The Well, Page 2
W. W. Jacobs
Truth," said Olive lightly. "Come along."
She ran from him and was lost in the shadow of the pines, the brackencrackling beneath her feet as she ran. Her companion followed slowly,and emerging from the gloom saw her poised daintily on the edge of thewell with her feet hidden in the rank grass and nettles which surroundedit. She motioned her companion to take a seat by her side, and smiledsoftly as she felt a strong arm passed about her waist.
"I like this place," said she, breaking a long silence, "it is so dismal--so uncanny. Do you know I wouldn't dare to sit here alone, Jem. Ishould imagine that all sorts of dreadful things were hidden behind thebushes and trees, waiting to spring out on me. Ugh!"
"You'd better let me take you in," said her companion tenderly; "the wellisn't always wholesome, especially in the hot weather.
"Let's make a move."
The girl gave an obstinate little shake, and settled herself moresecurely on her seat.
"Smoke your cigar in peace," she said quietly. "I am settled here for aquiet talk. Has anything been heard of Wilfred yet?"
"Nothing."
"Quite a dramatic disappearance, isn't it?" she continued. "Anotherscrape, I suppose, and another letter for you in the same old strain;'Dear Jem, help me out.'"
Jem Benson blew a cloud of fragrant smoke into the air, and holding hiscigar between his teeth brushed away the ash from his coat sleeves.
"I wonder what he would have done without you," said the girl, pressinghis arm affectionately. "Gone under long ago, I suppose. When we aremarried, Jem, I shall presume upon the relationship to lecture him. Heis very wild, but he has his good points, poor fellow."
"I never saw them," said Benson, with startling bitterness. "God knows Inever saw them."
"He is nobody's enemy but his own," said the girl, startled by thisoutburst.
"You don't know much about him," said the other, sharply. "He was notabove blackmail; not above ruining the life of a friend to do himself abenefit. A loafer, a cur, and a liar!"
The girl looked up at him soberly but timidly and took his arm without aword, and they both sat silent while evening deepened into night and thebeams of the moon, filtering through the branches, surrounded them with asilver network. Her head sank upon his shoulder, till suddenly with asharp cry she sprang to her feet.
"What was that?" she cried breathlessly.
"What was what?" demanded Benson, springing up and clutching her fast bythe arm.
She caught her breath and tried to laugh.
"You're hurting me, Jem."
His hold relaxed.
"What is the matter?" he asked gently.
"What was it startled you?"
"I was startled," she said, slowly, putting her hands on his shoulder."I suppose the words I used just now are ringing in my ears, but Ifancied that somebody behind us whispered 'Jem, help me out.'"
"Fancy," repeated Benson, and his voice shook; "but these fancies are notgood for you. You--are frightened--at the dark and the gloom of thesetrees. Let me take you back to the house."
"No, I'm not frightened," said the girl, reseating herself. "I shouldnever be really frightened of anything when you were with me, Jem. I'msurprised at myself for being so silly."
The man made no reply but stood, a strong, dark figure, a yard or twofrom the well, as though waiting for her to join him.
"Come and sit down, sir," cried Olive, patting the brickwork with hersmall, white hand, "one would think that you did not like your company."
He obeyed slowly and took a seat by her side, drawing so hard at hiscigar that the light of it shone upon his fare at every breath. Hepassed his arm, firm and rigid as steel, behind her, with his handresting on the brickwork beyond.
"Are you warm enough?" he asked tenderly, as she made a little movement."Pretty fair," she shivered; "one oughtn't to be cold at this time of theyear, but there's a cold, damp air comes up from the well."
As she spoke a faint splash sounded from the depths below, and for thesecond time that evening, she sprang from the well with a little cry ofdismay.
"What is it now?" he asked in a fearful voice. He stood by her side andgazed at the well, as though half expecting to see the cause of her alarmemerge from it.
"Oh, my bracelet," she cried in distress, "my poor mother's bracelet.I've dropped it down the well."
"Your bracelet!" repeated Benson, dully. "Your bracelet? The diamondone?"
"The one that was my mother's," said Olive. "Oh, we can get it backsurely. We must have the water drained off."
"Your bracelet!" repeated Benson, stupidly.
"Jem," said the girl in terrified tones, "dear Jem, what is the matter?"
For the man she loved was standing regarding her with horror. The moonwhich touched it was not responsible for all the whiteness of thedistorted face, and she shrank back in fear to the edge of the well. Hesaw her fear and by a mighty effort regained his composure and took herhand.
"Poor little girl," he murmured, "you frightened me. I was not lookingwhen you cried, and I thought that you were slipping from my arms,down--down--"
His voice broke, and the girl throwing herself into his arms clung to himconvulsively.
"There, there," said Benson, fondly, "don't cry, don't cry."
"To-morrow," said Olive, half-laughing, half-crying, "we will all comeround the well with hook and line and fish for it. It will be quite anew sport."
"No, we must try some other way," said Benson. "You shall have it back."
"How?" asked the girl.
"You shall see," said Benson. "To-morrow morning at latest you shallhave it back. Till then promise me that you will not mention your lossto anyone. Promise."
"I promise," said Olive, wonderingly. "But why not?"
"It is of great value, for one thing, and--But there--there are manyreasons. For one thing it is my duty to get it for you."
"Wouldn't you like to jump down for it?" she asked mischievously."Listen."
She stooped for a stone and dropped it down.
"Fancy being where that is now," she said, peering into the blackness;"fancy going round and round like a mouse in a pail, clutching at theslimy sides, with the water filling your mouth, and looking up to thelittle patch of sky above."
"You had better come in," said Benson, very quietly. "You are developinga taste for the morbid and horrible."
The girl turned, and taking his arm walked slowly in the direction of thehouse; Mrs. Benson, who was sitting in the porch, rose to receive them.
"You shouldn't have kept her out so long," she said chidingly. "Wherehave you been?"
"Sitting on the well," said Olive, smiling, "discussing our future."
"I don't believe that place is healthy," said Mrs. Benson, emphatically."I really think it might be filled in, Jem."
"All right," said her son, slowly. "Pity it wasn't filled in long ago."
He took the chair vacated by his mother as she entered the house withOlive, and with his hands hanging limply over the sides sat in deepthought. After a time he rose, and going upstairs to a room which wasset apart for sporting requisites selected a sea fishing line and somehooks and stole softly downstairs again. He walked swiftly across thepark in the direction of the well, turning before he entered the shadowof the trees to look back at the lighted windows of the house. Thenhaving arranged his line he sat on the edge of the well and cautiouslylowered it.
He sat with his lips compressed, occasionally looking about him in astartled fashion, as though he half expected to see something peering athim from the belt of trees. Time after time he lowered his line until atlength in pulling it up he heard a little metallic tinkle against theside of the well.
He held his breath then, and forgetting his fears drew the line in inchby inch, so as not to lose its precious burden. His pulse beat rapidly,and his eyes were bright. As the line came slowly in he saw the catchhanging to the hook, and with a steady hand drew the last few feet in.Then he saw that instead of the b
racelet he had hooked a bunch of keys.
With a faint cry he shook them from the hook into the water below, andstood breathing heavily. Not a sound broke the stillness of the night.He walked up and down a bit and stretched his great muscles; then he cameback to the well and resumed his task.
For an hour or more the line was lowered without result. In hiseagerness he forgot his fears, and with eyes bent down the well fishedslowly and carefully. Twice the hook became
She ran from him and was lost in the shadow of the pines, the brackencrackling beneath her feet as she ran. Her companion followed slowly,and emerging from the gloom saw her poised daintily on the edge of thewell with her feet hidden in the rank grass and nettles which surroundedit. She motioned her companion to take a seat by her side, and smiledsoftly as she felt a strong arm passed about her waist.
"I like this place," said she, breaking a long silence, "it is so dismal--so uncanny. Do you know I wouldn't dare to sit here alone, Jem. Ishould imagine that all sorts of dreadful things were hidden behind thebushes and trees, waiting to spring out on me. Ugh!"
"You'd better let me take you in," said her companion tenderly; "the wellisn't always wholesome, especially in the hot weather.
"Let's make a move."
The girl gave an obstinate little shake, and settled herself moresecurely on her seat.
"Smoke your cigar in peace," she said quietly. "I am settled here for aquiet talk. Has anything been heard of Wilfred yet?"
"Nothing."
"Quite a dramatic disappearance, isn't it?" she continued. "Anotherscrape, I suppose, and another letter for you in the same old strain;'Dear Jem, help me out.'"
Jem Benson blew a cloud of fragrant smoke into the air, and holding hiscigar between his teeth brushed away the ash from his coat sleeves.
"I wonder what he would have done without you," said the girl, pressinghis arm affectionately. "Gone under long ago, I suppose. When we aremarried, Jem, I shall presume upon the relationship to lecture him. Heis very wild, but he has his good points, poor fellow."
"I never saw them," said Benson, with startling bitterness. "God knows Inever saw them."
"He is nobody's enemy but his own," said the girl, startled by thisoutburst.
"You don't know much about him," said the other, sharply. "He was notabove blackmail; not above ruining the life of a friend to do himself abenefit. A loafer, a cur, and a liar!"
The girl looked up at him soberly but timidly and took his arm without aword, and they both sat silent while evening deepened into night and thebeams of the moon, filtering through the branches, surrounded them with asilver network. Her head sank upon his shoulder, till suddenly with asharp cry she sprang to her feet.
"What was that?" she cried breathlessly.
"What was what?" demanded Benson, springing up and clutching her fast bythe arm.
She caught her breath and tried to laugh.
"You're hurting me, Jem."
His hold relaxed.
"What is the matter?" he asked gently.
"What was it startled you?"
"I was startled," she said, slowly, putting her hands on his shoulder."I suppose the words I used just now are ringing in my ears, but Ifancied that somebody behind us whispered 'Jem, help me out.'"
"Fancy," repeated Benson, and his voice shook; "but these fancies are notgood for you. You--are frightened--at the dark and the gloom of thesetrees. Let me take you back to the house."
"No, I'm not frightened," said the girl, reseating herself. "I shouldnever be really frightened of anything when you were with me, Jem. I'msurprised at myself for being so silly."
The man made no reply but stood, a strong, dark figure, a yard or twofrom the well, as though waiting for her to join him.
"Come and sit down, sir," cried Olive, patting the brickwork with hersmall, white hand, "one would think that you did not like your company."
He obeyed slowly and took a seat by her side, drawing so hard at hiscigar that the light of it shone upon his fare at every breath. Hepassed his arm, firm and rigid as steel, behind her, with his handresting on the brickwork beyond.
"Are you warm enough?" he asked tenderly, as she made a little movement."Pretty fair," she shivered; "one oughtn't to be cold at this time of theyear, but there's a cold, damp air comes up from the well."
As she spoke a faint splash sounded from the depths below, and for thesecond time that evening, she sprang from the well with a little cry ofdismay.
"What is it now?" he asked in a fearful voice. He stood by her side andgazed at the well, as though half expecting to see the cause of her alarmemerge from it.
"Oh, my bracelet," she cried in distress, "my poor mother's bracelet.I've dropped it down the well."
"Your bracelet!" repeated Benson, dully. "Your bracelet? The diamondone?"
"The one that was my mother's," said Olive. "Oh, we can get it backsurely. We must have the water drained off."
"Your bracelet!" repeated Benson, stupidly.
"Jem," said the girl in terrified tones, "dear Jem, what is the matter?"
For the man she loved was standing regarding her with horror. The moonwhich touched it was not responsible for all the whiteness of thedistorted face, and she shrank back in fear to the edge of the well. Hesaw her fear and by a mighty effort regained his composure and took herhand.
"Poor little girl," he murmured, "you frightened me. I was not lookingwhen you cried, and I thought that you were slipping from my arms,down--down--"
His voice broke, and the girl throwing herself into his arms clung to himconvulsively.
"There, there," said Benson, fondly, "don't cry, don't cry."
"To-morrow," said Olive, half-laughing, half-crying, "we will all comeround the well with hook and line and fish for it. It will be quite anew sport."
"No, we must try some other way," said Benson. "You shall have it back."
"How?" asked the girl.
"You shall see," said Benson. "To-morrow morning at latest you shallhave it back. Till then promise me that you will not mention your lossto anyone. Promise."
"I promise," said Olive, wonderingly. "But why not?"
"It is of great value, for one thing, and--But there--there are manyreasons. For one thing it is my duty to get it for you."
"Wouldn't you like to jump down for it?" she asked mischievously."Listen."
She stooped for a stone and dropped it down.
"Fancy being where that is now," she said, peering into the blackness;"fancy going round and round like a mouse in a pail, clutching at theslimy sides, with the water filling your mouth, and looking up to thelittle patch of sky above."
"You had better come in," said Benson, very quietly. "You are developinga taste for the morbid and horrible."
The girl turned, and taking his arm walked slowly in the direction of thehouse; Mrs. Benson, who was sitting in the porch, rose to receive them.
"You shouldn't have kept her out so long," she said chidingly. "Wherehave you been?"
"Sitting on the well," said Olive, smiling, "discussing our future."
"I don't believe that place is healthy," said Mrs. Benson, emphatically."I really think it might be filled in, Jem."
"All right," said her son, slowly. "Pity it wasn't filled in long ago."
He took the chair vacated by his mother as she entered the house withOlive, and with his hands hanging limply over the sides sat in deepthought. After a time he rose, and going upstairs to a room which wasset apart for sporting requisites selected a sea fishing line and somehooks and stole softly downstairs again. He walked swiftly across thepark in the direction of the well, turning before he entered the shadowof the trees to look back at the lighted windows of the house. Thenhaving arranged his line he sat on the edge of the well and cautiouslylowered it.
He sat with his lips compressed, occasionally looking about him in astartled fashion, as though he half expected to see something peering athim from the belt of trees. Time after time he lowered his line until atlength in pulling it up he heard a little metallic tinkle against theside of the well.
He held his breath then, and forgetting his fears drew the line in inchby inch, so as not to lose its precious burden. His pulse beat rapidly,and his eyes were bright. As the line came slowly in he saw the catchhanging to the hook, and with a steady hand drew the last few feet in.Then he saw that instead of the b
racelet he had hooked a bunch of keys.
With a faint cry he shook them from the hook into the water below, andstood breathing heavily. Not a sound broke the stillness of the night.He walked up and down a bit and stretched his great muscles; then he cameback to the well and resumed his task.
For an hour or more the line was lowered without result. In hiseagerness he forgot his fears, and with eyes bent down the well fishedslowly and carefully. Twice the hook became
