Chapter V: Revenge

Now opportunity thrust another into the affairs of Jacob Bullstone--one who never occupied a moment of his own thoughts, but who, none the less, was deeply concerned with him.

Unknown and unguessed by his brother, or his aunt, Samuel Winter's weak brain was suffering a stormy assault and gradually reaching a very dangerous decision on the subject of his brother's wrongs. Affairs that leapt instantly to the zenith in a normal intellect, mounted by slow degrees for him; thus his purpose only matured long after the summits of emotion in other men and women were passed. He had taken the matter of Adam's affront very much to heart, and while scarcely able to appreciate the details or understand their significance, none the less grasped that the master of Red House had done Adam an injury beyond any atonement. He had listened to his aunt's furious comments on the disaster and shared her indignation; he had perceived that, while unspeakable evil resulted from Bullstone's errors, the criminal went unrestrained and apparently unpunished. This he resented. Samuel's theory of justice embraced active retaliation for wrong done, and he held it a grievance that Jacob should be none the worse after his offences. He found the matter fasten on his waking thoughts; and he harboured dreams of a great revenge that should be worthy of the occasion. While the rest of the world had cooled its anger; while even a shadow of regret for both sufferers appeared here and there, doubtfully uttered by a seeing woman or sentimental man, Samuel reached gradually to the climax of his private hate. Bullstone must be struck hard, and from this conviction, all unknown and unguessed, Sammy's faulty wits led him to a still more tremendous conclusion. Long brooding, and a gathering weight of indignation at the injustice of Jacob's escape, decided the crazy creature to destroy him and rid the world of an evil thing. He would kill the enemy as he killed vermin. Thus a grave, physical peril now hung over Bullstone, and there was none to warn him, since Samuel took care that not a whisper of his project should be heard. He had the wit to guess that his brother might condemn it; but believed notwithstanding that, after the event, Adam must be the first to praise.

At this stage in his remorseless progress, chance lent itself to Samuel's purpose and he accepted an opportunity. For once the muddy currents of his intelligence flowed swiftly and he struck, after a fashion more worthy of a knave than a fool.

Jacob Bullstone, exploring every channel and considering each human figure that might be regarded as a link between himself and his wife, had thought of late upon her brother. He had observed that Jeremy now avoided him and, until the present, had not thought to challenge the younger man, or thrust any needless difficulty upon his life; but there came a sudden conviction that through his brother-in-law a possible approach to Margery might be obtained. He yearned to put circumstances before her and had endeavoured to do so by letter; but the letters were returned by the hand of Auna, and when the girl once more visited her mother with messages, she was told very plainly that she must obey former commands and not mention her father again. Failure to keep this order would mean denial of her mother to her.

Bullstone, considering ways and means, desired to furnish Margery with money, and his lawyer assured him that there existed no objection to so doing. He was impoverished himself and knew well enough that his wife would take nothing from him, yet the thought persisted, among other thoughts, and he strove to create from it, if possible, some sort of tie between himself and his partner. He told himself that if once the slenderest thread of communication might be established and recognised, upon that he would build and build, until something vital were accomplished.

Therefore he turned to Jeremy. He did not go to the green-grocer's, but waited a chance meeting, and when that fell out, in a manner very convenient to the purpose, he stopped the other and, to Jeremy's discomfort, insisted on having speech with him. Huxam had been to see some apples with a view to purchasing them on the trees, and he was returning from an orchard in the valley above Brent, when he met Jacob face to face, in a lane, and found it impossible to avoid him. He was hastening past, with his face turned to the ground, when his brother-in-law blocked the way.

"Well met," he said. "I've been wanting half a dozen words with you, Jeremy. I won't keep you. I'll walk along with you."

"Mr. Bullstone," answered the other, "I'd rather you didn't. It's all over between your family and mine, and I earnestly beg you'll not speak to me."

"I must. You must endure it. I suppose you're a just man. I'm not going to say anything on my own account--only on your sister's. She has rights and I have obligations. These must be recognised; but your parents come between me and my duty in that matter and won't listen to me, or my lawyer, though he's tried to make them. They oppose a blank wall to me out of ignorance. Some might say out of malice; but I say out of ignorance."

"What d'you want to rip things up for? It isn't dignified of you to stop me; you ought to know better."

"Dignity don't come into it. Just listen. I've been a good friend to you anyway. You're not going to deny that. Then treat me as an unfortunate man who comes to you quite reasonably and properly, things being as they are. There's much that must be said, and propositions must be heard, and it may be in your power to help Margery to see another opinion than her mother's--not my opinion, but the law's opinion. You understand money and you know what a husband owes his wife, whether he's wronged her or not. I admit everything; I acknowledge everything and none can make me out worse than I am; but I'm human. I want to do what's right, and no Christian ought to deny me the power to do what's right. Everything I've got is my wife's if she will take it. She's living on her father and mother now. They won't even suffer her to have her clothes."

"It's no business of mine," said Jeremy. "All the same, I see what you mean. If I get a chance, I'll speak to her. I'm cruel sorry about all this. It's become a matter of religion in my mother's mind, or else things might be possible I dare say."

"No religion denies a man the right to do his duty, whatever he's been."

"I'll mention it and see how she looks at it. Not that you can expect any of us to trouble about you, or your duty either. No member of my family ever stood between a man and his duty, all the same. My parents may not have looked at it in that light. Money's money every time. If I don't know that, who should?"

"It is her money and her children's after her."

The other considered.

"Strictly between ourselves," he said, "I may tell you I don't see quite eye to eye with my mother in this affair. Men take a larger view than women and, of course, there's two sides to every question. My parents are getting on and, in the course of nature--well, as far as Margery's concerned she's provided for; but I am not. You've got to be worldly-wise with a wife and family and--in a word, nothing is yet settled about me and Jane. My mother's been far too upset by these disasters to think about us. But the time has come when we've got to be thought about. Yes, I'll talk to Margery. She may not look at it exactly like mother. Jane says that Margery doesn't. I don't know. I seldom see her. And--well, they talk of going into their villa residence at the end of the year; and nothing settled about the business. To forgive is human after all. There's somebody coming. You'd better turn here, afore they see who it is. I'll keep it in mind. I'll get speech with her next time she comes to see us, and try to find if she feels anything in particular."

"On the general question--not only money--the general question of a possible reconciliation. Thank you gratefully."

Jeremy quickened his pace, and Jacob stopped and turned back. He guessed that the other had become thus amenable through some private inspiration bearing on his own welfare; but the motive mattered not. He had said great things--words beyond measure heartening to Jacob. For, if Margery did not echo her mother; if Jane had actually recorded that important fact, then hope surely existed. That being so, let him but break down one of the barriers, and the rest might presently fall. He believed that much might come of this meeting, if Jeremy kept his promise, and for a time the thought exalted him.

In this mood he passed Samuel Winter returning home with 'Turk.' Before them opened a field over which ran a footpath--a short cut to Shipley Bridge--and Jacob, though Samuel never now acknowledged him save with a snort and a scowl, held open the gate for the bull and wished the man good evening.

He received no response, however, beyond an unfriendly gleam from Sammy's heavy eyes; then he pushed on to cross the meadow, and quickly forgot Adam's brother under the weight of his own thoughts. He was, however, speedily reminded. The meadow extended for two hundred yards, with the river, under a steep bank, on the west of it, and a stone wall, where ran the road, to the east. Road and river met at Shipley Bridge and here the field narrowed to a point, where stood another gate for cattle and carts, and a stile for foot passengers.

Then it was that Sammy walking thirty yards behind Jacob won his inspiration and acted upon it, with lightning rapidity. The supreme enemy stood at his mercy for one minute, and between them stalked a formidable engine of destruction. Samuel well knew what to do, for he remembered once how a man, flinging away a lucifer match at a show, had dropped it on 'Turk's' neck, and how the bull had behaved on that occasion. He was firmly tethered at the time, otherwise some lives had paid forfeit. Now Samuel shook out his pipe upon the monster's back and loosed the rope from the ring in his nose. The fire stung and 'Turk' responded. His head went up. He was conscious of assault and, at the same time, perceived a man thirty yards ahead of him. He protested audibly, to Samuel's regret, then put down his head and in a royal rage charged the unconscious Jacob, where he walked deep in thought. But for the shrill, warning bellow of the beast, he had been doomed and must have been struck almost at the moment he became conscious of the peril; but he heard, looked round, saw the angry bull and its keeper, and, with a start of thirty yards, began to run. His legs, however, could not save him and he hesitated, while he ran, as to whether the wall or the river promised the better chance. He stood midway between them and decided for the stream, since once over the bank he would be safe, while at the wall he must needs lose vital moments before he could climb it. The bull was very near--nearer than he knew--and Jacob unconsciously saved himself by a sudden swerve to the left, for as he twisted, his enemy went past so close that its left, lowered horn tore his breeches. He still had near thirty yards to go and the bull pulled up and doubled almost as fast as the man; but now, alive to his danger, Jacob ran amazingly fast for one of his age and size. He took a straight line to the river and just reached the bank two yards before his pursuer. He plunged straight on, ignorant of what might be beneath and 'Turk' stopped with his fore feet on the brink. There he trampled and screamed, but was unsighted and did not mark the enemy, who had fallen through a thicket of alder overhanging the river a dozen feet below.

Bullstone might have escaped with nothing but a wetting and bad shaking, but for the unfortunate accident of a dead tree stump. This heavy snag extended over a pool and he fell across it and turned a somersault into six feet of water. He had, however, struck the tree trunk with his right leg and broken his thigh. He heard the snap and knew that a bone was gone; but he kept his nerve and, guessing that the bull had been set upon him, could not tell whether Samuel Winter might not descend and finish the murder he had planned. He stopped in the water therefore and floating down with the stream, holding himself up by the bank, reached the cover of an overhanging ledge and remained beneath it motionless.

Samuel, however, was content with his achievement. He looked over, saw no sign of the enemy, doubted not that he was drowned and roared with laughter. Then he turned to the heaving bull, slapped its neck, kissed its nose, and heaped affectionate curses upon it. Presently, thrusting his rope through the monster's ring, he led it away.

Jacob heard him go, but found that without the water to support him he could not stand. His leg was powerless and he felt the broken bone probing the flesh. He crawled out on the farther bank of the river and lay flat. He felt faint at the unfamiliar exertion and suffered pain also; but he waited for some time, not daring to lift his voice until Samuel might be out of hearing. The terrible incident seemed not particularly dreadful to him. Sudden death offered no terrors; yet he was thankful to live, for he desired much to happen before he died. Death, indeed, might be already upon him, for he felt very ill; but his mind remained clear. He could find it in him to sorrow for Adam Winter before this disaster. This would bring more suffering upon him, for the madman might have to be shut up.

It was thanks to Samuel himself that the broken man endured but a short suspense. Jacob had determined to raise no alarm until good space of time had passed; and before he lifted his voice assistance came, for Samuel, returning home in great glee, put up the bull, then told his aunt of the adventure.

"I've done for the beastly man," he said. "Bully went for him and horched his thigh and just missed him by a hair, then he ran for the river and Turk after him like a long-dog,[1] and in went Bullstone, tail over head, and was drowned, thank the watching Lord! A good day's work and may I never do a worse."

[1] _Long-dog_--Greyhound.

Amelia listened and took good care not to condemn Samuel, for censure was gall to him. She left him at his tea a moment later and ran for Adam, who was milking. Thus it happened that within half an hour of his downfall, Jacob saw Winter running over the field, heard his shout and answered him.

In less than another half hour Adam had brought round a flat-bottomed pig-cart with blankets and pillows. Two men assisted him and Bullstone was lifted as gently as might be. Then Winter himself drove the injured man to Brent cottage hospital, while a labourer proceeded to Red House with the news.