The Lord of the Sea | Page 5

strike me as I am long for this
world: a queer feeling I've had in this left side the last hour or two; and
there's that Circular--I never heard of such a thing in all my born days.
But what can we do? You'll have to wear the cap--or be turned out.
Always I've said to myself, from a young man: 'Get hold of a bit of
land someways as your own God's own': but I never did; the days went
by and by, and it all seems no longer than an after-dinner nap in a barn
on a hot harvest-day. But a bit of land--the man who has that can make
all the rest work to keep him. And if they turn me out, I couldn't live,
lad: the old house has got into my bones, somehow. Anyhow, I think
the time is come to tell you in my own way how the thing was. No son
are you of mine, Richard. Your mother, Rachel, who was a Londoner,
served me an ill turn while we were sweethearting, hankering after
another man--a Jew millionaire he was, she being a governess in his
house; but, Richard, I couldn't give her up: I married her three months
before you were born; and not a living creature knows, except, perhaps,
one--perhaps one: a priest he was, called O'Hara. But that's how it was.
Your father was a Jew, and your mother was a Jew, and you are a Jew,
and in the under-bottom of the old grey trunk you will find a roll of
papers. Are you hearkening? And don't you be ashamed of being a Jew,

boy--they are the people who've got the money; and money buys land,
Richard. Nor your father did not do so badly by you, either: his name
was Spinoza--Sir Solomon Spinoza--"
At that point Margaret, bearing a lamp, entered, followed by Loveday,
and at the sight of Richard uttered a cry.
V
REID'S
By noon Hogarth knew the news: his hundred and fifty at Reid's were
gone; and he owed for the Michaelmas quarter--twenty-one pounds five,
his only chattels of value being the thresher, not yet paid for, half a rick,
seed, manure, and "the furniture". If he could realize enough for rent,
he would lack capital for wages and cultivation, for Reid's had been his
credit-bank.
After dinner he stood long at a window, then twisted away, and walked
to Thring, where he captained in a football match, Loveday watching
his rage, his twisting waist, and then accompanying him home: but in
the dining-room they found the lord-of-the-manor's bailiff; and
Loveday, divining something embarrassing, took himself away.
The same evening there were two appraisers in the house, and the
bailiff, on their judgment, took possession of the chattels on the holding
except some furniture, and some agricultural "fixtures". The sale was
arranged for the sixth day.
From the old Hogarth the truth could no longer be hidden...
Two days he continued quiet in the old nook by the hearth,
apparently
in a kind of dotage doze; but on the third, he began to poke about,
hobbled into the dairy, peered into the churn, touched the skimmer.
"You'll have to wear the cap", Margaret heard him mutter--"or be
turned out".

As if taking farewell, he would get up, as at a sudden thought, to go to
visit something. He kept murmuring: "I always said, Get a bit of land as
your own, but I never did; the days went by and by...."
Margaret, meantime, was busy, binding beds with sheets, making
bundles, preparing for the flitting, with a heaving breast; till, on the
fifth day, a van stood loaded with their things at the halldoor, and she,
with untidy hair, was helping heave the last trunk upon the backboard,
when the carman said: "Mrs. Mackenzie says, mum, the things mustn't
be took to the cottage, except you pay in advance".
Now Margaret stood at a loss; but in a minute went bustling, deciding
to go to Loveday, not without twinges of reluctance: for Loveday, with
instinctive delicacy, had lately kept from the farm; and to Margaret,
whose point of view was different, the words "false friends" had
occurred.
Passing through an alley of the forest, she was met by a man--a
park-keeper of Frankl's--a German Jew, who had once handed her a
note from Frankl. And he, on seeing her, said: "Here have I a letter for
your brother".
"Who from?" she asked.
"That may I not say".
When he handed her an envelope rather stuffed with papers, she went
on her flurried way; and soon Loveday was bowing before her in his
sitting-room at Priddlestone.
"You will be surprised to see me, Mr. Loveday," said she, panting.
"A little surprised, but most awfully glad, too. Is all well?"