The Prophet John. A romance

Front matter

A ROMANCE. BY H FREDERICK BOYLE, AUTHOR OF "camp notes," "the treasure of thorburns," "her evil genius." LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL, Ld. 1894. [All rights reserved.'] Richard Clat ifc Sons, Limited, London & Bungat. CONTENTS. CHAP. PA0E I. THE CONDITIONS ... ... ... ... 1 II. UPCOMBE MANOR ... ... ... ... 15 III. STORMING THE MANOR ... ... ... 29 IV. MABEL ... ... ... ... ... ... 40 V. AT SUPPER ... ... ... ... ... 53 VI. GOLY ... ... ... ... 70 VII. MYSTERIES ... ... ... ... ... 81 VIII. THE RIDE ... ... 96 IX. BROTHER AMYATT OF STOKESHALL 109 X. THE DAIRY ... 124 XI. THE OUTBURST 138 XII. THE TEA-PARTY ... ... 150 XIII. THE PHOTOGRAPH ... ... ... ... 162 XIV. THE MORNING ... ... ... ... 174 XV. FIRE ! ... ... ... ... ... ... 186 XVI. A PAUSE ... ... ... ... ... CONTENTS. VI CHAP. PACB XVII.

Chapter I. The Conditions

" I have had time to think over all that, Mr. Corbett, and my mind is made up. I purpose writing to the Prophet John to night, with a view to making his daughter's acquaintance. If you have many clients who would refuse Upcombe Manor and six thousand a year without examining a young woman who happens to be attached thereto, I should say your business must lie in the lunatic asylums mostly." " Ha ! ha ! But there is an alternative, Mr. Upcombe. As I have pointed out, the will is a mass of incongruities. It is all in Sir John's handwriting, and if Jenkinson really passed it, he must have been out of B his mind already. My advice is — contest it ! I think you have an excellent chance of success." " So I think, but that alternative will remain when I have seen Miss Thurlby. I will keep you posted up.

Good-day" — and Hugh Upcombe left his lawyer's chambers. He himself had perceived incongruities enough in his uncle's will, studying it day by day on the homeward voyage from India. Nor could Mr. Jenkinson, who was responsible, give any assistance to explain them, for he had been struck with palsy and incapacitated before his client's death. The case stood thus, in brief : — Sir John Upcombe, K.C.B., etc., etc., of Upcombe Minor, went to near Torquay, after re tiring from the Diplomatic Service. He had no near relatives living ; with his brothers and sisters-in-law he had never been cordial. They only knew that Sir John had joined an obscure sect called the " Anointed Brethren " ; after that event he broke off all relations whatsoever. Rumour informed them that his house was the head-quarters of the sect, and they knew that some years before he had moved to Upcombe Manor, the family seat, taking his " Prophet " with him.

Under these conditions the will was a pleasant surprise. Hugh Upcombe, the son of his younger brother, a subaltern in India, took fifteen thousand pounds, his other nephew, Dick Poynings, commonly called " Goly " — short for Goliath — receiving the same ; small gifts were distributed all round. As for the estate, and the Manor House with its contents, Sir John devised them to his nephew Hugh aforesaid, upon conditions. In the first place, the bequest did not take effect for twelve months. One half of that time Hugh must spend in a " visit" to the Manor, there to make acquaintance with Miss Mabel Thurlby, daughter of the Rev. John Thurlby. If at the end of twelve months he should refuse to marry her, his interest lapsed. To the Rev. John Thurlby — who was the Prophet — Sir John bequeathed a residence for life at Upcombe Manor, there " un molested " to hold the services of the Anointed Brethren, among whom, as testator hoped, his nephew Hugh would enrol himself.

In case the latter should marry Mabel, he was bound to pay £5000 to the Rev. John, in trust, for the general purposes of the Brotherhood. But if at the end of the twelve months he refused to marry Mabel, the estate and mansion were to be sold, and the proceeds handed over to the Elders of the Brotherhood for the time being, by them to be divided into equal parts — one going to the said Mabel, and the other, in trust, for the Brotherhood. This disposition applied also to the case of Hugh's death, unmarried. O 3 It is unnecessary to point out the incon sistencies with which these arrangements positively bristled. They will appear in due course. The executors were Brother Reuben Amyatt of Stokeshall, and Mr. Jenkinson, the solicitor. Deeply meditating, Hugh Upcombe strolled towards Pall Mall.

He had seen much service on the Afghan frontier, where a man gains self-possession and quick resolve — or he had best choose some easier field of glorv. His cheeks were burned almost to the colour of chocolate, while his fair moustache was bleached. Something of a frown, caused by the sun-glare in those deserts, was permanently stamped upon his brow, giving an air of determination to the merry blue eyes. It was a face rather bonny than handsome, but all who beheld it understood that Hugh Upcombe was not a man to be trifled with. As he entered the door of the Rag, a very small but very well-proportioned gentle man — a sort of duodecimo Adonis — stood at the porter's window, and a Buttons was saying, " Mr. Upcombe is not in, sir." " Why, Goly ! " Hugh cried, shaking his tiny hand with enthusiasm, " how are they all at Gath ?

" " I say," replied the little man, " we can't call you David any more ! Where is the rudely complexion ? Where that ingenuous brow which used to mask your precocious depravity ? " " Dead, Goly, as last year's roses — that is, dyed. Come and lunch. How's Blanche ? " he continued, leading the way. "And what sort of a fellow is this noble lord she's going to marry ? When does it come off?" " On the 29th of next month. By the bye, Lord Goding will be a neighbour of yours at Upcombe. You'll see them all in a few days. But, Hugh, what an incredible mess there is about the will. What are you going to do ?" " I'm going to marry the Prophet's daughter, if it can be done with any regard for one's comfort in this world and the next. Don't stare like that. If the family object, there will be some consolation in the family estate.

I'll give you a hint for yourself— don't mention it outside. It's for the sake of my mother and Phœbe. They shall not be genteel paupers any longer if a sacrifice on my part can make them comfortable. Now tell me about yourself and the rest of the royal family." Goly talked of such matters during lunch, but he was preoccupied, and when they ad journed to the smoking-room, he could no longer abstain from reference to the will. " We've been doing our best to find out something about the Prophet John Thurlby, but the result is infinitesimal. You know I went down to Upcombe once, five years ago, to try and see our worthy but invisible uncle. A bond fide Goliath answered the bell, and with difficulty refrained from eating me. After strufscrlin0' with that inclination sue- OO O cessfully, he showed a written order, ' Not at home unless by appointment,' and edged me out.

Next day I received a cheque for £100, but the old gentleman warned me not to come again. Now that bond-fide hero of the Philistines was the Rev. John — so they told me in the village — and a more desperate ruffian I never saw. To suppose that you could marry his daughter is grotesque." " It is just that which remains to be proved. But I can tell you something more about the Prophet. Whilst Corbett and all the rest of you have been inquiring in the regular and business-like way for months, you have learned nothing. I only arrived yesterday, asked a few questions iu this room last night, and I can furnish you with a short biography of the gentleman. I have a system in these matters. Just consider. Five hundred different men visit this club perhaps in a week. Every one of them knows the world more or less, has seen a lot of things and people, and in general can use his eyes.

If you want information about anybody, it would be wiser to post a question in this room — if the committee would let you do it — than to advertise in a dozen newspapers. " Ah ! " sighed Goly, " there's no end to the advantages of being in the Service. Now, if I were to question every dry and budding stick at the " — the distinguished and vir tuous club of which he was a member — " not one of them could tell me anything about anvbody, unless he had been presented or had written a serious book. AVell, what have you discovered ? " A score of men had stopped in passing to welcome Hugh Upcombe with a hearty shake of the hand. A grey old warrior entered just then. " Major Blakeley," Hugh called, as he went by, "this is my cousin, Dick Poynings, who feels a great interest, as you understand, in that story you told me last night.

Would you mind repeating it ? " " Delighted," said Major Blakeley. " Your cousin is a son of my old comrade of the 50th, I think ? " " There ! " Hugh exclaimed. " The information was close at hand, you see, Goly, if your father had gone my way to work ! " Major Blakeley lit a cheroot and began. " John Thurlby was a noted character in our part of Devonshire when I was young. He assisted his father in an auction business — I don't remember where — not in our neigho bourhood. We knew him as a champion at wrestling — and most other games, indeed. A giant he was, but surly, and suspected of playing foul when he got the chance. At one of those countryside meetings which are done away with now, he had the misfortune to kill his man. There was a riot, for the people accused him of unfair play. The coroner made some strong remarks, and so did Sir Henry Villiers when John was brought before the magistrates.

However, he got off. A month afterwards Villiers was thrown from his gig descending Trefick Hill, and broke his neck. That's history, as they say, but gossip has more to tell. Poor Villiers was driving to the cattle market at Bishopstall. Many people were on the road, but none close by. They saw him tumble forward suddenly across the splash-board — his horse kicked and bolted. Before any one could stop it, the brute ran against a corner of the bridge, and shot poor Villiers out. The bed of the Trefick was pretty nearly dry — full of stones ; so he fractured his skull. Well, everybody supposed it a case of apoplexy, or something of that kind. But just before the jury retired, a woman brought her little girl in court, declaring the child had most important evidence to give. So she entered the witness-box.

But our coroner hadn't his match for pig-headedness. The woman was a bad character, and the child didn't exactly know the consequences of per jury. So Arnold blackguarded the mother, and turned them both out of court. A verdict of ' Accidental death ' was delivered. But the story goes that the little girl could have sworn Villiers was struck with a pebble thrown from the top of the hill, and that John Thurlby threw it. He was certainly on the hill, and every one knew that he could throw a stone to a hair's-breadth. That's all I can tell you for certain. John came no more into our parts, but I vaguely recollect hearing that he was a converted character henceforward, and settled at Torquay. Now you tell us some thing, Upcombe. What's the truth of that story about — h'm ! — a lady, in the club at Simla ?

" . . . " Oh, Hugh," cried Goly, when Major Blakeley had left them, " do take me with you, if you go down to the Manor ! I shouldn't be much good, perhaps, if it comes to a fight witli the bond-fide Goliath, though there's, a tale of a lion and a mouse on record, but I have something of a head " " You have — at present, and that's reason enough for avoiding John Thurlby. When I have paid my first visit, we will see. Now for the letter." He seated himself at one of the small tables and wrote — Army and Navy Club, " April 2dth. " My dear Sir " You are aware that my late uncle instructed me in his will to pay you a visit, with the object of making your daughter's acquaintance. I arrived from India yesterday, and of course it is my wish to fulfil his directions as speedily as possible. Will this day week, May 6th, be convenient for you to receive me \ "I do not add any compliments, since our relations are purely business-like at present ; but I hope that they may warm into regard upon personal acquaintance.

" Yours very sincerely, " Hugh Rowsell Upcombe." " I say," cried Goly, " that's pitching it polite with a vengeance after what we've just heard. One may esteem a murderer before knowing him, but the feeling would not warm on acquaintnnce." " I take Mr. Thurlby on my uncle's re commendation ; he must have known him, and evidently he esteemed him. Besides, my son, the wisdom of our ancestors laid down that politeness costs nothing — which is a fair price, since it's worth nothing. Political economists may argue as they please, but I will never' refuse indiscriminate charity in that article. Now, Goly, I suppose you've abandoned the pretence of wanting briefs since you came into money ? " " I never pretended much, Hugh, for fear somebody should take me au serieux. But if any fellow made such a degrading pro position now, I'd kick him, if I could reach."

" That's right — I mean, it suits my purpose for the moment. We'll go to the match — everybody is there ! — and before evening we'll be in the thick of the fun again. Oh, if you stay-at-home fellows could imagine how one longs and pines in India for the amusements which you find a bore, you would say prayers of thankfulness every night of your lives." " Would you change, Hugh ? " asked Goly, as they went out. " Change ! " His eyes opened wide, and then he burst into a roar of laughter. " Change, you funny little man ? Would a hawk change his life for a butterfly's ? I have nine months' leave — married or no, I shall long to be back in the frontier before half of it is over." By return of post came Thurlby 's answer, in a big, thick, determined hand. " Upcombe Manor, "April 30th. " Sir, "Our late Brother, your uncle, compelled me to submit to the arrangement of which you propose to take advantage, by threatening to withdraw his benefactions.

But I did not promise that my daughter would be here to meet the eyes of a debauched soldier. You may come on the 6th if you will. " John Thurlby." Hugh's interest awoke at once ; hitherto he had regarded the circumstances in a matter of-fact point of view. Most pleasantly ex cited, he took the note to Corbett, and dictated a reply. King's Bench Walk, " May 1st. " Sir, " Our client, Mr. Hugh Upcombe, has laid before us your letter of the 30th inst. Is he to understand that you refuse him the opportunity of seeing your daughter ? We apprehend that such a refusal terminates, ipso facto, the condition set forth in Sir John Upcombe's will prescribing our client's marriage with Miss Mabel Thurlby. If that is your meaning, will you kindly put it into formal words ? Or explain your intentions on the subject," etc., etc.

" Now," said Hugh, thoughtfully — he had something worth meditation at last — "I would take short odds that the fellow doesn't send a reply of any sort." " Impossible ! " said Corbett. But Hugh was right. The days passed on, bringing neither a rupture nor an explanation. Corbett wondered and argued over the course to follow in this unforeseen complication, but Hugh never hesitated for a second.

Chapter II. Upcombe Manor

The next few days Hugh spent with his mother and sister, who lived in a very small house at Croydon. One would like to de scribe these ladies — pretty Phœbe in especial — as content and dignified in their poverty. But in truth they represented not the romantic but the actual type of " reduced gentle women." Both longed for Society ; but a tea-party, with the curate and a little music, was the best that Fate allowed them. They dared not aspire to the vicar even. Under such conditions, though they loved Hugh dearly, his arrival was rather a step or move in a most absorbing game than an end in itself — that is, they could not but look beyond it. When the first raptures were over, his chances of succeeding to Upcombe and six thousand a year occupied their whole conversation. Perhaps it was less his prospects than their own that moved them, since they were well assured of a substantial part of Hugh's fortune.

Their impatience, therefore, counted every hour to the 6th, when something at least would be decided. Hugh would accept the estate unless the lady attached to it were a positive Gorgon, if they had their way ; but in the course of endless discussions, they had persuaded themselves that she must be at least presentable. For Sir John was a fine gentleman, a diplomat, a virtuoso, a man of the world in his time. That silly fanaticism could not have affected him to the degree that he would propose a wife for the young head of the family who was actually im possible ; and if he contemplated Hugh's refusal of her as certain, why make the condition— why not leave his property to the Brotherhood direct ? These thoughts had occurred to Hugh himself, and they had some part in keeping up a hopeful spirit ; but the guileless per tinacity which the ladies showed in pressing them home chilled him.

His first act on receiving news of the £15,000 legacy had been to settle one half of it upon Phœbe, his mother receiving the interest for life. The announcement of this proceeding caused a diversion. After brief though warm acknow ledgments, the ladies began to consider thoughtfully to what social rendezvous they should betake themselves, pending more glorious destinies still. To this Hugh left them, under the strictest promise to return direct after seeing Mabel. And so the eventful 6th arrived without further communication from Mr. Thurlby. Goly saw him off, not despairing, until the train actually got under way, of winning permission to go down. The little man's imagination was roused. Hugh had resolved o O to let him come if he himself should stay, but no one must be present at the first interview.

No vehicle awaited him at Bramber Station, though Mr. Thurlby had been warned, and the Manor lay five miles off in a lonely neighbourhood. Hugh left his baggage to be called for, and started afoot. None of us grow blind to the charms of spring ; there are poor wretches who cannot see them, but they were born so. Hugh had been absent long enough to feel the utmost delight which fresh green leaves, and singing birds, and changeful, sunny skies can give. c The road led him through deep, ancient lanes, between high banks clothed with fern and primroses and lichen-covered stumps and beds of weed bright as emerald. Then it passed over a broad heath, up and down steep little hills, where the moss lay inches thick, and the silver beech quivered, and the gorse wore a mantle of gold, young bracken springing beneath its shelter.

On the other side he traversed a wood of firs, rising naked from the bare, black earth, the vista of their trunks uninterrupted unless by some fallen giant. Another lane beyond. Birds everywhere. Now and again a butterfly. A hum of new life in the air : but no sign of human being on the highway. This struck him after a while. Some cottages he had seen at a distance, and a ruinous toll gate, uninhabited, stood by the road itself. But after walking as he judged four miles, the scene became a little livelier — hedges were trimmed, crops were neat, a farm-house appeared on either hand, with buildings in good repair. Hugh regarded the change with interest. Doubtless he had passed the boundary of his uncle's estate on this side. "John Thurlby is a good bailiff anyhow," he said to himself. Upcombe village came into sight at a turn of the road — a pretty old hamlet, remorselessly whitewashed, with a pretty stream running through the midst.

Looking down on it from the top of a gentle hill, Hugh was seized with enthusiasm. " Trout there," he cried, " as sure as there's corn in Egypt ! " And then, somehow, he became aware of a figure at his side. She must have come from the fields while he was absorbed with dreams of trout, and she had heard his exclamation evidently, for a little smile curled her lip — such a shrewd little merry smile, and such sweet lips ! Hugh kept pace an instant, long enough to note from the corner of his eye that the loveliest face he ever beheld was encircled by a close, Quakerish bonnet of dark hue. A clever face as well as lovely, with broad forehead and well-opened eyes, and a firmly-cut mouth, not small, but divinely shaped. Then he paused to let her go ahead, and regaled himself with observing her superb walk.

She was decidedly tall, and he doubted not that her figure must be grand, shrouded though it was from head to foot in dark robes. Among the prognostics which Phœbe had deduced from the circumstances, so far as she knew them, was one dealing with Mabel's appearance. Since her father was a giant- Hugh had told so much — she could not fail to be a very "fine woman." Moreover, it is always probable that a Devonshire or Cornish girl will have an exquisitely clear complexion, though dusky, grey eyes with very long lashes, and dark hair. As for the latter point, Hugh could not discern, for the bonnet hid her hair entirely, but he knew this girl had a lovely dark skin aud eyelashes of extraordinary length. As for her figure, that w7as magnificent indeed. Suppose it were Mabel Thurlby ! Just such a dress one would expect in a sister affiliated to the Bond which is Mystery.

It could scarcely belong to a farmer's daughter, though the young lady carried a basket. Hugh had really been wishing to meet somebody of whom he might ask his road. Why should he not address that harmless inquiry to her ? He quickened his pace. But it was not to be — at the same instant, his eyes and his attention being fixed, some thing "jobbed" him in the face, and, startino back with a military interjection, he beheld a personage in a long black coat preparing to climb a gate by the roadside. A fly-rod it was, thrust far in advance, which had baulked Hugh's purpose. " Beg pardon ! " exclaimed the intruder briefly. " Would you lend me a hand ? " Hugh did so without enthusiasm. " Thank you, young man, thank you ! I can never understand how the same authorities who prescribed our clerical dress could re commend fishing as the clerical relaxation."

The young lady, now well ahead, vanished down a narrow lane on the other side of the road. Hugh replied more cheerfully — " In those remote times the parson took his coat off to fish, I dare say. Have you had any sport ? " " Fair — fair ! A brace worth speaking of — the rest is silence." " Trout, I suppose ? It's five years at least since I saw one. Would you allow me a peep ? " The clergyman paused, grounding his rod like a musket, and looking earnestly in Hugh's face. O " Dear, dear ! Five years ! Now that would be very painful to me. Oh, you're a soldier ? I should think it might be almost as long since I saw a soldier as since you saw a trout. That's curious ! " " Awfully," Hugh replied, keeping his countenance. " The soldier offers himself for your inspection at last. Will you favour him with a glimpse of the trout ?

" " Oh, certainly ! Of course ! Delighted ! " So saying, the clergyman faced about, pre senting simultaneousl}7 his back and his basket. Vastly diverted, Hugh set himself to remove the layers of grass. " You are the rector of Upcombe, sir ? " he asked. " The vicar, the vicar ! — Joyce by name. I don't like the title of reverend, since it has been assumed by the ministers of Mumbo- Jumbo." Hugh suspected a reference to John Thurlby. "What noble fish!" he cried. "You call these worth speaking of? I shovdd say they Avere worth singing in the epic metre ! Are there many such in this stream ? " Mr. Joyce faced round as abruptly as before. " Sir," said he, with intense earnestness, " there are parts of this stream as rich and almost as mythical as the golden city of Manoah, which tempted men to death in former times.

The leviathan of fronts dwelt there, and left his progeny ! They are a species apart ! It is the dream of my waking existence to fish those waters. During thirty years I have lived in the parish, and for fifteen before that, they tell me, no fly has been cast there ! The trout fatten and thrive in wantonness. I do not hesitate to say, sir, that there is no such instance of the abuse of private rights in this poor realm of England ! " " I sympathize with you, Mr. Joyce. Was it Sir John Upcombe who preserved so strictly ? " " It was. For years I had been expect ing his next-of-kin to apply to me, as a magistrate, for an order de lunatico inqui rendo. I should have granted it without discussion." " Indeed ! Was Sir John so evidently out of his mind ? " " What stronger evidence could you have ?

The man who doesn't fish is to be pitied ; but the man who wilfully deprives his fellow creatures of a pleasure sanctioned by the holiest authority must be a malignant maniac. — Not that other evidence was wanting in the case ! Good-day ! " And, to Hugh's dis comfiture, Mr. Joyce turned aside, opened a wicket gate, and passed through. Above the shrubbery, ivy-clad walls and antique gables appeared. It was the parsonage, no doubt. Hugh had been waiting an opportunity to ask who the young lady was, but he had only time to shout — " Am I going right for the Manor ? " " Straight on — straight on !" was the reply from a speaker invisible. More words followed, but indistinct. Hugh almost thought they were " the straight road that leadeth to de struction ! " Cheered and amused, he went on. It was excellent news indeed which Mr. Joyce let fall.

Hugh had been dreading those six months in a lonely house with Anointed Brethren for company. No shooting, no hunt ing, no visiting, of course, with the county people. The vision just now had brightened his prospects, and this assurance of trout actually gilded them. Even if the young lady should not prove to be his destined bride, the visit would not be intolerable. He would make her acquaintance in an innocent way, and, putting the vicar's mythological exagger ations aside, a good stream untouched for forty years must be as full of big trout as the Elysian fields of heroes. Hugh had been an enthusiastic fly-fisher in his boyhood, and the Mahseer had kept him in practice. There was no danger of dullness now, until the 30th of September brought the close of the trouting season — five months out of the six.

A mile beyond the village he came in sight of the Manor, which proved to be a much finer building than he had allowed himself to suppose, but decidedly less cheerful than he hoped. It looked grey and gaunt even on that May day, for the sun was obscured at the moment. The big gates stood open, the lodge was uninhabited ; but Hugh observed with surprise fresh wheel-marks on the gravel. He perceived, in going up the long avenue, that a number of trees had been felled which once masked the building on this side, and the ivy had been torn down. It must have been vastly more picturesque a few years or a few months ago. Beyond doubt, however, Upcombe Manor was a residence of which the long-descended owner might feel proud. Hugh was no judge of architecture, but he could not fail to recognize two very distinct styles.