now for a space i lay hid under the wall, having no mind to enter the garden and meet my uncle, but seeking time to review the perils threatening me, and the steps by which i should avoid them. i believed that blunt, ere he made his offer to my uncle, had already planned with the old rogues my removal from the house, and that of this the girl evelyn milne would have warned me. i thought first of going immediately to my grandfather and of laying the plot before him; having with me always the thought of the broken figure, of the will striving ever to prevail over decay, i could perceive little hope from such a course. had miss milne faced me now; had she appealed to me to take her out of the house, and escape with her to my friends, i should have hesitated not at all; my concern for myself urged me to instant flight; yet i was no such coward as to take to my heels, and leave her friendless in a house of which she had expressed such terror. i could devise no better plan than further to search the wood for her, and if i failed p. 208to find her, proceed to seek out sir gavin masters, tell my tale to him, and urge his intervention and protection for us, and his immediate communication with mr. bradbury. i marvelled that one so acute as mr. bradbury, knowing the character of the house and its folks, and the peril i must encounter, should have thought fit to leave me at rogues’ haven.
i remained hid under the wall, till blunt and martin should be well away; crawling back then to the wood i sought the girl as best i might, fearing to call her name, lest i bring my enemies upon me. failing, i forced my way out of the old plantation; struggled through a ditch; climbed through a sunken fence, and muddy and torn with brambles, sought the road by which mr. bradbury had brought me to craike house.
it was now toward noon of a clear day; the wood was green about me; the sunlight and the sense of freedom after the terrors of the close old house restored my spirits speedily. i had a certain compunction at my flight—leaving the girl, and, indeed, my grandfather, old and broken, among the covetous rogues. i told myself that i should save them better by reaching sir gavin masters, yet i could not rid my mind of the thought that by running off in fear of blunt i played the coward. so much at last this p. 209thought concerned me, that even on the very bank above the road i stood irresolute. not yet was i resolved when the sound of hoof-beats made me cower into the grass, for fear lest any of my enemies should ride that way. peering through the covert, i saw a stout red-coated gentleman mounted on a cob; with joy i recognised sir gavin masters. he paused below me, sheltering his eyes with his hand against the sun, he was staring up toward craike house, whose chimney stacks alone showed above the wood. as i rose out of the grass, he uttered an exclamation; his hand sought the pistol in his holster.
“sir gavin,” cried i, “don’t you know me—john craike?”
“aha, master craike—aha!” he laughed and touched his hat with his whip. “what are you doing here, lad? walking abroad?”
“seeking you, sir gavin. asking your help and advice. purposing as soon as i may to seek mr. bradbury in london.”
“oho, not liking the house and the folk in it,” drawing in by the bank, and beckoning me to him.
standing beside him, i saw that his face, which i had thought dull as worthy mr. chelton’s, was marked by a certain strength and intelligence; his eyes watched me shrewdly. he muttered, p. 210“so you’ve had trouble, lad! you want advice from me and bradbury. well then!”
“mr. bradbury being now in london—” i began.
“mr. bradbury,” he laughed, “is no further away than at my house. that’s for your ear alone. he’s within your reach whenever you may have need of him.”
“i’ve need of him at once,” i said, overjoyed.
“must you have speech with him?” he asked, “or is it a word that i may carry to him?” i looked at him doubtfully; he went on swiftly, “mr. bradbury made no mention to you of his association with me, i being newly-appointed justice of the peace for these parts, and bent on enforcing his majesty’s laws, and putting an end to a variety of evil-doings. i’m well-informed of bradbury’s wishes. it’s his wish that you remain at craike house. you’re running away. why?”
“having overheard a pretty plot to put me aboard blunt’s ship and get me out of england. fearing—ay, fearing though you think me a coward, sir, to stay in the house with never a friend.”
“young oliver! you’ve been riding abroad with him; you were swimming in the sea with him this morn. you seemed friends.”
p. 211“you saw us, sir?”
“some of my folk. oliver’s your friend?”
“yes, my friend, but—”
“i tell you this, john craike,” he said, impatiently, “if you’ll believe me and trust me and my folk, knowing that bradbury’s within reach, you’ll go back to the house. i promise you none of the rogues in the house’ll do you hurt, while old mr. edward lives, and i promise you blunt’ll never take you out of it or ship you aboard. for blunt’ll never sail.” he spoke now in low and earnest tone, his eyes keeping a sharp watch, as if apprehensive lest any overhear or see us together. “hark ’ee,” he said, “go back! it’s well that you stay to profit by your grandfather’s fancy for you. take my assurance for it, lad; my plans and bradbury’s are surely set; they’re one and the same. take my word for it.”
“ay, but the old man’s near to dying,” i said, doubtfully.
he muttered, “so! bradbury gave me no word of it.”
rapidly i recounted the nature of my interviews with my grandfather, his orders to his servants, his collapse on that first morning, my belief that his reason tottered,—all the whispering menace of the rogues about us. i told him of my p. 212uncle’s conversation with blunt and martin, and of the warning from miss milne.
he heard me attentively, his brows frowning. he said at last, “ay, ay,—and for all bradbury’s plans it’s high time to make an end—high time! but first i must have a word with bradbury. will you go back this day assured that speedily you’ll hear from us?”
i answered, “if you’ll have it so, sir gavin, surely i’ll go.”
he dipped his hand into his holster; drew out a pistol; and handed it to me swiftly. he took a little bag from his pocket, and muttered, “the barker’s loaded. here’s powder and ball. in case you need it, lad. you go back!”
i answered, “yes, i’ll go back, and i’ll remain till i hear from mr. bradbury and understand his wishes.”
he said, “i promise you you’ll hear from us at once, lad!”—and as i plunged up the bank, he turned his cob and rode off rapidly.
