JILL OF THE FIELDS
[By KEN N AAV AY JAMES.]
A ROMANCE
(Author of “ Hers to Command,” “ What Hargreaves Knew,” etc.)
CHAPTER X. The Burglary. • Stone Town, on the night of Jill’s visit . from Mark and Barbour, was wrapped in-November; fog. This suited the purpose of a man who narrowly escaped colliding with old George on his way back home. He had made a careful examination of the house, and was waiting until , the appropriate time to make an entrance. 1 Stone Town, as has been observed, had its , men’s quarters in a separate wing. - ■ The- house itself at the moment housed'only Jill, with Mrs Blore and a few housemaids and general female farm 1 - helpers. , Old Jasper Merridriw had had an electric bell fitted in this wing, and connected with his bedroom, it gave him great satisfaction to ring it at length every morning to make sure that the men were at their work betimes. AVhen Jill took over the farm she-had the connection laid on to the Ladyes’ Room, though for p, different purpose. She preferred to leave the hour of starting work to the men’s honour and the vigilance of Mark, but she felt that in an emergency, such as fire, it would bo essential to call for assistance. .The men had instructions, therefore, to come along to the house should this bell be rung., So far Jill had never rung it. ’ " On'this'night she was sleeping so fitfully'that she was ready to be awakened' by the slightest • sound, and long after midnight, woke to hear someone moving 1 about downstairs. She rose from her bed, threw a dressing gown around her, and crept out on to the landing. Then she quietly descended the stairs,- pausing halfway to peer over cbe banisters. ‘ The door of the room which had been her father’s study was open, and Jill could see the flash of.an electric torch. She was not lacking in courage, <but in her present state of nerves she did not feel equal to confronting a burglar. Therefore she crept back to her room, and rang the bell to the men’s quarters. As soon as she. had done it she regretted it, for it had the effect which she should have foreseen. A moment later there was, a sound such as was commonly associated with Bedlam, from which emerged an excited whoop from Larry Luby. That qny burglar should await the. arrival of such a mob was absurd. ■ and Jill went downstairs and entered her late father’s room, to find it empty. A, glance was enough to show that an attempt had been made to force the large desk, which stood in a deep recess. Jill then turned to the men,,, who were crowding round the door. “You sons of AVhipsnade! ” she cried. “ Why ever didn’t you , come down quietly? You’ve let a burglar go.” Then, she laughed. “ But it wasn’t your fault,” she added. “ I expect you thought it was a fire.” “ We sartingly did,” said one of the men, “ and Larry ,Luby said he could smell smoke.” ~ Well.' off you go to bed again,” said Jill. “ AA’ait a moment, though. One of you go arid fetch Mr Hanson.” “ AVho were- the sons of AVhipsnade? ’’ asked Larry Luby on the way back. i An old man named Barnes, who boasted of great Scriptural knowledge, made reply: “ Leviticus, chapter 8, verse 9,”, he said. 1 ’ It was not long before Mark arrived. Many-thoughts had crossed his mind on his way to the farm. Uppermost in his mind, Was that, the burglary was in some way connected with Phillip Barbourr and he had already made a vow to discover more about Barbour in the immediate future. - . 1 Jill-was awaiting him in the hall; “ AVe’ve had a burglar, Mark,” she said. Whatever would make a .burglar/ come to Stone Town, 1 wonder?” “'That’s what’s puzzling me,” said Mark. “ It may be one of those thieves of ■ antiques.” “ But they wouldn’t try to break open xny father's-des l . ■ Look.” She Jed the way .to the study and pointed to the mark on the desk. “ Seems as though'there is something in there which somebody wants.” “But there’s nothing there but bundles of old papers. I’ll let you look some time.. .On, in,any case, Mr Barhour has asked , to 1 look at some old documents about Stone Town which will help hint in some- county history or something.” Mark could not resist a mild whistle, arid Jill turned upon him quickly. “Why do you do that?” she asked. “Oh,-l had an idea, but on second thoughts ! don’t think it’s any good.” His evasion had a twofold reason. He did not wish to quax-rel again with Jill, whilst' he thought it bettef for her not to think he suspect**! Barbour in any way. Nevertheless, Jill was not entirely deceived. “ By the way, Mark, you shouldn’t have . rushed off to-night as you did,” she said, Mark laughed. • “ Is there anything.more I shouldn’t have done except tell you I love you? I’ll trill you that again if you like.” “ Oh, don’t, Mark—not now!” “ All right then,” said Mark, “ but I’m griing to ask you something. Have you been crying, Jill?” He looked straight into her eyes. She started a little. Evidently the sponging and massaging had not been completely successful. “ What a sight I must look,” she said. “You don’t,” said Mark; then, insistently,- “ Why were you crying? I want to know.” This was a new Mark to her. He seemed suddenly to have taken a selfgiven possession of her. But his insistence was in vain. ’ “ See, Mark,” she said, “ if you keep oil insisting I shall cry again. I feel like that. Now please run along. I am sorry to have disturbed you, and it was kind of you to come.” Tired Jill. She looked adorably helpless.. All Mark’s Jove came to him again, and he forgot the Barbour episode. “ All right, then,” he said, opening the door to the hall. “ Good-night—-my precious.” A moment later he was gone, and Jill went back to bed, with his last two words still in her ears. Mark went about his work next day with a light heart. He little knew that a black patch in his life was not far away, and that the maker of it was to be old George. It was ordained that later in the day George and he should meet. George was on his way to an adjoining farm to “ help with the cider-mak-ing,” as was his custom. “Ah, Master Hanson,” he said. “This-place is getting uncommon exciting ; .it’s nearly giving me the epilek-
tics. -Burglars! Fancy that, - now! AVonder what'they were after?” , Mark still felt that old George know something of the niystery of Barhour’s appearance in the district, but ho did not want tb press him at present. “ 1 couldn’t say, George,” he said. “ AATiat do you think?” “Ah!” said the provocative old man, “ it’s not for. me to say. How’s Mr Barbour a-going on? 1 see lie’s hack again.” “ Damn Mr Barbour,” said Mark testily. “That’s what 1 say,” said George, spitting to give emphasis. Inwardly he was reserving his real views of Mr Barbour till he had met that gentleman himself. At the same time lie had much loyalty towards Mark, and thought, possibly wrongly, that Mark should be told of what had occurred on the previous evening. ’ “ He’s a rare one with the ladies, anyhow,” he said. “ AVhat do yon mean?” asked Mark. “ AVell, 1 happened to be passing the kitchen window at the farm last night, and 1 stopped to light my pipe, aind ” “ You’d no right there,” said Mark, laughing, little knowing what was to come. • “ Well,” went on George, “ I happened to look through the window, and there, just like the fillums, was Mr Barbour a-kissing and a-cuddling Miss Jill!” ' CHAPTER XI. There’s More Going to Happen. Mark Hanson knew old George well enough to realise that on topics, of importance he did not tell liris. Yet the ancient’s description of the scene between J ill and Pnillip Barbour was one which he felt it impossible at first to believe. “ Kissing and a-cuddling like billy-o ” were words which smote his heart so that he directly called old George a liar. “ 1 don’t believe a word of what you say,” he said. "And if you’re joking .1 may as well tell you that it’s, not the kind of joke 1 like.” “There’s- no joke about it, Master Hanson,” said George. “If I sees a thing 1. secs it,, and I saw theni, as plain as on a nllum. And. the tunny part about it was that she didn’t seem to be enjoyin’ it like most girls would. Seemed to me, in fact, as if she was crying. Thei c’s no understanding girls in those days. There was never a one who cried when 1 kissed ’erii.” Unknowingly old George had put the seal of veracity upon his words, for Mark, remembered that he himself had observed Jill to have been crying, arid he also remembered Jill’s reluctance_to tell him the cause of her trouble. No, there seemed no cause to doubt ■George’s words -after that. - “LoOk here, George,” he said, “ trill mo some more about it. You seem to be speaking the truth, and 1 may as well tell you that I’m more than interested. I’ve known you a long time now, and 1 don’t mind saying'that I’iri, very fond of Miss “Merridew.” “ Well, well, now,” said George, “ 1 should never have thought it. Not that T’m surprised, for she’s as nice a girl as you’d meet in a day’s march, and I know a nice girl when'l see one. Always did. But 1 didn’t know you’d got as fond of her'as all that. Still, I’ve said it now. so there we go. It’s a fact, Master Hanson.” “ You really mean that they were kissing?” asked March in a kind of amesthesia. It was beyond Mark to see any humour in George’s remarks. He felt more inclined to throttle the old rascal. “ I wish to heaven you wouldn’t meddle with things that don’t concern you,” he said suddenly, on the verge of losing his temper. “ I don’t believe for a moment that yon were accidentally passing the window. You’ve no right to be spying on Miss Merridew, and 1 shall tell her about it in the morning.” _ • -. There was a hard gleam in George’s eyes, as he replied, emphasising his phtases by thrusting the stem of his pipe towards Mark: “Steady now. Master Hanson. I’ve knpwcd Miss Jill a lot longer than you. I always promised her father I’d look after her if anything happened.to him. And I’m going to do it. There’s some funny things a-happening round these parts at present.” There was the suspicion of a threat in George’s final nod of the head, and it came to Mark’s mind that the old man knew something about the mysterious Mr Barbour. No, it would not be prudent to offend George., “ All right, George,” he said. “ I’m not really angry with you ; but I happen to care for Miss Jill, and I’m naturally upset at what you’ve been telling me-. Let’s talk it over as friends. _ Tell mo, what do you know about this Mr Barbour Do you think he has anything to do with the burglary ?’’ “ You’re asking a lot, Master Hanson,” said George, solemnly. _ “ Still, you’ve said we’re to talk it over friendly-like, so I’ll say that I don’t only think Mr Barbour’s got summat to do with it. I know.” “ Come, come. George! Do you really mean that?” asked Mark, in astonishment. “ Every word of it,” said George, giving his dry old lips a smack. “ I’ve known it all-along, hut it don’t do for me to say anything.” . “ AVhy not?” “ AVell, I’m going to bide m.y own time. It’s funny I should know so much about affairs on this farm, and then get into trouble for catching an ’are now and then.” George restored his pipe with the air of a man who has played a trump card. “ You can catch as many as you like so far as I’m concerned,” said Mark, and he had the satisfaction of seeing George’s eyes light up with pleasure. “ There now,” answered the old man. “ You’re talking real friendly, by gum you are. I’ll hare to tell you a big lot about Mr Barbour one of these days.” “ AVhy not now?” “ Because I want to find out a few more things first. If you ask me anything, this business is only just abeginning.” Mark could see that it was useless to press George too much. The fellow had Ills own quaint habits, and he was too old to change them. “ Very well, George,” he said, “ I’ll try to wait a bit longer, hut don’t forget yon won’t lire for ever. A’ou’ve poj; a duty to Miss Merridew. and I think you ought to share your knowledge with somebody a bit younger. Still. I won’t worry you. But don’t forget that if there’s anything in the way of a favour I can do for you, I shaH .be very glad to do it.”
George gave a cackle and pulled at his whiskers. “ I’m not an easy one to do favours to,” ho said. “ I get as much money as I needs, but 1 will say you’ve pleased me a lot about what you say regarding them ’ares.” _ George was speaking the truth. If he had Had to choose between a pound note and a poached hare he would have chosen the Imre. “Anyhow,” continued George, “I’ll think over what you say. You’re right about Miss Jill and .duty. Yes, I’ll think.it over;,.then, p’raps we’ll have another talk about it. . But, mark my words, there’s more going to happen.” Mark felt that he ■ had made considerable, headway with the old fellow, and asked him to accompany him back to the farm for some cider. George accepted readily, for with him cider came second only to poached hares. ThCy spoke of other things as they walked,. though Mark found 'it difficult to, keep his mind from the thing which George .had told him. He was too stunned to appreciate it properly. That Jill had been kissed by Barbour seemed to mean the end of whatever hopes he had had of winning Jill; and those hopes had been . higher. of late than they had been for some time. . Having drunk some cider with George, and left the old man sitting beside a jug of it. Mark went into the cutting house to think the matter over carefullv. He was in two minds about telling 'Jill of it. Naturally, he had no wish to provoke a quarrel with her, yet he felt she thoroughly deserved to be told that he. knew of the episode of the previous night. That Jill was privileged to he the mistress of her own destiny he. knew full well, but eventually he decided to tell her without divulging the source of his information. Meanwhile Jill herself was in a quandary just as perplexing. The excitement of the attempted burglary had, for a time, taken her mind off Barhour, hut now that the day had come, and with it the prospect of another call from that gentleman, she had to make a decision ns to what should bo her attitude towards, him. She hardly knew the fellow, and felt a dull resentment, of his audacity in attempting to kiss her. But there had been a certain genuine kindliness in his manner. He seemed strong and comforting at a time when she was giving way to emotional stress. She supposed Mark 'Would have been the same in the circumstances. No ; perhaps not quite the same. He was it little too—well, too rugged—to compare with so finished a product as Mr Barbour. Ho would have been awkward and embarrassed, and would have made her feel even more ashamed than she was of her weak surrender to self-pity—for that was how she now regarded her tears of the previous night. (To be continued.).
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ESD19340201.2.19
Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 21634, 1 February 1934, Page 3
Word Count
2,684JILL OF THE FIELDS Evening Star, Issue 21634, 1 February 1934, Page 3
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