5. CHAPTER V.
DRAINAGE.
Harley was leaning back in his arm-chair when steps were heard
in the hall without, and these steps approached and stopped at the
door of the room.
“Come in, Saunders, my good old friend,” said Harley, as the
door opened, and, rising, he cordially grasped the hand of the new-comer—a
gray-haired old man, in plain clothes, with a face full of
honesty and good-feeling.
“Welcome back, Mr. Justin—welcome back,” said old Saunders,
warmly; “you've been gone this many a year, Mr. Justin!”
“Too long for the good of the land, Saunders; but sit down, my
friend—I wish to talk with you about a great many things.”
Saunders sat down, depositing his broad-brimmed hat upon the
floor, and wiping his forehead. Harley then proceeded to ask
him a multitude of questions in reference to the estate, the health
of the servants, and “business” generally. The replies of the old
manager—who had served the father first, and now served the
son—were not very encouraging.
“And so the estate is seriously embarrassed,” said Harley, coolly.
Saunders uttered a sort of sigh, and said:
“Things are going bad, Mr. Justin, and if you'll let me say it, you
have spent a load of money in furrin parts, Mr. Justin.”
“True—I should have stayed at home. The estate is a fine one,
but money melts in travelling. I have sent home bills of exchange
from every capital in Europe for you to pay, my good friend; and
such a system is dangerous, Saunders.”
“Dang'rous is the very word, Mr. Justin!”
“The last amount sent—that was raised on mortgage, as I directed
from Munich?'
“Yes, Mr. Justin. Hicks lent it—the tobacco failed, you know.”
“Yes—well. We owe now more than five thousands pounds, do
we not?”
“Five thousand one hundred and thirty-three pounds eleven
shillings and sixpence, with the interest from—”
“Well, I will look at the papers; bring them here to-morrow, my
old friend. I have no doubt all is set down, and I doubt if you
have paid yourself what is due you. What presses now is to fix
upon some means of relieving the estate. You know my great
object—to transmit it to my dear Sainty free from debt.”
“Mr. Justin,” said the old man.
“Well, Saunders?”
“Why not marry, yourself? There's enough for Mr. Sainty and
—your children.”
“I have no intention of marrying,” said Harley, coolly, “not the
least in the world; and now let us come back to the subject. I have
thought of a means of paying this money we owe, and doubling
the value of the property.”
Saunders raised his head with extreme animation.
“What way, Mr. Justin? They do say, in the old country,”
(Saunders meant England,) “they are making bad land rich by new
sorts of manures.”
“And drainage.”
“Drainage, Mr. Justin?”
“Thousands of acres, especially in Lincolnshire, are annually
brought under cultivation and grow rich crops—land that before
was mere marsh, and worthless.”
“But, Mr. Justin—”
“Let me finish, as I must ride in half-an-hour, Saunders. How
many acres in my tract, the Blackwater Swamp?”
“By survey, five thousand seven hundred and thirteen and
three-quarter acres, Mr. Justin.”
“So that, if we could bring this tract under cultivation, and clear
one pound sterling an acre the first year, the debt of five thousand
pounds would be paid?”
“But, Mr. Justin—”
“The land is rich, is it not?',
“Where it's out of water it will bring anything—black loam,”
said Saunders.
“I think I will drain it.”
At this statement, Saunders gazed with astonishment at the
speaker, and then shook his head.
“It can't be done, Mr. Justin. It would take ten fortunes. It will
come to nothing.”
“My uncle George was a prudent man, Saunders.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, he was in favor of the scheme.”
“Your uncle George Hartright?”
“Yes.”
“Why, Mr. Justin! the very word drainage sickened Mr. Hartright
after he tried the Glenvale meadows; and he told me only
one month ago that he would not give a shilling for the whole
Blackwater tract.”
“He told you that?”
“He did indeed, Mr. Justin!”
This statement seemed to puzzle Harley immensly. He rose,
walked up and down, and then came back to his seat.
“Very well, my good Saunders,” he said. “This is a matter we
will talk about in future. I will think of it and decide what we will
do. I have an engagement with Colonel Hartright this morning.
My uncle's will is to be opened to-day.”
Saunders had taken his broad-brimmed hat from the floor, and
now stood up.
“I hope you are pleased with the look of things, Mr. Justin,” he
said. “I had the house opened from top to bottom and aired,
after you rode out, when you first came?”
“Thank you, Saunders. I find everything in excellent order.”
“The pink room was not opened. No key could be found, and
the shutters—”
Harley turned his head quickly, and looked straight at the
speaker.
“It may remain shut up—I do not require it,” he said.
“The largest chamber in the house, Mr. Justin, and the finest—
on the first floor, too.”
Harley made a motion with his hand.
“I prefer a smaller one,” he said. “Oblige me, as you go out,
by ordering my horse.”
“Yes, Mr. Justin.”
Saunders went out, wondering a little at the sudden change in
the voice of Harley, and his strange look. He had taken but a
few steps, when the hand of the younger man was laid upon his
shoulder.
“I have not said—and yet I should have said—that I am more
than satisfied, my old friend, with your management of my affairs.
I knew that you were intelligent and faithful. I have no other
friend like yourself. Thanks! And now time presses. Will you
order Ajax to be saddled and brought round at once?”
