Whiteoaks of Jalna/Chapter 28
A month later a party was setting out one morning from Jalna for the wild-duck shooting. They were going by motor to the lakes and marshlands haunted by canvas-back, mallard, and snipe. With Maurice Vaughan were to ride two friends of his, Mr. Vale from Mistwell, and Mr. Antoine Lebraux from Quebec. Piers and Renny were to take the dogs, which, filled with gladness by the sight of the guns, trotted without rest from point to point of interest—the dunnage bag, the provisions, the weapons, and their masters' legs, clad in thick woollen stockings or leather leggings. The sky was grey, broken by small patches of cold blue, while the scattered sunshine seemed deliberately to seek out the burning red of the maple-trees. A strong wind was blowing from the south-east, bringing with it the smell of the lake and the sound of its thunder on the beach.
Wright came from the house, carrying a heavy canvas-covered hamper, and stowed it in the back of Renny's car.
"The bacon's in this one, sir," he observed, "and the small tinned stuff. The bag of dog-biscuits is in this corner. And this here's the sperrits."
"Good." Renny stuck his head into the car. "We can start directly. . . . All set, Maurice?"
"Yes, it's time we were off."
Nicholas, Ernest, Finch, Wakefield, Pheasant, and Mooey were out bare-headed to see the party off. Nicholas wore a heavy red-and-green-plaid dressing-gown; his iron-grey mane had not yet been combed, and rose in a crest above his strong features. Ernest stood chatting to the strangers, hands in pockets, looking slender, feeling young again, exhilarated by the bustle. Pheasant, her short brown hair fluttering, was everywhere in pursuit of her son, who, on his feet now, wrapped in a muffler of Piers's, his small nose blue, was in imminent danger from cars, dogs, men, and the excited racings of Wake.
How Finch wished he were going!
He stood curved like the new moon, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind, watching with a wistful grin the fascinating activities of the hunters.
Piers was passing him with a pointer on a lead, when he stopped abruptly and stared at him. The grin faded from Finch's face. He stiffened, expecting a sneer. Piers said: "Why don't you come along?"
Finch returned pleasantly: "Yes, I see myself!"
"I'm in earnest. It'd do those fool nerves of yours good. Set you up for the winter." He called to Renny, who was peering suspiciously into the engine of his motor. "Why don't you let young Finch come? He might be of some use."
"He'd be more likely to put a shot into one of us! He's never been. Why take him?"
"Why not?" persisted Piers. "Look at him! He'll never live to enjoy his money if he goes on like this. He's all legs and nose."
The two surveyed him. Finch giggled distraughtly, feeling himself to be dangling in mid-air.
"Very well," agreed Renny, laconically. "But don't waste any time getting ready."
Finch flew toward the house.
"Why, he's as keen as mustard," said Piers, approvingly.
"Me, too!" clamoured Wake. "I want to go!"
Piers tried to quiet him by standing him on his head, but the moment he was released he got into the car and established himself on the dunnage bag, whence he had to be forcibly ejected.
"Do you know," he said, tears in his eyes, looking up into Renny's face, "that I have never been anywhere in my life?"
"You can't come." Renny took out some silver and put two fifty-cent pieces into the little boy's hand. "Try to have a good time on this."
Wake had never had such a magnificent sum given to him before. He was effectually quieted, even made solemn by the responsibility.
In his room Finch was throwing clothes and boots into a suitcase. In a fury of haste he dragged a bottle-green sweater over the dark red one he wore. He surveyed himself in the glass. He remembered Wake's dream of his being a "long, yellowish, rather sad-looking flower." He burst out laughing. "Gosh," he exclaimed, "this is fierce!" What he designated as "fierce" can only be guessed, but probably referred to the furious speed with which life was moving. There were Eden and Minny Ware mysteriously disappeared, there were Aunt Augusta and Alayne in England, and here was he off hunting with the other men.
He tore down the stairs, the suitcase bumping against his legs, and appeared wild-eyed before the others. He sprang, bag in hand, into his brother-in-law's car.
"Here," objected Vaughan, "you can't ride in this car! You'll have to go in the other."
"Get in here with the dogs," said Renny.
He put his suitcase on top of the mound of luggage, and wedged himself in with the two spaniels and the pointer. They were trembling with excitement. They licked his hands and face and cried with glad eagerness to be off.
They were off! Maurice's car was turning into the drive, its three occupants waving and calling out to the group who were left. It was impossible to believe that he was in the car behind Renny and Piers. He put his head out of the window and shouted: "Good-bye, Uncle Nick! Good-bye, Uncle Ernest! Good-bye, kids!"
They shouted back. Wake was dancing up and down with excitement. Uncle Ernest had Mooey in his arms. Pheasant and Mooey were throwing kisses. The joy, the abandon, of it pained him. He could bear unhappiness, but he had no defences against joy.
On either side of the road the oaks and the maples stood up showing their scarlet and mahogany-coloured leaves, a few of which, with every gust, were swept from them and flew a short way like bright birds before they sank to the roadside. As they neared the church the cedars of the graveyard rose in a dark green cluster against the sky. Renny touched Piers's hand on the wheel. "Go slow here," he said.
The car crept past the graveyard. The brothers looked up the steep path, remembering how only a short while ago they had carried a coffin up there. Renny took off his cap. He shot a quick glance at the others, and they too pulled off theirs. Piers held his in his brown hand, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Renny for the signal to replace it. But Renny looked over his shoulder and said to Finch:
"Finch, do you remember what her last word was?"
"'Gammon!'" answered Finch.
The End