Daphne du Maurier: Hungry Hill

The old man spat on the ground in contempt.

"My sons have never worked for a master," he said, "and never shall do while I live. Doesn't all the land here belong to them by rights, yes, and the copper too, and couldn't we take it all, if we had the mind?"

"My dear Donovan," said Brodrick impatiently, "you live in the past of two hundred years ago, and talk like an imbecile. If you want the copper why don't you form a company, and engage the labour, and erect the machinery?"

"You know well enough I am a poor man, Mr.

Brodrick; and whose fault is it but that of your grandfather?"

"I'm afraid I have no time to discuss those ancient quarrels, Donovan, which are better forgotten. Good evening to you." And John Brodrick gave a sign to the post-boy to drive on, leaving the old man leaning upon his stick, staring at them, the smile gone from his face.

John Brodrick looked out over the view below them, as the chaise topped the hill. Yonder, across the bay, lay the little harbour of Doonhaven, with Doon Island at the entrance to the bay, and beyond Doonhaven, at the head of the farther creek, stood his own grey castle of Clonmere, like a sentinel guarding the waters.

The chaise rattled down the hill into the town, and past the harbour, scattering the cattle and the geese in the market-place, nearly running over a dog which came barking at the wheels, and avoiding by a miracle a small, barefooted boy who was chasing a hen into a cottage, and so past the Post Office, and Murphy's shop, and up out of the village beyond the few cottages on the hill at Oakmount, to his own gate-house and the park. The gates were open, at which he frowned, for it was by such carelessness that his cattle had strayed last time to the moors, and were caught and kept by one of Morty Donovan's men, and branded with Morty Donovan's mark into the bargain, to add to the usual unpleasantness between the families, and he resolved to speak firmly to the widow Creevy at the gate-house on the first occasion, and to remind her that her position was one of trust, and if she neglected it he had other tenants who might fill it to greater advantage.

Across the park they went and through the second gate, past the belt of trees that his grandfather had planted, past the rhododendron bushes that had been the pride of poor Sarah and were now watched so tenderly by her daughters, and down on to the smooth gravel ride beside the creek and the sunk garden, through the archway of stone, and so back to where the sweep on the ride ended before the grey walls of Clonmere Castle.

The Brodricks dined at five, and by the time John Brodrick had washed and changed his travelling clothes, dinner was upon the table, with his family assembled round it, ready to welcome him after his week's absence in Slane and Mundy. His wife Sarah had died some years previously, and his eldest daughter Barbara now filled her mother's place at the end of the table. She came forward to kiss him, her example followed by her two sisters, Eliza and Jane. Henry, John Brodrick's eldest son, had already welcomed his father on his arrival, and now stood by the sideboard sharpening the carving-knife in preparation for his father's attack upon the roast pig. Thomas, the serving-man, stood in attendance by his side. Before carving, John Brodrick said grace, and this formality disposed of, he proceeded to slice the meat on to the plates handed him by Thomas.

"Is it true, father," asked Barbara, "that there has been some horrible plot to assassinate the Cabinet Minister during his tour of the country?"

"I fear it is only too certain that there was some such plot," answered her father, "but luckily it was discovered in time, and no harm done. The whole affair must have been inspired by some of the dregs of the people, and whoever was responsible will be brought to justice. There was talk of little else in Slane, needless to say. It will have some effect at the elections."

"And is Mr. Hare to stand for the County again?" asked Henry.

"I understand so. Which reminds me, Henry, there is something you can do on the occasion. You can tell all my freeholders to hold themselves ready to vote as I wish them, and if any should absent themselves on the day without valid excuse of ill-health, he will find himself without a roof over his head."

"I can vouch for one or two," laughed Henry, "who will find themselves stricken with fever when the time comes, and the priest by the bedside."

"The Reverend Father will keep himself scarce, and out of trouble, if he has any sense," said John Brodrick, and he took his place at the head of the table.

The empty chair by his side caused him to frown.

"John is late again," he said. "Did he not know I was returning?"

"I believe he went across to the island," said Barbara swiftly. "He wanted to arrange a day's shooting with one of the officers in the garrison.

Perhaps he has had some difficulty in bringing the boat back."

"I will not stand unpunctuality from anyone, and certainly not from a nineteen-year-old boy," said her father. "Clonmere is not Andriff Castle, and I have not the careless go-as-you-please temperament of Simon Flower.

You can all of you remember that. Kindly teach your brother better manners, Henry. I thought civility the least you would learn at Eton and Oxford."

"I'm sorry, sir," said Henry, exchanging a glance with his sister.

"John has never had any idea of time," complained Brodrick's second daughter Eliza, who thought, by seeming to side with her father, to find some favour. "He was still fast asleep at breakfast this morning — Thomas had to call him twice."

The unfortunate John, entering at this moment, found all eyes upon him in sympathy, excluding Eliza's and his father's, and, hastily making his excuses and flushing scarlet as he did so, he took his seat at the table and added to the misery by spilling the gravy on the cloth.

"Curious," observed his father drily, "how a prolonged stay in this country makes a boor of a fellow, so that he dribbles his very food. Your friends at Brasenose College would hardly recognise you. However, let us talk of other things. Thomas, you may leave us. Master Henry and Master John will wait upon the ladies. No, the fact of the matter is," he said deliberately, looking round at his children, when the servant had left the room, "I have something to tell you all, concerning the future."

He laid his knife and fork upon his plate, smiling at Henry as though in confirmation of some previous conversation, while the rest of his family waited for him to continue.

It was a proud moment for John Brodrick. For months now, ever since the possibility of extracting the copper from Hungry Hill had become a certainty in his mind, he had thought and dreamt of little else. He had set himself the task of breaking down the apathy and mistrust of his neighbouring landlord with determination, for he knew that his capital alone would not cover the initial expenses. Besides which, the actual site of the mine was not entirely his possession. Part of the lands of Hungry Hill belonged to the Duncroom estate of Robert Lumley, and without his consent to form the company the mine could not be started. And at last old Robert Lumley had signed the agreement, and the work could begin. It was not, John Brodrick told himself, as he gazed proudly upon his young family, that he wanted a fortune for himself or for them. The money would come, he knew that, he took it for granted. Henry would live in comfort at Clonmere after him, and Henry's children. He would buy more land, plant more trees, build another wing on to the castle, and buy land the other side of the water too, should he have the mind.

No, it was the principle of the thing with which he had most concern. There was wealth in this country of his, ready for the taking, and only the laziness of his fellow-countrymen prevented them from enjoying it.