, too. You can't play fast and loose with the promise you've given Trenby. So we've just got to face it.” ”

“ As he spoke, he held open the gate for Nan, who glanced round with lively interest.
“How beautifully clean it all is!” exclaimed Nan.
The whip smiled with obvious delight.
“If you keep hounds, miss, you must keep 'em clean, or they won't be healthy and fit to do their day's work. And a day's hunting is a day's work for hounds, and no mistake.”
“How like a woman to remark about cleanliness first of all!” laughed Roger. “A man would have gone straight to look at the hounds before noticing anything else!” ”

“ Nan gasped, and before she had time to say anything further, he had gone off to see about telephoning.
When he finally returned, his face wore an expression of humorous satisfaction.
“I've fixed it all,” he said. “Your car has just arrived at Abbencombe and the chauffeur has been told to wait there. I've hired another one here for our journey. Now let me put you into it and then I'll see about your luggage.” ”

“ The color deepened suddenly in her face as the sound of a bell trilled through the flat, and she stood motionless, like a bird poised for flight. Then, with a little, impatient shrug of her shoulders, she made her way slowly, almost unwillingly, across the hall and threw open the door. ”

“ She remembered often enough having heard it grate into its place as Storran went his nightly round, locking up the house. But, as her slender, seeking fingers came in contact with the knob, she realised that to-night by some oversight he had forgotten to shoot the bolt and, noiselessly lifting the iron latch, she opened the door and slipped out into the moonlit garden. Down the paths she went and across the lawns, the touch of the earth coming clean and cool to her bare feet. ”

“ They could not mar the loveliness of this mystic, legend-haunted corner of the world.
At length, with a faint sigh of regret, she crossed the bridge and walked slowly up a path which appeared to be little more than a rough track hewn out of the rocky side of the cliff itself, uneven and strewn with loose stones. Nan picked her steps gingerly. At the top of the track her way turned sharply at right angles to where a narrow ridge, so narrow that two people could not walk on it abreast, led to Tintagel Head. ”

“ Isobel laughed lightly and let fly one of her little two-edged shafts.
"I expect you think we're a lot of very commonplace people, Nan," she commented. "Own up, now!" challengingly.
Lady Gertrude's eyes flashed like steel.
"Hardly that, I hope," she said coldly.
"Well, we're none of us in the least artistic," persisted her niece, perfectly aware that her small thrusts were as irritating to Lady Gertrude and Roger as the picador's darts to the bull in the arena. "So of course we must appear rather Philistine compared with Nan's set in London." ”

“ He spoke violently, so violently that it roused Nan's spirit. She turned away from him.
“Don't be so absurd, Roger,” she said contemptuously. “Isobel was only joking. It was very silly of her, but it's sillier still for you to take any notice of what she said.”
“She was not joking. You've shown clearly enough ever since you came here that you're dissatisfied—bored! Do you suppose I haven't seen it? I'm not blind! And I won't stand it! If your music is going to come between us, I'll smash the piano!”
“Roger! You ridiculous person!” ”

“ Nan passed out in the wake of the other women to spend in desultory small talk that awkward after-dinner interval which splits the evening into halves and involves a picking up of the threads—not always successfully accomplished—when the men at last rejoin the feminine portion of the party.
“Well,” demanded Kitty, “how do you like my lion?”
“Mr. Mallory? I didn't know he was a lion,” responded Nan.
“Of course you didn't. You musicians never realize that the human zoo boasts any other lions except yourselves.” ”