XI. OUR PEOPLE ARE AFFECTED BY THE PRESENCE OF ROYALTY
To explain the miller's sudden proposal it is only necessary to go
back to that moment when Anne, Festus, and Mrs. Garland were talking
together on the down. John Loveday had fallen behind so as not to
interfere with a meeting in which he was decidedly superfluous; and
his father, who guessed the trumpet-major's secret, watched his face
as he stood. John's face was sad, and his eyes followed Mrs.
Garland's encouraging manner to Festus in a way which plainly said
that every parting of her lips was tribulation to him. The miller
loved his son as much as any miller or private gentleman could do,
and he was pained to see John's gloom at such a trivial
circumstance. So what did he resolve but to help John there and
then by precipitating a matter which, had he himself been the only
person concerned, he would have delayed for another six months.
He had long liked the society of his impulsive, tractable neighbour,
Mrs. Garland; had mentally taken her up and pondered her in
connexion with the question whether it would not be for the
happiness of both if she were to share his home, even though she was
a little his superior in antecedents and knowledge. In fact he
loved her; not tragically, but to a very creditable extent for his
years; that is, next to his sons, Bob and John, though he knew very
well of that ploughed-ground appearance near the corners of her once
handsome eyes, and that the little depression in her right cheek was
not the lingering dimple it was poetically assumed to be, but a
result of the abstraction of some worn-out nether millstones within
the cheek by Rootle, the Budmouth man, who lived by such practices
on the heads of the elderly. But what of that, when he had lost two
to each one of hers, and exceeded her in age by some eight years!
To do John a service, then, he quickened his designs, and put the
question to her while they were standing under the eyes of the
younger pair.
Mrs. Garland, though she had been interested in the miller for a
long time, and had for a moment now and then thought on this
question as far as, 'Suppose he should, 'If he were to,' and so on,
had never thought much further; and she was really taken by surprise
when the question came. She answered without affectation that she
would think over the proposal; and thus they parted.
Her mother's infirmity of purpose set Anne thinking, and she was
suddenly filled with a conviction that in such a case she ought to
have some purpose herself. Mrs. Garland's complacency at the
miller's offer had, in truth, amazed her. While her mother had held
up her head, and recommended Festus, it had seemed a very pretty
thing to rebel; but the pressure being removed an awful sense of her
own responsibility took possession of her mind. As there was no
longer anybody to be wise or ambitious for her, surely she should be
wise and ambitious for herself, discountenance her mother's
attachment, and encourage Festus in his addresses, for her own and
her mother's good. There had been a time when a Loveday thrilled
her own heart; but that was long ago, before she had thought of
position or differences. To wake into cold daylight like this, when
and because her mother had gone into the land of romance, was
dreadful and new to her, and like an increase of years without
living them.
But it was easier to think that she ought to marry the yeoman than
to take steps for doing it; and she went on living just as before,
only with a little more thoughtfulness in her eyes.
Two days after the visit to the camp, when she was again in the
garden, Soldier Loveday said to her, at a distance of five rows of
beans and a parsley-bed--
'You have heard the news, Miss Garland?'
'No,' said Anne, without looking up from a book she was reading.
'The King is coming to-morrow.'
'The King?' She looked up then.
'Yes; to Gloucester Lodge; and he will pass this way. He can't
arrive till long past the middle of the night, if what they say is
true, that he is timed to change horses at Woodyates Inn--between
Mid and South Wessex--at twelve o'clock,' continued Loveday,
encouraged by her interest to cut off the parsley-bed from the
distance between them.
Miller Loveday came round the corner of the house.
'Have ye heard about the King coming, Miss Maidy Anne?' he said.
Anne said that she had just heard of it; and the trumpet-major, who
hardly welcomed his father at such a moment, explained what he knew
of the matter.
'And you will go with your regiment to meet 'en, I suppose?' said
old Loveday.
Young Loveday said that the men of the German Legion were to perform
that duty. And turning half from his father, and half towards Anne,
he added, in a tentative tone, that he thought he might get leave
for the night, if anybody would like to be taken to the top of the
Ridgeway over which the royal party must pass.
Anne, knowing by this time of the budding hope in the gallant
dragoon's mind, and not wishing to encourage it, said, 'I don't want
to go.'
The miller looked disappointed as well as John.
'Your mother might like to?'
'Yes, I am going indoors, and I'll ask her if you wish me to,' said
she.
She went indoors and rather coldly told her mother of the proposal.
Mrs. Garland, though she had determined not to answer the miller's
question on matrimony just yet, was quite ready for this jaunt, and
in spite of Anne she sailed off at once to the garden to hear more
about it. When she re-entered, she said--
'Anne, I have not seen the King or the King's horses for these many
years; and I am going.'
'Ah, it is well to be you, mother,' said Anne, in an elderly tone.
'Then you won't come with us?' said Mrs. Garland, rather rebuffed.
'I have very different things to think of,' said her daughter with
virtuous emphasis, 'than going to see sights at that time of night.'
Mrs. Garland was sorry, but resolved to adhere to the arrangement.
The night came on; and it having gone abroad that the King would
pass by the road, many of the villagers went out to see the
procession. When the two Lovedays and Mrs. Garland were gone, Anne
bolted the door for security, and sat down to think again on her
grave responsibilities in the choice of a husband, now that her
natural guardian could no longer be trusted.
A knock came to the door.
Anne's instinct was at once to be silent, that the comer might think
the family had retired.
The knocking person, however, was not to be easily persuaded. He
had in fact seen rays of light over the top of the shutter, and,
unable to get an answer, went on to the door of the mill, which was
still going, the miller sometimes grinding all night when busy. The
grinder accompanied the stranger to Mrs. Garland's door.
'The daughter is certainly at home, sir,' said the grinder. 'I'll
go round to t'other side, and see if she's there, Master Derriman.'
'I want to take her out to see the King,' said Festus.
Anne had started at the sound of the voice. No opportunity could
have been better for carrying out her new convictions on the
disposal of her hand. But in her mortal dislike of Festus, Anne
forgot her principles, and her idea of keeping herself above the
Lovedays. Tossing on her hat and blowing out the candle, she
slipped out at the back door, and hastily followed in the direction
that her mother and the rest had taken. She overtook them as they
were beginning to climb the hill.
'What! you have altered your mind after all?' said the widow. 'How
came you to do that, my dear?'
'I thought I might as well come,' said Anne.
'To be sure you did,' said the miller heartily. 'A good deal better
than biding at home there.'
John said nothing, though she could almost see through the gloom how
glad he was that she had altered her mind. When they reached the
ridge over which the highway stretched they found many of their
neighbours who had got there before them idling on the grass border
between the roadway and the hedge, enjoying a sort of midnight
picnic, which it was easy to do, the air being still and dry. Some
carriages were also standing near, though most people of the
district who possessed four wheels, or even two, had driven into the
town to await the King there. From this height could be seen in the
distance the position of the watering-place, an additional number of
lanterns, lamps, and candles having been lighted to-night by the
loyal burghers to grace the royal entry, if it should occur before
dawn.
Mrs. Garland touched Anne's elbow several times as they walked, and
the young woman at last understood that this was meant as a hint to
her to take the trumpet-major's arm, which its owner was rather
suggesting than offering to her. Anne wondered what infatuation was
possessing her mother, declined to take the arm, and contrived to
get in front with the miller, who mostly kept in the van to guide
the others' footsteps. The trumpet-major was left with Mrs.
Garland, and Anne's encouraging pursuit of them induced him to say a
few words to the former.
'By your leave, ma'am, I'll speak to you on something that concerns
my mind very much indeed?'
'Certainly.'
'It is my wish to be allowed to pay my addresses to your daughter.'
'I thought you meant that,' said Mrs. Garland simply.
'And you'll not object?'
'I shall leave it to her. I don't think she will agree, even if I
do.'
The soldier sighed, and seemed helpless. 'Well, I can but ask her,'
he said.
The spot on which they had finally chosen to wait for the King was
by a field gate, whence the white road could be seen for a long
distance northwards by day, and some little distance now. They
lingered and lingered, but no King came to break the silence of that
beautiful summer night. As half-hour after half-hour glided by, and
nobody came, Anne began to get weary; she knew why her mother did
not propose to go back, and regretted the reason. She would have
proposed it herself, but that Mrs. Garland seemed so cheerful, and
as wide awake as at noonday, so that it was almost a cruelty to
disturb her.
The trumpet-major at last made up his mind, and tried to draw Anne
into a private conversation. The feeling which a week ago had been
a vague and piquant aspiration, was to-day altogether too lively for
the reasoning of this warm-hearted soldier to regulate. So he
persevered in his intention to catch her alone, and at last, in
spite of her manoeuvres to the contrary, he succeeded. The miller
and Mrs. Garland had walked about fifty yards further on, and Anne
and himself were left standing by the gate.
But the gallant musician's soul was so much disturbed by tender
vibrations and by the sense of his presumption that he could not
begin; and it may be questioned if he would ever have broached the
subject at all, had not a distant church clock opportunely assisted
him by striking the hour of three. The trumpet-major heaved a
breath of relief.
'That clock strikes in G sharp,' he said.
'Indeed--G sharp?' said Anne civilly.
'Yes. 'Tis a fine-toned bell. I used to notice that note when I
was a boy.'
'Did you--the very same?'
'Yes; and since then I had a wager about that bell with the
bandmaster of the North Wessex Militia. He said the note was G; I
said it wasn't. When we found it G sharp we didn't know how to
settle it.'
'It is not a deep note for a clock.'
'O no! The finest tenor bell about here is the bell of Peter's,
Casterbridge--in E flat. Tum-m-m-m--that's the note--tum-m-m-m.'
The trumpet-major sounded from far down his throat what he
considered to be E flat, with a parenthetic sense of luxury
unquenchable even by his present distraction.
'Shall we go on to where my mother is?' said Anne, less impressed by
the beauty of the note than the trumpet-major himself was.
'In one minute,' he said tremulously. 'Talking of music--I fear you
don't think the rank of a trumpet-major much to compare with your
own?'
'I do. I think a trumpet-major a very respectable man.'
'I am glad to hear you say that. It is given out by the King's
command that trumpet-majors are to be considered respectable.'
'Indeed! Then I am, by chance, more loyal than I thought for.'
'I get a good deal a year extra to the trumpeters, because of my
position.'
'That's very nice.'
'And I am not supposed ever to drink with the trumpeters who serve
beneath me.'
'Naturally.'
'And, by the orders of the War Office, I am to exert over them
(that's the government word) exert over them full authority; and if
any one behaves towards me with the least impropriety, or neglects
my orders, he is to be confined and reported.'
'It is really a dignified post,' she said, with, however, a reserve
of enthusiasm which was not altogether encouraging.
'And of course some day I shall,' stammered the dragoon--'shall be
in rather a better position than I am at present.'
'I am glad to hear it, Mr. Loveday.'
'And in short, Mistress Anne,' continued John Loveday bravely and
desperately, 'may I pay court to you in the hope that--no, no, don't
go away!--you haven't heard yet--that you may make me the happiest
of men; not yet, but when peace is proclaimed and all is smooth and
easy again? I can't put it any better, though there's more to be
explained.'
'This is most awkward,' said Anne, evidently with pain. 'I cannot
possibly agree; believe me, Mr. Loveday, I cannot.'
'But there's more than this. You would be surprised to see what
snug rooms the married trumpet- and sergeant-majors have in
quarters.'
'Barracks are not all; consider camp and war.'
'That brings me to my strong point!' exclaimed the soldier
hopefully. 'My father is better off than most non-commissioned
officers' fathers; and there's always a home for you at his house in
any emergency. I can tell you privately that he has enough to keep
us both, and if you wouldn't hear of barracks, well, peace once
established, I'd live at home as a miller and farmer--next door to
your own mother.'
'My mother would be sure to object,' expostulated Anne.
'No; she leaves it all to you.'
'What! you have asked her?' said Anne, with surprise.
'Yes. I thought it would not be honourable to act otherwise.'
'That's very good of you,' said Anne, her face warming with a
generous sense of his straightforwardness. 'But my mother is so
entirely ignorant of a soldier's life, and the life of a soldier's
wife--she is so simple in all such matters, that I cannot listen to
you any more readily for what she may say.'
'Then it is all over for me,' said the poor trumpet-major, wiping
his face and putting away his handkerchief with an air of finality.
Anne was silent. Any woman who has ever tried will know without
explanation what an unpalatable task it is to dismiss, even when she
does not love him, a man who has all the natural and moral qualities
she would desire, and only fails in the social. Would-be lovers are
not so numerous, even with the best women, that the sacrifice of one
can be felt as other than a good thing wasted, in a world where
there are few good things.
'You are not angry, Miss Garland?' said he, finding that she did not
speak.
'O no. Don't let us say anything more about this now.' And she
moved on.
When she drew near to the miller and her mother she perceived that
they were engaged in a conversation of that peculiar kind which is
all the more full and communicative from the fact of definitive
words being few. In short, here the game was succeeding which with
herself had failed. It was pretty clear from the symptoms, marks,
tokens, telegraphs, and general byplay between widower and widow,
that Miller Loveday must have again said to Mrs. Garland some such
thing as he had said before, with what result this time she did not
know.
As the situation was delicate, Anne halted awhile apart from them.
The trumpet-major, quite ignorant of how his cause was entered into
by the white-coated man in the distance (for his father had not yet
told him of his designs upon Mrs. Garland), did not advance, but
stood still by the gate, as though he were attending a princess,
waiting till he should be called up. Thus they lingered, and the
day began to break. Mrs. Garland and the miller took no heed of the
time, and what it was bringing to earth and sky, so occupied were
they with themselves; but Anne in her place and the trumpet-major in
his, each in private thought of no bright kind, watched the gradual
glory of the east through all its tones and changes. The world of
birds and insects got lively, the blue and the yellow and the gold
of Loveday's uniform again became distinct; the sun bored its way
upward, the fields, the trees, and the distant landscape kindled to
flame, and the trumpet-major, backed by a lilac shadow as tall as a
steeple, blazed in the rays like a very god of war.
It was half-past three o'clock. A short time after, a rattle of
horses and wheels reached their ears from the quarter in which they
gazed, and there appeared upon the white line of road a moving mass,
which presently ascended the hill and drew near.
Then there arose a huzza from the few knots of watchers gathered
there, and they cried, 'Long live King Jarge!' The cortege passed
abreast. It consisted of three travelling-carriages, escorted by a
detachment of the German Legion. Anne was told to look in the first
carriage--a post-chariot drawn by four horses--for the King and
Queen, and was rewarded by seeing a profile reminding her of the
current coin of the realm; but as the party had been travelling all
night, and the spectators here gathered were few, none of the royal
family looked out of the carriage windows. It was said that the two
elder princesses were in the same carriage, but they remained
invisible. The next vehicle, a coach and four, contained more
princesses, and the third some of their attendants.
'Thank God, I have seen my King!' said Mrs. Garland, when they had
all gone by.
Nobody else expressed any thankfulness, for most of them had
expected a more pompous procession than the bucolic tastes of the
King cared to indulge in; and one old man said grimly that that
sight of dusty old leather coaches was not worth waiting for. Anne
looked hither and thither in the bright rays of the day, each of her
eyes having a little sun in it, which gave her glance a peculiar
golden fire, and kindled the brown curls grouped over her forehead
to a yellow brilliancy, and made single hairs, blown astray by the
night, look like lacquered wires. She was wondering if Festus were
anywhere near, but she could not see him.
Before they left the ridge they turned their attention towards the
Royal watering-place, which was visible at this place only as a
portion of the sea-shore, from which the night-mist was rolling
slowly back. The sea beyond was still wrapped in summer fog, the
ships in the roads showing through it as black spiders suspended in
the air. While they looked and walked a white jet of smoke burst
from a spot which the miller knew to be the battery in front of the
King's residence, and then the report of guns reached their ears.
This announcement was answered by a salute from the Castle of the
adjoining Isle, and the ships in the neighbouring anchorage. All
the bells in the town began ringing. The King and his family had
arrived.
