To-morrow | Page 9

Carvil in- side. "Bessie!--my pipe!" That fat blind man had given himself up to a very lust of laziness. He would not lift his hand to reach for the things she took care to leave at his very elbow. He would not move a limb; he would not rise from his chair, he would not put one foot before another, in that par- lour (where he knew his way as well as if he had his sight), without calling her to his side and hanging all his atrocious weight on her shoulder. He would not eat one single mouthful of food without her close attendance. He had made himself helpless beyond his affliction, to enslave her better. She stood still for a moment, setting her teeth in the dusk, then turned and walked slowly indoors.
Captain Hagberd went back to his spade. The shouting in Carvil's cottage stopped, and after a while the window of the parlour downstairs was lit up. A man coming from the end of the street with a firm leisurely step passed on, but seemed to have caught sight of Captain Hagberd, because he turned back a pace or two. A cold white light lin- gered in the western sky. The man leaned over the gate in an interested manner.
"You must be Captain Hagberd," he said, with easy assurance.
The old man spun round, pulling out his spade, startled by the strange voice.
"Yes, I am," he answered nervously.
The other, smiling straight at him, uttered very slowly: "You've been advertising for your son, I believe?"
"My son Harry," mumbled Captain Hagberd, off his guard for once. "He's coming home to- morrow."
"The devil he is!" The stranger marvelled greatly, and then went on, with only a slight change of tone: "You've grown a beard like Father Christmas himself."
Captain Hagberd drew a little nearer, and leaned forward over his spade. "Go your way," he said, resentfully and timidly at the same time, because he was always afraid of being laughed at. Every mental state, even madness, has its equi- librium based upon self-esteem. Its disturbance causes unhappiness; and Captain Hagberd lived amongst a scheme of settled notions which it pained him to feel disturbed by people's grins. Yes, peo- ple's grins were awful. They hinted at something wrong: but what? He could not tell; and that stranger was obviously grinning--had come on purpose to grin. It was bad enough on the streets, but he had never before been outraged like this.
The stranger, unaware how near he was of hav- ing his head laid open with a spade, said seriously: "I am not trespassing where I stand, am I? I fancy there's something wrong about your news. Suppose you let me come in."
"YOU come in!" murmured old Hagberd, with inexpressible horror.
"I could give you some real information about your son--the very latest tip, if you care to hear."
"No," shouted Hagberd. He began to pace wildly to and fro, he shouldered his spade, he ges- ticulated with his other arm. "Here's a fellow-- a grinning fellow, who says there's something wrong. I've got more information than you're aware of. I've all the information I want. I've had it for years--for years--for years--enough to last me till to-morrow. Let you come in, indeed! What would Harry say?"
Bessie Carvil's figure appeared in black silhou- ette on the parlour window; then, with the sound of an opening door, flitted out before the other cot- tage, all black, but with something white over her head. These two voices beginning to talk sud- denly outside (she had heard them indoors) had given her such an emotion that she could not utter a sound.
Captain Hagberd seemed to be trying to find his way out of a cage. His feet squelched in the pud- dles left by his industry. He stumbled in the holes of the ruined grass-plot. He ran blindly against the fence.
"Here, steady a bit!" said the man at the gate, gravely stretching his arm over and catching him by the sleeve. "Somebody's been trying to get at you. Hallo! what's this rig you've got on? Storm canvas, by George!" He had a big laugh. "Well, you ARE a character!"
Captain Hagberd jerked himself free, and began to back away shrinkingly. "For the present," he muttered, in a crestfallen tone.
"What's the matter with him?" The stranger addressed Bessie with the utmost familiarity, in a deliberate, explanatory tone. "I didn't want to startle the old man." He lowered his voice as though he had known her for years. "I dropped into a barber's on my way, to get a twopenny shave, and they told me there he was something of a character. The old man has been a character all his life."
Captain Hagberd, daunted by the allusion to his clothing, had retreated inside, taking his spade with him; and the two