"Ezackly, sir! I quite agrees with ye; but women are allus a bit
worrity-like, and of course there's a deal to do, and she got
frightened with the keys, and when she saw them fine clothes, and
what not,--so I drawed her a glass of cherry-cordial, an' sez I,
'Now, old 'ooman,' sez I, 'don't skeer yerself into fits. I'll fetch
the passon to ye.' And with that, she seemed easier in her mind.
Lord love ye!--it's a great thing to fetch the passon at once when
there's anything a bit wrong. So, if you'd step up, sir?--"
Driven almost to despair, Walden put his lips close to the old man's
obstinate ear.
"Yes," he bellowed--"af-ter lun-cheon! Yes! Ye-es!"
His reply at last penetrated the closed auricular doors of Spruce's
brain.
"Thank you, kindly, sir, I'm sure," he said, still in the same meek
and quiet tone. "And if I might make so bold, sir, seein' there's
likely to be changes up at the Manor, if it should be needful to
speak for me and my old 'ooman, p'raps you'd be so good, sir? We
wouldn't like to leave the old place now, sir---"
His soft, hesitating voice faltered, and he suddenly brushed his
hand across his poor dim eyes. The pathos of this hint was not lost
on Walden, who, forgetting all his own momentary irritation, rose
manfully to the occasion and roared down the old man's ears like one
of the far-famed 'Bulls of Bashan.'
"Don't worry!" he yelled, his face becoming rapidly crimson with his
efforts; "I'll see you all right! You sha'n't leave the Manor if I
can prevent it! I'll speak for you! Cheer up! Do you hear! Che-er
up!"
Spruce heard very clearly this time, and smiled. "Thank you, Passon!
God bless you! I'm sure you'll help us, if so be the lady is a hard
one--"
He trusted himself to say no more, but with a brief respectful
salutation, put on his cap and turned away.
Left alone, Walden drew a long breath, and wiped his brow. To make
poor old Spruce hear was a powerful muscular exertion. Nebbie had
been so much astonished at the loud pitch of his master's voice,
that he had retired under a sofa in alarm, and only crawled out now
as Spruce departed, with small anxious waggings of his tail. Walden
patted the animal's head and laughed.
"Mind you don't get deaf in your old age, Nebbie!" he said. "Phew! A
little more shouting like that and I should be unable to preach to-
morrow!"
Still patting the dog's head, his eyes gradually darkened and his
brow became clouded.
"Poor Spruce!" he murmured. "'Help him, if so be the lady is a hard
one!' Already in fear of her! I expect they have heard something--
some ill-report--probably only too correctly founded. Yet, how it
goes against the grain of manhood to realise that any 'lady' may be
'a hard one!' But, alas!--what a multitude of 'hard ones' there are!
Harder than men, perhaps, if all the truth were known!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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