The Unknown Shore Read Free Page A

capable of gratitude.’
    ‘Are they not, ma’am?’ asked Jack.
    ‘Perhaps they are, my dear,’ said Mrs Chaworth, closing her eyes, ‘but with these words he passed a very large toad to Mrs Jerningham – Mrs
Charles
Jerningham – and desired her to caress it. Mrs Jerningham was obliged to be led away and recovered with sal volatile in the small drawing-room. My dear, unequal friendships never answer, as your grandfather often used to say.’
    Mrs Chaworth did not forbid the association, but she dropped a gentle drizzle of disapproval upon it, and she would have been happy to see it die away, particularly on Georgiana’s account. This young creature, the prettiest of her daughters, was passionately attached to her cousin Jack and even more so to Tobias: she played cricket with them, tirelessly fielding while Tobias bowled and Jack batted, and a primitive kind of baseball; she climbed trees, whistled and shouted in a manner that distressed her elegant mother, and cherished hedgepigs (presents from Tobias) in her bedroom.
    When Mrs Chaworth objected to his strangeness she referred not only to qualities that were produced by his nurture but also to some that were born in him; for example, he had a strange power with animals, however wild, and sometimes (though not always) he could call them to him over great distances; he had always handled bees without any protection, and since his earliest days he had been reputed a horse-witch. Clearly a budding horse-witch, however fluentin Greek, was not an ideal playmate for Georgiana: the family intended to marry Georgiana to Lord Carlisle, and Mrs Chaworth did not wish to hear any adverse criticism from the young man’s mother about Georgiana’s bringing-up: she often said to her daughter, ‘Lard, Georgiana, what an ill-looking fellow poor Toby has become; and will grow even worse, alas.’
    And however Georgiana might snort and cry ‘I do not mind it,’ not even she could claim that Tobias Barrow was in any way a beauty. He was meagre, narrow-chested and stooping; his dull black hair made his white face even paler, while at the same time it made a startling contrast with his almost colourless light green eyes. To an unaccustomed eye it was a face so strange as to be almost sinister – Mrs Ellis, upon contemplating it for the first time, had been struck dumb; which is saying a great deal. It was in no way a boy’s face, and no one, looking at it, would ever have expected to see it moved by a boyish spirit. And then he had so early grown accustomed to loneliness and learning that he had slipped into odd, graceless habits; he would make sudden untoward gestures, forgetting his company – he would distort his face in thought, grind his teeth, and sometimes utter a low hooting noise. He washed only when he felt need of it, shifted his linen rarely, and always wore black clothes.
    Jack could see him now, a slight dark figure running towards him through the trees. Jack smiled to see him coming, put up his hand after the fashion of sailors, and hailed him very loud and clear, ‘Ahoy.’
    The bats instantly fell into a petrified silence. ‘There you are, Toby,’ said Jack; and to this valuable observation he added, ‘Why are you running?’ For it was a rare thing to see Tobias running.
    ‘Jack,’ said Tobias, ‘I am very happy to see you. I am very glad you have come.’
    ‘Why, what’s the matter?’ asked Jack, staring. It was clear to him that his friend was strongly moved: he was flushed, and he was breathing hard.
    ‘I tell you what it is, Jack,’ said Tobias, gripping his arm and looking up into his face with great anxiety. ‘You must give me your advice. I am going to run away to sea.’

Chapter Two
    W HEN THE L ONDON ROAD leaves Mangonell Bagpize it plunges down a hill so steep that horses must be led. The bottom of the hill was a favourite place with highwaymen, because coaches coming or going were obliged to be almost at a standstill there – highwaymen