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Chapter XX · A Drop in Infinity

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  Chapter twenty of A Drop in Infinity. This is a LibriVox recording. All
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  LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer,
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  please visit LibriVox dot org. A Drop in Infinity by Gerald Grogan, chapter
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  twenty. Before leaving Limestone Hollow for the second time, I feel an incumbent
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  to give some impression of the place as it appeared in the spring of the
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  year nine, the year of my last great adventure, and the final scene
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  a rather tragic one in some aspects of what I may call the patriarchal epoch
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  of marjorie Land. As I have said before, the Cliff, River and
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  Lake run from northeast to southwest, the so called Eastern Mountain sweeping across at
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  right angles to this major axis and sheltering us pretty effectively from the full effects
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  of the colder winds. Still, Limestone Hollow has rather a northerly aspect,
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  and partly for this reason, but principally on account of the better soil below.
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  I never attempted any cultivation on the ledge, except Marjorie's rose bushes round
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  the house. We still lived in the old house, or rather in a
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  nondescript residence, of which the old house formed the nucleus. But at the
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  same time we had completed the four masonry walls of a new and larger building,
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  whereunto we were in process of adding an upper story of logs. It
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  was a palace compared to our present low roofed, rambling bungalow, and I
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  had been working at it for years. Past cattle pens, pig sties and
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  so forth had been swept, I am thankful to say, to a more
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  suitable spot. Below. Adela's house still stood on its old site, but
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  the stockade had been pulled down, and the timber of it had been applied
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  to other purposes. In front of his premises, Michael now cultivated a little
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  garden in peace and laughed at wolves, for these gentry were beaten. At
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  last, we had gradually built a high wall the upper end of the lake,
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  where the cliff runs almost due north and south and comes within a couple
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  of hundred yards or so of the water. One end of the wall ran
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  into a thick, brambled break at the bottom of the cliff. The other
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  ran out into the water. There was no entry except by the north gate,
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  the site of the north Gate farm. The orchard wall is the remains
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  of our old wall, and we put it to the same purpose, for
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  it made a very convenient shelter. A mile to the southwest, where the
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  cliff again approaches closely to the lake. Just above the outlet of the river,
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  we had erected an abatis of tree trunks with a ditch beyond, and
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  the heads of all the ravines were stoutly stockaded. Except by swimming the lake
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  or falling over the cliff. No wild beast might come to us unbidden.
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  I have drawn a sketch map of the settlement as it looked then. It
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  may be of interest to future generations. We were pretty well off in all
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  worldly goods. We had twelve head of cattle, eight cows, two bulls,
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  and two bullocks for draft purposes. We were able to milk the cows
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  so long as we exercised due caution, and their temper at the moment permitted
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  the feet. We had savage pigs and flying ducks, and ferocious wing clip
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  geese such as would drive the stoutest hearted old world farmer frantic with fear.
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  Several pet wolves through the pigs and cows into a state of acute terror every
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  time they caught sight of them. But Tommy the bear alas had vanished with
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  the guinea pigs. The call of the wild was too much for Tommy when
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  we began to keep wolves on the premises. Nevertheless, the old brute used
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  to come back at times to visit us, always very gentle, although on
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  one occasion he or she turned up with a half grown cub to heal other
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  things, we had nearly all vegetables and garden produce I had known in the
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  old world grew and flourished, and most of my fruit tree slips had turned
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  out well, beehives of bees, honey and butter and cheeses, ducks,
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  eggs and smoked tams, beer and wheat and bread. If we worked hard,
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  we did not starve, and many a poor devil, surrounded by the
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  luxuries of civilization, would have envied us our lot. I often feel I
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  did wrong in not trying to gain a passage for the unemployed when I had
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  the chance. But I doubt the hubble bubble would have listened to me if
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  I had thought to mention it. Also, am I inclined to doubt whether
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  the life would have suited many of them I didn't suit Quelch, so I
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  suppose there might be others. I may say that I attribute most of Queltz's
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  villainy, of which I shall presently speak to bad teeth. He had a
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  good deal of trouble that way, and I think his health was affected,
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  and that made him cantankerous and selfish. Marjorie and even Adela would have me
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  believe that he was a scoundrel of malice prepense, But that is a woman's
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  argument. No man could be such a monster. I prefer to believe,
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  seeing that he behaved fairly well for close on seven years, that an imperfect
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  digestion was the devil's hand hold. In this instance, however, I am
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  wandering from my tail again. Imagine me then, in mid March, reluctantly
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  saying goodbye to a Marjorie somewhat inclined to snibble as I also, and climbing
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  White Cowervine to the edge of the downs. Adela and Bill and Irene came
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  up to see me off, but the others stayed below. At the summit
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  of the cliff, I paused for a moment to gaze down upon our home.
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  It very nearly postponed the trip that look. Had Marjorie been in sight,
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  it could not have done it, but she had crept inside the house
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  to cry. I took great pride in our home made homestead, every bit
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  of which was the work of our own hands, even down to the tools
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  we used to make it, and cultivated and keep it in repair. However,
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  I thought I am only an adjunct now, and turning to Bill,
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  I gave him his instructions. Daddy go ahead, and said Irene complacently.
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  I sincerely hope not, I exclaimed undevoutly, and was rather startled at the
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  suggestion. Why, said Bill, Because I don't want to go at the
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  moment. That's enough for you. Bill bad oh bad reproved Irene the beautiful
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  and hid her blushes on Adela's shoulder. Both she and Bill looked at me
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  doubtfully, and I felt rather nervous. I I would rather wait for mother,
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  I suggested, how would you care to be in heaven by ourselves with
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  no mother? At this thought, Irene began to roar, and William,
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  apparently for company's sake, lent her a hand with rude vocal accompaniment. I
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  turned to Adela in dismay. It's some silliness of Mike's, she explained,
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  letting on, you were sure to be snaffled by the beasts down there.
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  She nodded south, and the kids hurt him. He's been filling them with
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  some rubbish. But he won't do it any more now I spoke to him.
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  She paused and dropped her eyes. Anyhow, she added, don't take
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  chances. You have fire and your bow, which we hadn't, and you
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  have some common sense. Still, it'd be better, in a way if
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  the kids were mind so that she was free to go with you Chewo's company.
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  She thought a little bit more and added, for two pins thought I'd
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  go with you myself. Only I couldn't leave her alone with Mike, not
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  that she's not capable to look after herself, but but the children and all
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  that would be too much. It may be judged rightly that a great change
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  could come over Adela Watkins. She seemed to have expanded in the air of
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  Marjorie Land. It was only of late years I had realized that she was
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  a much larger woman than my wife. She stood very straight and looked one
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  squarely in the face, with the pale blue eyes beneath the flaxen hair and
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  her lips seemed thinner and firmer than of your. She had a queer,
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  independent manner, unlike her husband's pendulum swing from servility to unwonted familiarity, and
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  she had a way of her own with cattle. She was Miss Marjorie's dog
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  and gloried in it. But Miss Marjorie's husband was never anything but thorpe.
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  On the lips of this strange Adela Watkins, we walked a few steps from
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  the edge of the cliff and again faced one another. There was some unspoken
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  question on the air. The trouble with Mike, quoth Adela slowly, is
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  that he don't recognize the tenth commandment. You know why I married him?
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  I do not, I said fervently. It has always been somewhat of a
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  mystery to me. Adela laughed. There was no one else silly, and
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  I can keep him out of mischief anyhow. I'm a wife now, Even
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  of my feelings to Mike aren't exactly in the nature of a blinding passion.
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  If I was a was a mother, I forgive the little beast a good
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  deal. The atmosphere of Marjorie Land is indeed very conducive to frankness, Mike
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  contained Adela steadily never had much not much of a chance in the old world.
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  Neither had I. He was upon broker's assistant, and I was something
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  less honest, if more profitable. She finished, and laughed in my startled
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  face. You needn't look so scared, Thorpe. She knows as she just
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  let me live here and nothing more. I'd have respected her. It's her
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  not despising me that so strange, my miss Marjorie. She kissed Irene's cheek,
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  and the baby nestled to her. I told Quelch some fairy tale,
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  she continued, because a little beggar was flashing his money about on the boat.
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  I was a sort that travels in cobb she laughed again, and I
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  thought I might as well have it as the next one. Mike. The
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  little sweep was under the impression that he was leading an innocent girl astray.
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  It's not hard to persuade a fool like him. I'm ashamed of that piece
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  of business, Thorpe. It wasn't sporting too simple? Shall I put down
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  your child? Mister Thorpe broke off Adela Watkins, but Irene only nestled closer.
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  Don't get nasty Adela, I said, what's good enough for Marjorie is
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  more than that for me, other considerations apart. Besides, I added,
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  I like you personally, so why try to force a quarrel. Well,
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  I got my chance in Constantinople, continued Adela, relenting, and I think
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  we all get one. Mike must have let his slip. It seems to
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  me. I came here, as you know, when I've done my best
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  to be decent. You certainly have. That's as may be. If I'd
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  been like Mike, who imagines nothing's right, which keeps him from what he
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  fancies at the moment, I'd have had another kind of chance to take.
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  How do you mean? I asked, Well, drawled Adela with languid insolence.
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  Don't flatter yourself, Thorpe. But you'd have done me a sight better
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  than him, don't you think? And Mike kept calling me a silly ass
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  for insisting Miss Marjorie couldn't be dead with the axe, lying handy all the
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  time. You're not quite my style, Jack Thorpe. But if I'd had
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  Mike's ideas, I'd have put the ky wash on Mike to marry you.
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  I've got the pluck to have done it, haven't I. I hope Marjorie
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  will not read this part of my story, for I laughed in my turn.
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  You've the makings of a pretty fair devil, Adela, I assured her.
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  But even if my wife hadn't come back, I'd have been too gloomy
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  to make a satisfactory husband. Besides, I said, it'd take time to
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  get over your unhappy Mike. Though. I'll admit you're a fine woman.
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  Thank Heaven, you are religious, Adela. Oh, go on with you,
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  said Adela. She held up the children for me to kiss, and
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  we shook hands. I'll be responsible, she called from the head of the
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  ravine. Do get yourself back safe. That's all a strange woman, but
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  I admired her intensely as I thought of her working out her weird penance as
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  the wife of Mike Qulch. She was far, far too good for him.
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  Then I flushed with pleasure as it occurred to me how deep rooted was
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  Marjorie's own sweetness to have so tamed this wild creature. I cannot imagine how
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  I came to deserve Marjorie myself, but I know she is literally my true
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  better half. I think the old idea of twin souls had something in it
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  after all, although the jawing of idiots gave people a disgust at the subject.
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  Sometimes the twins are evenly matched, but more often one of the two
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  predominates male or female, as the time may agree. Until the goal is
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  reached. I am conscious that Marjorie is a part of me, but I
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  am equally conscious that she is far nearer Heaven than I am. Perhaps wonderful
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  thought, I was once a very good man, and Marjorie was my wicked
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  wife. I think I can detect traces of that epoch. End of Chapter twenty