Odd Craft, Complete Read online

  Venia Turnbull in a quiet, unobtrusive fashion was enjoying herself. Thecool living-room at Turnbull's farm was a delightful contrast to the hotsunshine without, and the drowsy humming of bees floating in at the openwindow was charged with hints of slumber to the middle-aged. From herseat by the window she watched with amused interest the efforts of herfather--kept from his Sunday afternoon nap by the assiduous attentionsof her two admirers--to maintain his politeness.

  "Father was so pleased to see you both come in," she said, softly; "it'svery dull for him here of an afternoon with only me."

  "I can't imagine anybody being dull with only you," said Sergeant DickDaly, turning a bold brown eye upon her.

  Mr. John Blundell scowled; this was the third time the sergeant had saidthe thing that he would have liked to say if he had thought of it.

  "I don't mind being dull," remarked Mr. Turnbull, casually.

  Neither gentleman made any comment.

  "I like it," pursued Mr. Turnbull, longingly; "always did, from achild."

  The two young men looked at each other; then they looked at Venia; thesergeant assumed an expression of careless ease, while John Blundell sathis chair like a human limpet. Mr. Turnbull almost groaned as heremembered his tenacity.

  "The garden's looking very nice," he said, with a pathetic glance round.

  "Beautiful," assented the sergeant. "I saw it yesterday."

  "Some o' the roses on that big bush have opened a bit more since then,"said the farmer.

  Sergeant Daly expressed his gratification, and said that he was notsurprised. It was only ten days since he had arrived in the village on avisit to a relative, but in that short space of time he had, to thegreat discomfort of Mr. Blundell, made himself wonderfully at home atMr. Turnbull's. To Venia he related strange adventures by sea and land,and on subjects of which he was sure the farmer knew nothing he was aperfect mine of information. He began to talk in low tones to Venia, andthe heart of Mr. Blundell sank within him as he noted her interest.Their voices fell to a gentle murmur, and the sergeant's sleek,well-brushed head bent closer to that of his listener. Relieved from hisattentions, Mr. Turnbull fell asleep without more ado.

  Blundell sat neglected, the unwilling witness of a flirtation he waspowerless to prevent. Considering her limited opportunities, MissTurnbull displayed a proficiency which astonished him. Even the sergeantwas amazed, and suspected her of long practice.

  "I wonder whether it is very hot outside?" she said, at last, rising andlooking out of the window.

  "Only pleasantly warm," said the sergeant. "It would be nice down by thewater."

  "I'm afraid of disturbing father by our talk," said the consideratedaughter. "You might tell him we've gone for a little stroll when hewakes," she added, turning to Blundell.

  Mr. Blundell, who had risen with the idea of acting the humble but, inhis opinion, highly necessary part of chaperon, sat down again andwatched blankly from the window until they were out of sight. He washalf inclined to think that the exigencies of the case warranted him inarousing the farmer at once.

  It was an hour later when the farmer awoke, to find himself alone withMr. Blundell, a state of affairs for which he strove with somepertinacity to make that aggrieved gentleman responsible.

  "Why didn't you go with them?" he demanded. "Because I wasn't asked,"replied the other.

  Mr. Turnbull sat up in his chair and eyed him disdainfully. "For agreat, big chap like you are, John Blundell," he exclaimed, "it'ssurprising what a little pluck you've got."

  "I don't want to go where I'm not wanted," retorted Mr. Blundell.

  "That's where you make a mistake," said the other, regarding himseverely; "girls like a masterful man, and, instead of getting your ownway, you sit down quietly and do as you're told, like a tame--tame--"

  "Tame what?" inquired Mr. Blundell, resentfully.

  "I don't know," said the other, frankly; "the tamest thing you can thinkof. There's Daly laughing in his sleeve at you, and talking to Veniaabout Waterloo and the Crimea as though he'd been there. I thought itwas pretty near settled between you."

  "So did I," said Mr. Blundell.

  "You're a big man, John," said the other, "but you're slow. You're allmuscle and no head."

  "I think of things afterward," said Blundell, humbly; "generally after Iget to bed."

  Mr. Turnbull sniffed, and took a turn up and down the room; then heclosed the door and came toward his friend again.

  "I dare say you're surprised at me being so anxious to get rid ofVenia," he said, slowly, "but the fact is I'm thinking of marrying againmyself."

  "You!" said the startled Mr. Blundell.

  "Yes, me," said the other, somewhat sharply. "But she won't marry solong as Venia is at home. It's a secret, because if Venia got to hear ofit she'd keep single to prevent it. She's just that sort of girl."

  Mr. Blundell coughed, but did not deny it. "Who is it?" he inquired.

  "Miss Sippet," was the reply. "She couldn't hold her own for half anhour against Venia."

  Mr. Blundell, a great stickler for accuracy, reduced the time to fiveminutes.

  "And now," said the aggrieved Mr. Turnbull, "now, so far as I can see,she's struck with Daly. If she has him it'll be years and years beforethey can marry. She seems crazy about heroes. She was talking to me theother night about them. Not to put too fine a point on it, she wastalking about you."

  Mr. Blundell blushed with pleased surprise.

  "Said you were not a hero," explained Mr. Turnbull. "Of course, I stuckup for you. I said you'd got too much sense to go putting your life intodanger. I said you were a very careful man, and I told her howparticular you was about damp sheets. Your housekeeper told me."

  "It's all nonsense," said Blundell, with a fiery face. "I'll send thatold fool packing if she can't keep her tongue quiet."

  "It's very sensible of you, John," said Mr. Turnbull, "and a sensiblegirl would appreciate it. Instead of that, she only sniffed when I toldher how careful you always were to wear flannel next to your skin. Shesaid she liked dare-devils."

  "I suppose she thinks Daly is a dare-devil," said the offended Mr.Blundell. "And I wish people wouldn't talk about me and my skin. Whycan't they mind their own business?"

  Mr. Turnbull eyed him indignantly, and then, sitting in a very uprightposition, slowly filled his pipe, and declining a proffered match roseand took one from the mantel-piece.

  "I was doing the best I could for you," he said, staring hard at theingrate. "I was trying to make Venia see what a careful husband youwould make. Miss Sippet herself is most particular about such things--and Venia seemed to think something of it, because she asked me whetheryou used a warming-pan."

  Mr. Blundell got up from his chair and, without going through theformality of bidding his host good-by, quitted the room and closed thedoor violently behind him. He was red with rage, and he brooded darklyas he made his way home on the folly of carrying on the traditions of adevoted mother without thinking for himself.

  For the next two or three days, to Venia's secret concern, he failed toput in an appearance at the farm--a fact which made flirtation with thesergeant a somewhat uninteresting business. Her sole recompense was thedismay of her father, and for his benefit she dwelt upon the advantagesof the Army in a manner that would have made the fortune of arecruiting-sergeant.

  "She's just crazy after the soldiers," he said to Mr. Blundell, whom hewas trying to spur on to a desperate effort. "I've been watching herclose, and I can see what it is now; she's romantic. You're too slow andordinary for her. She wants somebody more dazzling. She told Daly onlyyesterday afternoon that she loved heroes. Told it to him to his face. Isat there and heard her. It's a pity you ain't a hero, John."

  "Yes," said Mr. Blundell; "then, if I was, I expect she'd like somethingelse."

  The other shook his head. "If you could only do something daring," hemurmured; "half-kill some-body, or save somebody's life, and let her seeyou do it. Couldn't you dive off the quay and save some-body's lif
e fromdrowning?"

  "Yes, I could," said Blundell, "if somebody would only tumble in."

  "You might pretend that you thought you saw somebody drowning,"suggested Mr. Turnbull.

  "And be laughed at," said Mr. Blundell, who knew his Venia by heart.

  "You always seem to be able to think of objections," complained Mr.Turnbull; "I've noticed that in you before."

  "I'd go in fast enough if there was anybody there," said Blundell. "I'mnot much of a swimmer, but--"

  "All the better," interrupted the other; "that would make it all themore daring."

  "And I don't much care if I'm drowned," pursued the younger man,gloomily.

  Mr. Turnbull thrust his hands in his pockets and took a turn or two upand down the room. His brows were knitted and his lips pursed. In thepresence of this mental stress Mr. Blundell preserved a respectfulsilence.

  "We'll all four go for a walk on the quay on Sunday afternoon," said Mr.Turnbull, at last.

  "On the chance?" inquired his staring friend.

  "On the chance," assented the other; "it's just possible Daly might fallin."

  "He might if we walked up and down five million times," said Blundell,unpleasantly.

  "He might if we walked up and down three or four times," said Mr.Turnbull, "especially if you happened to stumble."

  "I never stumble," said the matter-of-fact Mr. Blundell. "I don't knowanybody more sure-footed than I am."

  "Or thick-headed," added the exasperated Mr. Turnbull.

  Mr. Blundell regarded him patiently; he had a strong suspicion that hisfriend had been drinking.

  "Stumbling," said Mr. Turnbull, conquering his annoyance with an effort"stumbling is a thing that might happen to anybody. You trip your footagainst a stone and lurch up against Daly; he tumbles overboard, and youoff with your jacket and dive in off the quay after him. He can't swim astroke."

  Mr. Blundell caught his breath and gazed at him in speechless amaze.

  "There's sure to be several people on the quay if it's a fineafternoon," continued his instructor. "You'll have half Dunchurch roundyou, praising you and patting you on the back--all in front of Venia,mind you. It'll be put in all the papers and you'll get a medal."

  "And suppose we are both drowned?" said Mr. Blundell, soberly.

  "Drowned? Fiddlesticks!" said Mr. Turnbull. "However, please yourself.If you're afraid----"

  "I'll do it," said Blundell, decidedly.

  "And mind," said the other, "don't do it as if it's as easy as kissingyour fingers; be half-drowned yourself, or at least pretend to be. Andwhen you're on the quay take your time about coming round. Be longerthan Daly is; you don't want him to get all the pity."

  "All right," said the other.

  "After a time you can open your eyes," went on his instructor; "then, ifI were you, I should say, 'Good-bye, Venia,' and close 'em again. Workit up affecting, and send messages to your aunts."

  "It sounds all right," said Blundell.

  "It is all right," said Mr. Turnbull. "That's just the bare idea I'vegiven you. It's for you to improve upon it. You've got two days to thinkabout it."

  Mr. Blundell thanked him, and for the next two days thought of littleelse. Being a careful man he made his will, and it was in acomparatively cheerful frame of mind that he made his way on Sundayafternoon to Mr. Turnbull's.

  The sergeant was already there conversing in low tones with Venia by thewindow, while Mr. Turnbull, sitting opposite in an oaken armchair,regarded him with an expression which would have shocked Iago.

  "We were just thinking of having a blow down by the water," he said, asBlundell entered.

  "What! a hot day like this?" said Venia.

  "I was just thinking how beautifully cool it is in here," said thesergeant, who was hoping for a repetition of the previous Sunday'sperformance.

  "It's cooler outside," said Mr. Turnbull, with a wilful ignoring offacts; "much cooler when you get used to it."

  He led the way with Blundell, and Venia and the sergeant, keeping asmuch as possible in the shade of the dust-powdered hedges, followed. Thesun was blazing in the sky, and scarce half-a-dozen people were to beseen on the little curved quay which constituted the usual Sundayafternoon promenade. The water, a dozen feet below, lapped cool andgreen against the stone sides.

  At the extreme end of the quay, underneath the lantern, they allstopped, ostensibly to admire a full-rigged ship sailing slowly by inthe distance, but really to effect the change of partners necessary tothe after-noon's business. The change gave Mr. Turnbull some trouble ereit was effected, but he was successful at last, and, walking behind thetwo young men, waited somewhat nervously for developments.

  Twice they paraded the length of the quay and nothing happened. The shipwas still visible, and, the sergeant halting to gaze at it, the companylost their formation, and he led the complaisant Venia off from beneathher father's very nose.

  "You're a pretty manager, you are, John Blundell," said the incensed Mr.Turnbull.

  "I know what I'm about," said Blundell, slowly.

  "Well, why don't you do it?" demanded the other. "I suppose you aregoing to wait until there are more people about, and then perhaps someof them will see you push him over."

  "It isn't that," said Blundell, slowly, "but you told me to improve onyour plan, you know, and I've been thinking out improvements."

  "Well?" said the other.

  "It doesn't seem much good saving Daly," said Blundell; "that's whatI've been thinking. He would be in as much danger as I should, and he'dget as much sympathy; perhaps more."

  "Do you mean to tell me that you are backing out of it?" demanded Mr.Turnbull.

  "No," said Blundell, slowly, "but it would be much better if I savedsomebody else. I don't want Daly to be pitied."

  "Bah! you are backing out of it," said the irritated Mr. Turnbull."You're afraid of a little cold water."

  "No, I'm not," said Blundell; "but it would be better in every way tosave somebody else. She'll see Daly standing there doing nothing, whileI am struggling for my life. I've thought it all out very carefully. Iknow I'm not quick, but I'm sure, and when I make up my mind to do athing, I do it. You ought to know that."

  "That's all very well," said the other; "but who else is there to pushin?"

  "That's all right," said Blundell, vaguely. "Don't you worry about that;I shall find somebody."

  Mr. Turnbull turned and cast a speculative eye along the quay. As arule, he had great confidence in Blundell's determination, but on thisoccasion he had his doubts.

  "Well, it's a riddle to me," he said, slowly. "I give it up. It seems--Halloa! Good heavens, be careful. You nearly had me in then."

  "Did I?" said Blundell, thickly. "I'm very sorry."

  Mr. Turnbull, angry at such carelessness, accepted the apology in agrudging spirit and trudged along in silence. Then he started nervouslyas a monstrous and unworthy suspicion occurred to him. It was anincredible thing to suppose, but at the same time he felt that there wasnothing like being on the safe side, and in tones not quite free fromsignificance he intimated his desire of changing places with his awkwardfriend.

  "It's all right," said Blundell, soothingly.

  "I know it is," said Mr. Turnbull, regarding him fixedly; "but I preferthis side. You very near had me over just now."

  "I staggered," said Mr. Blundell.

  "Another inch and I should have been overboard," said Mr. Turnbull, witha shudder. "That would have been a nice how d'ye do."

  Mr. Blundell coughed and looked seaward. "Accidents will happen," hemurmured.

  They reached the end of the quay again and stood talking, and when theyturned once more the sergeant was surprised and gratified at the easewith which he bore off Venia. Mr. Turnbull and Blundell followed somelittle way behind, and the former gentleman's suspicions were somewhatlulled by finding that his friend made no attempt to take the insideplace. He looked about him with interest for a likely victim, but invain.

  "What are you looking at?" he de
manded, impatiently, as Blundellsuddenly came to a stop and gazed curiously into the harbour.

  "Jelly-fish," said the other, briefly. "I never saw such a monster. Itmust be a yard across."

  Mr. Turnbull stopped, but could see nothing, and even when Blundellpointed it out with his finger he had no better success. He steppedforward a pace, and his suspicions returned with renewed vigour as ahand was laid caressingly on his shoulder. The next moment, with a wildshriek, he shot suddenly over the edge and disappeared. Venia and thesergeant, turning hastily, were just in time to see the fountain whichensued on his immersion.

  "Oh, save him!" cried Venia.

  The sergeant ran to the edge and gazed in helpless dismay as Mr.Turnbull came to the surface and disappeared again. At the same momentBlundell, who had thrown off his coat, dived into the harbour and,rising rapidly to the surface, caught the fast-choking Mr. Turnbull bythe collar.

  "Keep still," he cried, sharply, as the farmer tried to clutch him;"keep still or I'll let you go."

  "Help!" choked the farmer, gazing up at the little knot of people whichhad collected on the quay.

  A stout fisherman who had not run for thirty years came along the edgeof the quay at a shambling trot, with a coil of rope over his arm. JohnBlundell saw him and, mindful of the farmer's warning about kissing offingers, etc., raised his disengaged arm and took that frenziedgentleman below the surface again. By the time they came up he was veryglad for his own sake to catch the line skilfully thrown by the oldfisherman and be drawn gently to the side.

  "I'll tow you to the steps," said the fisherman; "don't let go o' theline."

  Mr. Turnbull saw to that; he wound the rope round his wrist and began toregain his presence of mind as they were drawn steadily toward thesteps. Willing hands drew them out of the water and helped them up on tothe quay, where Mr. Turnbull, sitting in his own puddle, coughed up saltwater and glared ferociously at the inanimate form of Mr. Blundell.Sergeant Daly and another man were rendering what they piously believedto be first aid to the apparently drowned, while the stout fisherman,with both hands to his mouth, was yelling in heart-rending accents for abarrel.

  "He--he--push--pushed me in," gasped the choking Mr. Turnbull.

  Nobody paid any attention to him; even Venia, seeing that he was safe,was on her knees by the side of the unconscious Blundell.

  "He--he's shamming," bawled the neglected Mr. Turnbull.

  "Shame!" said somebody, without even looking round.

  "He pushed me in," repeated Mr. Turnbull. "He pushed me in."

  "Oh, father," said Venia, with a scandalised glance at him, "how canyou?"

  "Shame!" said the bystanders, briefly, as they, watched anxiously forsigns of returning life on the part of Mr. Blundell. He lay still withhis eyes closed, but his hearing was still acute, and the sounds of arapidly approaching barrel trundled by a breathless Samaritan did himmore good than anything.

  "Good-bye, Venia," he said, in a faint voice; "good-bye."

  Miss Turnbull sobbed and took his hand.

  "He's shamming," roared Mr. Turnbull, incensed beyond measure at thefaithful manner in which Blundell was carrying out his instructions. "Hepushed me in."

  There was an angry murmur from the bystanders. "Be reasonable, Mr.Turnbull," said the sergeant, somewhat sharply.

  "He nearly lost 'is life over you," said the stout fisherman. "As pluckya thing as ever I see. If I 'adn't ha' been 'andy with that there lineyou'd both ha' been drownded."

  "Give--my love--to everybody," said Blundell, faintly. "Good-bye, Venia.Good-bye, Mr. Turnbull."

  "Where's that barrel?" demanded the stout fisher-man, crisply. "Going tobe all night with it? Now, two of you----"

  Mr. Blundell, with a great effort, and assisted by Venia and thesergeant, sat up. He felt that he had made a good impression, and had nodesire to spoil it by riding the barrel. With one exception, everybodywas regarding him with moist-eyed admiration. The exception's eyes were,perhaps, the moistest of them all, but admiration had no place in them.

  "You're all being made fools of," he said, getting up and stamping. "Itell you he pushed me over-board for the purpose."

  "Oh, father! how can you?" demanded Venia, angrily. "He saved yourlife."

  "He pushed me in," repeated the farmer. "Told me to look at a jelly-fishand pushed me in."

  "What for?" inquired Sergeant Daly.

  "Because--" said Mr. Turnbull. He looked at the unconscious sergeant,and the words on his lips died away in an inarticulate growl.

  "What for?" pursued the sergeant, in triumph. "Be reasonable, Mr.Turnbull. Where's the reason in pushing you overboard and then nearlylosing his life saving you? That would be a fool's trick. It was as finea thing as ever I saw."

  "What you 'ad, Mr. Turnbull," said the stout fisherman, tapping him onthe arm, "was a little touch o' the sun."

  "What felt to you like a push," said another man, "and over you went."

  "As easy as easy," said a third.

  "You're red in the face now," said the stout fisherman, regarding himcritically, "and your eyes are starting. You take my advice and get 'omeand get to bed, and the first thing you'll do when you get your sensesback will be to go round and thank Mr. Blundell for all 'e's done foryou."

  Mr. Turnbull looked at them, and the circle of intelligent faces grewmisty before his angry eyes. One man, ignoring his sodden condition,recommended a wet handkerchief tied round his brow.

  "I don't want any thanks, Mr. Turnbull," said Blundell, feebly, as hewas assisted to his feet. "I'd do as much for you again."

  The stout fisherman patted him admiringly on the back, and Mr. Turnbullfelt like a prophet beholding a realised vision as the spectatorsclustered round Mr. Blundell and followed their friends' example.Tenderly but firmly they led the hero in triumph up the quay towardhome, shouting out eulogistic descriptions of his valour to curiousneighbours as they passed. Mr. Turnbull, churlishly keeping his distancein the rear of the procession, received in grim silence thecongratulations of his friends.

  The extraordinary hallucination caused by the sun-stroke lasted with himfor over a week, but at the end of that time his mind cleared and he sawthings in the same light as reasonable folk. Venia was the first tocongratulate him upon his recovery; but his extraordinary behaviour inproposing to Miss Sippet the very day on which she herself became Mrs.Blundell convinced her that his recovery was only partial.

  BILL'S LAPSE