man of
forty three or four, stoutly and strongly built, and inclined to be portly.
Save the loss of his wife four years before, there had been but little to
ruffle the easy tenor of his life. A younger son, he had, at his mother's
death, when he was three and twenty, come in for the small estate at
Crawley, which had been her jointure.
For ten years he had led a life resembling that of most of his neighbors;
he had hunted and shot, been a regular attendant at any main of cocks
that was fought within fifteen miles of Crawley, had occasionally been
up to London for a week or two to see the gay doings there. Of an
evening he had generally gone down to the inn, where he talked over,
with two or three of his own condition and a few of the better class of
farmers, the news of the day, the war with the French, the troubles in
Scotland, the alarming march of the Young Pretender, and his defeat at
Culloden--with no very keen interest in the result, for the Southern
gentry and yeomen, unlike those in the North, had no strong leanings
either way. They had a dull dislike for Hanoverian George, but no great
love for the exiled Stuarts, whose patron, the King of France, was an
enemy of England.
More often, however, their thoughts turned upon local topics--the
holding up of the coach of Sir James Harris or Squire Hamilton by
highwaymen; the affray between the French smugglers and the
Revenue men near Selsea Bill or Shoreham; the delinquencies of the
poaching gangs; the heaviness of the taxes, and the price of corn.
At the age of thirty-three Squire Thorndyke married the daughter of a
neighboring landowner; a son was born and three years later Mrs.
Thorndyke died. Since then the Squire had led a more retired life; he
still went down to smoke his pipe at the inn parlor, but he gave up his
visits to town; and cock fights, and even bull baiting, were no longer
attractions to him. He was known as a good landlord to the three or
four farmers who held land under him; was respected and liked in the
village, where he was always ready to assist in cases of real distress;
was of an easygoing disposition and on good terms with all his
neighbors.
But today he was unusually disturbed in his mind. A messenger had
ridden up two hours before with a letter from London. It was as
follows:
"MY DEAR BROTHER JOHN:
"You will be surprised indeed at this letter from me, who, doubtless,
you suppose to be fighting in India. I have done with fighting, and am
nearly done with life. I was shot in the battle of Buxar, eighteen months
ago. For a time the surgeons thought that it was going to be fatal; then I
rallied, and for some months it seemed that, in spite of the ball that they
were never able to find, I was going to get over it, and should be fit for
service again. Then I got worse; first it was a cough, then the blood
used to come up, and they said that the only chance for me was to come
home. I did not believe it would be of any use, but I thought that I
would rather die at home than in India, so home I came, and have now
been a week in London.
"I thought at first of going down to my place at Reigate, and having
you and your boy there with me; but as I have certainly not many
weeks, perhaps not many days, to live, I thought I would come down to
you; so the day after you receive this letter I shall be with you. I shall
not bring my little girl down; I have left her in good hands, and I shall
only bring with me my Hindoo servant. He will give you no trouble--a
mat to sleep on, and a little rice to eat, will satisfy his wants; and he
will take the trouble of me a good deal off your hands. He was a Sepoy
in my regiment, and has always evinced the greatest devotion for me.
More than once in battle he has saved my life, and has, for the last three
years, been my servant, and has nursed me since I have been ill as
tenderly as a woman could have done. As I shall have time to tell you
everything when I arrive, I will say no more now."
The news had much affected John Thorndyke. His brother George was
five years his senior, and had gone out as a cadet in the company's
service when John was but thirteen,
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