These reflections of Master Cradock were not so lucid as usual. At least he made a false antithesis. If it had been possible to doubt Mr. Garnetʼs sincerity, he would not have been by any means so extraordinary as he was.
“Not much trouble, after all”, cried Rufus Hutton, rollicking up like a man of thrice his true cubic capacity; “ah, these things are simple enough for a man with a little νοῦς. I shall explain the whole process to Mrs. Hutton, she is so fond of information. Never saw a firework before, sir—at least, I mean the machinery of them—and now I understand it thoroughly; much better, indeed, than the foreman does. Did not I hear you say so, George”?
“Eh, my mon, I deed so”—the foreman was a shrewd, dry Scotchman—“in your own opeenion mainly. But ye havena peyed us yet, my mon, for the dustin’ o’ your shoon”.
Rufus Hutton began, amid some laughter, to hunt his French purse for the siller, when the foreman leaped up as if he were shot, and dashed behind the oak–tree. “Awa, mon, awa, if ye value your life! Dinna ye see the glue–pot burstinʼ”?
Rufus dropped the purse, and fled for his life, and threw himself flat, fifty yards away, that the explosion might pass over him. Even then, when the laugh was out, and Mr. Garnet had said to him, “Perhaps, sir, you will explain that process for the benefit of Mrs. Hutton”, instead of being disconcerted he was busier than ever, and took Mr. Garnet aside some little way down the chase.
“They want to make a job of it, I can see that well enough. To charge for it, sir; to charge for it”.
“Thank you for your advice, Dr. Hutton”, replied Bull Garnet, crustily; he was very morose that afternoon, and surly betwixt his violence; “but perhaps you had better leave them to me, for fear of the glue–pot bursting”.
“Ah, I suppose I shall never hear the last of that most vulgar pleasantry. But I tell you they canʼt see it, or else it is they wonʼt. They are determined to do it all over again, and they need only change four letters, and the fixings all come in again. For the R they should put an L, for the D a Y—— Bless my soul, Mr. Garnet, what is it you see there”?
No wonder Rufus Hutton asked what Mr. Garnet saw, for the stewardʼs eyes were fixed intently, wrathfully, ferociously, upon something not very far from the place where his home lay among the trees. His forehead rolled in three heavy furrows, deep and red at the bottom, his teeth were set hard, and the muscles of his shoulders swelled as he clenched his hands fast. Dr. Hutton, gazing in the same direction, could see only trees and heather. “What is it you see there, Mr. Garnet”? Rufus Hutton by this time was quivering with curiosity.
“Iʼd advise you, sir, not to ask me”: then he added, in a different tone, “the most dastardly scoundrel poacher that ever wanted an ounce of lead, sir. Let us go back to the men, for I have little time to waste”.