George Fenn - The Star-Gazers

Judith uttered a cry of horror, but there was no occasion for her dread, for, quick in his action as the young poacher, Rolph struck up the attacking arm, and the next moment Caleb Kent was outside, with his opponent following him watchfully.

“Keep of!” snarled Caleb, “or I’ll have your blood. All right: I see; but never mind, my turn will come yet. If I wait for years, I’ll make this straight.”

And then as Rolph made a rush at him, he dodged aside and darted into the fir wood, running so swiftly that his adversary felt it would be useless to pursue.

Neither did he wish to, for Judith was standing there by the porch, looking wild-eyed and ghastly.

“You – you are hurt,” she faltered.

“Hurt!” he cried, as he clasped her once more in his arms. “No, no, tell me about yourself. Curse him! what did he say?”

“I was alone here and busy when he came. He has followed me about from a child and frightened me. To-day he walked straight in and roughly told me that he loved me, and that I must be his wife.”

She shuddered.

“The insolent gaol-bird!”

“He frightened me, though I tried very hard to be firm, and ordered him to leave the place; but he only laughed at me, and caught me in his arms, and tried to kiss me. I was struggling with him for a long time, and no help seemed to be coming. I screamed out, and that frightened him, and he left me; but, before I could fasten the door, he came back and spoke gently to me, but when I would not listen to him, he tried to seize me again, and I cried for help, and you – ”

She did not shrink this time, as, throbbing with passion, and uttering threats against the scoundrel, Rolph once more folded her in his arms.

Again she struggled from him, trembling.

“I am not doing right,” she said firmly. “If you love me, Rob – ”

“If I love you!” he said reproachfully.

“I am sure you have pity for me,” she said, taking his hand and raising it to her lips, to utter a cry of horror, for the hand was bleeding freely, and the ruddy current dyed her lips.

“Hurt in my defence,” she said with a pained smile, as she bound her own handkerchief about the bleeding knuckles.

“I’d die in your defence,” he whispered passionately; “your protector always, dearest.”

“Then protect me now,” she said, “that I am weak, and let me trust in you. You wish me to be your wife, Robert?”

“Eh? Yes, of course, of course,” he said hurriedly.

“And you won’t let your mother sending me away make any difference?”

“How could it, little stupid! I’m not a boy,” he said, banteringly. “But I must go now, and, as for Master Caleb Kent, I’ll just set the policeman on his track.”

“But that will mean his being taken before the magistrates, Rob.”

“Yes, and a long spell for him this time, or I’ll know the reason why.”

“No, no,” cried the girl, hurriedly. “You mustn’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because he hates you enough as it is. He said he’d kill you.”

“Will he?” muttered Rolph, between his teeth.

“And I should have to go before the magistrates as a witness; and there’s no knowing what Caleb might say.”

Rolph looked at her searchingly, while she clung to him till he promised to let the matter rest.

“But suppose he comes again?”

“Father will take care of that,” she said confidently. “But do mind yourself as you go. Caleb may be hiding, and waiting for you.”

“To come back here,” he said sharply.

“If he does, he’ll find the door locked,” said Judith quietly. “Must you go now?”

“Yes: your father may come back.”

“But that doesn’t matter now, Rob, does it? Why not tell him we’re engaged?”

“No, no: not yet. Leave that to me. Good-bye, now.”

He drew the clinging arms from about his neck rather roughly, gave the girl’s lips a hasty kiss, and hurried out and across the clearing, turning back twice as he went to see Judith looking after him, with her face shadowed by tears, and then, as their eyes encountered, beaming with sunshine. And again, after he had passed out of sight, he stole back through the trees to find that she was still wistfully gazing at the spot where she saw him last.

And, as unseen he watched her, his thoughts were many upon her unprotected state, and as to whether he ought not to stay until her father’s return.

“No,” he said, “the beggar will not dare to come back!” and, after making a circuit of the place, and searching in all directions, he walked thoughtfully away, thinking of what must be done with regard to Caleb Kent, and then about his cousin, against whom his indignation grew hotter the more he thought of what he had seen.

“She must have known that Caleb was in the cottage insulting Judith, and she was glorying in it and would not stir a step to save her, when her presence would have been enough to drive the beggar away. Oh, it seems impossible that a woman could be so spiteful. Hang it! Madge has got hold of that now. It’s like being at her mercy. Phew! I’m getting myself in a devil of a mess. I meant to fight shy of her now altogether, but of course no fellow could help running to save a woman in distress.”

He stopped short, for a sudden thought struck him.

“Then Judy hasn’t heard about Glynne yet. Confound it all! what a tangle I’m getting in.”

He took out and lit a cigar. Then smoking rapidly, he felt better.

“All right,” he muttered; “the old woman sets that square, and the sooner they’re off the estate the better for everybody. But there’s no mistake about it, Judy is deuced nice after all.”

“Day, sir,” said a sharp voice, and Rolph started round to find himself face to face with Hayle.

“Ah, Ben! – you!”

“Yes, sir, me it is,” said the keeper, sternly. “Down, dogs!”

This to the animals which began to play about the captain.

“Oh, let ’em be,” said Rolph, patting one of the setters on the head.

“Never mind the dogs, sir. I’ve got something more serious to think about. I suppose you know as the missus has sacked me, and we’re off?”

“Yes, Ben, I know; but it was no doing of mine.”

“I never thought it was, sir; but me and Judy’s to go at once – anywhere, for aught she cares. She’d like me to emigrate, I think.”

“No, don’t do that, Ben. England’s big enough.”

“For some people, sir. I don’t know as it is for me. Well, sir, I’m sacked, and I dare say it will be a long time before anyone will take me on. My character usen’t to be of the best, and the reasons for going ’ll be again me. Of course you know why it is.”

“Well – er – I suppose – ”

“That’ll do, sir. You know well enough, it’s about you and my Judy.”

The captain laughed.

“There, sir, you needn’t shuffle with me. I’m my gal’s father, and we may as well understand one another.”

“My good fellow, recollect whom you are talking to,” said the captain, haughtily.

“I do, sir. My late missus’s son; and I recollect that I’m nobody’s servant now, only an Englishman as can speak out free like. So I say this out plain. Of course, after what’s been going on, you mean to marry my Judith?”

“Marry her? Well – er – Ben – ”

“No, you don’t,” said the keeper fiercely, “so don’t tell me no lies, because I know you’ve been and got yourself engaged to young Miss Glynne over at Brackley.”

“Well, sir, and if I have, what then?” said Rolph haughtily.

“This, sir,” cried the keeper, with his eyes flashing, “that you’ve been playing a damned cowardly mean part to Miss Glynne and to my Judith. You’ve led my gal on to believe that you meant to marry her, and then you’ve thrown her over and took up with Sir John Day’s gal. And I tell you this; if my Judith hadn’t been what she is, and any harm had come of it, you might have said your prayers, for as sure as there’s two charges o’ shot in this here gun, I’d put one through you.”