All But Lost: A Novel. Vol. 3 of 3

by G. A. Henty

“This is indeed a bad business, uncle. Do you think the delay is likely to last long?”

“I can’t tell you, Frank. You know now as much as I do. I will write to you from London as soon as we get legal opinions on the subject.”

Frank went up to the cottage very disheartened. He told his wife what had taken place.

“Oh, Frank, this is unfortunate. What had we better do, dear? Don’t you think we had better go up to London again at once, and carry out our former plan?”

“Well, Katie, at any rate we had better wait a short time until we hear from Mr. Bingham. You see we have taken this house for six months certain, and we have had all the expense of coming down here. It will have made a large hole in our little capital, dear.”

“Yes, Frank; but it would be better to put up with that than to wait here, spending more and doing nothing.”

“So it would, Katie; but at any rate we had better wait for another fortnight; by that time we shall see whether it is going on or not.”

It was nearly a fortnight before an answer came from Mr. Bingham, and it was highly satisfactory. Counsel were of opinion that the other party had not a leg to stand upon. That they ought to have opposed when the Bill was before the House; and that the last Act overrode the former one. An early day was named for hearing the case, and there was no doubt that the work would begin immediately after.

Both Frank and Kate agreed that there was nothing for it but to wait. In the meantime they had got to know the few gentry of the place. Mr. Larpent, who lived in the great house down on the hill-side below their cottage, and who owned some mines at a short distance from Landfarn. Mr. Larpent was a shrewd practical man, and his wife was very friendly with Mrs. Frank; as for Fanny Larpent, their daughter, she and Kate soon became as intimate as sisters; and Frank laughed and said, “If he had not married Katie, he should certainly have fallen in love with Fanny Larpent.”

The doctor, too, soon became a great ally of Frank’s. A short, stout, hearty man, with a fund of good sense and fun. There were a few other families in the place itself or in its immediate neighbourhood, the usual entourage of all small country towns. The clergyman, the lawyer, a half-pay officer or two, a few small landed proprietors, and three or four of the owners of the principal woollen factories. Some of these called upon the Maynards very shortly after their arrival, and most of the others, influenced by the favourable reports of the new comers, soon followed their example. Landfarn rather prided itself upon being a sociable place, and there were many quiet tea drinkings, and whist parties, and musical evenings. Altogether Frank and his wife liked the place very much. In the meantime, the South-west Yorkshire began work upon their part of the line beyond the disputed point, and Frank, making friends with the inspector, passed much of his time with him, watching the works, and learning his new business. Upon this line Evan went to work, and Frank saw but little of him now, for it was too far off to return at night to work. Weeks passed, the news from London was always favourable; Mr. Bingham wrote that the work must begin before long. This delay was very wearying to both Kate and Frank—more, perhaps, to her than to him, for Frank was essentially an easy going man, while Kate was as decidedly an impetuous woman. Sometimes Mr. Bingham came down, sometimes Fred, but the visits of the former decreased in number, while those of his son became more frequent. Constantly Frank was tempted to give it up, and as often some unusually cheering piece of news would come, and they would decide that it would be madness after waiting so long to throw it up, and to lose the benefit of all these months of delay, and of all the money that they had spent. Six months passed over thus—six weary anxious months—and then arrived the welcome news that both parties had agreed upon a compromise, and that work was certain to begin in another month at the latest. With this joyful intelligence, however, came the news that the contract had changed hands, and that Fred Bingham was to be the contractor in place of his father. Frank was very much vexed at this change. He had always liked his uncle, and had perfect faith in his good intentions towards him. Fred he objected to work under, as being of his own age; besides, stoutly as he had always supported him, he had doubts he could not entirely suppress of his good faith, besides which Fred had been decidedly cool during his visits to Landfarn. However, it was too late to draw back now. The hundred and fifty pounds which Frank had brought down with him were gone now, scarcely a pound remained, and there was nothing to do for it but to make the best of matters. At last the news came that the compromise was arranged, that the South-west Yorkshire was to make the disputed piece of work, and that both companies were to have the right of using it. Fred Bingham was to come down with his wife at the end of the week, and work was to begin at once from the point beyond the junction. This time there were no more delays; and upon the day appointed, Fred Bingham came down and took possession. The same evening, Frank went down to see him. Fred was in his smoking-room.