Kirkland Revels (3 page)

” It’s the dog who looks hungry,” I commented.

” Lord love you, lady, I haven’t had a bite I could share with him these last two days.”

” The rope’s hurting him,” I pointed out. ” Can’t you see that?”

” It’s the only way I can get him along. I’d carry him, if I had the strength. With a little food in me I’d get back me strength.”

I said on impulse: “I’ll buy the dog. I’ll give you a shilling for him.”

” A shilling! Why, lady, I couldn’t bear to part with him. My little friend, that’s what he’s been.” She stooped to the dog, and the way in which he cowered betrayed the true state of affairs, so that I was doubly determined to get him.

“Times is hard, ain’t they, little ‘un?” she went on.

“But we’ve been together too long now for us to be parted for … a shilling.”

I felt in my pockets for money. I knew she would finally accept a shilling for him because she would have to sell a great many clothes-pegs to earn as much; but, being a gipsy, she was going to bargain first. Then to my dismay I discovered that I had come out without money. In the pocket of my habit was one of Fanny’s patties, stuffed with meat and onions, which I had brought with me in case I should not return for luncheon; but it was hardly likely that the gipsy

17 would exchange the dog for that. It was money she wanted; and her eyes had already begun to glisten at the thought of it.

She was watching me intently; so was the dog. Her eyes had grown crafty and suspicious, and the dog’s were more appealing than ever.

I began: ” Look here, I’ve come out without money …”

But even as I spoke her lips curled in disbelief. She gave a vicious jerk at the rope round the dog’s neck and he gave a piteous yelp. “

Quiet!” she snapped; and he cowered again, with his eyes on me.

I wondered whether I could ask the woman to wait at this spot while I rode home to get the money, or whether she would allow me to take the dog and she could call at Glen House for it. I knew that was useless, for she would not trust me any more than I would trust her.

And it was then, as if by chance, that Gabriel appeared. He was galloping across the moor towards the road, and at the sound of a horse’s hoofs the woman and I turned to see who was coming. He was on a black horse which made him seem fairer than he actually was, but his fairness made an immediate impression; so did his elegance. His dark brown coat and breeches were of the finest material and cut; but as he came nearer it was his face which attracted my attention and made it possible for me to do what I did. Looking back afterwards it seemed a strange thing to do to stop a stranger and ask him to lend me a shilling to buy a dog. But there he was, I told him afterwards, like a knight in shining armour, a Perseus or St. George.

There was a brooding melancholy about his delicate features which immediately interested me, although’ this was not so apparent on our first meeting as it was to become later.

I called to him as he came on to the road: ” Stop a moment, please.”

And even as I said it, I marvelled at my temerity.

” Is anything wrong?” he asked.

“Yes. This dog is starving.”

He pulled up and looked from me to the dog and the gipsy woman, summing up the situation as he did so.

” Poor little fellow,” he said. ” He’s in a bad way.”

His voice was gentle, and I was immediately exhilarated because I knew that I should not ask for help in vain.

” I want to buy him,” I explained, ” and I’ve come out without money.

It’s most annoying and distressing. Will you please lend me a shilling? “

” Look here,” whined the woman. ” 1 ain’t selling him. Not for no shilling, I ain’t. He’s my little dog, he is. Why should I sell him?”

” You were ready to for a shilling,” I retorted.

She shook her head and pulled the dog towards her; and I again felt that twinge of compassion as I saw the little animal’s reluctance. I looked pleadingly at the young man, who smiled as he dismounted, put his hand in his pocket and said:

” Here’s two shillings for the dog. You can take it or leave it.”

The woman could not hide her delight at so large a sum. She held out a dirty hand for the money which, with a fastidious gesture, he dropped into her palm. Then he took the rope from her, and she moved away quickly as though she were afraid he would change his mind.

” Thank you,” I cried. ” Oh, thank you.”

The dog made a little whimpering sound which I felt to be pleasure. “

The first thing to be done is feed him,” I said, dismounting. “

Fortunately I have a meat patty in my pocket.”

He nodded and, taking the reins from my hands, led our horses off the road while I picked up the dog, who made a feeble attempt to wag his tail. I sat down on the grass and took the patty from my pocket; I fed the dog, who ate ravenously while the young man stood by holding the horses.

” Poor little dog,” he said. ” He’s had a bad time.”

“I don’t know how to begin to thank you,” I told him.

“What would have happened if you hadn’t come along is unthinkable. She would never have given him to me.”

” Don’t let’s brood on that,” he said. ” We have him now.”

I was drawn towards him because I knew that he cared as much about the dog’s fate as I did; and the dog, from that moment, became a bond between us.

” I shall take him home and look after him,” I said. ” Do you think he’ll recover?”

” I am sure he will. He’s a tough little mongrel, I imagine, but hardly the dog to spend his days on a lady’s velvet cushion.”

” He’s my sort of dog,” I replied.

” You should feed him regularly and often.”

” It is what I intend to do. When I get him home I shall give him some warm milk a little at a time.

The dog knew we were talking about him, but the effort of eating, together with the excitement, had been exhausting, and he lay very still. I wanted to get home as quickly as 19 possible and begin looking after him; but at the same time I was loath to say good-bye to the man. His melancholy expression, which I believed might well be habitual with him, had lifted when he had bargained for the dog and had presented him to me, and I was anxious to know what could have happened to a young man, who was clearly blessed with a goodly share of the comforts of life, to have produced that melancholy. I was curious about him, and it was stimulating to discover this curiosity in myself at the very time that I had acquired my interest in the dog. I was torn between two desires: I wanted to stay and learn more about the man, and at the same time I wanted to take the dog home and feed him.

I knew, of course, that there must be no question what I did, for the dog was dangerously near death by starvation.

” I must be going,” I said.

He nodded.

“I’ll carry him, shall I?” he replied; and without waiting for my reply, he helped me to mount. He gave me the dog to hold while he mounted; then he took the little creature from me and, tucking him under his arm, said:

“Which way?”

I showed him and we set out. In twenty minutes we had reached Glengreen, scarcely speaking on the way there. At the gates of Glen House we paused.

” He’s really yours,” I said. ” You paid for him.”

” Then I make a gift of him to you.” His eyes smiled into mine. ” But I shall retain rights in him. I shall want to know whether he lives or not. May I call and ask?”

” Of course.”

“Tomorrow?”

” If you wish.”

” And for whom shall I ask?”

“For Miss Corder … Catherine Corder.”

“Thank you. Miss Corder. Gabriel Rockwell will call on you tomorrow.”

Fanny was horrified by the presence of the dog. ” Happen there’ll be dog’s hairs all over t’place. Happen we’ll be finding whiskers in t’soup and fleas in our beds.”

I said nothing. I fed the dog myself . on bread and milk in small quantities, at intervals, all through the rest of the day and once in the night. I found a basket and I took him to my bedroom. It was the happiest night since my return, and I wondered why I never thought of asking for a dog when I was a child. Perhaps it was because I knew that Fanny would never have allowed me to have one. 20 What did it matter I had him now.

He knew I was his friend right from the start. He lay in the basket too weak to move, but his eyes told me that he understood what I was doing was for his good. Those eyes, already loving, patiently followed me as I moved. I knew that he would be my friend as long as he lived.

I wondered what to call him; he must have a name. I could not go on thinking of him as the gipsy’s dog. Then I remembered that I had found him on a Friday and I thought: Hell be my Dog Friday. And from then he had his name.

By the morning he was on the way to recovery. I waited for the coming of Gabriel for, now that my anxieties about the dog were over, I began to think more of the man who had shared the adventure. I was a little disappointed because he did not come in the morning, and I felt sad because I was afraid he might have forgotten us by now. I did want to say thank you to him, because I was sure Friday owed his life to his timely arrival.

He came in the afternoon. It was three o’clock, and I was in my room with the dog when I heard the sound of horse’s hoofs below. Friday’s ears twitched and his tail moved as though he knew that the other one to whom he would be for ever grateful was near.

I looked out of my window, standing well back so that he could not see me if he should chance to look up. He was certainly handsome but in a somewhat delicate way, not as we expected our men to be in Yorkshire.

He had an aristocratic air. I had noticed this on the previous day but I had wondered whether I had imagined it because of the contrast he made with Friday’s previous mistress.

I went downstairs hastily because I did not want him to be ungraciously received.

I was wearing a dark blue velvet afternoon dress my best because I was expecting him, and I had wound my plaits to form a coronet on the top of my head.

I went out into the drive just as he came up. He swept off his hat in a manner which I knew would be called ” daft” by Fanny, but I thought it elegant and the height of courtesy.

” So you came!” I said. ” Dog Friday will recover. I’ve christened him after the day on which he was found.”

He had dismounted and at that moment Mary appeared. I made her call one of the stable-boys to lead his horse round to the stable, and water and feed him. 21 ” Come in,” I said, and when Gabriel came into the hall, the house seemed brighter for his presence.

” Let me take you up to the drawing-room,” I said, ” and I will ring for tea.”

He followed me up the stairs while I told him how I was treating Friday. ” I shall bring him down to show you. You will see a great improvement.”

In the drawing-room I pulled back the curtains and drew up the Venetian blinds. Now it seemed more cheerful or perhaps that was due to Gabriel. When he sat in one of the arm-chairs, and smiled at me, I was conscious that in my blue velvet with my neatly plaited hair I looked very different from the girl in the riding-habit.

” I’m glad you were able to save him,” he said.

” You did that.”

He looked pleased and I rang the bell, which was’ almost immediately answered by Janet.

She-stared at my visitor and, when I told her to bring tea, she looked as though I were asking for the moon.

Five minutes later Fanny came in; she had an indignant air and I felt angry with her. She would have to realise that I was now mistress of the house.

” So it’s visitors,” said Fanny ungraciously.

” Yes, Fanny, we have a visitor. Pray see that tea is not long delayed.”

Fanny pursed her lips; I could see that she was trying to make some retort, but I turned my back on her and said to Gabriel: ” I trust you did not have to ride far.”

” From the Black Hart Inn in Tomblersbury.”

I knew Tomblersbury. It was a small village, rather like our own, some five or six miles away. ‘” You are staying at the Black Hart?”

” Yes, for a short while.”

” You must be on holiday.”

” You could call it that.”

“Your home is in Yorkshire, Mr. Rockwell? But I am asking too many questions.”

I was aware that Fanny had left the room. I could imagine her going to the kitchen or perhaps to my father’s study. She would consider it most unseemly for me to entertain a gentle man alone. Let heri It was time she and my father under stood that the life I was called upon to live was not only exceedingly lonely but one unsuitable for a young lady of my education.

“No,” he replied, “please ask me as many questions a& you like. If I cannot answer them, I shall say so.”

” Where is your home, Mr. Rockwell?”

” The house is called Kirkland Revels, and it is situated in the village or rather on the outskirts of the village of Kirkland Moorside.”

” Kirkland Revels! That sounds joyous.”

The expression which flitted across his face was enough to tell me that my remark made him uncomfortable. It had told me something else; he was not happy in his home life. Was that the reason for that moodiness of his? I ought to have curbed my curiosity regarding his private affairs but I found it exceedingly difficult to do so.

I said quickly: ” Kirkland Moorside … is that far from here?”

” Some thirty miles perhaps.”

“And you are on holiday in this district, and you were taking a ride on the moors when …”

” When our little adventure occurred. You cannot be more glad than I am that it happened.”

I felt reassured that the temporary awkwardness was past and I said: “

If you will excuse me, I will bring Friday down to show you.”

When I returned with the dog, my father was in the room. I guessed Fanny had insisted on his joining us and that even he had ‘been conscious of the proprieties. Gabriel was telling how we had acquired the dog and my father was being charming ; he listened attentively and I was pleased that he manifested an interest even though I did not believe h& really felt it.