Kezia and Bessie remained chattering vigorously after George departed from them, but neither ventured to speak upon the subject which threatened to convert friendship into rivalry. It was true, owing to an unfortunate slip of the tongue, Bessie mentioned how grand the silver candlesticks would look upon her mantelpiece; but Kezia merely replied that Mrs. Drake had been very generous to Mr. George in leaving him a will as a remembrance of her, although she presently administered a rebuke by speaking about her future retirement, when she looked forward to reading her books of religious instruction by the light of wax candles set in the candlesticks aforesaid. To which Bessie replied somewhat feebly they wouldn't be of any use to Miss Yard because she used a reading lamp. She could not trust herself to say more, but, when gathering up her share of the testamentary doc.u.ments preparatory to departure, another idea occurred, and she asked, "Who do the house belong to?"

"Mrs. Drake said to me a lot of times it wur to go to Miss Sophy."

"Who gets it when she dies?"

"I don't know. If n.o.body else wants it, I don't mind taking it," said Kezia.

"Mr. George is sure to ask vor it," said Bessie, moving slowly towards the door.

"Well, he won't get it," replied Kezia sharply.

Bessie crossed the road and welcomed Robert from the bakery with the announcement that a domestic crisis was impending. Robert studied the doc.u.ments, and agreed with his wife they would certainly be called upon to fight for their rights. Then he asked for information concerning George, and Bessie replied, "He ain't to get nothing."

"Didn't Mrs. Drake leave 'en a will?" questioned the cautious Robert.

"Kezia ses it ain't really a will. It's a codicil, and that means he gets nothing 'cept the little bit o' money in the bank, and he'll have to pay out all that vor the funeral expenses. Miss Sophy gets the house, and me and Kezia has the furniture."

"Then Mr. George is ruined!" exclaimed Robert.

"Best thing what could happen to 'en," said Bessie.

Robert had his tea, then went out into the village to report. Since the days when he had first gazed upward, fascinated by the alt.i.tude of Bessie's windswept features, he had acted as an intermediary between Windward House and the general public, bringing the scandal, fresh and greasy as his own doughnuts; and bearing to the village green--which was not so green as it sounded, for the signpost represented a rising sun--valuable items of information regarding Mrs. Drake's most recent act of charity, or Miss Yard's latest part.i.tion of a tea service. On this occasion he brought news which was to set all the tongues wagging: George Drake, the most respected man in Highfield, the sole gentleman, the fearless idler, was now a homeless fellow, a dest.i.tute person, without a sc.r.a.p of inheritance he could call his own. The Drake whom they had honoured as a swan was hardly worth the price of a goose.

A gentleman was not defined by the worthies of Highfield as a man of good birth, but as one who declined all labour. George had fulfilled this definition admirably. An idler, it was argued, possessed ample means, and for that cause he was respected. Highfield required nothing further of him, except that he should wear decent clothing and not be seen with his coat off, digging potatoes or nailing two pieces of board together; even the picking of peas was a dangerous pastime, while mowing the lawn would have meant an irremediable loss of caste. It could honestly be said of George that he had done nothing disgraceful; he had kept his hands clean; he was far more of a gentleman than his uncle had been. And now he was exposed as a common impostor who had been wearing an order of chivalry to which he was not ent.i.tled.

"I always thought," said the Wallower in Wealth, who, above all men, had respected George, "that when Mrs. Drake died he would have her money."

Everybody in the place had thought the same; and were now to realise that George had bitterly deceived them.

"He don't get nothing," declared Robert. "The furniture comes to Bessie, and the house goes to Miss Yard."

"What do old Kezia get?" inquired a charitable voice.

"What me and Bessie like to give her," replied Robert.

George went to sleep that night sure of his position as the most popular man in Highfield parish; for everybody knew how the odious scheme of a Dartmoor railway had been brought to nothing owing to his strenuous opposition. Nor did he suppose, upon going into the village the following morning, that his glory had departed. He was therefore unpleasantly surprised to be greeted by nodding of heads, and no longer by hands uplifted to the forehead. Highfield nodded to equals, and touched hats to superiors. George did not like the omen.

The Yellow Leaf was enjoying a large slice of bread upon which b.u.t.ter, cream, and jam were piled in lavish quant.i.ties; and when George inquired after Mrs. Y. Leaf, he received the answer, spoken with some asperity:

"Her be tedious this morning. Ses her be going quick, and I be to hurry after; but I tells she I b'ain't agoing to hurry."

"Would you like to buy my giant tortoise? I'll sell him for five shillings," George continued.

"What would I do wi' a tor-toys?" asked the Yellow Leaf with great deliberation.

"It's a nice friendly animal," explained George.

"Would he make gude eating?" asked the Yellow Leaf.

"Might be a bit tough, but he'd make splendid soup," said George.

"I ha' no craving vor gigantic tor-toyses, thankye. And if I did crave vor 'en, how be I to know he'm yours to sell?"

"Of course it's mine. Everything belongs to me," said George sharply.

"Then you have been told lies."

"I ha' heard another tale."

"I hears plenty o' they. Don't ye ever think o' driving that old toat of a tor-toys into my garden, vor if you does I'll kick 'en." And with these words the Yellow Leaf withdrew into his cottage, munching severely at his bread and jam.

Bessie has been talking, thought George, as he went along the road, to pause beside a potato patch where Squinting Jack was whistling as he worked. He looked up and nodded, then went on digging, while George drew near and remarked:

"I'm selling off the animals."

"Sorry I b'ain't a butcher, sir," said Squinting Jack.

"I've got a very good half Persian cat for sale at two shillings,"

George continued.

"How much would ye charge vor the whole cat?" asked Squinting Jack.

"I mean it's part Persian."

"Which part?" asked the humourist.

George laughed somewhat feebly, while Squinting Jack continued, "I've got a whole English cat what you can have vor nothing."

By this time George had discovered he was not so well liked as formerly, and the reason was not far to seek: Kezia and Bessie were advertising their own triumph and trumpeting his misfortunes. George went a long walk, climbed a steep hill, and sat upon the summit, trying to work out a plan of campaign which might enable him to obtain the victory over all his enemies.

"Why not shift the responsibility?" he muttered at length. "That's the plan right enough--shift it on to Percy. He wants to run the whole show--why not let him?"

George meditated yet more deeply, rubbing his head which was nothing like so dense as his relations had supposed. "Percy means to do me, so it's my duty to do him. When you want to catch anything you set a trap.

And now I've got it!" George shouted exultantly. "I'll tempt Percy with the furniture--I'll get him to buy it! Then I shall have the cash, while he can settle with Kezia and Bessie, and all the rest of the beastly, selfish, money grabbing crowd."

CHAPTER IX

A SUBTLE SINNER'S SUCCESS

Mr. Hunter of Messrs. Martin and Cross sent George a very civil letter, acknowledging the will and announcing that the papers necessary for obtaining probate would be prepared in due course. As a valuation of the furniture would be required, he proposed to send down the man usually employed by his firm for that purpose, his knowledge being extensive and his fee moderate.

One other point Mr. Hunter wished to refer to. He had gathered, from an interview with Mr. Percy Taverner, that Miss Yard's mental condition left something to be desired: although in several respects a person competent to do business, she might be described as susceptible to the influence of a superior intelligence, and could therefore be prevailed upon to act in a manner contrary to her interests: she would--to put the matter plainly--sign a cheque if ordered by some other person to do so.

Mr. Hunter understood further that Miss Yard positively declined to leave Highfield House, which was now Mr. Drake's property by virtue of the phrase "all that I die possessed of" contained in the codicil to the will of Mrs. Drake deceased; and at her age it might perhaps be inadvisable to press her. The position was somewhat a delicate one, as he understood Mr. Drake's financial position was not possibly quite so strong as could be wished; and he might be desirous of selling the property. Or, on the other hand, he might be inclined to allow Miss Yard the use of the premises upon the undertaking that she provided him with board and lodging, and paid a peppercorn rent.