The Soul of Susan Yellam Part 26

Alfred laughed gaily.

"I've spoken a word to him. And a kinder gentleman, in spite of his coldish face, I never met. He shook hands with me, and told me you should have a whiff of fresh air."

And thus it was cosily arranged.

To find a responsible, capable fellow to take his place as village carrier, and to drive the precious 'bus, was not so easy of achievement.

But this, too, was managed through Mr. Hamlin. Alfred said uneasily:

"I ask you, sir, to keep an eye on William Saint."

"William Saint?"

"He's crafty as any fox, sir, and a rare pusher. Mother fears that he may push himself into my good business."

Hamlin promised to bear this possibility in mind. Then Alfred, with groanings and travailings, delivered himself of the last burden on his mind:

"I'm sore troubled about Mother."

Hamlin held his tongue.

"She's taking this hard, but not a word does she say, not one. She thinks, I know, that G.o.d Almighty has forsaken her, pore soul. Such a mort o' trouble as she's had, too. My going seems the last straw.

'Twouldn't be so bad, if all the young men had gone first."

"I can imagine what she feels, Alfred. This is a time of sore trial to all of us, and, perhaps, the strongest suffer most. I will do what I can to comfort her, but I can do so little. In all my life I have never felt before how cheap mere words are. Now, go your way with a glad heart. Put these anxieties from you, hopefully, and so you will do your duty the better. G.o.d bless you!"

Alfred duly departed.

Before Lionel returned to France, the Squire's ardent desire was granted. He became the happy grandfather of a stout boy, with his sire's blue eyes and clear skin--a ten-pounder!

To celebrate this glorious event, the Squire built a shrine and dedicated it to the men of Nether-Applewhite who had answered the call to arms. It took the form of a fountain, with a granite trough for watering horses. Inside the fountain might be found a great slab of white marble with the names of the young fellows, in order, inscribed upon it in dull gold lettering, a very notable monument, as Uncle observed. It stood below the Church, opposite to the _Pomfret Arms_, in an open s.p.a.ce where roads branched. Folk, from far and near, came to look at it.

From the recruiting point of view, the fountain, as was generally admitted, furnished inspiration together with pure water to thirsty souls.

When Lionel went back to France, a drab pall of apathy settled again upon the village. Mrs. Yellam spent every morning at Pomfret Court, returning to her cottage after the mid-day meal, which she helped to serve. Fancy would dash down to see her after five o'clock tea. Within six weeks Alfred appeared in khaki, with forty-eight hours' leave. He had joined an infantry regiment, somewhat to his regret, for he had a leg for a kilt, and remembered the resplendent appearance of "No Account Harry."

"The Highlanders were in my mind, Mother. I'd a notion to enlist with them, but 'twas not to be."

Susan Yellam said reflectively:

"I prefer the Grannydeer Guards, to they Seafarin' Highlanders, Alfie."

"Ah-h-h! I might have gone for a horse-soldier, but when they told me 'twould be my pleasure and duty to keep my horse cleaner than myself, I thought twice about it. 'Tis a hard life, dear, but I feel wonderful strong, with a tremendous stomach for my victuals."

His appearance delighted Fancy.

They were photographed together, arm in crook, travelling to Salisbury as pa.s.sengers in Alfred's 'bus, which provoked many jests. But when Alfred went back to duty the corners in two hearts seemed more empty than before.

Meanwhile, Tommies had taken the place of Belgians at Pomfret Court, much to the satisfaction of the maids in the village. They were an amazing set of fellows, so the Squire decided, guests after his own heart, always ready to crack a joke, grousing about trifles, simply splendid when they discoursed about the war. Some of them, unlike the Belgians, were impatient to return to the front. They talked pleasantly of the enemy whom they spoke of generically as "Fritz." The kindest-hearted of the first lot, a little c.o.c.kney, bubbling over with fun and high spirits, ever ready to help the "Sisters" in any job that came to the one hand that had not been left in France, gloried in the distinction of having been in a bayonet charge. The Squire, much interested, asked for details, gleefully forthcoming.

"Yer see red, sir. I got after a fat 'Un. Lord lumme! 'E run a fair treat, 'e did. But I stuck him to rights. I lost my 'ead though.

Couldn't see nothink nor n.o.body except 'im. In my silly 'aste I missed some fine opportoonities."

"Opportunities?"

"Wounded 'Uns, sir, lyin' there to me 'and. I might 'ave 'ad 'arf-a-dozen notches on my old rifle, instead of one!"

"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Sir Geoffrey.

"Yer see, sir, we knows what they done to women and children."

By this time. George Mucklow and the first to join were at the front, and every Sunday, during Morning Service, Mr. Hamlin would stand up, before the Litany, and read out the names on the Roll of Honour. The congregation, after Service, remained quietly in the church till the National Anthem had been sung.

Mrs. Yellam sat alone in her pew, rigidly upright.

At home, alone in the evening, she talked to her dog. Solomon would sit in front of her, staring up into her ma.s.sive face, with one ear half-c.o.c.ked, very alert, very sympathetic.

"You be a wondersome dog."

Solomon's tail flickered.

"You knows more'n they donkeys as walks on two legs."

Solomon winked.

"You knows what a hard old flint I be, same as I digs up in garden."

Solomon laid a protesting paw upon her knee.

"You knows that I be tried beyond my powers, that I be mazed and dazed beyond what tongue can tell."

Solomon leaped into her lap, and attempted to lick her face.

"No, no, Solly; my kissing days be over."

Solomon refused to believe this.

"You knows, too, that my Alferd be going to the wars, and he won't come back. 'Twill kill that pore white-faced lil' maid. But 'twon't kill me, I be too tough, Sol. I be getting tougher. And I get no taste out o'

life neither. I be so wicked that, times, I could lift my hand to kill they who stay behind, guzzling ale, grinning because they think theirselves so clever! I fair wonders that you can love so wicked an old 'ooman as I be."

Solomon, as a last rea.s.suring protest, would curl up and fall asleep.

Mrs. Yellam would sit on, staring into the fire, trying to adjust the workings of the Divine Mind with her own perplexed intelligence. Often kindly sleep would come to the rescue, and she would wake with a start to find the fire burnt out and the kitchen cold. But Solomon lay snug and warm against her.

Many persons, besides Mrs. Yellam, were mazed and dazed during these Spring days. At Neuve Chapelle, our cavalry had their feet in stirrup ready to ride down the enemy, when a thick mist rolled up and balked them of their prey. Jupiter Pluvius seemed to be fighting against us.

The appalling earthquake in Italy was joyously affirmed by Germans to be G.o.d's judgment upon an ally who had deserted them. Strikes in the industrial parts, Irish troubles going from bad to worse, seemed to indicate the chastening hand of Omnipotence.

But we had accomplished a mighty miracle.

Five hundred thousand men were in France, and not a life lost during the perilous operations connected with transport.