CHAPTER XV

A REASON FOR EVERYTHING

Walter Bramber sprang from his seat beside Pasco, on the latter drawing up outside the inn at Ashburton, and ran to the back of the tax-cart that he might assist Kate to descend. There was no step at the back. He held up his arms to receive her; she was standing preparing to spring.

As he looked up, he exclaimed, “They are planets!”

“What are planets?”

“Those blue orbs--their light is so still and true.”

Then he caught her as she sprang, glad to cover her confusion. A compliment was something to which Kate was wholly unaccustomed, and one startled and shamed her.

“Now, whither?” he asked.

“To my father.”

“But where is he?”

“I do not know.”

“Come, come!” said Pepperill, who had consigned the reins to the ostler. “I want you, schoolmaster; I cannot let you go fairing yet. I have business on my hands and desire your presence. Afterwards, if you will, and when we have got rid of Kate, I’ll find you some one more agreeable with whom you can go and see the shows.”

“But, in the meanwhile, who is to take care of her?” asked Bramber.

“I will do that,” said John Pooke, who came up, elbowing his way through the crowd. “Here are several of us Coombe-in-Teignhead folk: there is sister Sue, but she is off with her sweetheart; and here is Rose Ash, and here is Noah Flood.”

There was no help for it; much to his disappointment. Bramber had to relinquish Kate, and accompany her uncle into the market.

Kate hesitated about going with John Pooke, but knew not what else to do. Her uncle shook her off, concerned himself no more about her, and carried the schoolmaster with him. Alone she was afraid to remain. A shy girl, unwont to be in a crowd; the noise of the fair, the shouts of chapmen, the objurgations of drovers sending their cattle through the thronged street, the braying of horns and beating of drums outside the shows, the hum of many voices, the incessant shifting of groups, combined to bewilder and alarm her. But she did not like to attach herself to Jan Pooke’s party. Tongues had already been set a-wagging relative to herself and the young man. The adventure in the boat, followed up by his solicitude during her illness, had attracted attention in the village, and had become a topic of conversation and speculation.

Rose Ash, as was well known, had set her mind on winning John; she was a handsome girl, of suitable age and position, the miller’s daughter. Everyone had said that they would make a pair. Jan, in his amiable, easy-going way, had offered no resistance; he had, perhaps, been a little proud of being considered the lover of the prettiest girl in the district; he had made no advances himself, but had submitted to hers with mild complacency, taking care not to compromise himself irrevocably.

Since John had been associated with Kate in that adventure on the mud-bank, he had been less cordial to Rose, had kept out of her way, and avoided being left alone with her. Rose was ready-witted enough to see that a spoke had been put into her wheel, and to discover how that spoke had been inserted. She felt jealous of, and resentful towards Kate, and lost no occasion of hinting ill-natured things, and throwing out wounding remarks both to Kate’s face and behind her back. Kate had every reason to shrink from joining this party, sure that it would lead to vexation. But she had no choice.

“Come along, Kate,” said John; “sister Sue and I and the rest are ready. What do you wish?”

“I think I might be consulted,” said Rose sullenly.

“I know your wishes already--you want to go into the fair,” replied Jan, turning to the pouting girl.

“And if she wishes to be out of it,--in the mud, for instance,--are we all to be dragged in with her?” asked Rose.

“Tell me, Kitty, what do you desire?”

“I would like to find my father.”

“Where is he? do you know? We will go through the fair and look for him.”

Kate held back. John came after her and said, “If we cannot find your father at once, where would you like to go?”

Half laughing and half crying, the girl answered, “I should like to be at the bottom of a well; Mr. Bramber says that there one could see the stars, even in broad daylight.”

“By all means, put her there and leave her there; we are well content,” said Rose, who had followed and overheard what was said.

“There is no well in Ashburton,” said Jan, taking Kate’s arm. “There are better things to be seen than stars by daylight. Come, we will seek your father. I will be sworn we shall light on him.”

Kate withdrew from the young man’s hold, but nevertheless allowed herself to accompany the little party that now moved in the direction of the fair. The girl was unaccustomed to be in a crowd. Neither her father nor her uncle had concerned himself to give her diversion, to take her out of the monotony and solitude of her life in Coombe Cellars. A country fair presented to her all the attractions of novelty, at the same time that the noise and movement alarmed her. Susan Pooke’s intended husband had hooked her on to his arm, and the two, sufficient to each other, separated from the rest and took their own way among the booths. Kate was therefore left with Rose, John Pooke, and Noah Flood.

Noah was an acquaintance rather than a friend of John, and a cousin of Rose. Jan did not discourage him. Noah was one of Rose’s many admirers; a hopeless one hitherto, as he felt his inability to compete with Pooke. Now, Jan was glad of his presence as likely to relieve him of Rose; and that girl was also content to have him by, hoping that by showing him some favour she might rouse the jealousy of the torpid Jan. The little company, in which prevailed such discordant elements, moved along the street to the market-place. Every neighbouring parish had sent in a contingent of farmers to buy and sell, of young folks to gape and amuse themselves, of servants who sought masters and mistresses, of employers in quest of servants. All elbowed, pushed their way along, met friends, laughed, shouted, made merry. Presently Jan arrested his party at a stall on which numerous articles attractive to the female heart were exposed for sale.

“Now, Kate,” said he, “I have long owed you something, and a fairing you expect as your due.”

“It is I who have a right to it,” said Rose hastily. “You brought me to the fair. That is fine manners for a lad to bring a girl, desert her, and give his fairing to another.”

“I am going to make presents to both of you,” replied Jan, colouring. “I invited Kitty before I asked you.”

“Oh, indeed?” Rose flared up. “I am to come second-best after that frog, unfortunately, against her wishes, not now in a well. I refuse your presents. I will take what Noah will give me.”

“Do not be angry, Rose,” said Jan. “Kitty, you see, has no one with her. Her uncle and that schoolmaster fellow have deserted her. As for a fairing--I owe it her. It was all along of me that”--

“I know,” scoffed Rose. “She ran you on a mud-bank. It was done on purpose. A designing hussy.”

“For shame!” said Jan.

“No respectable girl would have done it I know what folks say”--

Jan boiled up. “You are a spiteful cat, Rose. I will not give you anything. Kate, what would you like to have? Choose anything on this stall; it is yours.”

“I do not wish for anything,” answered the girl timidly. Yet her eyes had ranged longingly among the treasures exposed.

“You shall have some present from me,” persisted Pooke. “Here, a dark blue silk handkerchief--the colour of your eyes.”

“I am going to have that,” exclaimed Rose. “Noah was about to take it up when you spoke. It is mine.”

“There are two, I’ll be bound,” said Jan.

“No, there are not. Get her a yellow one--the blue is mine.” Rose snatched at it.

There actually was no second of the same colour.

“Yellow becomes you best,” said Jan angrily; “you are so jealous and spiteful.”

“Jealous? of whom?”

“Of Kate.”

“I!--I!” jeered the handsome, spoiled girl, with an outburst of laughter. “I jealous of that creature. Cockles and winkles picked off a mud-bank!”

“Give up that handkerchief,” exclaimed Jan passionately.

“I really will not have it. I assure you I will not. Take it,” pleaded Kate, “I have no right to accept any present.”

“Nonsense,” said Pooke. “I invited you to the fair, and here you are with me. I must and I will give you something by which to remember me.”

He stepped back and pushed his way through the crowd to another stall. Kate remained where she was with fluttering heart, averting her burning face from the eyes of Rose, and looking eagerly among the throng for her uncle or father.

Presently Jan returned.

“There,” said he, “now I have something more worthy of you: a really good and handsome workbox.”

He held out a polished box with mother-of-pearl shield on the lid, and scutcheon for the keyhole.

“Look at it!” he said, and, raising the lid, displayed blue silk lined and padded compartments, stocked with thimble, scissors, reels, pins, needles, bodkin, and a tray. “Look!” exclaimed Jan, his cheeks glowing with mingled anger and pleasure; “underneath a place where you can put letters--anything; and you can lock the whole up. There, it is yours.”

Kate was shy about accepting so handsome a gift, yet could not refuse it. The workbox had been bought and paid for. It was the custom for a young man to give a damsel a present at the fair, but then, to do so was tantamount to declaring that he had chosen her as his sweetheart. With thanks, more in her eyes than on her lips, Kate accepted the offering, and took it under her arm. Rose had turned away her head with a toss of the chin, and had pretended not to have seen the transaction.

“Let us move on,” urged Pooke; “there is a shooting-place beyond, and, by George! I’ll have a try for nuts and fill your pockets, Kate.”

Noah and Rose had already drifted from the booth at which the altercation had taken place. The girl had knotted the blue silk kerchief about her throat in defiance; her cheeks were flaming, her eyes glistening, and her mouth quivering. She pretended to be devoted to Noah, who was vastly elated, but her eyes ever and anon stealthily returned to Jan and Kate.

A large tray full of hazel nuts stood before a battered target, and on the nuts lay a couple of guns.

“Now then! a penny a shot! only one penny!” yelled the proprietor; and his wife dipped a tin half-pint measure into the nuts, shook it, poured them out and echoed, “Only one penny. Half a pint in the red, a pint in the gold! Only one penny. A dozen nuts for the white. Only one penny.”

“I’ll have a shy,” said Noah, laid down his coin and fired. He struck the white, and received a dozen nuts.

“I’ll do better than that!” shouted Jan, and took the gun from Flood’s hand, threw down threepence, and said, “I’ll have three shots and stuff my pockets.” He fired--and missed.

“By George!” Jan looked astonished. “I always considered myself a crack shot.”

He fired again and hit the black. The woman offered him half a dozen nuts.

“I won’t have ’em--I’ll clear the stall presently.”

He aimed carefully and missed again.

Then Kate touched him on the arm and said, “Do you not see all your shots have gone one way--to the right, low down. Aim at the right-hand corner to the left, just outside the black.”

“You try,” said Jan, and threw down a penny with one hand and passed the gun to Kate with the other.

The girl aimed, and put her arrow into the bull’s-eye.

She handed back the gun, saying to Pooke, “The barrel is crooked, that is why your shot went wrong.”

“Try again, Kitty.”

She shook her head.

“Well,” said Jan, “I’ll follow your directions.”

He fired, and his shot flew into space beyond the target. “There!” he exclaimed reproachfully, turning to the girl.

“The woman changed the gun,” said Kate. “Now aim at the centre, and I will soon tell you what is wrong.”

He did as she directed, and his shot went into the outer green.

“I see,” said Kate; “this barrel is given a twist in another way. Now look where your arrow strikes. Draw a line from that across the gold, and aim at the point in the outer ring exactly opposite.” The young man did as instructed, and hit the red.

“Kitty Alone, I have it now!” laughed he; threw down another copper, and this time his shot quivered in the bull’s-eye.

“Why, Kate! however did you discover the secret?” he asked in amazement.

“I watched. I knew you aimed straight, so I was sure the fault lay in the barrel. There is, you know, a reason for everything.”

“Lor’, Kitty! I should never have found out that.”

“I saw it because you went wrong. I considered why you went wrong, and so considering, I saw that the fault must be in the barrel. There is a reason for everything, even for our blunders, and if we seek out the reason where we have blundered, we go right afterwards and blunder no more.”