Middlemarch
unnecessary. He continually deferred the final steps; in the midst of
his fears, like many a man who is in danger of shipwreck or of being
dashed from his carriage by runaway horses, he had a clinging
impression that something would happen to hinder the worst, and that to
spoil his life by a late transplantation might be over-hasty—especially
since it was difficult to account satisfactorily to his wife for the
project of their indefinite exile from the only place where she would
like to live.
Among the affairs Bulstrode had to care for, was the management of the
farm at Stone Court in case of his absence; and on this as well as on
all other matters connected with any houses and land he possessed in or
about Middlemarch, he had consulted Caleb Garth. Like every one else
who had business of that sort, he wanted to get the agent who was more
anxious for his employer’s interests than his own. With regard to Stone
Court, since Bulstrode wished to retain his hold on the stock, and to
have an arrangement by which he himself could, if he chose, resume his
favorite recreation of superintendence, Caleb had advised him not to
trust to a mere bailiff, but to let the land, stock, and implements
yearly, and take a proportionate share of the proceeds.
“May I trust to you to find me a tenant on these terms, Mr. Garth?”
said Bulstrode. “And will you mention to me the yearly sum which would
repay you for managing these affairs which we have discussed together?”
“I’ll think about it,” said Caleb, in his blunt way. “I’ll see how I
can make it out.”
If it had not been that he had to consider Fred Vincy’s future, Mr.
Garth would not probably have been glad of any addition to his work, of
which his wife was always fearing an excess for him as he grew older.
But on quitting Bulstrode after that conversation, a very alluring idea
occurred to him about this said letting of Stone Court. What if
Bulstrode would agree to his placing Fred Vincy there on the
understanding that he, Caleb Garth, should be responsible for the
management? It would be an excellent schooling for Fred; he might make
a modest income there, and still have time left to get knowledge by
helping in other business. He mentioned his notion to Mrs. Garth with
such evident delight that she could not bear to chill his pleasure by
expressing her constant fear of his undertaking too much.
“The lad would be as happy as two,” he said, throwing himself back in
his chair, and looking radiant, “if I could tell him it was all
settled. Think; Susan! His mind had been running on that place for
years before old Featherstone died. And it would be as pretty a turn of
things as could be that he should hold the place in a good industrious
way after all—by his taking to business. For it’s likely enough
Bulstrode might let him go on, and gradually buy the stock. He hasn’t
made up his mind, I can see, whether or not he shall settle somewhere
else as a lasting thing. I never was better pleased with a notion in my
life. And then the children might be married by-and-by, Susan.”
“You will not give any hint of the plan to Fred, until you are sure
that Bulstrode would agree to the plan?” said Mrs. Garth, in a tone of
gentle caution. “And as to marriage, Caleb, we old people need not help
to hasten it.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Caleb, swinging his head aside. “Marriage is a
taming thing. Fred would want less of my bit and bridle. However, I
shall say nothing till I know the ground I’m treading on. I shall speak
to Bulstrode again.”
He took his earliest opportunity of doing so. Bulstrode had anything
but a warm interest in his nephew Fred Vincy, but he had a strong wish
to secure Mr. Garth’s services on many scattered points of business at
which he was sure to be a considerable loser, if they were under less
conscientious management. On that ground he made no objection to Mr.
Garth’s proposal; and there was also another reason why he was not
sorry to give a consent which was to benefit one of the Vincy family.
It was that Mrs. Bulstrode, having heard of Lydgate’s debts, had been
anxious to know whether her husband could not do something for poor
Rosamond, and had been much troubled on learning from him that
Lydgate’s affairs were not easily remediable, and that the wisest plan
was to let them “take their course.” Mrs. Bulstrode had then said for
the first time, “I think you are always a little hard towards my
family, Nicholas. And I am sure I have no reason to deny any of my
relatives. Too worldly they may be, but no one ever had to say that
they were not respectable.”
“My dear Harriet,” said Mr. Bulstrode, wincing under his wife’s eyes,
which were filling with tears, “I have supplied your brother with a
great deal of capital. I cannot be expected to take care of his married
children.”
That seemed to be true, and Mrs. Bulstrode’s remonstrance subsided into
pity for poor Rosamond, whose extravagant education she had always
foreseen the fruits of.
But remembering that dialogue, Mr. Bulstrode felt that when he had to
talk to his wife fully about his plan of quitting Middlemarch, he
should be glad to tell her that he had made an arrangement which might
be for the good of her nephew Fred. At present he had merely mentioned
to her that he thought of shutting up The Shrubs for a few months, and
taking a house on the Southern Coast.
Hence Mr. Garth got the assurance he desired, namely, that in case of
Bulstrode’s departure from Middlemarch for an indefinite time, Fred
Vincy should be allowed to have the tenancy of Stone Court on the terms
proposed.
Caleb was so elated with his hope of this “neat turn” being given to
things, that if his self-control had not been braced by a little
affectionate wifely scolding, he would have betrayed everything to
Mary, wanting “to give the child comfort.” However, he restrained
himself, and kept in strict privacy from Fred certain visits which he
was making to Stone Court, in order to look more thoroughly into the
state of the land and stock, and take a preliminary estimate. He was
certainly more eager in these visits than the probable speed of events
required him to be; but he was stimulated by a fatherly delight in
occupying his mind with this bit of probable happiness which he held in
store like a hidden birthday gift for Fred and Mary.
“But suppose the whole scheme should turn out to be a castle in the
air?” said Mrs. Garth.
“Well, well,” replied Caleb; “the castle will tumble about nobody’s
head.”
CHAPTER LXIX.
“If thou hast heard a word, let it die with thee.”
—_Ecclesiasticus_.
Mr. Bulstrode was still seated in his manager’s room at the Bank, about
three o’clock of the same day on which he had received Lydgate there,
when the clerk entered to say that his horse was waiting, and also that
Mr. Garth was outside and begged to speak with him.
“By all means,” said Bulstrode; and Caleb entered. “Pray sit down, Mr.
Garth,” continued the banker, in his suavest tone.
“I am glad that you arrived just in time to find me here. I know you
count your minutes.”
“Oh,” said Caleb, gently, with a slow swing of his head on one side, as
he seated himself and laid his hat on the floor.
He looked at the ground, leaning forward and letting his long fingers
droop between his legs, while each finger moved in succession, as if it
were sharing some thought which filled his large quiet brow.
Mr. Bulstrode, like every one else who knew Caleb, was used to his
slowness in beginning to speak on any topic which he felt to be
important, and rather expected that he was about to recur to the buying
of some houses in Blindman’s Court, for the sake of pulling them down,
as a sacrifice of property which would be well repaid by the influx of
air and light on that spot. It was by propositions of this kind that
Caleb was sometimes troublesome to his employers; but he had usually
found Bulstrode ready to meet him in projects of improvement, and they
had got on well together. When he spoke again, however, it was to say,
in rather a subdued voice—
“I have just come away from Stone Court, Mr. Bulstrode.”
“You found nothing wrong there, I hope,” said the banker; “I was there
myself yesterday. Abel has done well with the lambs this year.”
“Why, yes,” said Caleb, looking up gravely, “there is something wrong—a
stranger, who is very ill, I think. He wants a doctor, and I came to
tell you of that. His name is Raffles.”
He saw the shock of his words passing through Bulstrode’s frame. On
this subject the banker had thought that his fears were too constantly
on the watch to be taken by surprise; but he had been mistaken.
“Poor wretch!” he said in a compassionate tone, though his lips
trembled a little. “Do you know how he came there?”
“I took him myself,” said Caleb, quietly—“took him up in my gig. He had
got down from the coach, and was walking a little beyond the turning
from the toll-house, and I overtook him. He remembered seeing me with
you once before, at Stone Court, and he asked me to take him on. I saw
he was ill: it seemed to me the right thing to do, to carry him under
shelter. And now I think you should lose no time in getting advice for
him.” Caleb took up his hat from the floor as he ended, and rose slowly
from his seat.
“Certainly,” said Bulstrode, whose mind was very active at this moment.
“Perhaps you will yourself oblige me, Mr. Garth, by calling at Mr.
Lydgate’s as you pass—or stay! he may at this hour probably be at the
Hospital. I will first send my man on the horse there with a note this
instant, and then I will myself ride to Stone Court.”
Bulstrode quickly wrote a note, and went out himself to give the
commission to his man. When he returned, Caleb was standing as before
with one hand on the back of the chair, holding his hat with the other.
In Bulstrode’s mind the dominant thought was, “Perhaps Raffles only
spoke to Garth of his illness. Garth may wonder, as he must have done
before, at this disreputable fellow’s claiming intimacy with me; but he
will know nothing. And he is friendly to me—I can be of use to him.”
He longed for some confirmation of this hopeful conjecture, but to have
asked any question as to what Raffles had said or done would have been
to betray fear.
“I am exceedingly obliged to you, Mr. Garth,” he said, in his usual
tone of politeness. “My servant will be back in a few minutes, and I
shall then go myself to see what can be done for this unfortunate man.
Perhaps you had some other business with me? If so, pray be seated.”
“Thank you,” said Caleb, making a slight gesture with his right hand to
waive the invitation. “I wish to say, Mr. Bulstrode, that I must
request you to put your business into some other hands than mine. I am
obliged to you for your handsome way of meeting me—about the letting of
Stone Court, and all other business. But I must give it up.” A sharp
certainty entered like a stab into Bulstrode’s soul.
“This is sudden, Mr. Garth,” was all he could say at first.
“It is,” said Caleb; “but it is quite fixed. I must give it up.”
He spoke with a firmness which was very gentle, and yet he could see
that Bulstrode seemed to cower under that gentleness, his face looking
dried and his eyes swerving away from the glance which rested on him.
Caleb felt a deep pity for him, but he could have used no pretexts to
account for his resolve, even if they would have been of any use.
“You have been led to this, I apprehend, by some slanders concerning me
uttered by that unhappy creature,” said Bulstrode, anxious now to know
the utmost.
“That is true. I can’t deny that I act upon what I heard from him.”
“You are a conscientious man, Mr. Garth—a man, I trust, who feels
himself accountable to God. You would not wish to injure me by being