he had talked to Grimshaw and, walking into the large walled-in-garden, the Marquis saw him at the far end of it.
He certainly had no complaints about the garden itself. It was a model of neatness with every possible inch cultivated.
Even the panes of the greenhouses seemed to gleam in the sunshine as if they were exceptionally clean and the fruit trees looked as if they were regimented into producing larger and more colourful fruit than any trees the Marquis had ever seen before.
Grimshaw looked much older than the Marquis remembered, but he was obviously pleased to see him.
“It be a sight for sore eyes, my Lord, a-seein’ you after all these years!” he said, speaking his soft Sussex accent.
“I am glad to be back,” the Marquis replied simply, “and I must congratulate you, Grimshaw on the garden. I have never seen it look more beautiful or in better trim.”
“I’m glad your Lordship be pleased.”
“I cannot think how you have managed it when I understand for the last year or two of the war it was very difficult to find men.”
“That might be true for some, my Lord, but not for us.”
“Why not?” the Marquis enquired.
“Mr. Markham has managed to provide me with workers, one way or another.”
“How did he manage to do that?” the Marquis asked.
“At first, my Lord, they were always incapacitated. ‘The ’alt, the lame and the blind!’ I used to say, laughin’-like. Even so, I gets some good work out of ’em.”
“Are you telling me,” the Marquis said, “that the men you have been employing are men who have been wounded in the war?”
“Yes, my Lord. Sailors, but they be willin’ to work rather than starve and work I managed t’ make ’em do!”
The Marquis did not reply and Grimshaw went on,
“Of course, since the peace, my Lord, we’ve ’ad whole men, so to speak. Nothin’ wrong with them, except many as never seen a spade nor an ’oe in ’is life. I teach ’em first and though they sometimes grumbles at becomin’ landlubbers, as they calls it, they be too glad to be employed to be particular.”
“I must congratulate you once again on what you have achieved,” the Marquis said. “Thank you, Grimshaw.”
He was turning away when a thought struck him.
“By the way,” he said, “how many men have you working under you at this particular moment?”
“Sixteen, my Lord.”
The Marquis walked back along the neat path between the vegetable beds with Anthony beside him.
“Cast-offs from the Navy!” he remarked in a low voice. “First those who had been wounded, then since April the men who are being made redundant.”
“I have heard there are plenty of those,” Anthony said. “In fact someone at the Club was saying only last week that we are disarming at an almost indecent speed.”
The Marquis nodded.
“I heard Lord St. Vincent speak in the House of Lords,” he said ruminatively. “He was absolutely insistent on drastic economies in Naval administration.”
“I heard a worse story, now I think about it,” Anthony said, “I was told that, while all our ships are crying out for repairs, the dockyard hands have been dismissed, contracts with private yards withdrawn and surplus stores sold off – in some cases to French agents!”
At this the Marquis stopped still to stare at his friend.
“And it was you who told me the other day that we need not be afraid of Bonaparte!” he said accusingly. “I am sure he is replenishing his empty dockyards and building ships at all possible speed.”
“Now you are trying to make my flesh creep,” Anthony retorted. “Go back to your sleuthing and remember you, at any rate, have benefited by having almost a ship’s company working on your garden!”
The Marquis did not reply. He was obviously deep in thought as they walked back towards the house.
By now it was luncheontime and, before they went into the dining room, the Marquis said,
“Not a word in front of Travers of what we have discovered this
He certainly had no complaints about the garden itself. It was a model of neatness with every possible inch cultivated.
Even the panes of the greenhouses seemed to gleam in the sunshine as if they were exceptionally clean and the fruit trees looked as if they were regimented into producing larger and more colourful fruit than any trees the Marquis had ever seen before.
Grimshaw looked much older than the Marquis remembered, but he was obviously pleased to see him.
“It be a sight for sore eyes, my Lord, a-seein’ you after all these years!” he said, speaking his soft Sussex accent.
“I am glad to be back,” the Marquis replied simply, “and I must congratulate you, Grimshaw on the garden. I have never seen it look more beautiful or in better trim.”
“I’m glad your Lordship be pleased.”
“I cannot think how you have managed it when I understand for the last year or two of the war it was very difficult to find men.”
“That might be true for some, my Lord, but not for us.”
“Why not?” the Marquis enquired.
“Mr. Markham has managed to provide me with workers, one way or another.”
“How did he manage to do that?” the Marquis asked.
“At first, my Lord, they were always incapacitated. ‘The ’alt, the lame and the blind!’ I used to say, laughin’-like. Even so, I gets some good work out of ’em.”
“Are you telling me,” the Marquis said, “that the men you have been employing are men who have been wounded in the war?”
“Yes, my Lord. Sailors, but they be willin’ to work rather than starve and work I managed t’ make ’em do!”
The Marquis did not reply and Grimshaw went on,
“Of course, since the peace, my Lord, we’ve ’ad whole men, so to speak. Nothin’ wrong with them, except many as never seen a spade nor an ’oe in ’is life. I teach ’em first and though they sometimes grumbles at becomin’ landlubbers, as they calls it, they be too glad to be employed to be particular.”
“I must congratulate you once again on what you have achieved,” the Marquis said. “Thank you, Grimshaw.”
He was turning away when a thought struck him.
“By the way,” he said, “how many men have you working under you at this particular moment?”
“Sixteen, my Lord.”
The Marquis walked back along the neat path between the vegetable beds with Anthony beside him.
“Cast-offs from the Navy!” he remarked in a low voice. “First those who had been wounded, then since April the men who are being made redundant.”
“I have heard there are plenty of those,” Anthony said. “In fact someone at the Club was saying only last week that we are disarming at an almost indecent speed.”
The Marquis nodded.
“I heard Lord St. Vincent speak in the House of Lords,” he said ruminatively. “He was absolutely insistent on drastic economies in Naval administration.”
“I heard a worse story, now I think about it,” Anthony said, “I was told that, while all our ships are crying out for repairs, the dockyard hands have been dismissed, contracts with private yards withdrawn and surplus stores sold off – in some cases to French agents!”
At this the Marquis stopped still to stare at his friend.
“And it was you who told me the other day that we need not be afraid of Bonaparte!” he said accusingly. “I am sure he is replenishing his empty dockyards and building ships at all possible speed.”
“Now you are trying to make my flesh creep,” Anthony retorted. “Go back to your sleuthing and remember you, at any rate, have benefited by having almost a ship’s company working on your garden!”
The Marquis did not reply. He was obviously deep in thought as they walked back towards the house.
By now it was luncheontime and, before they went into the dining room, the Marquis said,
“Not a word in front of Travers of what we have discovered this
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