"He had his teeth into the collie’s paw and there was blood on the bulldog but I’m afraid it was Nero’s".
"I do hope Mr. Vaughan will keep his dogs tied up".
"We can scarcely expect that. I must say he was very decent about it. He gave me a box-stall for Nero for the present".
"And how is Maggie?"
"Right as a trivet. Little bell tinkling and all".
Adeline began to cry. "This dog-fight was the last straw", she declared. "I shall not sleep tonight. Feel my heart".
He laid his hand on her chemise beneath the right breast. "My God", she cried, "it’s not there!" In exasperation she snatched his hand and put it in the right place.
"It beats no faster than usual", he said. "And you obviously are panting to quicken it. Come, my dear, you are quite all right".
"I shan’t sleep tonight!"
But in thirty minutes by the grandfather clock in the hall she was in County Meath with her brothers, though her head was pillowed on Philip’s shoulder.
VIII. The Land
This morning in June was perfect. It seemed that no exquisite detail had been forgotten to ensure that perfection. The turquoise sky arched above the woods, cloudless. The trees themselves stood grand and strong, not crowded as though in struggle for existence, but free to thrust out their roots, to extend their branches in pride. Through their rich foliage the sun poured down upon the dark loam and drew from it such a carpet of moss, fern and wild flower that where was one to step without crushing something fragile and sweet?
There was enough breeze to sway the branches so that in turn light shade and warm sunbeam fell on this variegated growth. The wild grape-vine draped the trunk of an elm which towered so tall, before it sent out a branch, that it seemed to know nothing of what clung so lovingly to its base. A stump became the throne of a pale convolvulus that tossed up a fresh bloom each hour. There were patches of daintily formed moss into which one’s feet sank as into living plush. Then wintergreen spread its glossy mat. Trailing arbutus sent down a delicate root, sent up a waxen bell and pressed on, as though in haste to claim the land for its own. Butterflies flew not by one or two but in bright throngs, sometimes hanging like flowers on a branch, then moving swiftly away, stirred by some subtle but inexorable impulse. They rose above the tree-tops, beat their tiny wings against the azure of the sky, then sank, drawn down by the same invisible guide till they hung on the branch of a maple. The birds at this hour were mostly unseen, living their enthralling life, from the routine of which they never deviated, among the rich green foliage. But their song was heard in every part of the wood, from the clear pipe of the wild canary, the studied cadence of the oriole, to the deep note of the wood-pigeon. As they flew from bough to bough the leaves fluttered and sometimes a pointed wing or a bright breast was revealed. And in their burrows, mole, ground-hog, fox and rabbit reared their young, in complete certainty that theirs was the most important mission of all.
Philip and Adeline were standing on their own land. Philip had a small hamper containing their lunch strapped to his shoulder. Two weeks had passed since their arrival. During that time they had inspected the property, made the necessary visits to government offices, paid the sum demanded, been given the deed with impressive red seals and now could say, "The land is ours".
"It is a paradise!" cried Adeline, turning her head from side to side, "a perfect paradise, and it is ours!"
It was the first time they had visited the place alone. Each time one of the Vaughans or a government agent had come with them. Always there had been boundaries or business of some sort to discuss. But now they were alone. There was no need to talk to the Vaughans, pleasant as they were. They could stand gazing in rapt attention at each new vista that opened up. They could explore like eager children, running here and there, shouting to each other to "Look! Look!" How Adeline deplored her long skirts and remembered her girlhood in Ireland when she would tuck them up and leave her agile legs free. Once, wrestling with one of her brothers, he had torn the skirt clean off her and she had risen in her pantalettes. Oh, the bliss of it! She had leaped and run, higher and faster than any of them. She had been caught and given a whipping but she now recalled the incident with a grin.
"We might be Adam and Eve", said Philip. "We might be the only two people on earth. Upon my soul you’d think the land knew we owned it-it’s so smiling!"
"Philip, my angel, you are a poet!"
"No… but I do feel… well, I can’t explain… I know it sounds ridiculous".
"It isn’t ridiculous. It’s true! Everything has a different air this morning".
"Now you’re going to laugh".
"At what? Not at you being poetical, I promise".
"What I’m thinking is-we’ve got the key of all this… not just the land, you know. But everything".
"Yes. I understand. It’s like being born again".
"I say, Adeline-we’ve come to the ravine from a different angle. Look!"
They stood, shoulder to shoulder, looking down into the green dusk where the stream narrowed and was half hidden in wild honeysuckle and purple iris. Spotted lilies grew there and a pair of blue herons rose, their legs stiff. But Philip and Adeline could not descend the ravine because of the undergrowth. They could only glimpse the river, palely foaming about the great stones that had once rolled down the mossy steep into it.
"Our house must be near the ravine", she said. "I want to be able to walk across a velvety lawn, open a gate, a low broad gate, and make a path down to the stream’s edge".
"We will build a rustic bridge", he said, "across the stream. A path on the far side would lead us back to Vaughanlands, I think".
"You are so good at directions! Now Vaughanlands seems to me in the opposite one".
He took out the compass which was attached to his watch-chain, and consulted it.
"I’m right!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "The Vaughans’ house is straight over there. A bridge across the stream and we should have a short cut to it".
"Shall we ever get all this undergrowth cleared? Good heavens, if the children wander away we shall never find them!"
"We are fortunate in its being a good hard-bush-I believe that’s the proper expression. There’s a great deal of maple, oak, white ash, hickory and so forth. A few strong axes swinging, a few days’ work, and your forest will look like a park".
"How much you know!" she cried admiringly.
"Well, Vaughan has told me a good deal in the past fortnight".
She tugged at his arm. "Come, let’s choose the site for the house!"
"I have a spot in mind. If only I can find it! Vaughan approves of it too. It must be quite near. There’s a sort of natural clearing and a spring".
"Oh, if there’s anything I love, it’s a spring! I shall plant watercress about it and mint and honeysuckle!"
"It is comparatively near the road, too. We must be near the road… Hello-here’s the devil entering our Eden!"
They could see the tall thin figure of a man but he had drawn much nearer before they recognised him as Wilmott. He had remained at an hotel in the town to make enquiries for a suitable habitation for himself. Philip had been to see him when he visited the government offices and had told him of his purchase of a thousand acres. Wilmott had promised to come out to inspect it. He had cast aside the clothes of convention and now wore brown breeches tucked into top-boots, a shirt open at the throat and a wide-brimmed hat. He was a little self-conscious and asked, after greetings had been exchanged:
"How do you think I look?"
"Like the devil", said Philip.
Wilmott was astonished. "Well, I thought I should dress appropriately".