Scenes of Clerical Life: Chapter 17

Chapter 17

When Dempster awoke in the morning, he was at no loss to account to
himself for the fact that Janet was not by his side. His hours of
drunkenness were not cut off from his other hours by any blank wall of
oblivion; he remembered what Janet had done to offend him the evening
before, he remembered what he had done to her at midnight, just as he
would have remembered if he had been consulted about a right of road.

The remembrance gave him a definite ground for the extra ill-humour which
had attended his waking every morning this week, but he would not admit
to himself that it cost him any anxiety. 'Pooh,' he said inwardly, 'she
would go straight to her mother's. She's as timid as a hare; and she'll
never let anybody know about it. She'll be back again before night.'

But it would be as well for the servants not to know anything of the
affair: so he collected the clothes she had taken off the night before,
and threw them into a fire-proof closet of which he always kept the key
in his pocket. When he went down stairs he said to the housemaid, 'Mrs.
Dempster is gone to her mother's; bring in the breakfast.'

The servants, accustomed to hear domestic broils, and to see their
mistress put on her bonnet hastily and go to her mother's, thought it
only something a little worse than usual that she should have gone
thither in consequence of a violent quarrel, either at midnight, or in
the early morning before they were up. The housemaid told the cook what
she supposed had happened; the cook shook her head and said, 'Eh, dear,
dear!' but they both expected to see their mistress back again in an hour
or two.

Dempster, on his return home the evening before, had ordered his man, who
lived away from the house, to bring up his horse and gig from the stables
at ten. After breakfast he said to the housemaid, 'No one need sit up for
me to-night; I shall not be at home till tomorrow evening;' and then he
walked to the office to give some orders, expecting, as he returned, to
see the man waiting with his gig. But though the church clock had struck
ten, no gig was there. In Dempster's mood this was more than enough to
exasperate him. He went in to take his accustomed glass of brandy before
setting out, promising himself the satisfaction of presently thundering
at Dawes for being a few minutes behind his time. An outbreak of temper
towards his man was not common with him; for Dempster, like most
tyrannous people, had that dastardly kind of self-restraint which enabled
him to control his temper where it suited his own convenience to do so;
and feeling the value of Dawes, a steady punctual fellow, he not only
gave him high wages, but usually treated him with exceptional civility.
This morning, however, ill-humour got the better of prudence, and
Dempster was determined to rate him soundly; a resolution for which Dawes
gave him much better ground than he expected. Five minutes, ten minutes,
a quarter of an hour, had passed, and Dempster was setting off to the
stables in a back street to see what was the cause of the delay, when
Dawes appeared with the gig.

'What the devil do you keep me here for?' thundered Dempster, 'kicking my
heels like a beggarly tailor waiting for a carrier's cart? I ordered you
to be here at ten. We might have driven to Whitlow by this time.'

'Why, one o' the traces was welly i' two, an' I had to take it to Brady's
to be mended, an' he didn't get it done i' time.'

'Then why didn't you take it to him last night? Because of your damned
laziness, I suppose. Do you think I give you wages for you to choose your
own hours, and come dawdling up a quarter of an hour after my time?'

'Come, give me good words, will yer?' said Dawes, sulkily. 'I'm not lazy,
nor no man shall call me lazy. I know well anuff what you gi' me wages
for; it's for doin' what yer won't find many men as 'ull do.'

'What, you impudent scoundrel,' said Dempster, getting into the gig, 'you
think you're necessary to me, do you? As if a beastly bucket-carrying
idiot like you wasn't to be got any day. Look out for a new master, then,
who'll pay you for not doing as you're bid.'

Dawe's blood was now fairly up. 'I'll look out for a master as has got a
better charicter nor a lyin', bletherin' drunkard, an' I shouldn't hev to
go fur.'

Dempster, furious, snatched the whip from the socket, and gave Dawes a
cut which he meant to fall across his shoulders saying, 'Take that, sir,
and go to hell with you!'

Dawes was in the act of turning with the reins in his hand when the lash
fell, and the cut went across his face. With white lips, he said, 'I'll
have the law on yer for that, lawyer as y'are,' and threw the reins on
the horse's back.

Dempster leaned forward, seized the reins, and drove off.

'Why, there's your friend Dempster driving out without his man again,'
said Mr. Luke Byles, who was chatting with Mr. Budd in the Bridge Way.
'What a fool he is to drive that two-wheeled thing! he'll get pitched on
his head one of these days.'

'Not he,' said Mr. Budd, nodding to Dempster as he passed 'he's got nine
lives, Dempster has.'

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