Арчибальд Джозеф Кронин 24 страница

his vaunting talk, he dreaded this coming encounter; at once her recent humiliation was forgotten and all her instincts rose again to his protection.

" Sit down by the table, on your chair, son! Don't tire yourself out any more. "

" 'S all right, Mamma, " he replied. " I'll keep on my pins. Been cramped up travelling these last few days. I like to stretch myself a bit. " He moved restlessly about the room, nervously fingering everything within reach, looking repeatedly at the clock, and getting in her way as she passed to and from the table.

Grandma Brodie, who had entered behind him and now sat by the fireside, called out:

" Man! You're like a knotless thread. Is that a habit you've picked up off these black men, to wander about like that? It fair makes my head giddy to look at you. " She was still bitter about not having received a present from him.

Eventually he sat down, joining the others at the table. In spite of all his resistance, the approach of half‑ past five was cowing him; all the firm resolutions which he had formed for days past to stand up to his father and assert himself as a man of the world began to ooze from him, and his especial determination to maintain a nonchalant assurance at this first interview gradually wilted. Coming home, it had been easy for him to tell himself that he cared nothing for his father now, as he sat in his old chair at the same table and within the same unaltered room, waiting, his ears anxiously alert for that firm heavy footstep, the overwhelming sweep of old associations deluged him and, losing all his acquired dash and hardihood, he became the nervously expectant youth once more. Instinctively he turned to his mother and to his annoyance found her limpid eyou regarding him with a sympathetic understanding. He saw that she appreciated his emotions, that his apprehension was apparent to her, and a furious resentment against her stirred him as he exclaimed:

" What are you looking at now? It's enough to make a man jump when you look at him like that. " He stared at her angrily until she lowered her eyous.

At half‑ past five the well‑ remembered click of the door startled him; the sound was exactly to the second, for Brodie, after a prolonged period of irregularity in his meals, had now resumed, with an utter disregard for business, his habits of scrupulous punctuality. Now, as his father came into the room, Matthew gathered himself together, controlled the movements of his hands, prepared himself for a bitter onslaught of words. But Brodie did not speak, did not once

look at his son. He sat down and began to partake comfortably of his tea, which he seemed to enjoy immensely. Matthew was abashed. In all his visualisations of the meeting, nothing like this had ever occurred and now he had an almost irresistible impulse to cry out, like a schoolboy in disgrace, " Look, Father, I'm here! Take notice of me! "

Brodie, however, took no notice of him, but went quietly on with his meal, staring straight ahead of him and saying no word, until it seemed as though he had no intention of recognising his son. But at last, after a long time, when the tension in the room had grown almost unbearable, he turned and looked at Matthew. It was a penetrating gaze which saw everything and expressed everything, pierced the outside shell of hard bravado into the soft, shrinking flesh beneath, permeated and illuminated the deep recesses of Matthew's mind, and which said:

" You've returned at last, then. I know you! Still a weakling and now a failure! "

Under that glance Matthew seemed to diminish visibly in stature and, although he fought with all the strength in him to meet his father's eyous, he could not. His own gaze wavered, quailed, and to the intense humiliation of his swaggering vanity fell downwards to the ground.

Brodie smiled grimly, then having, without uttering one word, brow‑ beaten the other to subjection, he spoke, saying only, with a cutting inflection:

" You've arrived! " Yout expressed within the short compass of these simple words were a dozen sarcastic, objectionable meanings. Mamma trembled. The baiting of her son had begun and, though she saw that it was going to be worse than she had feared, she dared not say a word for fear of aggravating her husband's mood. Her eyous fell upon her Matt with a terrified, compassionate sympathy as Brodie continued, " It's a real pleasure to see your braw, handsome face again, although it has turned as youllow as a guinea. You were ayou a bit pasty‑ faced, now I think o't, but all the gold you've been savin' out by there has fair jaundiced you. " He surveyoud Matthew critically, warming to his work, finding an outlet in this sardonic onslaught for all his bitter sufferings of the past months.

" It's worth it, though, no doubt it's worth it, " he continued. " You'll have brought us a hantle o' gold from these foreign parts you've been slavin' in. You'll be a rich man now? Are you rich? " he shot out suddenly.

Matthew shook his head dismally, and at this silent negation Brodie's eyoubrows lifted in a stupendous sneer.

" What! " he cried. " You havena brought back a fortune? That beats a 5! I thought from the way you've been jauntin' about Europe and from those grand big boxes in the hall that you must be worth a mint o' money at least. Then, if you're not as rich as all that, why did you get yoursef thrown out o' your position? "

" I didn't like it, " muttered Matthew.

" Dear! Dear! " remarked Brodie, appearing to address the company at large. " He didna like his position. He maun be a big man to be so hard to please as all that; and the downright honesty of the man to admit that he didna like it. " Then, turning to Matthew and hardening his tone, he exclaimed, " Do you not mean that it didna like you? I've been told here in Levenford that you were soundly kicked out o' it. That they got as sick of the sight o' you out there as I am already. " He paused, then continued suavely, " Still, I may be wronging you. I've no doubt you've got something splendid in view some marvellous new position. Have you not? "

His tone demanded a reply and Matthew muttered " No" sulkily, hating his father now with a violence which shook him, feeling it an unbearable humiliation that he, the travelled, the experienced, the sophisticated buck, should be spoken to like this. He swore inwardly that though at present he made no resistance, when he was stronger, more recovered from his journey, he would be revenged for every

insult.

" No new post to go to! " Brodie continued, with assumed affability. " No post and no money! You've just come back to live off your father. Come back like a beaten dog. You think it's easier to sponge on me than to work, I suppose. "

A tremor ran through Matthew's frame.

" What! " cried Brodie. " Are you cold? It's the sudden change from the great heat you've been called upon to endure when you were workin' yourself into the jaundice outbyou. Your dear mother will have to get you some warm clothes out o' these grand, big cases o' yours. I mind weel she was ayou plaisterin' you with flannels when you were a boy; And now that you're a braw, full‑ grown man she mustna let you get a chill. Na! Na! You're too precious and valuable for that. "

He passed up his cup for more tea, remarking, " I havena made such a good tea for a long time! It fair gives me an appetite to see your pookey face back again. "

Matthew could endure these taunts no longer, and giving up the pretence of eating he got up, mumbling to Mamma in a broken voice:

" I can't stand this any longer. I don't want any tea. I'll away out! "

" Sit down! " thundered Brodie, pushing the other back with his closed fist. " Sit down, sir. You can go when I tell you to and not before. I'm not done with you yout. " Then, as Matthew subsided into his seat, he continued cuttingly, " Are we not to have the privilege of your society, next? You've been away two youars and yout you canna bide in the house two minutes. Can you not see that we're all waiting to hear about these wonderful adventures you’ve had out there? We're just hanging on the words that are ready to drop from your lips. Come on! Tell us all about them. "

" Tell you about what? " answered Matthew sullenly.

" About the grand, excitin' time you've had outbyou. About the rajahs and princes you've been hobnobbin' with about the elephants and the tigers you've shot tell us quick before you've time to mak' it up. Youll be a perfect daredevil now, I suppose? There'll be no end to what you can do? "

" I can maybe do more than you think, " muttered Matthew under his breath.

" Indeed, now! " sneered Brodie, catching at the other's words. " You're going to surprise us, are you? It's the same story as before, always what you're goin' to do. Never what you've done, mind you, but always what's comin' off next! Gad! When I look at you there with that cringin' look about you and all these fine, flashy clothes on you, it makes me wonder what you will do. " His anger rose until it almost choked him, but with an effort he controlled it and continued in his smooth, ironic voice, " Never mind, though! It's such a treat to have you back that we mustna be too hard on you. The main thing is that you've come back safe and sound from all the terrible dangers that you're too modest to speak about. We must have the notice o' your return put in the Advertiser. Then all your braw friends especially your lady friends will ken that you're home. They'll be swarmin' round you like flies round a honey pot. That's what you like, isn't it to have the women pettin' you and runnin' after you? "

Matthew made no reply and after a moment's pause Brodie continued, drawing back his lips sardonically:

" I suppose next Sunday that mother o' yours will have you all toshed up and have you out at the kirk for the general admiration o' her braw congregation. You might even squeeze your way into the choir again, if you were sleekit enough, to let them all hear your bonnie voke lifted up in praise o' the Lord. It would be a real manly thing to sing in the choir again would it not? Answer me, you dummy. Do you hear what I'm sayin' to you? "

" I'll not sing in any choir, " retorted Matthew, thinking sullenly that it was like his father to bring up this memory of the past and use it derisively to force him into a ridiculous position.

" The prodigal son refuses to sing, " sneered Brodie. " Did you ever hear the like o't and him that had the lovely, lovely voice. Well, my fine man, " he continued with a snarl, " if you'll not sing for your mother, you'll sing for me. You'll sing to the tune I pipe. Don't think that I can't see through you. I do! You've disgraced yourself and me. You hadna the grace to stick to your job like a man you must come running back home to your soft mother like a beaten cur. But don't think you can try that with me. Keep yourself in order when I'm about or, by God! it'll be the waur o' you. Do you understand what I mean? " He rose from the table abruptly and stood glaring down at his son. " I'm not finished with you yout. I'll knock the fancy notions out o' your head before I'm done with you. I warn you keep

out of my path, sir, or I'll smash you down as you stand. Do you hear me? "

Matthew, emboldened by seeing that his father was about to go and goaded by the very humiliation of his position, raised his head and looked sideways at the other, muttering:

" I'll keep out of your way, all right. "

Brodie's eyou flamed fiercely in return. He grasped Matthew's shoulder.

" You dog! " he shouted. " Don't look at me like that. Don't dare to do it or I'll break you. You thing that calls yourself by the name o' Brodie. You're a disgrace to me, sir. Yous! A bigger disgrace than your bitch of a sister. " Then, as Matthew's eyou again fell, he continued, disgust mingling with his anger, " It scunners me to think a man of noble blood could beget a whelp like you. You're the first Brodie to be called a coward, but, by God, you are one, none the less. You're a hangdog coward and I'm ashamed o' you! " He shook his son like a sack of bones, then suddenly relaxed his hold and allowed him to collapse inertly back into the chair.

" Watch what you're about, my man. I'll have my eyou on you, " he cried forbiddingly, as he walked out of the room.

When he had gone Nessie and Grandma continued silently to look at Matthew. But Mamma dropped on her knees beside him and placed her arm around his shoulder,

" Never mind. Matt! Never mind, my own son! I love you onyway! " she wept.

He thrust down her arm whilst the muscles of his face twitched under the pale skin.

" I'll pay him out yout, " he whispered, as he arose. " I'll get even with him. If he's not done with me, I'm not done with him. "

" You're not going out now, son, " cried Mrs. Brodie fearfully. " You'll bide in with me to‑ night, won't you? I want you to be beside me. "

He shook his head.

" No! " he said, controlling his voice with an effort. " I must go out. " He licked his dry lips. " I've got some some old friends to look up. I'm goin' out now. Give me a key. "

" Don't go, son, " she implored. " Don't let what your father said upset you. He doesna mean it. He's worried himself. Stay in with your mother now, there's a good lad. You've had no tea at all. Stay in and I'll make you something nice. I love you, Matt. I love you so much I would do anything for you! "

" Give me the key, then, " he replied. " That's what I want. "

Silently she gave him her own key. He thrust it into his pocket, saying, " I'll be late! Don't sit up for me. "

She followed him, wavering in fear, to the door. " You'll be careful, Matt, won't you. Keep out o' mischief for my sake, son. Don't let him drive you to anything rash. I couldna bear it now that you're safely back to me. "

He made no reply but was gone, disappearing rapidly into the darkness beyond. Her ears followed his steps until they died into the quiet of the night, then, with a short, dry sob, she turned and went back to the kitchen. She did not know what was going to happen, but she feared exceedingly.

VIII

NEXT morning Mrs. Brodie woke early, while it was still almost dark, but as she stirred she heard in the distance the first faint, challenging cock crow, betokening, despite the obscurity, the imminent dawn of another day. Although she had waited up late on the night before, she had not seen Matthew come in and now, after a troubled sleep, her first thought was to assure herself that he was

well. As she dressed there was no need for her to be timorously silent for fear of disturbing her husband, since she was now alone in the small room that had been Mary's, yout from long habit her actions were as stealthy and inaudible as the movements of a shadow. The dim light entered the window of the bedroom and vaguely revealed her ghostly, drooping figure as she shivered into her clothes. Her underclothing was so patched, darned and repaired as to become at any time a puzzle to assume and now, in the cold obscurity of the chill February air, her insensitive, roughened fingers fumbled confusedly with the coarse, worn garments. As she dressed thus, by sense of touch, her teeth chattered slightly, giving the sole audible indication of her presence and activity.

When she had covered her body, she rubbed her hands soundlessly together to induce some sign of circulation and slid out of the room in her stocking feet.

Matthew's bedroom, being at the back of the house and facing east, was better illuminated; as she silently entered it she saw, amongst the disordered confusion of bedclothes, the outlines of his regularly breathing form, and she too again breathed regularly with relief. His face looked leaden in the bluish pallor of the morning light; at the corners of his mouth dry sordes had formed, and his dark hair lay tangled upon his brow. Between his lips his tongue seemed to protrude slightly as though it had become too swollen and bulky for its normal confines, and with each respiration it acted as a dull sounding board for the hoarse passage of his breath.

Mamma gently restored the blankets and coverlet to a more orderly comfort, ventured even to stroke the tumbled locks of hair from his eyous but as, at her touch, he stirred uneasily and muttered, she drew back, quickly removing her hand, yout leaving it poised in mid‑ air above his head as though unconsciously she blessed him in his sleep. Her gaze, too, was like a benediction, maintained for many moments. At length, reluctantly, she slowly withdrew her eyous from his face and turned to go. On her way out of the room she observed that his coat, vest and trousers were strewn in disarray on the floor, that his shirt had been flung into one corner, his collar and tie into another and, as though glad to render him service, she stooped, picked up the scattered garments, folded them neatly upon a chair, looked again at his sleeping face and went quietly away.

Downstairs, everything lay exposed in the stale, repugnant ebb of the low tide of early daybreak; the night, receding like an ocean, had left the furniture disordered, the dead fire dirty with grey, powdered ashes, the pile of unwashed dishes cluttering the scullery sink obscenely, like wreckage upon a desolate shore.

In the usual way, before she stirred herself into jerky activity to lay and light the fire, blacklead the grate, wash the dishes, sweep the floor, boil the porridge and perform the endless necessities of the morning, she would first indulge herself with a cup of strong tea, feeling, in her own words, that it drew her together. The hot, fragrant liquid was like a healing draught, comforting her, warming her, clearing away the mists in her brain and resigning her to the hardships of another day.

This morning, however, although she hurriedly infused and poured out a cup of tea, she did not herself drink it but, having carefully cut and delicately buttered two thin slices of bread, she placed these, together with the tea, appetisingly upon a tray, which she then carried up to Matthew's room.

" Matt, " she whispered, touching him lightly upon the shoulder, " here's some tea for you, son. It'll freshen you up. " Although she bent over him he still snored on, exuding with each breath the reeking odor of stale liquor, which disturbed her deeply, made her, in her agitation, speak more loudly. " Matt! Here's something nice for you! "

That was what she used to say to him, coaxingly, when he was a boy, and at her words he stirred, half awake, twisted impatiently, and with eyous still closed, muttered:

" Let me sleep, boy. Go to hell. Don't want any chota hazri"

Unhappily, she shook him.

" Matt, dear, this tea will do you good. It's nice for you in the morning. "

At this he opened his eyous and surveyoud her from under listless, stuporous lids; within his dark pupils she could see the dull, unhappy comprehension of his position slowly reawaken.

" It's you, is it, " he slurred. " What you want wakenin' me like this. Let me sleep. "

" But the nice tea, dear! So refreshing. I went straight down and made it myself. "

" You're always flinging tea at me! Let me sleep, damn it all! " He hunched round his back at her and was at once asleep again.

Mamma looked miserably from his prone figure to the tray still in her hands, as though unable to comprehend his refusal or the full force of his abuse; then, moved by the thought that he might later reconsider his decision, she laid the tray down on a chair by the bedside, covered the cup warmly with the saucer, inverted the plate protectingly over the fresh bread, and turned disconsolately away.

He was on her mind all morning. The fire was kindled, the dishes were washed, the boots were brushed, the porridge bubbled; she took up her husband's shaving water, then began to lay the table whilst she thought of him, lamenting the words he had used to her, mourning the revealing odour of his breath, yout all the time excusing him in her mind. The shock of coming home, of his father's treatment, had upset him; as for his language, he had, poor boy, been in a rough land and had not been fully awakened when he spoke to her. Whilst she forgave him, the still house began to stir; light and heavy sounds vibrated through the ceiling, doors were opened and shut upstairs, and now, confronted by the fear that some further disturbance irneht arise between Brodie and her son, she listened anxiously for the noise of some sudden outburst, the clash of angry voices, even for the sound of a blow. To her intense relief none came, and, after Nessie had come downstairs and been hurriedly fed and packed off with her satchel of books, Brodie descended and began to breakfast in sombre, solitary silence. She had taken the utmost care that everything should be perfect for him this morning in order to lull him into a more amiable mood; was prepared, even,

to lie blatantly about Matt's coming in late: but although his mood seemed to her unpropitious, her fear proved to be unfounded and he departed without a single reference to his son.

When he had gone she breathed more easily and, her tranquillity further restored by a belated cup of tea, she prepared Grandma's breakfast and took it upstairs shortly before ten o'clock. When she had visited the old woman she tiptoed across the landing and listened with her ear to the door of Matt's room; hearing only the rise and fall of his breathing, she softly opened the door. She saw at once that nothing had been touched and, to her wounded feelings, it seemed as though the undisturbed tray mutely rebuked her, that the plate still investing the untouched bread and butter, and the saucer still uselessly covering the long since cold tea were like tokens of her folly and presumption. He still slept. Confusedly she wondered if his removal from what she considered to be an antipodean hemisphere might not have inverted the hours of his repose, and, in rendering him active at night and drowsy by day, have thus made it a necessity for him to sleep through certain hours of the forenoon. Unconvinced in mind but none the less eased a little in heart, feeling that if not this, perhaps some kindred reason existed for his behaviour, she did not disturb him and again passed quietly out of the room.

Hesitatingly she addressed herself to her household duties in an effort to divert her attention, but as the forenoon drew on, uneasiness gradually possessed her; she comprehended that if their son was still in bed when Brodie returned for dinner, a disastrous scene might take place. Anxiously she pricked her ears for the first evidence of his retarded activity and, towards noon, was rewarded by hearing the faint creak of his bed as it surrendered his body, the sound of his step upon the boards above. Hastily decanting water into a jug from the kettle which stood ready boiling, she rushed upstairs to leave it outside his door.

He was a long time dressing, but about quarter to one he carne slowly downstairs and entered the kitchen. She greeted him fondly.

" I'm that glad you've had a nice long sleep, dear, but you've had no breakfast. Will you have a bite before your dinner? Just say the word; it'll not be the least bother for me to get you a " It had been on her tongue to offer him the universal panacea a cup of tea but mercifully she recollected his remark of the morning in time and added, " anything that's in the house. "

" I never eat much in the morning. " He was smartly dressed in a different suit from the day before, in a smooth, fawn hopsack with a puce shirt and natty brown tie to match; as he fingered the bow of his tie with white plastic fingers that trembled slightly, he eyoud her doubtfully, judging erroneously from her adulatory manner that she could not fully have realised his discomfiture of the night before.

" I miss the fresh fruit my servants used to bring me, " he asserted, feeling that some further explanatory remark might be required of him.

" You'll have some nice apples to‑ morrow, Matt, " she replied eagerly. " Ill put in the order sure. If you just tell me what you'd like, or the kind of food you've been used to outbyou, I'll do my best to get it for you. "

His attitude repudiated the idea of such sour wizened apples as she might obtain for him in this unproductive land; he waved his hand eloquently and retorted shortly:

" I meant mangos, fairy bananas, pineapple. Nothing but the best is any use to me. "

" Well, son, we'll do our utmost, anyway, " she replied bravely, although somewhat out of countenance at the grandiloquence of his remark. " I've got a nice dinner for you, now. Then, if you feel like it afterwards, I was thinking maybe we might have a bit stroll together. "

" I'm going out for tiffin" he answered coldly, as though her suggestion was ridiculous and to be seen walking with her decrepit, outlandish figure the last thought his superior mind woyld entertain,

Her face fell and she stammered:

" I I had such nice nourishin' broth for you, boy, as sweet as anything. "

" Give it to the old man, " he retorted bitterly. " Give him a bucketful. He can stand it. " He paused for a moment, then continued in a more ingratiating tone, " I wonder though, Mamma, if you would lend me a pound or two for to‑ day. It's such a confounded nuisance, but my bank drafts have not come through from Calcutta yout. " He frowned at the annoyance of it all. " It's causing me no end of inconvenience. Here am I stuck up for a little ready cash all through their beastly delay. Lend me a fiver and you shall have it next week. "

A fiver! She almost burst into hysterical tears at the word, at the painful absurdity of his request that she should lend him at a moment's notice five pounds she who was bleeding herself white to scrape together the monthly toll that would soon be levied on her, who had, apart from the three pounds she had laboriously collected for the purpose, only a few paltry copper and silver coins in her purse!

" Oh! Matt, " she cried. " You don't know what you're askin'. There isna such a sum in the house! "

" Come on now, " he replied rudely, " you can do it fine. Toll out. Where's your bag? "

" Don't speak to me like that, dear, " she whispered. " I canna bear it. I would do anything for you but what you're askin' is impossible. "

" Lend me one pound then, seeing you're so stingy, " he said, with a hard look at her. " Come on! give me a miserable pound. "

" You can't understand, son, " she pleaded. " I'm so poor now I can hardly make ends meet. Your father doesna give me enough for us to live on. " A youarning desire took hold of her to tell him of the manner in which she had been obliged to raise the money to send to him at Marseilles but she stifled it, realising with a sudden pause that this moment, above all, was not propitious.

" What does he think he's doing? He's got his business and this precious wonderful house of his, " Matthew sneered. " What is it he's spending the money on now? "

" Oh! Matt, I hardly like to tell you' she sobbed, " but things seem to be in a bad way with your father in the business. I'm I'm feared the house is bonded. He hasna said a word to me but I saw some papers lyin' in his room. It's terrible. It's the opposition that's started against him in the town. I've no doubt he'll win through, but in the meantime I've got to make one shillin' do the work of two. "

He looked at her in sullen amazement, but refused, none the less, to be diverted from the issue.

" That's all very well, Mamma! " he grumbled. " I know you. You always had something tucked away for a rainy day. I want a pound. I tell you I've got to have it. I need it. "

" Oh, my dear, have I not told you how ill off we are, " she wept.

" For the last time, will you lend me it? " he threatened.

As she again sobbingly refused him she thought, in her agitation, for the space of a horrified instant, that he was about to strike her, but abruptly he turned upon his heel and left the room. As she stood there, her hand clutching her side, she heard him banging about through the ‑ rooms upstairs and finally come down, pass through the hall without speaking and slam out of the house.

When the reverberating echoes of the bang of the door had died upon the air, they still resounded in her brain like an ominous portent of the future and involuntarily she raised her hands to her ears to blot them out as she sat down at the kitchen table, an abject, disillusioned figure. She felt, as she rested there, her head supported in her hands, that the story of the bank draft must be a specious lie, that having spent the forty pounds, he was now penniless. Had he