Mark Dunn - Under the Harrow

Unfortunately, Muntle came too early to allow time for me to see Hannah prior to his arrival, so there was not much more that I could convey to my friend on Hannah’s side, given my reluctance, without detailed corroboration from the young woman, to mention the parental scheme to drive their daughter insane — or, rather, to create the appearance of lunacy within her — nor did I feel that I should mention that there was a place visited by Hannah that had set her father upon this present course, not knowing what that place was nor how important a role its disclosure would play to her cause.

So I made her case as her advocate based upon the singular fact that Hannah was a grown woman, and as such had the right to withdraw from her family for whatever reason should be her choosing, which did not in consequence put her into the women’s ward of one of the Milltown workhouses, nor into a dirty gutter in a state of impoverished self-negation, as would sometimes come to a woman in Dingley Dell without family, fortune or position.

“Consider her to be, at least for the nonce, the ward of my landlady,” I said to Muntle as I poured from the pot of tea that Mrs. Lumbey had thoughtfully sent up for our refreshment.

“Though she is beyond the age of compulsory guardianship?”

“Then consider her independent.”

“I must see what the law says.”

“I know what the law says, Muntle. It says that Hannah Pupker has every right, should it be her desire, to stop with Mrs. Lumbey. You’re only here, I warrant, because that repugnant blackguard has put screws to you to haul her home, with or without legal justification.”

“Trimmers, your accusation that the man has overriding influence over me is odiously unfounded. I answer only to the law.”

“I’m not assailing your reputation as sheriff, Muntle. I’m only saying—”

The sheriff raised his hand to put an end to this train.“Here is the truth of the matter, Trimmers, and I draw you generously into my confidence as friend to tell you the following by way of background: the Petit-Parliament has just this forenoon passed legislation which authorises the removal of all of the residents of the vagrant Scadger camp so that their mean shelters can be razed and more apricot trees planted in their place.”

“And where are all the displaced Scadgers to go?”

“Housing has been secured for them in Milltown. The Petit-Parliament maintains that this barefoot, dishevelled clan has remained dissociated from the rest of the valley population for far too long, and though they live at the farthest most eastern reach of our Dell, it is time to bring their gipsy-like subsistence beneath the apricot trees to an end.”

“Because they are polluting the fruit.”

Muntle shook his head. “Their children are badly fed and poorly drest, Trimmers. Adult or child, it makes no difference — one’s full dietary requirements cannot be met by apricots and ground nuts alone, nor do apricots and ground nuts provide the necessary materials for the making of shoes or any of the other indispensables of daily life.”

“You sound as if you’re in agreement with the Petit-Parliament.”

“On this issue, I am quite in agreement. It is far better in my opinion for the Scadgers to live close-at-hand and be educated and uplifted than to have my deputies and me galloping far and wide to put scattered clamps upon their scuttling, mischief-making indigence.”

“You raised this topic to tell me something about Pupker, but I cannot, as yet, make the connexion, Muntle.”

“The connexion, Trimmers, is this: Pupker owns several buildings in the East End Mews that he is willing to let to the Scadgers at a quite reasonable rate. This is a very good thing, since the cost will naturally have to be paid out of community coffers, the whole lot of those impoverished gipsy-like knife-sharpeners and basket-weavers having not two florins to rub together.”

I shook my head and well nigh snorted. “Yet I’ve never known Pupker to be philanthropic without deriving some concurrent benefit. What’s the catch?”

The sheriff sighed. “That the Petit-Parliament and, more specifically, its cabinet ministers, give more faith and credit to this particular act of public largesse on the part of Pupker than to any of his former deeds of civic benevolence.”

I laughed. “To my knowledge there have been no former deeds of civic benevolence from that execrable purveyor! And I take issue with your present characterisation of ‘largesse’ at all events.”

“Howbeit, Pupker will heretofore have a greater voice amongst those who claim the attention of the M.P.P.’s. It is the way of things, Trimmers. One hand greases the other, and whilst a few benefit in surplus, others such as the soon-to-be-homeless Scadger clan may profit along the narrower margins. It is the reason, if I may be honest, for the Minister of Trade having raised objections to your climbing to the Summit of Exchange to discuss the whereabouts of your nephew with the Outlander-tradesmen.”

“Because Pupker first objected?”

Muntle nodded without lifting his head. It was an admission that he would have preferred not to make.

“Pupker hasn’t anything better to do with his time than to devise ways to check and obstruct me ? Has thwarting the intentions of Frederick Trimmers become, as of late, the man’s favourite avocation?”

“I don’t know, nor do I have the time to puzzle it out. I will only say that Montague Pupker has never been one of your great admirers — let us both stipulate to it — nor will your advocacy of his refractory daughter do anything but add more fuel to the fire of his dislike for you, especially should you choose to pursue this matter with the girl beyond this day. Perhaps I will hazard a guess here: it is your feelings for Hannah that abrade him.”

“But I have no feelings for Hannah Pupker beyond simple friendship,” I protested.

“He doesn’t see it that way.”

“I cannot account for his misinterpretation of my friendship with his daughter, nor do I wish to waste time anatomising it.”

“Well, I shan’t be the one to tell him he is wrong on this account, Trimmers. Perhaps in your heart of hearts you do feel something beyond a platonic attachment for the young woman. I have myself in recent days wrestled with similar feelings that will not make themselves so clear.”

“What do you mean, Muntle?”

Muntle coloured.

“Out with it, man.”

With bashful reluctance: “The Chowser cook — you recall my telling you of the afternoon that she and I spent in the cemetery last year?”

“Discussing cheese.”

“Amongst other things, turd. I chanced upon her again just yesterday. We spent another delightful afternoon together. I am inclined to visit the school soon on official business.”

I interposed with a laugh, “Such business as yet to be concocted.”

Muntle nodded animatedly. “I must find out if this small stirring within me for this dear woman may lead to something far more serious. Now, my dear Trimmers, who is to say whether or no your heart carries you along the same path with Miss Pupker.”

How ludicrous that Muntle should presume my thoughts to stray to Hannah Pupker, when ever since last night I could not stop myself from thinking ever and anon about the Bedlam nurse Ruth Wolf, and how appealing her features had appeared to me in the softly diffused candlelight of my brother and sister-in-law’s drawing room, and how we had been most intimate, and how close we had come to melding ourselves in that most intimate mode of coupling that God and human evolution have devised!

“At all events, Trimmers, whether there is truth or no to what some have always said about you and Hannah Pupker, nothing can be allowed to muddy the proceedings, especially with regard to the Scadger matter, nor will I simply stand by and watch you ruffle the feathers of the Petit-Parliament’s strongest ally and, at present, its greatest benefactor through your affinity — however it should be defined — for Montague Pupker’s daughter, nor for reason of your overwhelming distaste for Montague Pupker himself. Moreover, Pupker will not believe that, given his felicitous standing with Parliament — he being a virtual member of that body himself — there should be nothing that I can do as sheriff of Dingley Dell and servant to that august assembly to restore Hannah to her family. Pray suffer me, therefore, Trimmers, to fulfill my obligations and return her to her parents and let us all put an end to this whole prickly affair.”