“With such ideas as those I don’t think Baslehurst is the ground for you,” said Mr. Tappitt.
“The very ground!” said Rowan. “That’s just it;—it’s the very place I want. Brewing, as I take it, is at a lower ebb here than in any other part of England,”—this at any rate was not complimentary to the brewer of thirty years’ standing—“than in any other part of England. The people swill themselves with the nasty juice of the apple because sound malt and hops have never been brought within their reach. I think Devonshire is the very county for a man who means to work hard, and who wishes to do good; and in all Devonshire I don’t think there’s a more fitting town than Baslehurst.”
Mr. Tappitt was dumbfounded. Did this young man mean him to understand that it was his intention to open a rival establishment under his nose; to set up with Bungall’s money another brewery in opposition to Bungall’s brewery? Could such ingratitude as that be in the mind of anyone? “Oh,” said Tappitt; “I don’t quite understand, but I don’t doubt but what you say is all very fine.”
“I don’t think that it’s fine at all, Mr. Tappitt, but I believe that it’s true. I represent Mr. Bungall’s interest here in Baslehurst, and I intend to carry on Mr. Bungall’s business in the town in which he established it.”
“This is Mr. Bungall’s business;—this here, where I’m sitting, and it is in my hands.”
“The use of these premises depends on you certainly.”
“Yes; and the name of the firm, and the—the—the—. In point of fact, this is the old establishment. I never heard of such a thing in all my life.”
“Quite true; it is the old establishment; and if I should set up another brewery here, as I think it probable I may, I shall not make use of Bungall’s name. In the first place it would hardly be fair; and in the next place, by all accounts, he brewed such very bad beer that it would not be a credit to me. If you’ll tell me what your plan is, then I’ll tell you mine. You’ll find that everything shall be aboveboard, Mr. Tappitt.”
“My plan? I’ve got no plan. I mean to go on here as I’ve always done.”
“But I suppose you intend to come to some arrangement with me. My claims are these: I will either come into this establishment on an equal footing with yourself, as regards share and management, or else I shall look to you to give me the sum of money to which my lawyers tell me I am entitled. In fact, you must either take me in or buy me out.”
“I was thinking of a settled income.”
“No; it wouldn’t suit me. I have told you what are my intentions, and to carry them out I must either have a concern of my own, or a share in a concern. A settled income would do me no good.”
“Two hundred a-year,” suggested Tappitt.
“Psha! Three percent would give me three hundred.”
“Ten thousand pounds is out of the question, you know.”
“Very well, Mr. Tappitt. I can’t say anything fairer than I have done. It will suit my own views much the best to start alone, but I do not wish to oppose you if I can help it. Start alone I certainly will, if I cannot come in here on my own terms.”
After that there was nothing more said. Tappitt turned round, pretending to read his letters, and Rowan descending from his seat walked out into the yard of the brewery. His intention had been, ever since he had looked around him in Baslehurst, to be master of that place, or if not of that, to be master of some other. “It would break my heart to be sending out such stuff as that all my life,” he said to himself, as he watched the muddy stream run out of the shallow coolers. He had resolved that he would brew good beer. As to that ambition of putting down the consumption of cider, I myself am inclined to think that the habits of the country would be too strong for him. At the present moment he lighted a cigar and sauntered about the yard. He had now, for the first time, spoken openly of his purpose to Mr. Tappitt; but, having done so, he resolved that there should be no more delay. “I’ll give him till Saturday for an answer,” he said. “If he isn’t ready with one by that time I’ll manage it through the lawyers.” After that he turned his mind to Rachel Ray and the events of the past evening. He had told Rachel that he would go out to Bragg’s End if she did not come into town, and he was quite resolved that he would do so. He knew well that she would not come in, understanding exactly those feelings of hers which would prevent it. Therefore his walk to Bragg’s End on that afternoon was a settled thing with him. They were to dine at the brewery at three, and he would go almost immediately after dinner. But what would he say to her when he got there, and what would he say to her mother? He had not even yet made up his mind that he would positively ask her on that day to be his wife, and yet he felt that if he found her at home he would undoubtedly do so. “I’ll arrange it all,” said he, “as I’m walking over.” Then he threw away the end of his cigar, and wandered about for the next half-hour among the vats and tubs and furnaces.
Mr. Tappitt took himself into the house as soon as he found himself able to do so without being seen by young Rowan. He took himself into the house in order that he might consult with his wife as to this unexpected revelation that had been made
