Текст книги "Страна Северного Ветра / At the Back of the North Wind"

Автор книги: Джордж МакДональд

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Текущая страница: 32 (всего у книги 35 страниц)

CHAPTER XXXIII. THE PROSPECT BRIGHTENS

THE next morning, Diamond's mother said to his father, “I'm not quite

comfortable about that child again.”

“Which child, Martha?” asked Joseph. “You've got a choice now.”

“Well, Diamond I mean. I'm afraid he's getting into his queer ways

again. He's been at his old trick of walking in his sleep. I saw him run

up the stair in the middle of the night.”

“Didn't you go after him, wife?”

“Of course I did–and found him fast asleep in his bed. It's because

he's had so little meat for the last six weeks, I'm afraid.”

“It may be that. I'm very sorry. But if it don't please God to send us

enough, what am I to do, wife?”

“You can't help it, I know, my dear good man,” returned Martha. “And

after all I don't know. I don't see why he shouldn't get on as well as

the rest of us. There I'm nursing baby all this time, and I get along

pretty well. I'm sure, to hear the little man singing, you wouldn't

think there was much amiss with him.”

For at that moment Diamond was singing like a lark in the clouds. He had

the new baby in his arms, while his mother was dressing herself. Joseph

was sitting at his breakfast–a little weak tea, dry bread, and very

dubious butter–which Nanny had set for him, and which he was enjoying

because he was hungry. He had groomed both horses, and had got old

Diamond harnessed ready to put to.

“Think of a fat angel, Dulcimer!” said Diamond.

The baby had not been christened yet, but Diamond, in reading his Bible,

had come upon the word dulcimer, and thought it so pretty that ever

after he called his sister Dulcimer!

“Think of a red, fat angel, Dulcimer!” he repeated; “for Ruby's an angel

of a horse, Dulcimer. He sprained his ankle and got fat on purpose.”

“What purpose, Diamond?” asked his father.

“Ah! that I can't tell. I suppose to look handsome when his master

comes,” answered Diamond.–“What do you think, Dulcimer? It must be for

some good, for Ruby's an angel.”

“I wish I were rid of him, anyhow,” said his father; “for he weighs

heavy on my mind.”

“No wonder, father: he's so fat,” said Diamond. “But you needn't be

afraid, for everybody says he's in better condition than when you had

him.”

“Yes, but he may be as thin as a tin horse before his owner comes. It

was too bad to leave him on my hands this way.”

“Perhaps he couldn't help it,” suggested Diamond. “I daresay he has some

good reason for it.”

“So I should have said,” returned his father, “if he had not driven such

a hard bargain with me at first.”

“But we don't know what may come of it yet, husband,” said his wife.

“Mr. Raymond may give a little to boot, seeing you've had more of the

bargain than you wanted or reckoned upon.”

“I'm afraid not: he's a hard man,” said Joseph, as he rose and went to

get his cab out.

Diamond resumed his singing. For some time he carolled snatches of

everything or anything; but at last it settled down into something like

what follows. I cannot tell where or how he got it.

            Where did you come from, baby dear?

            Out of the everywhere into here.

            Where did you get your eyes so blue?

            Out of the sky as I came through.

            What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?

            Some of the starry spikes left in.

            Where did you get that little tear?

            I found it waiting when I got here.

            What makes your forehead so smooth and high?

            A soft hand stroked it as I went by.

            What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?

            I saw something better than any one knows.

            Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?

            Three angels gave me at once a kiss.

            Where did you get this pearly ear?

            God spoke, and it came out to hear.

            Where did you get those arms and hands?

            Love made itself into hooks and bands.

            Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?

            From the same box as the cherubs' wings.

            How did they all just come to be you?

            God thought about me, and so I grew.

            But how did you come to us, you dear?

            God thought about you, and so I am here.

“You never made that song, Diamond,” said his mother.

“No, mother. I wish I had. No, I don't. That would be to take it from

somebody else. But it's mine for all that.”

“What makes it yours?”

“I love it so.”

“Does loving a thing make it yours?”

“I think so, mother–at least more than anything else can. If I didn't

love baby (which couldn't be, you know) she wouldn't be mine a bit. But

I do love baby, and baby is my very own Dulcimer.”

“The baby's mine, Diamond.”

“That makes her the more mine, mother.”

“How do you make that out?”

“Because you're mine, mother.”

“Is that because you love me?”

“Yes, just because. Love makes the only myness,” said Diamond.

When his father came home to have his dinner, and change Diamond for

Ruby, they saw him look very sad, and he told them he had not had a fare

worth mentioning the whole morning.

“We shall all have to go to the workhouse, wife,” he said.

“It would be better to go to the back of the north wind,” said Diamond,

dreamily, not intending to say it aloud.

“So it would,” answered his father. “But how are we to get there,

Diamond?”

“We must wait till we're taken,” returned Diamond.

Before his father could speak again, a knock came to the door, and in

walked Mr. Raymond with a smile on his face. Joseph got up and received

him respectfully, but not very cordially. Martha set a chair for him,

but he would not sit down.

“You are not very glad to see me,” he said to Joseph. “You don't want to

part with the old horse.”

“Indeed, sir, you are mistaken there. What with anxiety about him, and

bad luck, I've wished I were rid of him a thousand times. It was only to

be for three months, and here it's eight or nine.”

“I'm sorry to hear such a statement,” said Mr. Raymond. “Hasn't he been

of service to you?”

“Not much, not with his lameness”

“Ah!” said Mr. Raymond, hastily–“you've been laming him–have you? That

accounts for it. I see, I see.”

“It wasn't my fault, and he's all right now. I don't know how it

happened, but–”

“He did it on purpose,” said Diamond. “He put his foot on a stone just

to twist his ankle.”

“How do you know that, Diamond?” said his father, turning to him. “I

never said so, for I could not think how it came.”

“I heard it–in the stable,” answered Diamond.

“Let's have a look at him,” said Mr. Raymond.

“If you'll step into the yard,” said Joseph, “I'll bring him out.”

They went, and Joseph, having first taken off his harness, walked Ruby

into the middle of the yard.

“Why,” said Mr. Raymond, “you've not been using him well.”

“I don't know what you mean by that, sir. I didn't expect to hear that

from you. He's sound in wind and limb–as sound as a barrel.”

“And as big, you might add. Why, he's as fat as a pig! You don't call

that good usage!”

Joseph was too angry to make any answer.

“You've not worked him enough, I say. That's not making good use of him.

That's not doing as you'd be done by.”

“I shouldn't be sorry if I was served the same, sir.”

“He's too fat, I say.”

“There was a whole month I couldn't work him at all, and he did nothing

but eat his head off. He's an awful eater. I've taken the best part of

six hours a day out of him since, but I'm always afraid of his coming to

grief again, and so I couldn't make the most even of that. I declare to

you, sir, when he's between the shafts, I sit on the box as miserable as

if I'd stolen him. He looks all the time as if he was a bottling up of

complaints to make of me the minute he set eyes on you again. There!

look at him now, squinting round at me with one eye! I declare to you,

on my word, I haven't laid the whip on him more than three times.”

“I'm glad to hear it. He never did want the whip.”

“I didn't say that, sir. If ever a horse wanted the whip, he do. He's

brought me to beggary almost with his snail's pace. I'm very glad you've

come to rid me of him.”

“I don't know that,” said Mr. Raymond. “Suppose I were to ask you to buy

him of me–cheap.”

“I wouldn't have him in a present, sir. I don't like him. And I wouldn't

drive a horse that I didn't like–no, not for gold. It can't come to

good where there's no love between 'em.”

“Just bring out your own horse, and let me see what sort of a pair

they'd make.”

Joseph laughed rather bitterly as he went to fetch Diamond.

When the two were placed side by side, Mr. Raymond could hardly keep

his countenance, but from a mingling of feelings. Beside the great,

red, round barrel, Ruby, all body and no legs, Diamond looked like a

clothes-horse with a skin thrown over it. There was hardly a spot of

him where you could not descry some sign of a bone underneath. Gaunt and

grim and weary he stood, kissing his master, and heeding no one else.

“You haven't been using him well,” said Mr. Raymond.

“I must say,” returned Joseph, throwing an arm round his horse's neck,

“that the remark had better have been spared, sir. The horse is worth

three of the other now.”

“I don't think so. I think they make a very nice pair. If the one's too

fat, the other's too lean–so that's all right. And if you won't buy my

Ruby, I must buy your Diamond.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Joseph, in a tone implying anything but thanks.

“You don't seem to like the proposal,” said Mr. Raymond.

“I don't,” returned Joseph. “I wouldn't part with my old Diamond for his

skin as full of nuggets as it is of bones.”

“Who said anything about parting with him?”

“You did now, sir.”

“No; I didn't. I only spoke of buying him to make a pair with Ruby. We

could pare Ruby and patch Diamond a bit. And for height, they are as

near a match as I care about. Of course you would be the coachman–if

only you would consent to be reconciled to Ruby.”

Joseph stood bewildered, unable to answer.

“I've bought a small place in Kent,” continued Mr. Raymond, “and I must

have a pair to my carriage, for the roads are hilly thereabouts. I don't

want to make a show with a pair of high-steppers. I think these will

just do. Suppose, for a week or two, you set yourself to take Ruby down

and bring Diamond up. If we could only lay a pipe from Ruby's sides into

Diamond's, it would be the work of a moment. But I fear that wouldn't

answer.”

A strong inclination to laugh intruded upon Joseph's inclination to cry,

and made speech still harder than before.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said at length. “I've been so miserable,

and for so long, that I never thought you was only a chaffing of me

when you said I hadn't used the horses well. I did grumble at you, sir,

many's the time in my trouble; but whenever I said anything, my little

Diamond would look at me with a smile, as much as to say: 'I know him

better than you, father;' and upon my word, I always thought the boy

must be right.”

“Will you sell me old Diamond, then?”

“I will, sir, on one condition–that if ever you want to part with him

or me, you give me the option of buying him. I could not part with him,

sir. As to who calls him his, that's nothing; for, as Diamond says, it's

only loving a thing that can make it yours–and I do love old Diamond,

sir, dearly.”

“Well, there's a cheque for twenty pounds, which I wrote to offer you

for him, in case I should find you had done the handsome thing by Ruby.

Will that be enough?”

“It's too much, sir. His body ain't worth it–shoes and all. It's only

his heart, sir–that's worth millions–but his heart'll be mine all the

same–so it's too much, sir.”

“I don't think so. It won't be, at least, by the time we've got him

fed up again. You take it and welcome. Just go on with your cabbing for

another month, only take it out of Ruby and let Diamond rest; and by

that time I shall be ready for you to go down into the country.”

“Thank you, sir, thank you. Diamond set you down for a friend, sir, the

moment he saw you. I do believe that child of mine knows more than other

people.”

“I think so, too,” said Mr. Raymond as he walked away.

He had meant to test Joseph when he made the bargain about Ruby, but had

no intention of so greatly prolonging the trial. He had been taken ill

in Switzerland, and had been quite unable to return sooner. He went away

now highly gratified at finding that he had stood the test, and was a

true man.

Joseph rushed in to his wife who had been standing at the window

anxiously waiting the result of the long colloquy. When she heard that

the horses were to go together in double harness, she burst forth into

an immoderate fit of laughter. Diamond came up with the baby in his arms

and made big anxious eyes at her, saying–

“What is the matter with you, mother dear? Do cry a little. It will do

you good. When father takes ever so small a drop of spirits, he puts

water to it.”

“You silly darling!” said his mother; “how could I but laugh at the

notion of that great fat Ruby going side by side with our poor old

Diamond?”

“But why not, mother? With a month's oats, and nothing to do, Diamond'll

be nearer Ruby's size than you will father's. I think it's very good for

different sorts to go together. Now Ruby will have a chance of teaching

Diamond better manners.”

“How dare you say such a thing, Diamond?” said his father, angrily.

“To compare the two for manners, there's no comparison possible. Our

Diamond's a gentleman.”

“I don't mean to say he isn't, father; for I daresay some gentlemen

judge their neighbours unjustly. That's all I mean. Diamond shouldn't

have thought such bad things of Ruby. He didn't try to make the best of

him.”

“How do you know that, pray?”

“I heard them talking about it one night.”

“Who?”

“Why Diamond and Ruby. Ruby's an angel.”

Joseph stared and said no more. For all his new gladness, he was very

gloomy as he re-harnessed the angel, for he thought his darling Diamond

was going out of his mind.

He could not help thinking rather differently, however, when he found

the change that had come over Ruby. Considering his fat, he exerted

himself amazingly, and got over the ground with incredible speed. So

willing, even anxious, was he to go now, that Joseph had to hold him

quite tight.

Then as he laughed at his own fancies, a new fear came upon him lest the

horse should break his wind, and Mr. Raymond have good cause to think

he had not been using him well. He might even suppose that he had taken

advantage of his new instructions, to let out upon the horse some of his

pent-up dislike; whereas in truth, it had so utterly vanished that he

felt as if Ruby, too, had been his friend all the time.

CHAPTER XXXIV. IN THE COUNTRY

BEFORE the end of the month, Ruby had got respectably thin, and Diamond

respectably stout. They really began to look fit for double harness.

Joseph and his wife got their affairs in order, and everything ready for

migrating at the shortest notice; and they felt so peaceful and happy

that they judged all the trouble they had gone through well worth

enduring. As for Nanny, she had been so happy ever since she left the

hospital, that she expected nothing better, and saw nothing attractive

in the notion of the country. At the same time, she had not the least

idea of what the word country meant, for she had never seen anything

about her but streets and gas-lamps. Besides, she was more attached to

Jim than to Diamond: Jim was a reasonable being, Diamond in her eyes at

best only an amiable, over-grown baby, whom no amount of expostulation

would ever bring to talk sense, not to say think it. Now that she

could manage the baby as well as he, she judged herself altogether his

superior. Towards his father and mother, she was all they could wish.

Diamond had taken a great deal of pains and trouble to find Jim, and had

at last succeeded through the help of the tall policeman, who was glad

to renew his acquaintance with the strange child. Jim had moved his

quarters, and had not heard of Nanny's illness till some time after she

was taken to the hospital, where he was too shy to go and inquire about

her. But when at length she went to live with Diamond's family, Jim was

willing enough to go and see her. It was after one of his visits, during

which they had been talking of her new prospects, that Nanny expressed

to Diamond her opinion of the country.

“There ain't nothing in it but the sun and moon, Diamond.”

“There's trees and flowers,” said Diamond.

“Well, they ain't no count,” returned Nanny.

“Ain't they? They're so beautiful, they make you happy to look at them.”

“That's because you're such a silly.”

Diamond smiled with a far-away look, as if he were gazing through clouds

of green leaves and the vision contented him. But he was thinking with

himself what more he could do for Nanny; and that same evening he went

to find Mr. Raymond, for he had heard that he had returned to town.

“Ah! how do you do, Diamond?” said Mr. Raymond; “I am glad to see you.”

And he was indeed, for he had grown very fond of him. His opinion of him

was very different from Nanny's.

“What do you want now, my child?” he asked.

“I'm always wanting something, sir,” answered Diamond.

“Well, that's quite right, so long as what you want is right. Everybody

is always wanting something; only we don't mention it in the right place

often enough. What is it now?”

“There's a friend of Nanny's, a lame boy, called Jim.”

“I've heard of him,” said Mr. Raymond. “Well?”

“Nanny doesn't care much about going to the country, sir.”

“Well, what has that to do with Jim?”

“You couldn't find a corner for Jim to work in–could you, sir?”

“I don't know that I couldn't. That is, if you can show good reason for

it.”

“He's a good boy, sir.”

“Well, so much the better for him.”

“I know he can shine boots, sir.”

“So much the better for us.”

“You want your boots shined in the country–don't you, sir?”

“Yes, to be sure.”

“It wouldn't be nice to walk over the flowers with dirty boots–would

it, sir?”

“No, indeed.”

“They wouldn't like it–would they?”

“No, they wouldn't.”

“Then Nanny would be better pleased to go, sir.”

“If the flowers didn't like dirty boots to walk over them, Nanny

wouldn't mind going to the country? Is that it? I don't quite see it.”

“No, sir; I didn't mean that. I meant, if you would take Jim with you to

clean your boots, and do odd jobs, you know, sir, then Nanny would like

it better. She's so fond of Jim!”

“Now you come to the point, Diamond. I see what you mean, exactly. I

will turn it over in my mind. Could you bring Jim to see me?”

“I'll try, sir. But they don't mind me much. They think I'm silly,”

 added Diamond, with one of his sweetest smiles.

What Mr. Raymond thought, I dare hardly attempt to put down here. But

one part of it was, that the highest wisdom must ever appear folly to

those who do not possess it.

“I think he would come though–after dark, you know,” Diamond continued.

“He does well at shining boots. People's kind to lame boys, you know,

sir. But after dark, there ain't so much doing.”

Diamond succeeded in bringing Jim to Mr. Raymond, and the consequence

was that he resolved to give the boy a chance. He provided new clothes

for both him and Nanny; and upon a certain day, Joseph took his wife and

three children, and Nanny and Jim, by train to a certain station in the

county of Kent, where they found a cart waiting to carry them and their

luggage to The Mound, which was the name of Mr. Raymond's new residence.

I will not describe the varied feelings of the party as they went, or

when they arrived. All I will say is, that Diamond, who is my only care,

was full of quiet delight–a gladness too deep to talk about.

Joseph returned to town the same night, and the next morning drove Ruby

and Diamond down, with the carriage behind them, and Mr. Raymond and a

lady in the carriage. For Mr. Raymond was an old bachelor no longer: he

was bringing his wife with him to live at The Mound. The moment Nanny

saw her, she recognised her as the lady who had lent her the ruby-ring.

That ring had been given her by Mr. Raymond.

The weather was very hot, and the woods very shadowy. There were not a

great many wild flowers, for it was getting well towards autumn, and the

most of the wild flowers rise early to be before the leaves, because

if they did not, they would never get a glimpse of the sun for them. So

they have their fun over, and are ready to go to bed again by the time

the trees are dressed. But there was plenty of the loveliest grass and

daisies about the house, and Diamond's chief pleasure seemed to be to

lie amongst them, and breathe the pure air. But all the time, he was

dreaming of the country at the back of the north wind, and trying to

recall the songs the river used to sing. For this was more like being at

the back of the north wind than anything he had known since he left it.

Sometimes he would have his little brother, sometimes his little sister,

and sometimes both of them in the grass with him, and then he felt just

like a cat with her first kittens, he said, only he couldn't purr–all

he could do was to sing.

These were very different times from those when he used to drive the

cab, but you must not suppose that Diamond was idle. He did not do so

much for his mother now, because Nanny occupied his former place; but

he helped his father still, both in the stable and the harness-room, and

generally went with him on the box that he might learn to drive a pair,

and be ready to open the carriage-door. Mr. Raymond advised his father

to give him plenty of liberty.

“A boy like that,” he said, “ought not to be pushed.”

Joseph assented heartily, smiling to himself at the idea of pushing

Diamond. After doing everything that fell to his share, the boy had a

wealth of time at his disposal. And a happy, sometimes a merry time it

was. Only for two months or so, he neither saw nor heard anything of

North Wind.