Antony Gray-Gardener Part 19

"A duke's that," declared Job, "but the mould's different."

"Saints alive!" cried Antony, "it's no matter what the mould may be.

Sure, it's just a question of what it's been used for at all. My mould has been used for labour since I was little more than a boy, and stiffer labour than this little smiling village has dreamt of, that's sure.

Besides, think of your wife and child, man."

Job hesitated, debated within his soul. "It's them I am thinking of," he said; "I could fend for myself well enough, and snap my fingers at Curtis and his like."

"Then, 'tis settled," said Antony with amazing cheerfulness.

There was a silence.

"Well," said Job at last, "if you're in the same mind a week hence, but don't you go for doing things in a hurry-like, that you'll repent later."

"'Tis settled now," said Antony. "Tell your wife, and snap your fingers at that old curmudgeon."

Nevertheless despite his cheery a.s.surance, he had a very bitter qualm at his heart as, an hour or so later, he looked round his little cottage, and realized, even more forcibly, precisely what he had done.

"Never mind," he told himself and Josephus with a good show of bravery, "it's not for a lifetime. And, hang it all, a man's mere comfort ought to give way before injustice of that kind."

Thus he buoyed himself up.

And then another aspect of affairs arose.

No one knew how the matter of the intended arrangement leaked out. Job vowed he'd mentioned it to no one but his wife; his wife vowed she mentioned it to no one but Job. Perhaps they spoke too near an open window. Be that as it may, Antony, again at work in his garden one evening, became aware of Mr. Curtis looking at him over the little hedge.

"Good evening," said Mr. Curtis smoothly.

"Good evening," returned Antony equally smoothly, and going on with his work.

"I hear you're thinking of taking in lodgers," said Mr. Curtis blandly.

"Sure now, that's interesting hearing," returned Antony pleasantly, and wondering who on earth had babbled.

"Perhaps," said Mr. Curtis, still blandly, "I was misinformed. I heard the Grantleys were moving up here. I daresay it was merely an idle rumour."

"Sure it may have been," returned Antony nonchalantly, and sticking his spade into the ground.

"It must have been," said Mr. Curtis thoughtfully. "All lodging houses are rented at ten s.h.i.+llings a week, even unfurnished small ones, not five s.h.i.+llings. Besides Grantley is only getting a pound a week wage. He can't afford to live in apartments, unless he's come in for a fortune. If he has I must look out for another man. Men with fortunes get a trifle above themselves, you know. Besides he'd naturally not wish to stay on. But of course the whole thing's merely a rumour. I'd contradict it if I were you. Good evening."

He walked up the lane smiling.

"You bounder," said Antony softly, looking after him. "Just you wait till next March, my friend."

He left his spade stuck into the earth, and went back into the cottage.

Half an hour later, he was walking quickly in the direction of Byestry.

Doctor Hilary was in his surgery, when he was told that Michael Field had asked if he could see him. He went at once to the little waiting-room.

Antony rose at his entrance.

"Good evening, sor," he said, touching his forehead. "Can you be sparing me five minutes' talk?"

"By all means," said Doctor Hilary. "Sit down."

Antony sat down. In a few brief words he put the Grantley affair before him.

"Well?" said Doctor Hilary, as he finished.

"Well," queried Antony, "can nothing be done?"

Doctor Hilary shook his head. "I am not the agent. I have no voice in the management of the estate."

"Then you can do nothing?"

"I am afraid not."

"Thank you," said Antony, "that's all I wanted to know." He got up.

"Sit down again," said Doctor Hilary.

Antony sat down.

"What do you mean to do?" asked Doctor Hilary quietly.

Antony looked directly at him.

"The only thing I can do. I'll get that extra rent to Job somehow. He mustn't know it comes from me; I must think out how to manage. But, of course, that's merely a make-s.h.i.+ft in the business. I wanted the injustice put straight."

Doctor Hilary looked through the window behind Antony.

"Let me advise you," said he, "to do nothing of the kind."

"Why not?" The words came short and rather quick.

"Because Mr. Curtis means to get rid of Grantley. He has got his knife into him, as Grantley said. Your action would merely postpone the evil day, and make it worse in the postponement. Job Grantley had better go."

"And how about another job?" demanded Antony.

Doctor Hilary shrugged his shoulders. "He must see what he can find."

"Well of all the--" began Antony. And then he stopped. After all, he'd seen enough injustice in his time, to be used to it.

"You're honest in saying I would make it worse for Job if I tried to help him?" he asked.

"Perfectly honest," said Doctor Hilary with an odd little smile.

Antony again got up from his chair.