SHORT STORY.

Dunstan Times, Issue 2409, 18 November 1907, Page 6

SHORT STORY.

MU. LESTER’S ACCIDENT. Er.>rybody said that it was very kind of Mr. Lester to take the trouble he diet in the case ol j*>or Jack Foster. When Jack was feuad Qrowued in the liver Mr. Lester paid the funeral expanses aud looked after the widow in a way far from any claims that the family had upon him. His interest in the •ao case was oven more kindly when you considered that ho himself was laid up at the time with the effects of bis gun accident. ‘ He was a good master,* was the general opinion, : and know how to treat them as worked for him as a gentleman should do.’ Old Furman, the gardener at the Hall, bad a way of pocUoriug up his brows when Mr. hosier's praises in this matter were sounded in his presence. But he was an incommunicative old fellow, and whether or not iliis implied that he had his doubts about it nobody know, for he said nothing on the subject. But he looked a good deal. Mr. Charles Lester was a younger son with a small allowance. When his brother inherited the baronetcy and entered into possession at the Hall, Charles settled down in ono of the estate villages a few miles off. His income did not permit the keeping of an establishment of any size. He was unmarried, and lived in a pretty little ivy-covered house, secluded from the road by high hedges and shrubberies. Jack Foster was his man of all work and Mrs. Foster was housekeeper. Jack’s occupation* wore of a various kind. He was gardener, groom, footman, boote, and grown-up errand boy rolled into one. In the early morning you would see him coming from the farm with the milk, previous to cleaning Lxiots and knives in the outhouse. It was always a puzzle to the village how Mrs. Foster had come to marry Jack. He was a quiet, simple-minded, easy-going fellow, hard-working and good hearted. She was a country wench, who had been taken young into the service of a big family, and had become lady’s maid, with the usual result that she gave herself fine a>rs and had her head stuffed with notions of high life and imitative admiration of ‘ the gentry.* As for her dresses, everybody wondered how Jack oeuld afford them. If Jack had not been a dull fellow and blind to what was going on under his nose, he would have seen that he was not the only person aware of his wife's good looks. But he was continually busy, and generally out of the house; and the almost unconcealed signs of an understanding between her and Mr. Lester went unnoticed by him. And vet the truth was that the silly woman, with her flighty head turned by her apings of gentility and high life, had been at first flattered by the secret attentions of a ‘ gentleman,’ aud after a little had fallen an easy victim to the illicit passion of her husband’s employer. But Jack suspected nothing; and Lester, so far from finding him in the way, was rather amused than otherwise at the idea of possessing the woman under her husband’s very eyes. Besides, it was mighty convenient to be able to keep her on the premises without offending the susceptibilities of the neighbourhood, as he was able to do under cover of the highly-respectable arrangement of employing a married couple. ‘ 1 want you to go over to the Hall this evening, Foster,’ said Mr. Lester to Jack one afternoon. ‘laman will have a lot of pot plants for the greenhouse for yon. Take the pony and cart. As it will be rather dark for driving bock, they’ll put you up for the night; only be back as early as you can in the morning.’ It was a favourite plan of Lester’s to send Jack over night to the Hall on one pretence or another.

‘All right, sir,’ said Jack, touching his cap. ‘ It'll bo light now a little arter six, an’ I can get on the road by then.’ Farman had been a gardener at the Hall for nearly forty years. He was a shrewd and observant old man. He had known Lester from a boy. * He wor a black when he wor a little un, an’ a dam black he’ll be as long as his name is Charlie Lester,’ was the summary of his knowledge of the man that he had often muttered to himself. ‘lt ain’t my place nor yet my interest for to go an’ jaw about it, but 1 a’ got my opinion 'bout young Master Charlie all the same.’ He turned his sour smile upon Foster as they met in the Hall garden in the dusk of that evening. ‘Hullo!’ ho said. ‘You here again? Goin' for to stay the night as usual, I suppose ?’ Jack signified that he was. * I thowt as much,’ said the old man, turning away with a dry chuckle. ‘ Well, an' what’s wrong with it if I am f’ asked Jack. ‘ Did I say as there wor anything wrong with it f If you like to be a duzzy fool, it ain’t for me to say anything agin it.’ ‘ Been eatin' summat as 'a disagreed wi' you, Farman F You’re powerful snappy this evenin’, I must say. What’s the fool about, eh?’ ‘ Look ’ere, young ’uu,’ said Farman. * Between you an’ me, if I wor a young chap, with a pretty wife, it ain't in a house alone along wi' Charlie Lester as I should care about leavin’ her as often as you seem to git told to do.’ And the old fellow tun: ad and rambled off down the garden. Jack had been smoking his pipe in a specially good humour. But at this speech the smile faded out of his face, and for a moment all he could do was to stand staring helplessly at the old man’s retreating figure. Then, with a start as though he had been stung, he rushed forward and caught Farman by the shoulder. 4 Do you know what you've said ?’ ho asked, iu an agitated voice. ‘ You’ve either said too much or too little. If you were just having’ your joke, you’ve said too much, an’ I’ll punch your old head off your shoulders for it. But if you’ v e seen anything as makes you say what you did, then you’ve got to say more, an’ tell me what Oh, for God’s sake, Farman, what do you know e-bout it P* he concluded, his voice breaking off into a quaver at the last. Farman was touched by the other’s agitation, and, laying his hand on the younger man’s arm, spoke in a kindlier voice than was customary with him. * There, there,’ he said. ‘ I’m an old fool to say what I did. I don’t say a word agin your missus, Jack—not a word, an’ as like as not I’m all wrong about it. It’s only what I know about your master as makes me think it ain’t exactly wise tor to leave the woman you’re fond of in this way. Don’t you think no more about it now, bat just keep your eye c.u him in future; that's all.’

‘ By God, Farman,’ Jack broke out, * if I thought as there was anything like that I’d —l'd—l dunno what I should do’ You can’t think how you’ve upset me. An’ when ' think of it, he ’as been a-sendin’ me over here often enough, an’ tollin’ me ’ Ha paused for a moment, mechanically fumbling with his pipe. Then, raising his head with » jerk, he abruptly bade the old man good night and hurriedly strode out of the garden. If was dark by now. As soon as he reached the road he began to run. He was not at all clear what he was going to do. Then the impossibility of the thing struck him, and he thought what a fool he would look to go plunging into the house in his excited state. Farman was only an old gossip. He slackened his pace and was in two minds about going back. And then it came over him again. • But if it should be so V And he set; out again at his top speed. He was breathless and palpitating when ho reached the house. There was no light in the back rooms kitchen and his bedroom were dark. Possibly his wife had felt lonely and bad gone to bed early. But, if so, «hy was the door unfastened? This trivial circumstHi.ee jarred upon bim like a sue uni confirmation of suspicion; aud he Vioic u. ipneily. Thu uuor from the kitchen into the hal l

leading to the front pan of in« housewas wide open. Ho could see a thread ot light across the hall from the door of ono of the front rooms, which was slightly ajar. There were voices, too—their voices. And as ho stood and listened, and learned the truth, a dizziness overcame him, aud ho groped for the wail to support himself. His hand fell upon something hard and cold. Ho stood thus for several minutes, oblivious of his surroundings aud torn by his feelings of despair, when he became conscious that ho was grasping the barrel of the old shot-gun that he kept standing in a corner of the kitchen to scare the bird* from tho fruit trees in the garden, and found himself going noiselessly up tho hall with it. Lester and Mrs. Forster wore joking coarsely about Jack. The woman was sitting on the sofa, facing the door , Lester was facing her, with his back to the door. They were both in the midst of a burst of laughter whoa all at once he saw her face become ghastly. Tho lines of laughter were still upon it, but it was as though they had been suddenly frozen into a mask, with terror staring out of the eyes of it. He turned in the direction of her look and eaw the barrel of a gun set towards him and Jack standing in the doorway, hardly recognisable with pallor, and eyes more like a spectre’s than those of a man. Ashe turned Jack fired and dropped the gun and, without a word, rushed out of the house. His body was found in the river next day. Lester was not seriously hurt, for Jack was trembling with excitement when he fired, and his aim was unsteady and hnd only caught his master’s arm. When the inquest was held Lester wrote to the Coroner, saying that he should have been glad to come and speak as to the deceased’s character, but unfortunately an accident, through careless handling of a gun he was cleaning, confined him to the house. ‘Accident!’ muttered old Farman. ‘ Well, I ain’t a-goin’ to put in my spoke into this business, but I fancy, my hussy ’ —glancing at Mrs. Forster—‘ as how you could say summat about that accident, if all was known.’— Jauks Feedkhio.