Chapter IV: The Carrier's Van

AT last, the Friday came when at eight o'clock in the morning, a brand-new shining covered cart drew up outside Tomina's door, and she took her seat as driver. It was a lovely spring morning. The crowd of villagers who assembled to see the start acknowledged that Tomina was suitably equipped for her position. Her long covert coat and shady straw hat were simple and unassuming. Town people might have recognised the Bond Street cut to the coat, and would have known that the Leghorn hat cost at least three guineas. The tarpaulin of the cart was snowy white, and the black letters across it showed very plainly its destination. The brass harness glittered in the sun. Bran, the horse, reared his head and tossed his great mane, impatient to be off.

At first, Tomina had been afraid that her passengers would be too many. Every housewife in the village wanted to be in the first trip, but she craftily held out the advantages of the following Tuesday, when the rail could be reached, and for sixpence they could visit the county town.

"I must keep some seats for people on the road," she said.

Susan had quite approved of the charge which the doctor had suggested, and it was she who made Tomina take plenty of small change with her, and a big purse from which she could transact her business. She longed to make the first trip herself, but though Tomina begged her to do so, she decided to stay at home.

"You be best by yourself and on your own, without me to look on. I shall hear all about it from Mary Anne!"

Mary Anne was Susan's married sister who lived in the village.

Thor took up his station behind the cart in the orthodox fashion. He had been well trained from a puppy to follow behind a trap.

There was a great deal of chatter and laughter when the women climbed in and took their places. Many Anne was first and foremost. An old woman, Mrs. Crabbe, was going to see her married daughter in Damerton. Mrs. Tabbs and Mrs. Goss were going to the market. They were neighbours, and both mothers of "long" families. A little maid-servant from John Merryweather's farm was spending her "day out." Two young girls, one from the village shop and the other the blacksmith's daughter, and a lanky boy of fifteen with a basket of eggs and four dead fowls in a basket, completed her number.

Tomina cracked her new whip with a flourish. The Rector came out to see her pass, and some children on their way to school raised a cheer.

Through the village they solemnly went, down rather a steep hill, when Tomina had to put on her heavy drag, and then along a pleasant sunny high-road arched by budding trees. Soon the first stop was made. At the corner of another road, the two women with their egg baskets were waiting to be taken up. The chatter inside the van waxed fast and furious.

Tomina sat outside in silence. At times, she studied a pencil list which Susan had thrust into her hands at starting. There were things for her own cottage which she had to get, but also there were commissions from the villagers who had been prevented from coming. The list of these ran as follows:—

2 hand half of unblitched corse.
Mrs. White.

One boiler from Clarks and he ows fourpence to Tom's Bill
larst Wed weeke for cissor ground.
Mary Tubbs.

Plese Miss sorsages and a peece of beef buttock from Andrews Market.
Martha Gadd.

Seven yard of pretty lace for Flories best police.
Jane Hutton.

Pudding bason, butter jar, pennorth yeste and four pennorth
Reckitts blue.
Fanny Spoke.

There were several other household utensils Tomina could not decipher. She puckered her brows in perplexity.

"A carrier's tasks are heavier than I thought. I wish I had brought Susan. But I'll hand over some of these purchases to one of the women inside."

She pocketed the list, threw up her head, and inhaled with delight the cool fresh spring air.

When there was a level bit of road, she put Bran at a trot. When there was a steep hill, she got out and walked, but dared not ask any villager to copy her example, for they were determined to have the full value for their money. Presently, she overtook a man with a heavy pack on his back. He looked like a pedlar.

And as Tomina passed him, he called out a cheery "Good morning."

She stopped.

"Want a lift? We're going to Damerton."

"Ay, and that's my goal. Shall be thankful, but isn't this a new thing? Never saw a carrier on this road before."

He was clambering in as he spoke and took his seat beside Tomina.

"I like the air," he said.

He was a little dark wiry man about middle age, but his eyes reminded Tomina of a robin's; they were so round and bead-like and sparkling.

If he was surprised at the unusual kind of carrier by his side, he did not show it.

"I have had a small stall in the market for my wares," he continued, "and I shan't know myself, to be spared these five miles! Though this may be my last day in these parts. I am moving on to other towns."

"I suppose you're a pedlar?"

"A pedlar of sorts, though they call me a colporteur."

"I don't think I've ever heard of a colporteur," said Tomina, slowly.

He gave her a quick look.

"You're not of these parts, miss. Is it owner of this van you are?"

Tomina smiled at him.

"Yes—my first day. What are your wares?"

"Books, nothing but books; food for the soul and spirit."

"I'm fond of books. Any new novels?"

"There's a book I have which is so interesting, so magnetic, that the more people read it, the more they want to. And though it was written a few thousands of years ago, it's as fresh as spring, and keeps its hold on people's hearts."

"Some of the old classics, I suppose?"

The little man dived into his pack and put a book quietly upon Tomina's knees.

"Have you ever read that book through, from cover to cover?" he asked.

Tomina looked at it, then handed it to him back, with a little grimace.

"The Bible. Well, we hear it in church, don't we? I had one of my own once."

"Have you ever read it through, miss?"

"Not that I know of. I used to learn chapters and psalms at school. I believe I was rather good at Scripture history when I was small."

"Will you take this copy?"

"No, thank you. I'm not at all a good sort of person, and don't want to be one. I never could see anything in religion myself, and hate people who are what I call weekday parsons."

"It's funny—" began the colporteur, and then he stopped.

"Well?"

Tomina glanced curiously at him.

He was getting restive. Suddenly, he blazed out—

"People talk of there being no devil! It's sheer proof of his presence and handiwork, when young gentle things like you scoff at the One Who made them, and sacrificed Himself for them and loves them now with a deep undying love!"

Tomina looked startled. She chirruped to her horse and with her whip flipped some of the early green of the hedges.

"Good people want the young to give up all their pleasures. The God I have heard about is not a God of love, unless you give yourself up to good works and say good-bye to all gaiety and fun."

There was silence. Then the colporteur pointed to a meadow full already of golden shining buttercups.

"That's gay enough," he said, "and good to look at. They've grown up in the sunshine and are reflections of the sun himself. Not much gloom about them, eh?"

Tomina followed his gaze.

"I've no patience with the gloomy mood," he said quickly. "God made a good world and a gay one, and the happy folk are the ones who reflect His face."

"You look happy."

"I am—I have so much to make me. And you?"

Tomina laughed lightly.

"I have been happy on and off, but I'm tired of trying to be when I'm not. I've lost the taste for so many things, and feel as old as the hills. I have been sent into the country to bury myself, but with the purpose of making me pop out of my grave again quite fresh and new."

"A new birth," said the colporteur, gravely.

"That's very interesting!"

"Something of that sort," said Tomina, lightly.

She could not explain to herself why she talked to this man. But she felt he was not an aggressive individual, and his round smiling face amused her.

"'Very' interesting," repeated the colporteur, softly. Then he pointed upwards to some young green limes arching overhead. "There's new birth for you! They had their gay time last summer. Then they died; now the resurrection of spring has got hold of them. Do you know why they're bursting into bud and blossom?"

"Why?"

"The sap is rising inside them. It begins from below, and rises and flows into every bare dry branch and twig, till the barest of them is bound to break and blossom. And you're needing to get the sap, the source of life, into your empty soul and let the Water of Life flow through you. You won't be scoffing at the good if you get it, you'll be bursting with joy and happiness, and blossoming with fruit to come. 'The water that I shall give him, shall be in him a well of water, springing up into everlasting life.'"

The sun shone through the young limes as Tomina looked up through their flickering leaves. Then a diversion occurred. Midway across a field to the right of them stood a low-thatched cottage in the midst of a garden gay with spring bulbs. There was a little wooden gate in the hedge, and at it stood two little ladies, one stout, one thin. They waved a packet of books in the air as Tomina approached them. She pulled up. One of them rather shyly approached her.

"Is the carrier here? We heard the van would pass us about this time for Damerton, and we wondered if he would kindly change these books for us at the library. Saunders the name is."

"I am the carrier," said Tomina, with dignity. "I'll do it with pleasure, unless you'd like to have a lift into Damerton yourselves."

The ladies looked at each other. There was a longing in their eyes, but dignity and conventionalism got the better of it.

"Thank you, no. We have never used the carrier's cart as a personal conveyance. It has not been running for some years. When last it was, we lived in the Rectory and had our own trap and horse. We have put a list of books we should like to have. Mrs. Saunders knows us. And what time will you be coming past here this evening?"

Tomina considered.

"About six o'clock," she said.

Then she drove on. Curiosity compelled her to glance at the books delivered into her keeping. She was surprised to see that there was a modern novel amongst them by a popular writer. A book on the late excavations in Egypt was another, and Maeterlinck's "The Bee" the third.

"They don't rust then," she thought to herself.

There was no more serious conversation between herself and the colporteur. She kept him at bay. When they eventually reached Damerton, he jumped down at the entrance of the market and paid his fare.

"Good day to you, miss. I'm leaving this part of the country this week, but I won't forget you."

He lifted his hat and departed.

Tomina was too busy to give him a thought again. She drove to the "Golden Bell" and put up her van. Her passengers scattered. She told them she was going to start home punctually at five o'clock. Then she got hold of one of the capable women, who good-naturedly offered to get some of the most difficult things on her list.

All the morning she was busy shopping, then she had a comfortable lunch at the "Golden Bell," and afterwards sauntered about the market and town, enjoying herself in a leisurely fashion. She went to the library and got some new books for herself, as well as for the Miss Seatons. And as she was coming out of the shop, she met Miss Merryweather, who shook hands warmly with her.

"May I congratulate you on your venture? It is the talk of the countryside. Are you taking root here, otherwise, isn't it a pity to start something that will have to be dropped?"

"Why should it be dropped? I live in the present, and I never look beyond it. Did you drive in?"

"Yes, with my brother. He comes into Damerton every week, you know."

"I suppose he does. I see you're looking at my books. You won't approve of them, but I've got to let my mind laze down here, so can read nothing solid. And I hope you're doing the same."

Alice Merryweather smiled.

"I feel as if I can read nothing at all at present. But I'm going to order some books for my brother."

"Is he a reader?"

"He used to be."

A shadow fell upon her face; she turned quickly away, and Tomina went out wondering what her choice of books would be.

At five o'clock she was in the yard. She found her van crammed with parcels of all sorts and sizes. Two of the women were sitting inside chattering gaily.

Four extra passengers were waiting to be taken up and dropped on the way. One old man was loquacious with drink. Tomina eyed him severely and insisted upon him sitting at the further end of the van.

"'Tis Jack amongst the maidens I'll be!" he laughed, as he took his seat. "Crowd in, me dears, an' the last maiden, if so be the van is full up, shall sit on Jack's knee. Don't 'ee all try to be the las' one now!"

Tomina ignored his pleasantries, but the women tittered and laughed and thoroughly enjoyed them.

Eleven passengers inside was a tight fit. The lad, Bill Short, sat on the outside seat with Tomina. She began to talk to him and was quite interested in what he told her about himself.

His father had died four months ago. He was only fifteen, but he was running a small poultry farm with his mother.

"I mean to be a farmer, and shan't stop at the bottom of the ladder. I'm saving and putting by every year, and I look to rent one of our Squire's farms in another two years."

"Is he a good landlord?"

"Oh yes—not bad! Sir Alfred's a fair man if he be a bit sharp at times. He's a rare good hand at business. Knows a good deal more than his agent."

When they reached the Miss Seatons' cottage, he volunteered to jump out and take their books up to their door, as there was no sign of them.

"We are a little early," Tomina remarked. "It is difficult to tell the first day how long we take from point to point."

"You ought to have a little chap with you, miss, who can carry parcels in and out. I reckon your custom will increase, and there'll be a good bit of parcel-carrying."

"Yes," said Tomina, thoughtfully, "I think I must."

Bill Short got out halfway to Little Honeycombe. He was going to spend the evening with an uncle of his.

And Tomina found that several of her parcels which had to be delivered on the way necessitated her getting out of the cart herself and delivering them at the doors.

"I shall have a whistle next time," she told the people. "I can't leave my horse to knock at your doors. You must be on the look-out for me."

The last parcel she personally delivered was left at a farm at the top of a steep hill. It was a hamper with live fowls in, and she had to call the man out to take it in. He took his time over it, and as Tomina was giving him some change, she heard a shout and commotion. Looking round, she saw that the old man had clambered from his back seat in the van to the front one, and was belabouring the horse with the whip.

Bran started downhill at a clumsy gallop. Tomina held her breath as she saw the van swaying to and fro, and realised that no brake was on. Then she raced downhill after it, furiously angry at being treated in such a manner and greatly alarmed about the safety of all concerned. Suddenly from a bend in the road, a rider on a big grey horse confronted her.

She stopped with raised hand. Then, as she looked up into his face, the rich colour left her cheeks and lip.

"Tomina! I-er-mean-Miss Gavin!"

"Colonel Norman!"

Then she recovered herself, and said with reckless haste—

"I believe I would welcome the devil himself at this juncture! Ride back and stop that runaway van! Did you not meet it? Stop it, and keep it waiting till I overtake it."

The rider looked at her sternly.

He was a tall broad-shouldered man with clean-cut features, a square and determined mouth and chin, and very thick and bushy eyebrows which almost hid his eyes and gave a fierce expression to his face.

"Do you want a ride in a carrier's cart?"

"I do. The cart belongs to me. Don't waste another moment—that drunken wretch will upset the whole concern."

He wheeled round on his horse with a muttered exclamation and cantered down the hill.

Tomina heaved a sigh of relief and walked after him.

"I shall not hurry. They will have to wait for me. My cup of humiliation is full to have to ask a favour from him! But it was unavoidable. How can he be in this part of the world?"

When she eventually overtook the cart, it was standing still at the bottom of the long hill. Women's heads were crowded together looking out, and two figures were standing in the road. One was Colonel Norman. His left hand was holding his horse by his bridle, the other was clutching the offender by the coat collar, who was nervously crying—

"Only my joke—a little joke, sir. Us be so dull cooped up like pigs in a pen! No harm done. Letsh me go, sir!"

"Now, then, what do you want done with this fellow?" the Colonel demanded, turning to Tomina with a wrathful eye.

Tomina jumped lightly up to her seat and took the reins in her hands.

She ignored the women's gasps and cries, knowing that they were thoroughly enjoying the situation. Then she spoke shortly and severely.

"Leave him where he is. Thank you for your help."

And she drove off without turning her head.

"Ah, my dear soul!" ejaculated old Mrs. Crabbe. "We have been in a terrible fright. But poor old man! It do seem a cruel shame to strand him four miles from home. He lives close to our village."

Tomina said nothing. The women went on talking amongst themselves. One of them asked her if she was feeling all right.

"'Twas a great shame to treat a young lady so! And Will Carpenter do deserve to be put down. But he were mischievously inclined. And I do hope he b'ant offerin' violence to that stranger gent. What a good job you had him to help you, miss! Whatever should us have done if us had a galloped home without you!"

"I think six or seven women ought to have been able to restrain a feeble old man the worse for drink," said Tomina, regally. "But it will be a lesson to me in the future. I shall deliver no more parcels unless the owners come to the cart for them."

The rest of the journey home was uneventful. But when Tomina walked into her small sitting-room, Susan exclaimed at her looks—

"You never can stand such days, ma'am. You look proper fagged out."

"I'll go to bed," said Tomina. "I have nothing else to do but rest when I'm home, thank goodness!"

Later on, when she was in bed and had had a comfortable little meal brought up to her, she told Susan about her misadventure.

Susan was horrified.

"And was Thor no good, ma'am?"

"What could Thor do? He was with me when I left the cart. I only tell you because I know how they talk in the village. It was a mercy they weren't all upset."

Susan looked much concerned, but she wisely offered no consolation. Tomina was too proud to accept such from any one.

She went to sleep that night slightly discomfited, and very determined that she would be stricter with her passengers and parcels in future.