Should auld acquaintance be forgot?
By this time Stephen Smith had stepped out upon the quay at Castle Boterel,and breathed his native air.
A darker skin,a more pronounced moustache,and an incipient beard,were the chief additions and changes noticeable in his appearance.
In spite of the falling rain,which had somewhat lessened,he took a small valise in his hand,and,leaving the remainder of his luggage at the inn,ascended the hills towards East Endelstow.
This place lay in a vale of its own,further inland than the west village,and though so near it,had little of physical feature in common with the latter.East Endelstow was more wooded and fertile:it boasted of Lord Luxellians mansion and park,and was free from those bleak open uplands which lent such an air of desolation to the vicinage of the coast--always excepting the small valley in which stood the vicarage and Mrs.Swancourts old house,The Crags.
Stephen had arrived nearly at the summit of the ridge when the rain again increased its volume,and,looking about for temporary shelter,he ascended a steep path which penetrated dense hazel bushes in the lower part of its course.Further up it emerged upon a ledge immediately over the turnpike-road,and sheltered by an overhanging face of rubble rock,with bushes above.For a reason of his own he made this spot his refuge from the storm,and turning his face to the left,conned the landscape as a book.
He was overlooking the valley containing Elfrides residence.
From this point of observation the prospect exhibited the peculiarity of being either brilliant foreground or the subdued tone of distance,a sudden dip in the surface of the country lowering out of sight all the intermediate prospect.In apparent contact with the trees and bushes growing close beside him appeared the distant tract,terminated suddenly by the brink of the series of cliffs which culminated in the tall giant without a name--small and unimportant as here beheld.A leaf on a bough at Stephens elbow blotted out a whole hill in the contrasting district far away;a green bunch of nuts covered a complete upland there,and the great cliff itself was outvied by a pigmy crag in the bank hard by him.Stephen had looked upon these things hundreds of times before to-day,but he had never viewed them with such tenderness as now.
Stepping forward in this direction yet a little further,he could see the tower of West Endelstow Church,beneath which he was to meet his Elfride that night.And at the same time he noticed,coming over the hill from the cliffs,a white speck in motion.It seemed first to be a sea-gull flying low,but ultimately proved to be a human figure,running with great rapidity.The form flitted on,heedless of the rain which had caused Stephens halt in this place,dropped down the heathery hill,entered the vale,and was out of sight.
Whilst he meditated upon the meaning of this phenomenon,he was surprised to see swim into his ken from the same point of departure another moving speck,as different from the first as well could be,insomuch that it was perceptible only by its blackness.Slowly and regularly it took the same course,and there was not much doubt that this was the form of a man.He,too,gradually descended from the upper levels,and was lost in the valley below.
The rain had by this time again abated,and Stephen returned to the road.Looking ahead,he saw two men and a cart.They were soon obscured by the intervention of a high hedge.Just before they emerged again he heard voices in conversation.
A must soon be in the naibourhood,too,if so be hes a-coming,said a tenor tongue,which Stephen instantly recognized as Martin Cannisters.
A must a blieve,said another voice--that of Stephens father.
Stephen stepped forward,and came before them face to face.His father and Martin were walking,dressed in their second best suits,and beside them rambled along a grizzel horse and brightly painted spring-cart.
All right,Mr.Cannister;heres the lost man!exclaimed young Smith,entering at once upon the old style of greeting.Father,here I am.
All right,my sonny;and glad I be fort!returned John Smith,overjoyed to see the young man.How be ye?Well,come along home,and dont lets bide out here in the damp.Such weather must be terrible bad for a young chap just come from a fiery nation like Indy;hey,naibour Cannister?
Trew,trew.And about getting home his traps?Boxes,monstrous bales,and noble packages of foreign deion,I make no doubt?
Hardly all that,said Stephen laughing.
We brought the cart,maning to go right on to Castle Boterel afore ye landed,said his father."Put in the horse,"says Martin."Ay,"says I,"so we will;"and did it straightway.Now,maybe,Martin had better go on withe cart for the things,and you and I walk home-along.
And I shall be back amost as soon as you.Peggy is a pretty step still,though time dbegin to tell upon her as upon the rest ous.
Stephen told Martin where to find his baggage,and then continued his journey homeward in the company of his father.
Owing to your coming a day sooner than we first expected,said John,youll find us in a turk of a mess,sir--"sir,"says I to my own son!but yeve gone up so,Stephen.Weve killed the pig this morning for ye,thinking yed be hungry,and glad of a morsel of fresh mate.And a wont be cut up till to-night.However,we can make ye a good supper of fry,which will chaw up well wia dab omustard and a few nice new taters,and a drop of shilling ale to wash it down.Your mother have scrubbed the house through because ye were coming,and dusted all the chimmer furniture,and bought a new basin and jug of a travelling crockery-woman that came to our door,and scoured the cannel-sticks,and claned the winders!Ay,I dont know what a hant a done.Never were such a steer,a blieve.
Conversation of this kind and inquiries of Stephen for his mothers wellbeing occupied them for the remainder of the journey.
