What I came to ask is, whether you would have the kindness to try what you could do (what an infamous shame to have to beg like this!) do to savedo to ensurewhether you would have the kindness It seemed out of all human power to gulp it down. The draught grew more and more abhorrent. To proclaim ones iniquity, to apologize for ones wrongdoing; thus much could be done; but to beg a favour of the offended partythat was beyond the self-abasement any Feverel could consent to. Pride, however, whose inevitable battle is against itself, drew aside the curtains of poor Toms prison, crying a second time, Behold your Benefactor! and, with the words burning in his ears, Richard swallowed the dose:
Well, then, I want you, Mr. Blaize,if you dont mindwill you help me to get this man Bakewell off his punishment?
To do Farmer Blaize justice, he waited very patiently for the boy, though he could not quite see why he did not take the gate at the first offer.
Oh! said he, when he heard and had pondered on the request. Hum! ha! well see about it tmorrow. But if hes innocent, you know, we shant makn guilty.
It was I did it! Richard declared.
The farmers half-amused expression sharpened a bit.
So, young gentleman! and youre sorry for the nights work?
I shall see that you are paid the full extent of your losses.
Thankee, said the farmer drily.
And, if this poor man is released to-morrow, I dont care what the amount is.
Farmer Blaize deflected his head twice in silence. Bribery, one motion expressed: Corruption, the other.
Now, said he, leaning forward, and fixing his elbows on his knees, while he counted the case at his fingers ends, excuse the liberty, but wishin to know where this ere moneys to come from, I shd like jest task if so be Sir Austin know o this?
My father knows nothing of it, replied Richard.
The farmer flung back in his chair. Lie number Two, said his shoulders, soured by the British aversion to being plotted at, and not dealt with openly.
And yeve the money ready, young gentleman?
I shall ask my father for it.
And hell handt out?
Certainly he will!
Richard had not the slightest intention of ever letting his father into his counsels.
A good three hundred pounds, ye know? the farmer suggested.
No consideration of the extent of damages, and the size of the sum, affected young Richard, who said boldly, He will not object when I tell him I want that sum.
It was natural Farmer Blaize should be a trifle suspicious that a youths guarantee would hardly be given for his fathers readiness to disburse such a thumping bill, unless he had previously received his fathers sanction and authority.
Hum! said he, why not a told him before?
The farmer threw an objectionable shrewdness into his query, that caused Richard to compress his mouth and glance high.
Farmer Blaize was positive twas a lie.
Hum! Ye still hold tot you fired the rick? he asked.
The blame is mine! quoth Richard, with the loftiness of a patriot of old Rome.
Na, na! the straightforward Briton put him aside. Ye didt, or ye didnt dot. Did ye dot, or no?
Thrust in a corner, Richard said, I did it.
Farmer Blaize reached his hand to the bell. It was answered in an instant by little Lucy, who received orders to fetch in a dependent at Belthorpe going by the name of the Bantam, and made her exit as she had entered, with her eyes on the young stranger.
Now, said the farmer, these be my principles. Im a plain man, Mr. Feverel. Above board with me, and youll find me handsome. Try to circumvent me, and Im a ugly customer. Ill show you Ive no animosity. Your father paysyou apologize. Thats enough for me! Let Tom Bakewell fightt out with the Law, and Ill look on. The Law wasnt on the spot, I suppose? so the Law aint much witness. But I am. Leastwise the Bantam is. I tell you, young gentleman, the Bantam sawt! Its no moral use whatever your denyin that evdence. And wheres the good, sir, I ask? What comes of t? Whether it be you, or whether it be Tom Bakewellaint all one? If I holds back, aint it simlar? Its the trewth I want! And heret comes, added the farmer, as Miss Lucy ushered in the Bantam, who presented a curious figure for that rare divinity to enliven.
CHAPTER IX
In build of body, gait and stature, Giles Jinkson, the Bantam, was a tolerably fair representative of the Punic elephant, whose part, with diverse anticipations, the generals of the Blaize and Feverel forces, from opposing ranks, expected him to play. Giles, surnamed the Bantam, on account of some forgotten sally of his youth or infancy, moved and looked elephantine. It sufficed that Giles was well fed to assure that Giles was faithfulif uncorrupted. The farm which supplied to him ungrudging provender had all his vast capacity for work in willing exercise: the farmer who held the farm his instinct reverenced as the fountain source of beef and bacon, to say nothing of beer, which was plentiful at Belthorpe, and good. This Farmer Blaize well knew, and he reckoned consequently that here was an animal always to be relied ona sort of human composition out of dog, horse, and bull, a cut above each of these quadrupeds in usefulness, and costing proportionately more, but on the whole worth the money, and therefore invaluable, as everything worth its money must be to a wise man. When the stealing of grain had been made known at Belthorpe, the Bantam, a fellow-thresher with Tom Bakewell, had shared with him the shadow of the guilt. Farmer Blaize, if he hesitated which to suspect, did not debate a second as to which he would discard; and, when the Bantam said he had seen Tom secreting pilkins in a sack, Farmer Blaize chose to believe him, and off went poor Tom, told to rejoice in the clemency that spared his appearance at Sessions.
The Bantams small sleepy orbits saw many things, and just at the right moment, it seemed. He was certainly the first to give the clue at Belthorpe on the night of the conflagration, and he may, therefore, have seen poor Tom retreating stealthily from the scene, as he averred he did. Lobourne had its say on the subject. Rustic Lobourne hinted broadly at a young woman in the case, and, moreover, told a tale of how these fellow-threshers had, in noble rivalry, one day turned upon each other to see which of the two threshed the best; whereof the Bantam still bore marks, and malice, it was said. However, there he stood, and tugged his forelocks to the company, and if Truth really had concealed herself in him she must have been hard set to find her unlikeliest hiding-place.
Now, said the farmer, marshalling forth his elephant with the confidence of one who delivers his ace of trumps, tell this young gentleman what ye saw on the night of the fire, Bantam!
The Bantam jerked a bit of a bow to his patron, and then swung round, fully obscuring him from Richard.
Richard fixed his eyes on the floor, while the Bantam in rudest Doric commenced his narrative. Knowing what was to come, and thoroughly nerved to confute the main incident, Richard barely listened to his barbarous locution: but when the recital arrived at the point where the Bantam affirmed he had seen Tm Baakll wis owen hoies, Richard faced him, and was amazed to find himself being mutely addressed by a series of intensely significant grimaces, signs, and winks.
What do you mean? Why are you making those faces at me? cried the boy indignantly.
Farmer Blaize leaned round the Bantam to have a look at him, and beheld the stolidest mask ever given to man.
Baint makin no faces at nobody, growled the sulky elephant.
The farmer commanded him to face about and finish.
A see Tm Baakll, the Bantam recommenced, and again the contortions of a horrible wink were directed at Richard. The boy might well believe this churl was lying, and he did, and was emboldened to exclaim
You never saw Tom Bakewell set fire to that rick!
The Bantam swore to it, grimacing an accompaniment.
I tell you, said Richard, I put the lucifers there myself!
The suborned elephant was staggered. He meant to telegraph to the young gentleman that he was loyal and true to certain gold pieces that had been given him, and that in the right place and at the right time he should prove so. Why was he thus suspected? Why was he not understood?
A thowt I see un, then, muttered the Bantam, trying a middle course.
This brought down on him the farmer, who roared, Thought! Ye thought! What dye mean? Speak out, and dont be thinkin. Thought? What the devils that?
How could he see who it was on a pitch-dark night? Richard put in.
Thought! the farmer bellowed louder. ThoughtDevil take ye, when ye took ye oath ont. Hulloa! What are ye screwin yer eye at Mr. Feverel for?I say, young gentleman, have you spoke to this chap before now?
I? replied Richard. I have not seen him before.
Farmer Blaize grasped the two arms of the chair he sat on, and glared his doubts.
Come, said he to the Bantam, speak out, and ha done wit. Say what ye saw, and none o yer thoughts. Damn yer thoughts! Ye saw Tom Bakewell fire that there rick! The farmer pointed at some musk-pots in the window. What business ha you to be a-thinkin? Youre a witness? Thinkin ant evdence. Whatll ye say to morrow before magistrate! Mind! what you says today, youll stick by to-morrow.
Thus adjured, the Bantam hitched his breech. What on earth the young gentleman meant he was at a loss to speculate. He could not believe that the young gentleman wanted to be transported, but if he had been paid to help that, why, he would. And considering that this days evidence rather bound him down to the morrows, he determined, after much ploughing and harrowing through obstinate shocks of hair, to be not altogether positive as to the person. It is possible that he became thereby more a mansion of truth than he previously had been; for the night, as he said, was so dark that you could not see your hand before your face; and though, as he expressed it, you might be mortal sure of a man, you could not identify him upon oath, and the party he had taken for Tom Bakewell, and could have sworn to, might have been the young gentleman present, especially as he was ready to swear it upon oath.
So ended the Bantam.
No sooner had he ceased, than Farmer Blaize jumped up from his chair, and made a fine effort to lift him out of the room from the point of his toe. He failed, and sank back groaning with the pain of the exertion and disappointment.
Theyre liars, every one! he cried. Liars, perjrers, bribers, and crrupters!Stop! to the Bantam, who was slinking away. Youve done for yerself already! You swore to it!
A dint! said the Bantam, doggedly.
You swore tot! the farmer vociferated afresh.
The Bantam played a tune upon the handle of the door, and still affirmed that he did not; a double contradiction at which the farmer absolutely raged in his chair, and was hoarse, as he called out a third time that the Bantam had sworn to it.
Noa! said the Bantam, ducking his poll. Noa! he repeated in a lower note; and then, while a sombre grin betokening idiotic enjoyment of his profound casuistical quibble worked at his jaw:
Not upn o-ath! he added, with a twitch of the shoulder and an angular jerk of the elbow.
Farmer Blaize looked vacantly at Richard, as if to ask him what he thought of Englands peasantry after the sample they had there. Richard would have preferred not to laugh, but his dignity gave way to his sense of the ludicrous, and he let fly a shout. The farmer was in no laughing mood. He turned a wide eye back to the door, Lucky form, he exclaimed, seeing the Bantam had vanished, for his fingers itched to break that stubborn head. He grew very puffy, and addressed Richard solemnly:
Now, look ye here, Mr. Feverel! Youve been a-tampering with my witness. Its no use denyin! I say y ave, sir! You, or some of ye. I dont care about no Feverel! My witness there has been bribed. The Bantams been bribed, and he shivered his pipe with an energetic thump on the tablebribed! I knows it! I could swear tot!
Upon oath? Richard inquired, with a grave face.
Ay, upon oath! said the farmer, not observing the impertinence.
Id take my Bible oath ont! Hes been corrupted, my principal witness! Oh! its dam cunnin, but it wont do the trick. Ill transport Tom Bakewell, sure as a gun. He shall travel, that man shall. Sorry for you, Mr. Feverelsorry you havent seen how to treat me properyou, or yours. Money wont do everythingno! it wont. Itll crrupt a witness, but it wont clear a felon. Id ha soused you, sir! Youre a boy andll learn better. I asked no more than payment and apology; and that Id ha taken contentalways provided my witnesses werent tampered with. Now you must stand yer luck, all o ye.
Richard stood up and replied, Very well, Mr. Blaize.
And if, continued the farmer, Tom Bakewell dont drag you intot after m, why, youre safe, as I hope yell be, sincere!
It was not in consideration of my own safety that I sought this interview with you, said Richard, head erect.
Grant ye that, the farmer responded. Grant ye that! Yer bold enough, young gentlemancomes of the blood that should be! If y had only ha spoke trewth!I believe yer fatherbelieve every word he said. I do wish I could ha said as much for Sir Austins son and heir.
What! cried Richard, with an astonishment hardly to be feigned, you have seen my father?
But Farmer Blaize had now such a scent for lies that he could detect them where they did not exist, and mumbled gruffly,
Ay, we knows all about that!
The boys perplexity saved him from being irritated. Who could have told his father? An old fear of his father came upon him, and a touch of an old inclination to revolt.
My father knows of this? said he, very loudly, and staring, as he spoke, right through the farmer. Who has played me false? Who would betray me to him? It was Austin! No one knew it but Austin. Yes, and it was Austin who persuaded me to come here and submit to these indignities. Why couldnt he be open with me? I shall never trust him again!
And why not you with me, young gentleman? said the farmer. I shd trust you if ye had.
Richard did not see the analogy. He bowed stiffly and bade him good afternoon.
Farmer Blaize pulled the bell. Company the young gentleman out, Lucy, he waved to the little damsel in the doorway. Do the honours. And, Mr. Richard, ye might ha made a friend o me, sir, and its not too late so to do. Im not cruel, but I hate lies. I whipped my boy Tom, bigger than you, for not bein above board, only yesterday,ay! made un stand within swing o this chair, and takes measure. Now, if yell come down to me, and speak trewth before the trialif its only five minutes beforet; or if Sir Austin, whos a gentleman, ll say theres been no tamperin with any o my witnesses, his word fortwell and good! Ill do my best to help off Tom Bakewell. And Im glad, young gentleman, youve got a conscience about a poor man, though hes a villain. Good afternoon, sir.