there should be more than one master. I'm the master here, and I
intend to be so to the end. Take that manure back into the yard."
"Back into the yard?" said Hopkins, very slowly.
"Yes; back into the yard."
"What,--afore all their faces?"
"Yes; you've disobeyed me before all their faces?"
Hopkins paused a moment, looking away from the squire, and shaking
his head as though he had need of deep thought, but by the aid of
deep thought had come at last to a right conclusion. Then he resumed
the barrow, and putting himself almost into a trot, carried away his
prize into the kitchen-garden. At the pace which he went it would
have been beyond the squire's power to stop him, nor would Mr Dale
have wished to come to a personal encounter with his servant. But he
called after the man in dire wrath that if he were not obeyed the
disobedient servant should rue the consequences for ever. Hopkins,
equal to the occasion, shook his head as he trotted on, deposited his
load at the foot of the cucumber-frames, and then at once returning
to his master, tendered to him the key of the greenhouse.
"Master," said Hopkins, speaking as best he could with his scanty
breath, "there it is;--there's the key; of course I don't want no
warning, and doesn't care about my week's wages. I'll be out of the
cottage afore night, and as for the work'us, I suppose they'll let me
in at once, if your honour'll give 'em a line."
Now as Hopkins was well known by the squire to be the owner of three
or four hundred pounds, the hint about the workhouse must be allowed
to have been melodramatic.
"Don't be a fool," said the squire, almost gnashing his teeth.
"I know I've been a fool," said Hopkins, "about that 'ere doong; my
feelings has been too much for me. When a man's feelings has been
too much for him, he'd better just take hisself off, and lie in the
work'us till he dies." And then he again tendered the key. But the
squire did not take the key, and so Hopkins went on. "I s'pose I'd
better just see to the lights and the like of that, till you've
suited yourself, Mr Dale. It 'ud be a pity all them grapes should go
off, and they, as you may say, all one as fit for the table. It's a
long way the best crop I ever see on 'em. I've been that careful with
'em that I haven't had a natural night's rest, not since February.
There ain't nobody about this place as understands grapes, nor yet
anywhere nigh that could be got at. My lord's head man is wery
|