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Read Ebook: Kiusanhenki: Satu by Hoffmann E T A Ernst Theodor Amadeus Tuomikoski Aino Translator
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Ebook has 1387 lines and 40907 words, and 28 pages
A dozen paces down the path, hidden by some rocks, ran the source of a tiny rivulet or beck, with water like crystal, and filling the cup he took from his flask, the vicar qualified it with whisky, handed it to his rough companion, and then drank a draught himself with a sigh of relief.
"I've walked across the hills from Churley," he said, as they re-seated themselves. "I wanted to see what the country was like."
"Ho!" said the workman. "Say, you ain't like the owd parson."
"I suppose not. Did you know him?"
"You used to go and hear him, I suppose?"
"Go and hear him? Well, that's a good one," said the workman; and a laugh transformed his face, driving away the sour, puckered look, which, however, began rapidly to return.
"What's the matter?" said the vicar, after a few minutes' silent smoking.
"Matter? matter wi' who?"
"Why, with you. What have you come up here for, all by yourself?"
"Nothing," was the reply, in the surliest of voices.
"Nonsense, man! Do you think I can't tell that you're put out--hipped-- and that something has annoyed you?"
The young man's face gave a twitch or two, and he shuffled half round in his seat. Then, leaping up, he began to hurry off.
The new vicar had caught him in a dozen strides, putting away his pipe as he walked.
"There," he said, "I won't ask any more questions about yourself. I'm going down into the town, and we may as well walk together."
The young workman turned round to face him, angrily, but the calm unruffled look of his superior disarmed him, and he gave a bit of a gulp and walked on.
"That's it, next the church," was the reply.
"Yes, I see; and what's that big building with the smoking chimneys?"
"Foundry," was said gruffly.
"To be sure, yes. Bell foundry, isn't it?"
"Yes." Then after a pause, "I work theer."
"Indeed?"
"Tell you what," said the young man, growing sociable in spite of himself; "yow get leave and I'll show you all about the works. No I wean't, though," he exclaimed, abruptly. "Cuss the works, I'll never go there no more."
The new vicar looked at him, tightening his lips a little.
"Another sore place, eh?" he said to himself, and turned the conversation once more.
"What sort of people are you at Dumford, my lad?"
"Hey? what sort o' people? Why, men and women and bairns, of course. What did you expect they weer?"
"I mean as to conduct," said the vicar, laughing. "What will they say to me, for instance?"
The young man's face grew less cloudy for a few moments, a broad, hearty, honest grin extending it so that he looked a frank, even handsome young fellow.
"They'll make it a bit warm for you, parson," he said at last.
"Eh? will they?" said the vicar, smiling. "Rough as you were, eh?"
"Oh no," said the other, quickly. "Don't you take no notice o' that. I ain't always that how. I was a bit popped this morning."
"You look as if you never had nought to make you waxy in your life," said the workman. "I say, what do they call you?"
"Call me? A parson, I suppose."
"No; I mean call you. What's your name?"
"Oh! Selwood--Murray Selwood."
"Murray Selwood," said the questioner, repeating it to himself. "It's a curus sort o' name. Why didn't they call you Tom, or Harry, or Sam when thou wast a bairn?"
"Can't say," said the vicar, smiling. "I was too young to have a voice in the matter."
"You couldn't help it, of course. Say, can yow play cricket?"
"Oh yes."
"Bowl a bit, I suppose!"
"Yes; I'm best with the ball."
"Round hand?"
"Yes, and pretty sharp."
"Give's yer hand, parson, I like yow, hang me if I don't; and I'll come and hear you fust Sunday as you preaches."
The two men joined hands, and the grasp was long, earnest, and friendly, for the Reverend Murray Selwood, coming down freshly to his new living amongst people who had been described to him as little better than savages, felt that he had won one rough heart to his side, and was gladdened by the frank open gaze that met his own.
The Reverend Murray Selwood saw and interpreted the change in a moment.
"Oh, 'tis love, 'tis love, 'tis love that makes the world go round," he said to himself; and he looked curiously at the little group upon which they had suddenly come on turning round by a group of weather-beaten, grey-lichened rocks.
There were two girls, one of whom was more than ankle-deep in a soft patch of bog, while the other was trying very hard to reach her and relieve her from her unpleasant predicament.
Danger there was none: a good wetting from the amber-hued bog water being all that need be feared; but as the corner by the rocks was turned it was evident that the spongy bog was now rapidly giving way, and if help were to be afforded it must be at once.
The young workman hesitated for a moment, and then half turned away his head, but the vicar ran forward as the maiden in distress cried sharply--
"Oh Daisy, Daisy, what shall I do?"
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