Clergy -- Fiction; English fiction; Lincolnshire (England) -- Fiction
"Poor Master Richard," he muttered--"a scandal-hatching, lying
scoundrel--as if the lad would think a wrong word about my lass. Well,"
he added, with a forced laugh, "that has stopped his mouth, and a good
many more, as I expect."
As he disappeared, Sim Slee slowly sat up, took out his handkerchief and
wiped his bleeding mouth. Then rising he walked on half a mile to where
a stream, known as the Beck, crossed the road, and there he stooped down
and bathed his cut lip till the bleeding ceased.
"All raight, Mester Joe Banks," he said, with a malicious look in his
eye. "All raight, I'll put that down to you, my lad. I shan't forget
it. Some men fights wi' their fists, and some don't. I'm one as don't;
but I can fight other ways. I'll be even wi' you, Joe Banks; I'll be
even wi' you. Thou blind owd bat. Think he'll marry her, dosta! Ha!
ha! ha! ha! All raight. Let it go on. Suppose I help it now, and then
get thee on our side after--a blind old fool, I shan't forget this."
Sim Slee washed his handkerchief carefully in the brook, spread it in
the sun to dry, and then lay down amongst the furze bushes to think,
till, seeing a couple of figures in the distance on the hill-side, he
caught up his handkerchief and, stooping down, ran along under the
shelter of the hedge, and on and on till he reached a fir plantation,
through which he made his way till he was within easy reach of the two
figures, in utter ignorance of his proximity.
"'Tis them," he muttered, peering out from the screen of leaves formed
by the undergrowth of the edge of the plantation. "'Tis them. Got his
arm round her waist, eh! A kiss, eh! Ha--ha--ha! Joe Banks, I shall
be upsides wi' you yet."
He glided back, and then, knowing every inch of the ground, he went to
the end of the copse, out on to the open hill-side, and, running fast,
made a circuit which brought him out on the track far beyond the
figures, who were hidden from him by the inequalities of the waste land,
close by where the vicar found Tom Podmore on his arrival.
Then, hastening on, he approached, stooping until he had well measured
his distance, when, pausing for a few minutes to gain his breath, he
walked on with his footsteps inaudible on the soft, velvety turf, till,
coming suddenly upon the two figures, seated behind a huge block of
stone, he stopped short, as if in surprise.
"Beg pardon, sir, didn't see," he said, with a smile and a leer.
"What the deuce do you want?" said Richard Glaire, starting to his feet,
while, with a faint cry, Daisy Banks ran a few steps.
"Why you quite scar'd me, sir," said Sim, "starting up like that. I've
only been for a walk out Chorley way. It's all raight, Miss Banks,
don't be scar'd; it's only me. I know, Mr Glaire, sir, I know. Young
folks and all that sort o' thing. We ain't friends about wuck matters,
but you may trust me."
He gave Richard a peculiar smile, shut one eye slowly, and walked on,
smiling at Daisy, whose face was crimson as he passed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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