Chapter 58

A PAIR OF HANDCUFFS

Mr. Blee, to do him justice, was usually the first afoot at Monks Barton, both winter and summer. The maids who slept near him needed no alarum, for his step on the stair and his high-pitched summons, "Now then, you lazy gals, what be snorin' theer for, an' the day broke?" was always sufficient to ensure their wakening.

At an early hour of the morning that dawned upon Will's nocturnal adventures, Billy stood in the farmyard and surveyed the shining river to an accompaniment of many musical sounds. On Monks Barton thatches the pigeons cooed and bowed and gurgled to their ladies, cows lowed from the byres, cocks crew, and the mill-wheel, already launched upon the business of the day, panted from its dark habitation of dripping moss and fern.

Billy sniffed the morning, then proceeded to a pig's sty, opened a door within it, and chuckled at the spectacle that greeted him.

"Burnish it all! auld sow 's farrowed at last, then. Busy night for her, sure 'nough! An' so fine a litter as ever I seed, by the looks of it."

He bustled off to get refreshment for the gaunt, new-made mother, and as he did so met Ted Chown, who now worked at Mr. Lyddon's, and had just arrived from his home in Chagford.

"Marnin', sir; have 'e heard the news? Gert tidings up-long I 'sure 'e."

"Not so gert as what I've got, I'll lay. Butivul litter 't is. Come an' give me a hand."

"Bonus was catched poachin' last night to the Red House. An' he've had his faace smashed in, nose broke, an' all. He escaped arter; but he went to Doctor fust thing to-day an' got hisself plastered; an' then, knawin' 't weern't no use to hide, comed right along an' gived hisself up to faither."

"My stars! An' no more'n what he desarved, that's certain."

"But that ban't all, even. Maister Jan Grimbal's missing! He rode off last night, Laard knaws wheer, an' never a sign of un seed since. They've sent to the station 'bout it a'ready; an' they 'm scourin' the airth for un. An' 't was Maister Blanchard as fought wi' Bonus, for Sam said so."

"Guy Fawkes an' angels! Here, you mix this. I must tell Miller an' run about a bit. Gwaine to be a gert day, by the looks of it!"

He hurried into the house, met his master and began with breathless haste,--

"Awful doin's! Awful doin's, Miller. Such a sweet-smellin' marnin', tu! Bear yourself stiff against it, for us caan't say what remains to be told."

"What's wrong now? Doan't choke yourself. You 'm grawin' tu auld for all the excitements of modern life, Billy. Wheer's Will?"

"You may well ax. Sleepin' still, I reckon, for he comed in long arter midnight. I was stirrin' at the time an' heard un. Sleepin' arter black deeds, if all they tell be true."

"Black deeds!"

"The bwoy Ted's just comed wi' it. 'T is this way: Bonus be at death's door wi' a smashed nose, an' Blanchard done it; an' Jan Grimbal's vanished off the faace o' the airth. Not a sign of un seed arter he drove away last night from the Jubilee gathering. An' if 't is murder, you'll be in the witness-box, knawin' the parties same as you do; an' the sow 's got a braave litter, though what's that arter such news?"

"Guess you 'm dreamin', Blee," said Mr. Lyddon, as he took his hat and walked into the farmyard.

Billy was hurt.

"Dreamin', be I? I'm a man as dreams blue murders, of coourse! Tu auld to be relied on now, I s'pose. Theer! Theer!" he changed his voice and it ran into a cracked scream of excitement. "Theer! P'r'aps I'm dreamin', as Inspector Chown an' Constable Lamacraft be walkin' in the gate this instant moment!"

But there was no mistaking this fact. Abraham Chown entered, marched solemnly to the party at the door, cried "Halt!" to his subordinate, then turned to Mr. Lyddon.

"Good-day to you, Miller," he said, "though 't is a bad day, I'm fearin'. I be here for Will Blanchard, _alias_ Tom Newcombe."

"If you mean my son-in-law, he 's not out of bed to my knawledge."

"Dear sawls! Doan't 'e say 't is blue murder--doan't 'e say that!" implored Mr. Blee. His head shook and his tongue revolved round his lips.

"Not as I knaws. We 'm actin' on instructions from the military to Plymouth."

"Theer 's allus wickedness hid under a alias notwithstanding," declared Billy, rather disappointed; "have 'e found Jan Grimbal?"

"They be searchin' for un. Jim Luke, Inspector to Moreton, an' his men be out beatin' the country. But I'm here, wi' my staff, for William Blanchard. March!"

Lamacraft, thus addressed, proceeded a pace or two until stopped by Mr. Lyddon.

"No call to go in. He'll come down. But I'm sore puzzled to knaw what this means, for awnly last night I heard tell from Jan Grimbal's awn lips that he'd chaanged his mind about a private matter bearin' on this."

"I want the man, anyways, an' I be gwaine to have un," declared Inspector Chown. He brought a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and gave them to the constable.

"Put up them gashly things, Abraham Chown," said the miller sternly. "Doan't 'e knaw Blanchard better 'n that?"

"Handcuffed he'll be, whether he likes it or not," answered the other; "an' if theer's trouble, I bid all present an' any able-bodied men 'pon the premises to help me take him in the Queen's name."

Billy hobbled round the corner, thrust two fingers into his mouth, and blew a quavering whistle; whereupon two labourers, working a few hundred yards off, immediately dropped their tools and joined him.

"Run you here," he cried. "P'lice be corned to taake Will Blanchard, an' us must all give the Law a hand, for theer'll be blows struck if I knaw un."

"Will Blanchard! What have he done?"

"Been under a alias--that's the least of it, but--God, He knaws--it may rise to murder. 'T is our bounden duty to help Chown against un."

"Be danged if I do!" said one of the men.

"Nor me," declared the other. "Let Chown do his job hisself--an' get his jaw broke for his trouble."

But they followed Mr. Blee to where the miller still argued against Lamacraft's entrance.

"Why didn't they send soldiers for un? That's what he reckoned on," said Mr. Lyddon.

"'T is my job fust."

"I'm sorry you've come in this high spirit. You knaw the man and ought to taake his word he'd go quiet and my guarantee for it."

"I knaw my duty, an' doan't want no teachin' from you."

"You're a fule!" said Miller, in some anger. "An' 't will take more 'n you an' that moon-faced lout to put them things on the man, or I'm much mistaken."

He went indoors while the labourers laughed, and the younger constable blushed at the insult.

"How do 'e like that, Peter Lamacraft?" asked a labourer.

"No odds to me," answered the policeman, licking his hands nervously and looking at the door. "I ban't feared of nought said or done if I've got the Law behind me. An' you'm liable yourself if you doan't help."

"Caan't wait no more," declared Mr. Chown. "If he's in bed, us'll take un in bed. Come on, you!"

Thus ordered to proceed, Lamacraft set his face resolutely forward and was just entering the farm when Phoebe appeared. Her tears were dry, though her voice was unsteady and her eyelids red.

"Gude mornin', Mr. Chown," she said.

"Marnin', ma'am. Let us pass, if you please."

"Are you coming in? Why?"

"Us caan't bide no more, an' us caan't give no more reasons. The Law ban't 'spected to give reasons for its deeds, an' us won't be bamboozled an' put off a minute longer," answered Chown grimly. "March, I tell 'e, Peter Lamacraft."

"You caan't see my husband."

"But we'm gwaine to see un. He've got to see me, an' come along wi' me, tu. An' if he's wise, he'll come quiet an' keep his mouth shut. That much I'll tell un for his gude."

"If you'll listen, I might make you onderstand how 'tis you caan't see Will," said Phoebe quietly. "You must knaw he runned away an' went soldiering before he married me. Then he comed back for love of me wi'out axin' any man's leave."

"So much the worse, ma'am; he'm a desarter!"

"The dark wickedness!" gasped Mr. Blee; "an' him dumb as a newt 'bout it all these years an' years! The conscience of un!"

"Well, you needn't trouble any more," continued Phoebe to the policemen. "My husband be gwaine to take this matter into his awn hands now."

Inspector Chown laughed.

"That's gude, that is!--now he 'm blawn upon!"

"He 's gwaine to give himself up--he caan't do more," said Phoebe, turning to her father who now reappeared.

"Coourse he caan't do more. What more do 'e want?" the miller inquired.

"Him," answered Mr. Chown. "No more an' no less; an' everything said will be used against him."

"You glumpy auld Dowl!" growled a labouring man.

"All right, all right. You just wait, all of 'e! Wheer's the man? How much longer be I to bide his pleasure? March! Damn it all! be the Law a laughing-stock?" The Inspector was growing very hot and excited.

"He's gone," said Phoebe, as Mr. Lamacraft entered the farm, put one foot on the bottom step of the stairs, then turned for further orders. "He's gone, before light. He rested two hours or so, then us harnessed the trap an' he drove away to Moreton to take fust train to Plymouth by way o' Newton Abbot. An' he said as Ted Chown was to go in arter breakfast an' drive the trap home."

"Couldn't tell me nothin' as had pleased me better," said the miller. "'T is a weight off me--an' off him I reckon. Now you 'm answered, my son; you can telegraph back as you corned wi' your auld handcuffs tu late by hours, an' that the man's on his way to give hisself up."

"I've only got your word for it."

"An' what better word should 'e have?" piped Billy, who in the space of half a minute had ranged himself alongside his master. "You to question the word o' Miller Lyddon, you crooked-hearted raven! Who was it spoke for 'e fifteen year ago an' got 'em to make 'e p'liceman 'cause you was tu big a fule to larn any other trade? Gert, thankless twoad! An' who was it let 'em keep the 'Green Man' awpen two nights in wan week arter closin' time, 'cause he wanted another drop hisself?"

"Come you away," said the Inspector to his constable. "Ban't for the likes of we to have any talk wi' the likes o' they. But they'll hear more of this; an' if theer's been any hookem-snivey dealin's with the Law, they'll live to be sorry. An' you follow me likewise," he added to his son, who stood hard by. "You come wi' me, Ted, for you doan't do no more work for runaway soldiers, nor yet bald-headed auld antics like this here!"

He pointed to Mr. Blee, then turned to depart.

"Get off honest man's land, you black-bearded beast!" screamed Billy. "You 'm most like of any wan ever I heard tell of to do murder yourself; an' auld as I be, I'd crawl on my hands an' knees to see you scragged for 't, if 't was so far as the sun in heaven!"

"That's libel," answered Mr. Chown, with cold and haughty authority; "an' you've put yourself in the grip of the Law by sayin' it, as you'll knaw before you 'm much aulder."

Then, with this trifling advantage, he retreated, while Lamacraft and Ted brought up the rear.

"So theer's an end of that. Now us'll fall to wi' no worse appetites," declared Miller. "An' as to Will," he added, "'fore you chaps go, just mind an' judge no man till you knaw what's proved against him. Onless theer's worse behind than I've larned so far, I'm gwaine to stand by un."

"An' me, tu!" said Mr. Blee, with a fine disregard for his recent utterances. "I've teached the chap purty nigh all he knaws an' I ban't gwaine to turn on un now, onless 't is proved blue murder. An' that Chown 's a disgrace to his cloth; an' I'd pull his ugly bat's ears on my awn behalf if I was a younger an' spryer man."