Cradock Nowell: A Tale of the New Forest. Volume 3 of 3. Blackmore Richard Doddridge

Loo, child, run for dadʼs bacco–box, as were left to Mother Richardsonʼs, and if it ainʼt there, try at Blinkin’ Davyʼs, and if he ainʼt got it, try Mother Hamp.”

      The child, sadly disappointed, for her eyes were large with hopes of a secret about her “dear gentleman,” as she called Cradock, departed upon her long errand. Then Amy told, as briefly as possible, all she knew of the great mishap, and the misery which followed it. From time to time her soft voice shook, and her tears would not be disciplined; while Rachel Juppʼs strayed anyhow. But Issachar listened dryly and sternly, with one great brown hand on his forehead. Not once did he interrupt the young lady, by gesture, look, or question. But when she had finished, he said very quietly,

      “One name, miss, as have summat to do with it, Iʼve not ‘earʼd you sinnify; and it were the sound o’ that very name as fust raised my coorosity. ‘Scuse me, miss, but I wouldnʼt ax, only for good raison.”

      “I hardly know what right I have to mention any other names,” replied Amy, blushing and hesitating, for she did not wish to speak of Pearl Garnet; “there is only one other name connected at all with the matter, and that one of no importance.”

      “Ah,” returned Jupp, with a glance as intense as a catʼs through a dairy keyhole, “maybe the tow–rope ainʼt nothin’ to do with the goin’ of the barge, miss. That name didnʼt happen permiskious now to be the name of Garnet, maʼam?”

      “Yes, indeed it did. But how could you know that, Mr. Jupp?”

      “Pearl Garnet were the name I ‘earʼd on, and that ainʼt a very common name, leastways to my experience. Now, could it ‘ave ‘appened by a haxident that her good fatherʼs name were Bull Garnet?”

      Amy drew back, for Mr. Jupp, in his triumph and excitement, had laid down his pipe, and was stretching out his unpeeled crate of a hand, as if to take her by the shoulder, and shake the whole truth out of her. It was his fashion with Rachel, and he quite forgot the difference. Mrs. Jupp cried, “Zakey, Zakey!” in a tone of strong remonstrance. But he was not abashed very seriously.

      “It couldnʼt be now, could it, miss; it wornʼt in any way possible that Pearl Garnetʼs father was ever known by the name of Bull Garnet?”

      “But indeed that is his name, Mr. Jupp. Why should you be so incredulous?”

      “Oncredulous it be, miss; oncredulous, as I be a sinner. Rachey, whoʼd ha’ thought it? How things does come about, to be sure! Now please to tell me, miss – very careful, and not passinʼ lightly of anything; never you mind how small it seem – every word you knows about Pearl Garnet and that there – job there; and all you knows on her father too.”

      “You must prove to me first, Mr. Jupp, that I have any right to do so.”

      Issachar now was strongly excited, a condition most unusual with him, except when his wife rebelled, and that she had, years ago, ceased to do. He put his long black face, which was working so that the high cheek–bones almost shut the little eyes, quite close to Amyʼs little white ear, and whispered,

      “If ye dunna tell me, yeʼll cry for it arl the life long, yeʼll never right the innocent, and yeʼll let the guilty ride over ye. I canna tell no more just now, but every word is gospel. I be no liar, miss, though I be rough enough, God knows. Supposes He made me so.”

      Then Amy, trembling at his words, and thinking that she had hurt his feelings, put her soft little hand, for amends, into Zakeyʼs great black piece of hold, which looked like the bilge of a barge; and he wondered what to do with it, such a sort of chap as he was. He had never heard of kissing a hand, and even if he had it would scarcely be a timely offering, for he was having a chaw to compose himself – yet he knew that he ought not, in good manners, to let go her hand in a hurry; so what did he do but slip off a ring (one of those so–called galvanic rings, in which sailors and bargemen have wonderful faith as an antidote to rheumatics, tick dolorous, and the Caroline Morgan), and this ring he passed down two of her fingers, for all females do love trinkets so. Amy kept it carefully, and will put it on her chatelaine, if ever she institutes one.

      Then, being convinced by his words and manner, she told him everything she knew about the Garnet family – their behaviour in and after the great misfortune; the strange seclusion of Pearl, and Mr. Garnetʼs illness. And then she recurred to some vague rumours which had preceded their settlement in the New Forest. To all this Issachar listened, without a word or a nod, but with his narrow forehead radiant with concentration, his lips screwed up in a serrate ring, after the manner of a medlar, and a series of winks so intensely sage that his barge might have turned a corner with a team of eight blind horses, and no nod wanted for one of them.

      “Ainʼt there no more nor that, miss?” he asked, with some disappointment, when the little tale was ended; “canʼt you racollack no more?”

      “No, indeed I cannot. And if you had not some important object, I should be quite ashamed of telling you so much gossip. If I may ask you a question now, what more did you expect me to tell you?”

      “That they had knowʼd, miss, as Bull Garnet were Sir Cradock Nowellʼs brother.”

      “Mr. Garnet Sir Cradockʼs brother! You must be mistaken, Mr. Jupp. My father has known Sir Cradock Nowell ever since he was ten years old; and he could not have failed to know it, if it had been so.”

      “Most like he do know it, miss. But dunna you tell him now, nor any other charp. It be true as gospel for all that, though.”

      “Then Robert and Pearl are Cradockʼs first cousins, and Mr. Garnet is his uncle!”

      “Not ezackly as you counts things,” answered the bargeman, looking at the fire; “but in the way as we does.”

      Amy felt that she must ask no more, at least upon that subject; and that she was not likely to speak of it even to her father.

      “Let him go, miss,” continued Issachar, referring now to Cradock; “let him go for a long sea–vohoyage, same as doctor horders un. He be better out of the way for a spell or two. The Basingstoke ainʼt fur enoo, whur I meant to ‘ave took him. ‘A mun be quite out o’ the kintry till this job be over like. And niver a word as to what I thinks to coom anigh his ear, miss, if so be you vallies his raison.”

      “But you forget, Mr. Jupp, that you have not told me, as yet, at all what it is you do think. You said some things which frightened me, and you told me one which astonished me. Beyond that I know nothing.”

      “And better so, my dear young leddy, a vast deal better so. Only you have the very best hopes, and keep your spirits roaring. Zakey Jupp never take a thing in hand but what he go well through with it. Ask Rachey about that. Now this were a casooal haxident, mind you, only a casooal haxident – ”

      “Of course we all know that, Mr. Jupp. No one would dare to think anything else.”

      “Yes, yes; all right, miss. And weʼll find out who did the casooal haxident – thatʼs all, miss, thatʼs all. Only you hold your tongue.”

      She was obliged to be content with this, and on the whole it greatly encouraged her. Then she returned to the Portland Hotel under convoy of all the Jupp family, and Issachar got into two or three rows by hustling every one out of her way. Although poor Amy was frightened at this, no doubt it increased her faith in him through some feminine process of dialectics unknown to the author of the Organon.

      Though Amy could not bear to keep anything secret from her father, having given her word she of course observed it, and John was greatly surprised at the spirits in which his daughter took leave of Cradock. But there were many points in Amyʼs character, as has been observed before, which her father never understood; and he concluded that this was a specimen of them, and was delighted to see her so cheerful.

      Now, being returned to Nowelhurst, he held counsel with sister Eudoxia, who thoroughly deserved to have a vote after contributing so to the revenue. And the result of their Lateran – for they both were bricks – council was as follows: That John was bound, howsoever much it went against his proud stomach after his previous treatment, to make one last appeal from the father according to the spirit to the father according to the flesh, in favour of the unlucky son