Peters Mother | Page 4

be," said Happy Jack. "There baint no warter put tu't, Joe Gudewyn. The warter-varl be tu handy vur yure brewin'."
"Zum of my customers has weak 'yeds, 'tis arl the better for they," said Goodwyn, calmly.
"Then charge 'em accardin', Mr. Landlord, charge 'em accardin', zays I. Warter doan't cost 'ee nart, du 'un?" said Happy Jack, triumphantly.
"'Ere be the doctor goin' on in's trap, while yu du be tarking zo," said the ploughman. "Lard, he du be a vast goer, be Joe Blundell."
"I drove zo vast as that, and vaster, when I kip a harse," said the road-mender, jealously. "'Ee be a young man, not turned vifty. I mind his vather and mother down tu Cullacott befar they was wed. Why doan't he go tu the war, that's what I zay?"
"Sir Timothy doan't hold wi' the war," said the landlord.
"Mar shame vor 'un," said Happy Jack. "But me and Zur Timothy, us made up our minds tu differ long ago. I'm arl vor vighting vurriners--Turks, Rooshans, Vrinchmen; 'tis arl one tu I."
"Why doan't 'ee volunteer thyself, Vather Jack? Thee baint turned nointy yit, be 'ee?" said a labourer, winking heavily, to convey to the audience that the suggestion was a humorous one.
"Ah, zo I wude, and shute Boers wi' the best on 'un. But the Governmint baint got the zince tu ax me," said Happy Jack, chuckling. "The young volk baint nigh zo knowing as I du be. Old Kruger wuden't ha' tuke in I, try as 'un wude. I be zo witty as iver I can be."
Dr. Blundell saluted the group before the inn as he turned his horse to climb the steep road to Barracombe.
No breath of wind stirred, and the smoke from the cottage chimneys was lying low in the valley, hovering over the river in the still air.
A few primroses peeped out of sheltered corners under the hedge, and held out a timid promise of spring. The doctor followed the red road which wound between Sir Timothy's carefully enclosed plantations of young larch, passed the lodge gates, which were badly in need of repair, and entered the drive.
CHAPTER II
The justice-room was a small apartment in the older portion of Barracombe House; the low windows were heavily latticed, and faced west.
Sir Timothy sat before his writing-table, which was heaped with papers, directories, and maps; but he could no longer see to read or write. He made a stiff pretence of rising to greet the doctor as he entered, and then resumed his elbow-chair.
The rapidly failing daylight showed a large elderly, rather pompous gentleman, with a bald head, grizzled whiskers, and heavy plebeian features.
His face was smooth and unwrinkled, as the faces of prosperous and self-satisfied persons sometimes are, even after sixty, which was the age Sir Timothy had attained.
Dr. Blundell, who sat opposite his patient, was neither prosperous nor self-satisfied.
His dark clean-shaven face was deeply lined; care or over-work had furrowed his brow; and the rather unkempt locks of black hair which fell over it were streaked with white. From the deep-set brown eyes looked sadness and fatigue, as well as a great kindness for his fellow-men.
"I came the moment I received your letter," he said. "I had no idea you were back from London already."
"Dr. Blundell," said Sir Timothy, pompously, "when I took the very unusual step of leaving home the day before yesterday, I had resolved to follow the advice you gave me. I went to fulfil an appointment I had made with a specialist."
"With Sir James Power?"
"No, with a man named Herslett. You may have heard of him."
"Heard of him!" ejaculated Blundell. "Why, he's world-famous! A new man. Very clever, of course. If anything, a greater authority. Only I fancied you would perhaps prefer an older, graver man."
"No doubt I committed a breach of medical etiquette," said Sir Timothy, in self-satisfied tones. "But I fancied you might have written your version of the case to Power. Ah, you did? Exactly. But I was determined to have an absolutely unbiassed opinion."
"Well," said Blundell, gently.
"Well--I got it, that's all," said Sir Timothy. The triumph seemed to die out of his voice.
"Was it--unsatisfactory?"
"Not from your point of view," said the squire, with a heavy jocularity which did not move the doctor to mirth. "I'm bound to say he confirmed your opinion exactly. But he took a far more serious view of my case than you do."
"Did he?" said Blundell, turning away his head.
"The operation you suggested as a possible necessity must be immediate. He spoke of it quite frankly as the only possible chance of saving my life, which is further endangered by every hour of delay."
"Fortunately," said Blundell, cheerfully, "you have a fine constitution, and you have lived a healthy abstemious life. That is all in your favour."
"I am over sixty years of age," said Sir Timothy,