VC -- A Chronicle of Castle Barfield and of the Crimea | Page 8

sipping from time to time to moisten his dry lips.
'You know,' he said, glancing at the floor and at the faces round him alternately, 'you know that when old General Airey died, that young cub De Blacquaire came into the Droitwich property.'
'Well,' said John Jervase, 'we know that. Go on. What about it?'
'You know,' said James, 'that his property and ours neighboured each other. The young skunk has trumped up a charge against us of having tapped his brine, and having lived on the property of his estate for twenty years past.'
'Well,' said--John Jervase, 'that's a pretty cool piece of impudence, to be sure! But what is there to make a howl about?'
'He has got some suborned evidence from somewhere,' James answered, 'some scoundrels who pretend that they were employed by you and me to do the work.'
'Well,' said John once more, 'what is there in that to make a howl about? Is there no law in England--is there no way of making a fool and a knave smart for it, if they see fit to assail the reputation of two honest men like you and me, James? 'His voice began to take something of its old ring. 'I wonder at you--tearin' up like a madman at this time o' night, and in this weather, with a yam like that. Why, man, what's come to you? Missus,' he turned towards his wife, 'tell one of the wenches to get James a change, and when he's done that well sit down in quiet, and talk this matter over.'
'De Blacquaire!' he went on, as his wife left the room to obey his order. 'De Blacquaire, indeed! Who's De Blacquaire?
It'll go pretty hard with you and me, James, if we can't put down a pound between us where he can put down twenty shillings. And libel's libel in this country, James, and them as chooses to talk it can be made to pay for it And any man as assaults the honest fame of Jack Jervase has got Jack Jervase to tackle, my lad. I've fowt the Queen's enemies, and I've fowt my own, and I'll stand fightin' till I die.'
'My dear Jervase,' said the General. 'My dear Mr. James! I need not tell you, I am sure, how entirely certain I am that a very grievous error has been made in this matter. But I can't understand--I really cannot understand--why an absurd charge of that sort should be at all disturbing to you.' He turned upon Mr. James with an air of mild remonstrance, and laid a friendly hand upon his shoulder. 'Really, really, really,' he said, 'I thought you had more courage.'
Mr. James was for the moment entirely deprived of that most useful quality. What with the chill which was coming upon him after a hasty and dangerous ride in that pelting rain and bitter wind through which he had travelled, and what with the perturbation of his spirit, he trembled like a shaken jelly, and his eyes were full of terror. John Jervase, obviously with the intent to make a diversion, turned upon him with a question.
'Didn't you come on horseback? 'he asked. His cousin stared at him with an idiotic want of apprehension of the question's meaning. 'Didn't you come on horseback?' Jervase asked more loudly than before.
'I--I suppose so,' stammered James.
'Suppose so! 'his cousin snarled at him, laying an unfriendly hand upon him and jolting him roughly to and fro. 'You came on a horse, didn't you? And if you didn't, how the devil did you get here?'
'Yes, yes, John,' the trembling rascal answered. 'I came on horseback, to be sure--of course I came on horseback. How else,' he asked feebly, 'could I have got here on a night like this?'
'Then where's the horse? 'Jervase demanded.
'I don't know,' said James. 'He has been here before, he knows his way to the stables. I--I heard him clattering off in that direction, I am almost sure.' He made a pitiable attempt to collect himself, and prattled on. 'Oh, yes, I am quite sure now--he clattered off towards the stables--I remember--he has been here before, and he would know his way. He's in the grounds in any case, for I know that the gate closed behind him.'
'Why didn't you stop for half a minute, anyhow? 'asked Jervase, who was glad of a chance to recover a seeming of composure for himself under the shelter of a pretended anger. 'Why didn't you give somebody the word in place of leaving a valuable beast like that wandering about in a tempest?
'I don't know,' James answered, as feebly as ever. 'I was in a hurry to get in.'
At this his cousin's temper broke altogether, or he was willing to relieve the tension of his own mind by allowing it to seem as if it