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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/38136-8.txt b/38136-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..32f8645 --- /dev/null +++ b/38136-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6548 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Life of Thomas Wanless, Peasant, by +Alexander Johnstone Wilson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Life of Thomas Wanless, Peasant + +Author: Alexander Johnstone Wilson + +Release Date: November 25, 2011 [EBook #38136] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF THOMAS WANLESS *** + + + + +Produced by Moti Ben-Ari and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + + + + + + THE LIFE + OF + THOMAS WANLESS, + PEASANT. + + Manchester: + JOHN DALE, 296 & 298, STRETFORD ROAD. + ABEL HEYWOOD & SON, 56 & 58, OLDHAM STREET. + + London: + SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO., STATIONERS' HALL COURT. + + INDEX. + + CHAP. PAGE. + INTRODUCTORY, 1 + I. A HELOT'S NURTURE, 11 + II. A PHILANTHROPIC PARSON, 24 + III. THE "ALLOTMENT" CURE FOR HUNGER, 31 + IV. MANUFACTURING CRIMINALS, 48 + V. JAIL LIFE, 69 + VI. NATURE OF A SERMON, 85 + VII. MEN FOR A STANDING ARMY, 96 + VIII. VERY ARISTOCRATIC COMPANY, 115 + IX. AN OLD, OLD STORY, 123 + X. THE PARSONAGE, 131 + XI. A MERE PEASANT MAIDEN, 139 + XII. HIGH AND LOW BREEDING, 150 + XIII. PREACHERS OF "WORDS", 157 + XIV. "CHRISTIAN" RESPECTABILITY, 166 + XV. TOO BAD FOR DESCRIPTION, 179 + XVI. A BETTER QUEST, 186 + XVII. NOTHING THAT IS NEW, 195 + XVIII. SWEET ARE THE USES OF ADVERSITY, 209 + XIX. THE LOST ONE IS FOUND, 217 + XX. THE LAST LONG SLEEP OF ALL, 226 + XXI. THE JOURNEY'S END, 236 + + + + + THE LIFE OF + THOMAS WANLESS, + PEASANT. + + +INTRODUCTORY. + +Some years ago it was my habit to spend the long vacation in a quiet +Warwickshire village, not far from the fashionable town of Leamington. I +chose this spot for its sweet peace and its withdrawnness; for the +opportunities it gave me of wandering along the beautiful tree-shaded +country lanes; for its nearness to such historical spots as Warwick, +Kenilworth, and Stratford-on-Avon, to all of which I could either walk +or ride in a morning. But I love a quiet village for its own sake above +most things, and would rather spend my leisure amongst its simple +cottage folk, take my rest on the bench at the village alehouse door, +and walk amid the smock-frocked peasantry to the grey village church, +than mingle with the fashionable, over-dressed, prurient, +hollow-hearted, and artificial products of civilisation that constitute +themselves society--yea a thousand-fold rather. To me the restfulness +of a little village, with its cots nestling among the drowsy trees in a +warm summer day, is a foreshadowing of the rest of heaven. So I settled +myself in little Ashbrook, in a room sweet and cool, of its little inn, +and laughed at the foolish creatures who, with weary, purposeless steps +trode daily the Leamington Parade with hearts full of all envy and +jealousy at sight of such other descendants of our tattooed ancestors as +fortune might enable to gaud their bodies more lavishly than they. These +droned their idle life away flirting, reading the skim-milk, often +unwholesome, literature of the fashionable library; jabbering about +dress, and picking characters to pieces; shooting in the gardens at +archery meetings; patronising religious shows and thinking it +refinement. And I? I wander forth alone, filling my sketch-book with +whatsoever takes my fancy, or, in sociable moods, drink my ale in rustic +company, talking of hard winters and low wages, the difficulty of +living, of rural incidents, and the joys and sorrows of those toilers by +whose hard labour the few are made rich. They are not faultless, these +rustics, but they are very human, and their vices are unsophisticated +vices--the art of gilding iniquity, of luxuriously tricking out a +frivolous existence in the most subtle conceits of dress and demeanour, +has not yet reached them. When they sin they do not sublimise their sins +into the little peccadilloes and amusements incident to civilisation. So +I love them; marred and crooked and dull-witted though they may be, they +suit my humour, and fall in with my tastes for the open air, the free +expanse of landscape, the grand old trees, and the verdure-clothed +banks of the sleepy streams. + +It was in this village that I met my peasant. He was not a man easy to +pick acquaintance with, for he mingled little among the gossips of the +place. Never once did I see him at the village inn or in church. He +lived apart in a little cottage near the Warwick end of the village, +with his wife and a little lass of ten or eleven summers--his +granddaughter. I often met him in the early morning going to market with +his baskets of vegetables, or in the cool of the evening, when he would +go out with his little girl skipping and dancing by his side. And the +very first time I saw him he awakened in me a strong interest. There was +something striking in his aspect--a still calm was on his face, and at +the same time a hardness lay about the mouth, and in the wrinkles around +the eyes, which was almost repellant. His figure had been above the +middle height; and although now bent and gaunt-looking, had still an +aspect of calm energy and decayed strength. But what struck me most was +the grand, almost majestic outline of his profile, and the keenness of +his yet undimmed eye, which flashed from beneath grey shaggy eyebrows +with a light that entered one's soul. The face was thoroughly English in +type, with features singularly regular, the forehead broad, the nose +aquiline, the chin large; and still in old age round and clean and full, +though the cheeks had fallen in and the mouth had become drawn and hard. +Had one met this man in "society," dressed in correct evening costume, +surrounded by courtly dames in half-dress, one would have been struck +by the individuality of that grand, grey face. Meanly clad, bent, and +leaning on a common oaken staff, the face and figure of this old peasant +were such as once looked at could not be easily forgotten. This also was +a man with a soul in him; ay, and with a heart too; for does not his eye +rest with an inexpressibly sad tenderness on the slim girl by his side +when she interrupts his reverie with the eager query, "Grand-dad, +grand-dad! Oh look at this poor dead bird in the path; who could have +killed it?" + +My interest in this solitary man was keenly roused; and, from the +inquiries I made, I learned enough of his history to make me anxious to +know him. But that was not a desire easily gratified. Although always +courteous in returning my "good evening," he did so with an air that +forbade conversation, and gave me back but monosyllables to any remarks +I might make about the weather, the crops, or the child. He was not +rude, only reserved and dry, and that not with me only. To nearly all +the villagers his manner was the same. Only two may be said to have been +frequenters of his house, the old schoolmaster and the sexton. Even his +wife had few or no gossips. Yet everyone seemed to respect him, and many +spoke of him with a kind of friendly pity. Whether or not the respect +was partly due to the fact that the old man was supposed to have +means--that is, that although no longer able to do more than cultivate +his little garden and allotment patch, he was yet not on the parish--I +cannot say, but it was clear that the kindliness at least was genuine. +And so no one intruded on him. All saluted him respectfully and left +him to himself, save perhaps when one of the village milk dealers might +give him a lift on his way to market. Sometimes on a warm evening I have +seen him seated at his cottage door with a newspaper on his knee, +smoking his evening pipe, and answering the greetings of passers by. But +except his two old friends, and perhaps some village children playing +with his little one, there was no gathering of neighbours; no gossips +leant over his fence to discuss village scandals and local politics. He +was a man apart; and thus it happened that my first holiday in the +village passed away leaving me still a stranger to old Thomas Wanless. + +But for an accident we might have been strangers still, and I would not +have troubled the world with this old peasant's history. I was walking +home one morning from Leamington, whither I had gone to buy some fresh +colours and a sketch-book, when I heard in a hollow behind me a vehicle +of some sort coming along the road at a great pace. Almost immediately a +dog-cart driven tandem overtook and passed me. It contained a stout, +rather blotched-looking man, who might be any age from thirty-five to +fifty, and a groom. Just beyond the road took rather a sharp turn to the +right, dipping into another hollow, and the dog-cart had hardly +disappeared round the corner when I heard a shrill scream of pain, +followed by oaths, loud and deep, uttered in a harsh, metallic, but +husky voice. I ran forward and immediately came upon Thomas Wanless's +little girl lying moaning in the road, white and unable to move, +grasping a bunch of wild flowers in one hand. Half-a-crown lay amongst +the dust near her, and the dog-cart was dashing over the crest of the +further slope, apparently on its way to the Grange. Without pausing to +think, but cursing the while the heartlessness of those who seemed to +think half-a-crown compensation enough for the injury done to this +little one, I flung my parcel over the hedge, and gathering the +half-fainting child as gently as I could in my arms, hurried with her to +her grandfather's cottage. It was a good half-mile walk, partly through +the village. The child was heavy, and I arrived hot and out of breath, +followed by several matrons who had caught sight of me as I passed by, +and who stood round the door with anxious faces. A milkman's cart met me +on the way, and I begged its occupant to drive with all speed to Warwick +for a surgeon, as the child had been run over. The man answered yes, and +went. + +When I burst into Thomas's house he was dozing in his armchair, but the +noise woke him and brought his wife in from the garden. "Oh, my God," +cried Thomas, as he caught sight of the child; and he tried to rise, but +sank again into his seat pale as death, and trembling all over. His wife +burst into tears, but immediately swept an old couch clear of some +clothes and child's playthings, and there I laid poor Sally, as the old +woman called her, half unconscious and still moaning. Rapidly Mrs. +Wanless loosened the child's clothes, and as she did so I told them what +had occurred. When I described the man who had run over the child, I was +startled by a sudden flash of angry scorn, almost of hate, that mantled +over the old man's face. He clutched the arms of his chair +convulsively, and half rose from his seat as he almost hissed out the +words--"By Heaven, the child has been killed by its own father." He +seemed to regret the words as soon as uttered, and tried to hide his +confusion by eagerly inquiring of his wife if she had found out where +Sally was hurt. The effort failed him, however, and he remained visibly +embarrassed by my presence. I would have left, but I too was anxious to +see where Sarah was hurt, so I turned to the couch to give Thomas time +to recover himself. As I did so, Sally screamed. Her grandmother had +attempted to draw down her loosened dress, and in doing so had disturbed +the child's legs, causing acute pain. + +I judged at once that a leg was either bruised or broken, and begged +Mrs. Wanless to feel gently for the hurt. Almost immediately the child +uttered a scream, crying, "Oh, my right leg, my right leg;" and a brief +examination proved the fact that it was broken just a little way below +the knee. The sobbing of the child unnerved Mrs. Wanless, and she seemed +about to faint, so I led her to a seat, gave her a glass of water, and +returned to Sarah, turning her carefully flat on her back, and kneeling +down, gently removed her stocking from the broken limb, which I then +laid straight out on the couch, propping it on either side with such +soft articles as I could lay hands on. That done, I told Sarah to lie as +still as she could until the doctor came, when he would soon ease her +pain. Soothing the child thus, and hardly thinking of the old people, I +was suddenly interrupted by Thomas. He had risen from his chair, and, +leaning on his staff, had approached the couch. He stood there for a +little, looking at his little maiden with an expression of intense pain +and sorrow on his face. Then he turned to me, and, without speaking, +held out his hand. I rose to my feet, grasped it, and, suddenly +bethinking myself for the first time, uncovered my head. The tears +gathered in my eyes in spite of myself. I knew in my heart that Thomas +Wanless and I were friends. + +And great friends we became in time. At first I went to the cottage +daily to enquire after little Sarah, who progressed favourably under the +Warwick surgeon's care; and when she was past all danger and pain, I +went to talk with old Thomas. Gradually his heart opened to me; and bit +by bit I gathered up the main incidents of his history. A commonplace +history enough, yet tragic too; for Thomas was no commonplace man. There +was a depth of passion beneath that still hard face; a wealth of +feeling, a range of thought that to me was utterly astounding. What had +not this village labourer known and suffered; what sorrow; what baffled +hope; yea, what despair; and, through despair, what peace! As I sat by +his chair on the summer evenings and listened to his talk with his old +friends, or walked with him in the by-lanes, gathering from his lips the +leading events of his life, my heart often burned within me. Yet, +refined reader, gentle reader, Thomas Wanless was only a peasant; a man +that sold vegetables and flowers from door to door in little Warwick +town to eke out his means of subsistence. His was the toiler's lot; the +lot without hope for this world, whose natural end is want, and a +pauper's grave. + +Can I hope to interest you in this man's history? I confess I have my +doubts. There is tragedy in it; it is mostly tragedy; but then it is the +tragedy of the low born. I shall not be able to introduce you to any +arch plotter; to groups of refined adulteresses clad in robes of satin +and blazoned with jewels and gold, at once the sign and the fruit of +their shame. Nor can I promise to unweave startling plots, or to deal in +mysterious horrors such as cause the flesh of dainty ladies to creep +with a delicious excitement. No; the incidents of Thomas Wanless's story +are mostly those of a plain English villager, doomed to suffer and to +bear his share of the load of our national greatness; one above the +common level in his personal qualities to be sure, but nowise above the +common lot. Those who cannot bear to read of such, had better close the +book. + +Read by you or not, Thomas Wanless's story I must write, for it is a +story that all the upper powers of these realms would do well to +ponder--from the serene defenders of the faith, with their high +satellite, lord bishops in lawn sleeves, downwards. The day is coming, +and coming soon, when the men of Thomas Wanless's stamp will invite +these dignitaries to give an account of themselves, and to justify the +manner of their being under penalty of summary notice to quit. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +WHEREIN IS SET FORTH THE BLESSEDNESS OF A HELOT'S NURTURE. + + +The grandfather of Thomas Wanless had been a small Warwickshire yeoman, +whom the troublous times towards the latter end of the last century, +family misfortunes, and the pressure of the large landowners, had +combined to reduce in circumstances. His son Jacob had, therefore, found +himself in the position of a day labourer on the farms around Ashbrook, +raised above his fellow labourers only by the fact that he could sign +his name, and that, through his wife, he owned a small freehold cottage +with about a quarter of an acre of garden in the village. His unusual +literary accomplishments, and his small possession did little to relieve +him from the common miseries which pressed more or less on all, but +most, of course, on the lowest class, during the years that succeeded +the "glorious" Napoleonic wars. The winter of 1819, therefore, found him +wrestling with the bitter energy of a hungry despair to get bread for a +family of six children. The task proved too much for him, and he was +reluctantly driven to let his oldest boy Thomas go to work on the +Whitbury farm for a shilling a week. Thomas had been trying to pick up +some inkling of the art of reading at a dame's school in the village, +but had not made much progress--could, when thus launched on the world, +do no more than spell out the Sermon on the Mount, or the first verses +of the 1st chapter in John's Gospel, and ere a year was well over he had +forgotten even that. There were no demagogues in those days disturbing +peaceful villages with clamours for education; no laws prohibiting the +labour of little children at tasks beyond their strength. + +The squires, the parsons, and the larger farmers had the law in their +own hands, and combined to keep the lower orders in ignorance, giving +God thanks that they had the power so to do. The sporting parson of +Ashbrook of that day even thought it superfluous to teach those d----d +labourers' brats the Catechism. He appeared to think his duty done when +he had stumbled through the prayers once a week in church. That, at +least, was the range of his spiritual duties. For the rest, he +considered it of the highest moment that his tithes should be promptly +paid; that all poaching should be summarily punished, and that the +hunting appointments of the shire should always be graced by his +presence. It was also a point of duty with him always to vote true blue, +and never to miss a good dinner at any aristocratic table within his +reach. He would say grace with fervour, and drink the good wines till +his face grew purple and his eyes bloodshot. If he had another mission +in life, it was to do his best to divert in sublime disregard of merit +or human wants, the charity which some reluctantly contrite sinner of +former days had left for the poor of the parish, to the use of +creatures who had excited his good feeling by their obsequiousness. + +So it came to pass that little Thomas Wanless was launched on the world +at the early age of eight, at the age when the well-to-do begin to think +of sending their children to school. Clad in a sort of blue smock and +heavy clog boots; patched, not over-warm breeches and stockings, Thomas +had to face the wintry blasts in the early morning, for it was a good +mile walk to Whitbury Farm. There, all day long, he either trudged +wearily by the sides of the horses at plough, often nearly frozen with +cold, or did rough jobs about the cattle or pigs in the muck-littered +farmyard. Weary, heavy hearted, and hungry, the lad came home at night +to his meagre supper of thin oatmeal porridge, or of black bread +flavoured with coarse bacon, washed down sometimes with a little thin +ale or cider. Often he had for dinner only dry bread and a little watery +cheese, and rarely or never any meat or milk. Supper over the boy crept +straight to bed. For two years this was the life the boy led, and at the +end of these two years his wage was but eighteenpence a week. No food +was given him save, perhaps, an occasional hunch of bread +surreptitiously conveyed to him beneath the apron of a dairymaid endowed +with fellow feeling. What need to fill up the picture of these +years--who does not know it now? The long autumn days spent watching the +corn, often, weary with watching, and hungry, falling asleep by the +hedge side. The dreary winters, the hard pallet, and still harder fare, +the scant clothing and chilled blood, the crowded sleeping rooms and +wan stunted figures; find you not all the history of lives like this set +forth in Parliamentary Blue Books for legislators to ponder over and +mend, if they can or care. Thomas Wanless suffered no more hardships +than millions that have gone before him, or that follow after to this +day, bearing on their weary, patient shoulders the burden of our +magnificent civilization. He and the others suspected not that this was +their allotted mission in our immaculate order of society; but the +concrete sufferings of his lot he could feel. For him the harsh words +and cruel blows of the farmer were real enough, and, in the misery of +his present sufferings, his young life lost its joy and hope. For him +the birds that sang in the sweet spring time brought no melody of +heaven, the autumn with its golden grain no joy. He knew only of labour, +and men's hardness, and was familiar mostly with hunger and cold and +pain. The divine order of the British Constitution had ordained it--why +should he complain? If my lord and my lady lived in wasteful luxury, if +proud squires and their henchmen trod crops under foot in their pursuit +of sport, totally regardless of a people's necessities; if vermin, +strictly preserved, ate the bread of the poor in order that the lordly +few might indulge the wild brute passion for slaughter, deemed by them a +mark of high-breeding, what was that to Thomas and his kind? Had not +those people a right to their pleasure? Was not the land theirs, by +theft or fraud it might be, but still theirs by a power none dared +gainsay? All that was as clear as day, and religion itself was +distinctly on the side of the upper classes. The Church through its +tithes shared in their exclusive privileges, and the parson of the +parish was a diligent guardian of property. On the rare occasions when +he preached a sermon his theme was the duty of the poor to be contented +and obedient. Men who dared to think, he classed as rioters, who, like +poachers and rick-burners, were an abomination to the Lord. Who so dared +to question the divine order of British society, deserved, in the +parson's view, everlasting death. Wealth, in short, according to this +beautiful gospel, was for them that had it or could steal it within the +lines of the constitution, and for the poor there was degradation, +hunger, rags, and, by way of hope, a chance of the pauper's heaven. + +It must be all right, of course; but somehow, gradually, to little +Thomas it did not appear so. Very young and ignorant as he was, strange +thoughts began to stir within him. At home he saw his father sinking +more and more into the hopeless state of a man whose only earthly hope +was the parish workhouse; he saw his mother beaten to the earth with the +weary work of rearing a family of six children, without the means of +giving them enough to eat. One by one these went out, like himself, from +their little three-roomed cottage to try and earn the bread they needed. +The girls worked in the fields like the rest. All were, like himself, +uneducated, and, in spite of all, the wolf could hardly be kept from the +door when bread was dear, as it often was in those days. His father's +wages never averaged more than 8s. a-week the year round. But what did +that matter? Had not the parish provided a poorhouse, and did it not +give bread of a kind to every miserable groundling whom it could not +drive beyond its bounds? They ought surely to have been contented. Yet +Thomas, who saw and often felt their hunger, and contrasted it with the +coarse profusion at the farm, and the pampered condition of the squire's +menials at the Grange--he doubted many things. + +The sight of a meeting of fox-hunters, and of the rush of their horses +across the cultivated land, filled him with wrath even then. The life he +saw around him had no unity in it. Thus it happened that, by the time he +was 13, though still stunted in body, he had begun to assert some amount +of dogged independence, and was driven away from Whitbury farm because +he flew at his drunken master for striking him with the waggoner's whip. + +With some difficulty he got work after this, at 2s. a week and his +dinner, on a small dairy farm called the Brooks, which lay a mile +further from the village, on the Stratford Road. There he got better +treatment. His master was a quiet hard-working man, who had himself a +hard struggle to meet his rent, maintain his stock of nine cows, and get +a living. His own troubles had tended rather to soften than harden his +nature. Thomas, though having to work early and late, at least always +got his warm dinner, and often received a draught of milk from the +motherly housewife. Here, therefore, he began to grow; his stunted limbs +straightened out; his chest expanded, and, by the time he was seventeen +he gave the promise of becoming a more than usually stalwart labourer. + +While Thomas was still new at this dairy farm, and while the remembrance +of his defiance was still fresh in the minds of farmer Pemberton, of +Whitbury, and his family, he was subjected to an outrage which almost +killed him, and left a mark on his mind which was fresh and vivid to the +day of his death. Farmer Pemberton's sons resolved to have a lark with +the "impudent young devil." Their first idea was to catch Thomas as he +came home at night, and, after trouncing him soundly, duck him in the +stinking pond formed by the farm sewage. On consulting their friend, the +eldest son of Lawyer Turner, of Warwick, he, however, said that it would +be better to frighten the little beggar into doing something they might +get him clapped into jail for. Led by this young knave, the farmer's +three sons disguised themselves by blackening their faces and donning +old clothes. Then, armed with bludgeons and knives, they lay in wait for +Thomas as he came home from work in the gloom of an October evening. +Their intention was to seize him, and amid great demonstrations of +knives and fearful imprecations, order him to take them to Farmer +Pemberton's rickyard. Once there they intended to force him to set fire +to some straw in the yard, and then seize him for fire-raising. As young +Turner said, they might easily in this way swear him into jail for a +twelvemonth. + +This diabolical plot was actually and literally carried out upon this +poor, ignorant, peasant lad by four young men, supposed to be educated +and civilised; and it might have had all the disastrous consequences +they could have wished but for an accident. A labourer on the farm +overheard part of the conversation of the plotters as they marshalled +themselves on the night of the expedition, and, as soon as the coast was +clear, stole off to warn the boy's father. Jacob Wanless and he at once +roused the neighbours; and, after a delay of perhaps twenty minutes, +half a dozen men started for Whitbury Farm, while as many took the +Stratford Road to try to save the boy from capture. + +The latter party was too late; Thomas was caught near a cross-road about +a quarter of a mile from the farm. Two disguised men rushed upon him +from opposite sides of the road with savage growls, their blackened +faces half hid in mufflers. Brandishing clubs and knives, they demanded +his name. Thomas gave one piercing yell of terror and dashed forward, +but was seized and held fast. Gripping him by the collar of his smock +till he was nearly choked, young Turner again demanded his name, and, on +Thomas gasping it out, roared in his ear, "then you are the villain we +want. You must take us to farmer Pemberton's rickyard and stables. We +are rick-burners, and will kill you unless you obey." Whereat he +flourished a knife, and drew the back of it across his own throat, with +a significant gurgle. Thomas trembled in every limb, tried to speak, but +his tongue failing him, burst into a wail of crying instead, and sank to +the ground. The scoundrels laughed hoarsely, and, amid a volley of +oaths, hauled him to his feet. Then forcing him on his knees, Turner +ordered him to swear to lead them to the place, and keep faith with +them. As the boy hesitated, they stood over him crying, "Swear, swear, +you obstinate pig, or you die," and Turner held the knife to his heart. +Thoroughly cowed and terror stricken, Thomas gasped out, "I swear." A +man on each side then laid hold of him, hauled him to his feet and led +him towards the farm, the other two ruffians acting guards, muttering +foul oaths, and brandishing their cudgels within an inch of his face in +a way that froze his very heart's blood with terror. + +Arrived at the barn, they produced a tinderbox, and, lighting a match, +ordered Thomas to set fire to a heap of loose straw that lay near the +barn door. Thomas refused. A dim glimmer of the fact that he was being +hoaxed had risen through his fears. He thought he knew the voices of at +least two of his tormentors, and he grew bolder. Twice the order was +repeated amid ominous handling of knives, but he sullenly bade them +light the straw themselves, and thrust his hands into his pockets. After +a third refusal one of the Pembertons struck him in the face a blow that +loosened three of his teeth, and made his nose bleed profusely. Then +once more he was asked to light the straw, but the only reply was a +piercing cry for help. In a moment a gag was thrust into his bleeding +mouth, and he was flung on the ground, where they proceeded to pinion +his hands and his feet. Before completing the tying, Turner hissed into +his ear, "Hold up your hand to say you yield, you little devil, or we +will beat you to death." But Thomas lay still, so the whole four of them +commenced to push him about with their feet, and to strike him with +their sticks, amid growls and horrid oaths. Then Thomas lost +consciousness. When he awoke again he was at home in his mother's bed. +His mother was kneeling by his side weeping bitterly, and his father +stood over him holding a feeble rushlight, watching for the return of +life. The boy was in great pain, especially about the legs and abdomen, +and could not move his left arm at all. His face was swollen, his lips +and gums lacerated and sore, and he lay tossing in pain till the grey +morning light, when he dropt off into a fitful sleep. A fortnight +elapsed before he was able to resume work. + +The rescuing party had reached the farm barely in time to prevent the +brutal ruffians from carrying their sport to perhaps a fatal conclusion. +Guided by the curses and laughter, Jacob and his friends had rushed upon +the savages in the midst of the kicking, and Jacob himself in a frenzy +of rage wrenched a cudgel from the nearest of them, felled him to the +earth with it, and dragged his son from amongst the others' feet. The +man he struck happened to be Turner; and, seeing him down, the cowardly +young Pembertons took to their heels before the slower moving labourers +could capture them. Turner, all bleeding as he was, they attempted to +take with them in order to give him into custody, but on the way to the +village he tripped up one of his guards, wrenched himself free, and +bolted. An outrage like this surely could not go unpunished. Jacob +Wanless determined that it should not, and went to a Warwick lawyer, a +rival of old Turner's, with a view to get redress. This lawyer, Overend +by name, was a sort of pettifogger, who laid himself out for poor men's +work. In his way he was clever enough; but, unfortunately, he often got +drunk; and, even when sober, was hardly a match for old Turner. When +Thomas's case came before the justices, Jacob, therefore, fared badly. +Overend had just enough drink to make him violent and abusive, and the +result was that his witnesses were so bamboozled and browbeaten by both +Turner and the bench that they became confused, and gave incoherent +answers; so it was not very difficult, false swearing being easy, for +Turner and his clients to make Thomas the criminal. His attack on old +Pemberton's person was raked up in proof of his bad disposition, and his +presence in the farmyard was attributed to motives of revenge. As a +result, instead of obtaining redress, Jacob's case was dismissed by the +magistrates, and he and his son admonished. The chairman of the day, +Squire Polewhele, of Middlebury, told Jacob he might be thankful that +they did not put his son in jail for assault. There could be no doubt in +his opinion that the young scamp had gone to farmer Pemberton's rickyard +with malicious intent, for it was clear that he was an ill-conditioned +rascal, and if his father did not take better care of his upbringing he +might live to see him come to a bad end. + +Such was Jacob's consolation. It took him and his son six months to pay +Overend's bill of 30s. The unlucky labourer who had brought the news of +the plot fared perhaps worse than anybody, for old Pemberton, at the +instigation of his sons, turned him off at a moment's notice. It was +nearly four months before the poor fellow could get another steady job, +and he and his family were all winter chargeable on the rates. + +As for the boy Thomas, his nervous system had received such a shock +that it became a positive agony to him to have to trudge home from his +work in the dark winter nights, and when his father was unable to go to +meet him he always ran at the top of his speed past Whitbury farm, his +heart within him palpitating like to burst. All his life long, so deep +was the impression that fright made on him, a certain nervous tremor +seized him whenever he found himself alone on a strange road on a +moonless night. + +The rest of the boyhood of Thomas Wanless was uneventful. He grew in +mind and in stature, and suffered less withal from hunger than many of +his order. At the age of twenty he took a wife, following in that +respect the habits of those around him. 'Tis the fashion nowadays to +inveigh against early marriages, and especially against the poor who +marry early. By such a practice it is declared miseries are heaped upon +them, and our pauper roll is augmented. This is an easy way to push +aside one of the most perplexing social problems that this country has +ever had to face. With the growth of wealth marriage has become a luxury +even to the rich, and for the comparatively poor a forbidden indulgence. +As a consequence of this the youth of the present day avoid marriage +with all its hampering ties. A code of morals has thus grown up which +may be said to be paving the way for a coming negation of all morality. + +A young man may commit almost any crime against a young woman with +impunity so long as he steers clear of all hints of marriage. The +relations of the sexes are under this modern code utterly unnatural and +fruitful of corruption. Nor can it be otherwise while a man is +forbidden under penalty of social ostracism to take a wife. To marry is +almost as sure a way to renounce the world, with all its hopes and +advantages, as of old was the taking of a monastic vow. What the next +generation will be, what licenses it will give itself under the modern +restrictions which outrage all that is best in humanity, I must not +venture to predict. But that corruption is spreading on all hands, that +flippancy, folly, and worse, dominate the relationships of the young of +both sexes is even now too apparent. + +But I am travelling far from Thomas Wanless's history. He at all events +felt no social restraint save that of poverty, which he did not fear, +and so he married young. The lad had, indeed, little choice. + +His mother died when he was 19, and one of his sisters, the youngest of +the family, was also dead. The other had married and gone to a village +five miles beyond Warwick. Of his three brothers, one only remained at +home, a boy of 14. William, the next in age to himself, had been +kidnapped at Gloucester, and carried off to sea in a Government ship; +and the other boy, Jacob, had a place as stable-boy at Melton Priory, +Lord Raven's place, near which his married sister lived. There was no +woman, therefore, at home to cook food for the three that were left. His +father was too broken down to dream of marrying again, there were no +houses in the miserable overcrowded village where the three could be +taken in to lodge together, and so, unless they separated, what could +Thomas do but marry? He was willing enough, of course, being, like all +country lads of his years, honestly in love; and so at twenty he brought +home his wife to take his mother's place in the old freehold cottage, +soon to be his own. Sarah Leigh was a year or two older than her +husband, and had been an under-housemaid at the Grange, the family seat +of Squire Wiseman, who was the greatest man of the parish, and lord of +the manor. Her experiences there were not, perhaps, such as best fitted +her to be a labourer's wife, and at first she was inclined to +commiserate herself. But at bottom Sarah was a woman of sense, and by +the time her second child arrived had grown into a staid, affectionate +housewife, ever cheerfully busy in making her home comfortable. + +Prudent or not, Thomas thus found himself in a humble and modest way +happy. He was now acting as under-waggoner at a farm called Grimscote, +near Warwick, and had as much as 9s. 6d. a week in summer, besides beer +and extra money in harvest. In winter his work was also regular, though +his wages were then only 8s. a week. His duties often took him +considerable distances away from home. He was frequently at Coventry and +Stratford-on-Avon, and he had once been as far as Worcester, and as his +observant faculties were keen, he took mental notes of what he saw. Full +of pity for the misery that he everywhere met, the feelings of his +boyhood became keener, and his independence of spirit more out-spoken. +Already this had attracted in a passing way the attention of the +authorities, and some even went so far as to shake their wiseacre heads +over him, and dubiously hint that he might be dangerous. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +INTRODUCES THE READER TO A PHILANTHROPIC PARSON AND A GREAT SQUIRE. + + +In the years that elapsed between the close of the Napoleonic wars and +the passing of the Reform Bill, as indeed often since, the debasement +and misery of the agricultural poor rose to agony point, and soon after +Thomas Wanless's marriage an outbreak of popular discontent, based on +hunger, stirred a little the smooth surface of society. It became +necessary, for very shame, to at least appear to do something for the +pauperised masses on whose backs "society" was supported. Accordingly, a +pseudo philanthropic agitation was started in the rural districts with +the object of bettering, or rather of seeming to better, the peasant's +lot. Mass meetings were held, parsons and even bishops threw themselves +into the movement, patronised it, and sought to guide it to a +consummation safe for themselves and their "dear church," itself then so +great a landowner. + +For rustic miseries these high personages had one main panacea, and one +only. This was not free land, fixity of tenure for the besotted farmers +always so content to lie at the feet of their earthly lords; it was not +disendowment of the Church and the distribution of its lands among the +people from whom they had been taken originally by chicane and greed; +nor was it the dismissal, with due payment, of those inheritors of the +ancient marauders and appropriators of the soil, with all that is on it +and under it, for whom the people have been kept as slaves for many +generations. No; none of these things did the servants of the British +deity, that idealisation of the sacred rights of feudal property, +advocate. Far be such traitor conduct from them. Their cure for the +agricultural distress was the "allotment system." To these reformers the +free migration of labour, the abolition of that abomination of the poor +law which prevented the poor from leaving their parishes, was as nothing +compared with allotments. Landlords and parish authorities had but to +permit the labourers to cultivate for themselves little patches of land, +let to them at a good rent, and what opulence would these serfs not +reach. + +In the agitation on this tremendous reform, Thomas Wanless took a keen +interest, and then first felt sorely his inability to read. He tried to +recall the lessons of his childhood, but could not, and was ashamed to +apply for help. Few, indeed, amongst his neighbours could have helped +him. His wife was as uneducated as himself, so he had to be contented +with gathering the purport of what was going on from those he met at +market or mill. As far as his mind could comprehend the question it was +very clearly made up. He was convinced that all this agitation about +professed interest in the down-trodden labourers would do them no good, +and he doubted whether any good was meant. + +"It's not a bit of charity land we want," he always said. "What I +maintain is that you and me an' the likes of us ought to get 10 acres or +more at a fair honest rent if we can do wi' it, and let's take our +chance. Why shouldn't I be able to keep cows and grow corn as well as +the farmer? He often wastes more than three labourers' families could +live on, and yet pays his rent. I tell ye, lads, this talk of 'lotments +and half acres, and all that, is just damned nonsense, an' that's what +it be." + +Sentiments like these did not make Thomas popular with the upper powers, +and had old Parson Field been alive he might have smarted for his +freedom of speech. But the old parson had died shortly before the noise +about allotments came to a head, and the new vicar was supposed to be of +a different stamp. He was reputed to be a favourite of one of those +strange fungoid excrescences of Christianity, the "Lord" Bishop of the +diocese, who recommended him for the vacancy, and as he was young and +ignorant of the world, he began his work with some moral fervour and a +tendency to religious zeal. The Rev. Josiah Codling, M.A., of Jesus +College, Cambridge, was in fact a young man of liberal, not to say +democratic tendencies. He had been sufficiently impressed by some of the +more glorious precepts of the faith he came to teach to wish in a +general sort of a way to do good. Left to follow his higher impulses he +probably might have led a life of active philanthropy, and the +democratic thoroughness of the Christian faith might have enabled him to +do something to lift the down-trodden people who formed the bulk of his +flock. It was well, at all events, that Mr. Codling began with good +intent. He was hardly warm in the parish before he went into the +allotment agitation with the feverish enthusiasm of inexperience, and he +also had the temerity to start a school. Dismissing the old parish clerk +who had drowsily mumbled the "amens" and "we beseech Thee's" for nigh +forty years, he brought a young man from Birmingham who knew something +of the three R's, and was rumoured to have even conned a Latin primer, +and constituted him parish clerk and schoolmaster. The vicarage +coach-house was turned into a schoolroom till better could be provided, +and the vicar and his assistant began, the one to hunt up pupils, and +the other to guide their feet in the way of knowledge. + +The farmers for a time looked on, scarce able to realise the meaning of +this innovation, but the more they looked the less they liked what they +saw. So they grumbled when they met in the churchyard on Sundays, and +shook their heads portentously over their beer or brandy punch at market +ordinaries, hinting that the "Squoire" should interfere. In their bovine +manner they soon began to place stumbling-blocks in the vicar's path. A +sudden demand for the services of boys and girls sprang up. Nearly every +farmer in the district found that he needed a new ploughboy or kitchen +wench, and the universal shilling rose to eighteenpence a week, from the +sheer pressure of this demand. Nothing daunted, Parson Codling +determined to start a night school, and if possible get the grown lads +and young men to attend. He succeeded in inducing nearly thirty youths +to come to this night class, and among the first to do so was Thomas +Wanless. Here was his chance, he thought, and he seized it with avidity. +Soon the numbers thinned away. Some left because they could see no good +in learning, but most of them because their masters on hearing of the +class threatened to dismiss them at once unless they promised to stop +"going to play the fool with that young Varsity ninny o' a parson, as +knew nowt o' plain country folks' wants;" and at the end of a month the +young schoolmaster had only seven pupils. To these he stuck fast, and +they made great progress that winter, for the poor pale-faced Birmingham +lad was an enthusiast in his way. Thomas and he became close friends, +and the former drank in the current political ideas which William Brown +brought with him from Birmingham as a sponge drinks up water. Early and +late, at every spare moment, Thomas was busy with his book, and by the +time spring came round again he was able to read with tolerable ease the +small county newspaper that found its way a week old from the Grange to +the village inn. He had read the Pilgrim's Progress, Robinson Crusoe, +and some other books lent him by the vicar, who looked upon him as his +model scholar, and took glory to himself over the labourer's success. + +From that winter forth, however, the enthusiasm of the new vicar for +education sensibly died away. Naturally fitful in disposition, he craved +for immediate results, and, if they came not, his hopes were +disappointed, and his efforts at once relaxed. The pressure of the upper +powers of his parish was also beginning to tell on his unsophisticated +mind. He met with little overt opposition, for that might have been +both troublesome and impolitic. But quiet social forces worked on him +continually to bring him round to a proper sense of his position as +local priest of feudalism. When he dined out, which often happened, his +host would chaff him on his attempts to make scholars of those loafing +rascals of labourers. Squire Wiseman in particular gravely assured him +that he was encouraging dangerous ideas among a very dissolute and +indefinitely corrupt lot of pariahs. Educate them and they would +altogether go to the devil. + +"Tell you what it is, sir," shouted a half-drunk J.P. one evening as the +vicar and some half dozen others sat over their wine after dinner at +Squire Wiseman's: "Tell you what it is; we must get you a wife; blest if +that wouldn't give you something better to do, my boy, than trying to +make gentlemen of those damn'd skulking labourers." + +The company ha ha'd with delight, and the parson blushed to the very +root of his hair. + +"Capital idea, 'pon my life!" said the host; "and I know just the girl +for you, Codling--at least my wife does, for she was remarking only last +night what a pity it was--" + +"Please, sir," said the butler suddenly, after whispering for a short +time with a maid who had entered the room, "Timms would like to speak +wi' you. He says he's found poacher's snares in the Ashwood coppice, and +he wants two or three fellows to help him watch the place." + +"Damn the fellow! can't he let a man eat his dinner in peace! Tell him +to go to the devil, Robins, and--and I'll see him to-morrow morning." + +"Yes, sir. But, sir, Timms says--" + +"Curse Timms, and you too! Do you hear what I say?" roared the squire, +and Robins vanished. + +The conversation did not get back to the subject of Codling's marriage; +and the host, after playing absently with his glass for a minute or two, +got up hastily, and muttering, "Excuse me, gentlemen, only I think I had +better see Timms after all," left the room. + +That night three poachers--a Warford villager and two shoemakers from +Warwick--were caught in the coppice, and lodged in Warwick jail. + +In two days it was all over Ashbrook village that the vicar was going to +get married. The servants at the Grange had told the news to their +friends in confidence. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +EXHIBITS MORE PHILANTHROPY, OF A MIXED SORT, PLUS A LITTLE FIGHTING--THE +"ALLOTMENT" CURE FOR HUNGER. + + +The village gossips were right. Lady Harriet Wiseman did find the vicar +a wife, though not just then. The vicar's young zeal, his vague ideas, +had first to be moderated or abandoned. Bit by bit he was brought down +to the prosaic realities of parish life, which embraced obligations +unheard of in Holy Writ. That says nothing about the necessity for +upholding feudalism. A mere twelvemonths' labour at reforming the morals +and refining the minds of the rustics by means of the schoolmaster was +not quite enough to bring young Codling to a proper sense of his +position. A few more vagaries, a little further indulgence in the +pleasure of sowing religious wild oats, and then the vicar would be +ready to contract that highly advantageous marriage, which forms the +goal of so many a parson's ambition. + +That accomplished, Codling might be considered tamed. The one further +aberration of his which we have to notice was his plunge into the +allotment agitation. As the excitement over teaching the rustics their +alphabet and multiplication table began to die out in his mind, this +new whim came handily to take its place and prevent him from feeling +like a deserter. Here, he declared, was the true remedy for the miseries +of the rural poor; he had become convinced that to educate them first +was to begin at the wrong end. The first thing was to make them +comfortable in their homes, and then they might learn to read with more +advantage. The schoolmaster was by no means to be thrown over, but +meanwhile Codling said the most important thing was that the labourers +should have patches of land to grow cabbages and potatoes. + +The vicar's new fad, as it was called, did not excite the same amount of +hostility amongst the squirearchy of the neighbourhood as his effort at +education, but the farmers liked it as ill. Squire Wiseman was indeed +opposed to the experiment, and had there been no other landed proprietor +of influence in the parish, the vicar's fuss would have left no results. +But fortunately, in some respects, for the labourers, nearly all +Ashbrook village, and a good deal of the rolling meadow land to the +south of it, and that lay between wooded knolls, belonged to an +eccentric old fellow, named Hawthorn. The people called him Captain +Hawthorn, perhaps to distinguish him from the Squire, but he had never +known more of military life than three months' service as a subaltern in +a militia regiment. This Hawthorn was an oddity. A dry, withered, rather +small man, of between 50 and 60, slovenly in dress, and full of a +sardonic humour, he was constantly to be met walking in the country +lanes, and as often as not conversing with waggoners, poachers, and +such country people as came in his way. He was therefore distrusted by +the other big people of his neighbourhood; but the common people loved +him. The new vicar had hardly been a week in the parish ere he was +warned by the gentry to beware of this old man. Old Polewhele of +Middlebury roundly declared that Hawthorn was an infidel; and the +Dowager-Countess of Leigholm, Lady Harriet Wiseman's mother, felt sure +that he was in league with the Evil One, for he was always muttering to +himself, or else talking to a one-eyed, mangy, tailless cur, that +followed him everywhere, and which had more than once snarled at her in +a very vicious manner. Her ladyship, however, had a private grudge +against him, in that he had on several occasions been wicked enough to +win money from her at cards, and take it too--a crime she was never +known to forgive. + +Whatever his relationship with, or belief in, the unseen powers, +Hawthorn alone of the landed gentry furthered Codling's latest project, +and made it a success in spite of the fact that the fitful zealot was at +the point of throwing the whole thing at his heels in disgust. Codling +felt that he had a right to be disheartened when his projects were not +adopted forthwith, and moreover, he was getting under weigh as a lover, +and that made other occupations irksome. He had done all he could, he +said to himself, and yet nobody was converted. Wiseman laughed at him +good humouredly as usual, and the farmers sent old Sprigg of Knebesley, +as their spokesman, to tell him that in their opinion "'lotments would +be the ruin of all honest labour. Gi'e the labourers land," he said, +"and they'll skulk at home instead of doin' an honest day's work for +us. They're the laziest vagabonds in creation, and the only thing you +can do is to keep them dependent on the rates, and when ye want 'em to +work, stop supplies. Hunger's the only prod for cattle o' that kidney." + +The vicar was rapidly becoming convinced that he had made a mistake, but +he had gone so far that he could hardly at once back out, so he resolved +to make one final attempt to carry his point, in which he would obtain +the aid of a brother parson. This device would, he thought, enable him +to retreat gracefully from his false position. The man he summoned to +his help was a Leicestershire rector, whose consuming zeal had induced +him to become a sort of itinerant evangelist of the allotment system. +What could be better than to get such a brilliant apostle to address a +mass meeting at Ashbrook. With the failure of a prophet to convince +landlords and farmers, Codling felt that his weak-kneedness might be +justified. + +The Rev. Henry Slocome's services were therefore secured, and notices of +the coming meeting were posted on the church doors and in the +neighbourhood for a fortnight in advance. As there was no building large +enough, the meeting was to be held beneath the old elm on Ashbrook +Green. The news excited great interest amongst the labourers who, on the +Saturday evening in July when the meeting was held, gathered to the +number of about 200 men and women from all the villages in the +neighbourhood. A strange sight they presented as they stood with +upturned faces around the waggon on which the vicar, the parish clerk, +and the speaker of the evening were perched. Grey wizened faces, watery +eyes, blueish hungry-like lips these men and women had--a weird, +hopeless-looking, toil-bent congregation of the have-nots. + +Young men were stunted and shrivelled with labour and want, and old men +were gaunt and twisted with exposure, overwork, and rheumatism. Verily +if allotments were to do these people good, the work of the self-chosen +missionary, who had come to set the country on fire, was not to be +contemned. But it boded ill for the success of his efforts that never a +landed proprietor in the district gave the meeting his countenance. +Just, however, as business began the crowd of labourers was recruited by +from 20 to 30 young farmers and farmers' sons. These stood apart, +ranging themselves on the left of the meeting near the churchyard wall, +and rather behind the waggon. They were too far off to hear well, but +near enough for interruptions, and they accordingly indulged frequently +in groans, ironical laughter, or jeers at the labourers. Two of the +Pembertons were there, the two who had succeeded their father at +Whitbury farm, and there also was hulking young Turner from Warwick, +half drunk as usual. + +The labourers themselves were in high good humour, and indulged in a +great deal of rough chaff at each other's expense. A noted poacher in +particular came in for much attention, and amongst other things was +asked if he would "haul a cove afore the justices if he caught him +snaring rabbits in his 'lotment?" But all this was hushed when the vicar +and his ally mounted the waggon and began proceedings. I cannot give you +the speech of the Rev. Henry Slocome, for Thomas had but a dim +recollection of it, his attention being too much occupied watching the +ongoings of the farmers. These for a time contented themselves with +making a noise, but that was far too tame a kind of fun to satisfy such +bright sparks long, and they soon began to shy small pebbles among the +crowd, aiming at such hats or sticks as were prominent. This raised a +clamour which interrupted the meeting, and matters were brought to a +crisis by one of these stones hitting Thomas Wanless on the cheek. It +was a sharp-edged bit of flint which cut the cheek open, and made Thomas +furious. Turning his bleeding face, now barely visible in the gathering +dusk, to the crowd, and heedless of the vicar's shouts for silence, he +exclaimed--"Lads, are you going to stand this stone-throwing any longer; +are these slave-drivers to be allowed to bully us on our own village +green?" + +"No, no, no," shouted the labourers in a chorus. + +"Let us thrash them, then," he replied, "and teach them that we have the +right to live." + +He was answered with a shout and a rush. In vain the orator parson and +the vicar gesticulated and roared; in vain the parish clerk, at +Codlings' suggestion, jumped from the waggon and tried to hold the +people back. The tall figure of Thomas Wanless, the sight of blood on +his face, his fiery looks and determined attitude, completely carried +the labourers away. More stones too were thrown, and the jeers that +accompanied them hurt almost more than stones. A conflict was now +inevitable. + +Seeing the younger labourers gathering round Wanless for an onset, +Turner, ever the leader in mischief, hastily collected his forces, and +drew them back against the churchyard wall. They had hardly time ere the +labourers were upon them. + +"Come on, boys," Wanless shouted, without waiting to form an array, +hardly, indeed, waiting to see who was following him. Clenching his +teeth and drawing himself together he dashed up the slope, and singling +out Turner, closed with him, and sent his stick flying over the +churchyard wall. A moment after Turner himself was rolling amongst the +feet of those who had hurried after Wanless. The strife now became +general, and for a time all was wild confusion. Gradually, however, the +fight, as it were, gathered into knots round the leading men on either +side. Big Tom Pemberton had been struck at by a puny little handful of +pluck, whose slender frame and pinched face indicated an absence of +stamina which ill-fitted him for a struggle with that stalwart bully. He +was instantly caught by the throat and bent backwards. Had Wanless not +happened to look that way Pemberton might have broken his back, for he +proceeded to twist him round and double him over his knee, but Wanless +was passing, and swift as lightning, his stick came down on Pemberton's +head. The blow staggered him, and made him let go. Pushing him aside, +Thomas seized the pale-faced lad and hurried him out of the fight. +Turning, he skirted along the edge of the battle to cheer his comrades +and help others that might be in distress, dealing a blow here, and +tripping up a foe there, and dodging many a stroke aimed at himself. +Comparatively scathless, but somewhat blown, he worked his way back to +the thick of the struggle, and immediately found himself face to face +with the other Pemberton, who had just ended a tough fight with the +blacksmith, and like Wanless, was a little spent. He, however, made for +Thomas the moment he saw him, and they closed in a fierce wrestle. They +tugged and tore at each other for a moment or two, and then went down +together, falling on their sides, Wanless, being, if anything, rather +undermost. In the fight that followed for supremacy, Pemberton's greater +weight, for he was fuller, taller, and stouter than Thomas, seemed to +promise him the victory; but with a violent wrench, Wanless so far freed +himself as to get his knees planted against Pemberton's body, when, with +a final tug, he broke free and sprang to his feet. Bill Pemberton also +scrambled up, and they then began hitting at each other wildly with +their fists. A kind of ring gathered round them, each side cheering its +champion, but the fight was not an equal one. The young farmer was too +fat and heavy, and Thomas's random blows punished him fearfully. Blood +trickled down his face, and he was gasping for breath before they had +fought five minutes, and Thomas finished the contest by rushing at +Pemberton and throwing him crashing amongst his followers' feet. They +dragged him out of the melée, and, their fury redoubled, returned to +make a combined onset on the labourers. Had they been at all equally +matched in numbers, the farmers would now probably have driven their +foes from the field, and, overmatched as they were, they twice forced +the labourers back on the old folks, and women still huddled round the +waggon eagerly watching the fight through the gathering darkness. + +But Wanless and his lieutenant, the young blacksmith, again and again +rallied their forces and advanced to the attack. At last, edging round +to the upper end of the churchyard, which lay aslant a considerable +declivity, they bore down on the flank of the farmers' party, with a +rush that carried everything before it. Before they could rally +themselves, the farmers were huddled together, and, amid random blows, +kicks, and oaths, driven pell mell clear off the green, as far as the +vicarage gate. There they tried to make a stand, but the momentum and +numbers of the labourers, now swollen by many of the women, were too +much for them, and they were finally chased from the village, amid the +derisive shouts of the victors. They retired, cursing and vowing +vengeance as they went. + +The fight over, the people, panting and exhausted, drew slowly together +by the waggon once more, recounting their exploits and showing their +wounds. One man had got his arm broken, and many had severe cuts, +bruises, and sprains, but, on the whole, the damage done had been +slight. + +It was now almost dark, and the crowd soon began to ask whether there +was to be any more speechifying. The old people, who had stayed by the +waggon, thought the meeting must be at an end. "The vicar," they said, +"had gone off in a huff, taking t'other parson wi' him, when he found +nary a one mindin' a bit what he said." So the labourers were in doubts +what to do. Some wanted to go home, having thrashed the farmers, "a +good nights job enough;" others thought a deputation ought to go to the +vicarage to try and mollify the parson, for after all allotments might +be worth having. + +Just as the dispute was waxing warm, the light of a lantern shone out +from behind the tree, and, coming round to the waggon, attracted +attention. Thinking it was the parsons come back, the labourers ceased +their talk to listen; but what they heard was the voice of Captain +Hawthorn swearing at his servant for not lighting the way better. The +servant paid no attention to the oaths, but cast his light over the +waggon, and exclaimed: "Here we are, sir. Here's where the strange cove +was a spouting. But, by the Lord Harry! he's hooked it!" he added in a +disappointed tone. + +"Strange cove! What's that I hear, Francis? Francis, you scamp, don't +you know that's blasphemy? Hooked it! He! he! D---- the fellow! that +comes of picking up London servants." Then, changing his tone, the +Captain almost shouted, "Help me up, Francis. I want to see these +scoundrels. How the devil is a man to get into this waggon? Find me a +chair, will you, eh?" + +"Please, sir, can't you manage to mount by the wheel, sir," answered his +servant, and after some trouble the Captain did get in by the wheel, +swearing much, and followed by his servant with the lantern. The dog +then wanted to mount also, but, being fat and heavy couldn't manage it, +so sat down and began to yelp. This caused a fresh outburst of swearing, +and ultimately Francis had to get out again and hoist the dog in, as +the brute would allow none of the people to touch him. + +Quiet and order being restored, Hawthorn stood forward, took the lantern +from his servant's hand, and, raising it, proceeded very deliberately to +survey the crowd before him. Most of their faces, and many of their +names were well known to him; and he addressed some of those he knew +with some characteristic greeting. The wounded men appeared to interest +him specially, and it was ludicrous to hear him rate one fellow for +being unable to protect his handsome face, and condole with another on +the coming interview with his wife. He discovered the countenance of his +own groom disfigured by a cut on the nose and a black eye, and he held +the light over it, chuckling loudly, till the fellow fairly ducked +under. "Ha, Silas, you thief," he said, "I have always told you that you +would get punished some day for your vanity, and sure enough the +dairymaid will marry the blacksmith in less than a month, if you show +that face to her. Gad, you'll frighten my old mare out of her wits, too, +with that diabolical figure-head of yours. You had better go home to +your mother and get it mended." + +"By heavens," he exclaimed, again casting his light on another face, +"there's poacher Dick. Were you in the fray, Dick, my boy? No, no, it +cannot be; he's been mauling the gamekeepers, and has taken refuge +amongst you lads, eh?" + +"No, no; he fought with us all square," was the answer, and the crowd +laughed, and the Captain chuckled again and again. + +Suddenly laying down the lantern he shouted, "Three cheers for the +victors of Ashbrook fight," a call instantly responded to amid great +good humour and much laughter. + +"Three cheers for the Captain," called a voice in the crowd, and off +went the huzzas again. + +"Drop that nonsense, will you, boys; drop it, I say," roared the +Captain, and added as soon as he could make himself heard above the din, +"what the devil are you cheering me for? I didn't help you to win the +fight, did I?" + +"No, but you cheered us for it," answered a dozen voices together. + +"And that's more than any other squire in Warwickshire would 'a' done," +cried young Wanless. + +"Is that you, Tom Wanless?" queried Hawthorn. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then you are a damned fool, Tom, and know nothing about it. All +Englishmen like to see pluck, don't they, you young rascal?" + +The ironical tone of this query was perceptible to all, and raised an +answering laugh of irony, amid which Wanless shouted back-- + +"We ain't Englishmen, we labourers, except when we list and let +ourselves be shot by the thousand when some big chap with a handle to +his name says, March! An' even then the big chaps get all the rewards, +and such o' the common lot as escape hardly get leave to beg. No, no, +sir; we ain't Englishmen, we are only Englishmen's slaves." + +"Drop that, Tom Wanless," interrupted Hawthorn; "drop it. Good Lord, +man, do you suppose I came here to listen to a speech from you, when I +kept well without earshot of the parsons. And, Gad, that reminds +me--Where are the parsons? Francis! Francis!" + +"Yes sir, yes sir," answered that staid person, hurriedly coming +forward. + +"Humph, making love to the wenches at my very elbow, you graceless dog. +Go and tell the vicar with my compliments, that I want to speak to him +out here in this old waggon with the bottom half out. Gad, I'll be +through it, I do believe, before you get back. Could that shouting +fellow have stamped holes in it," he added to himself, as Francis +disappeared. "Shouldn't wonder," and chuckling again at the idea, he sat +down on the side of the waggon, quite oblivious of the expectant crowd +around him. An impatient hum soon broke on his ear, and he lifted his +head and called out, "Go home to bed, you mutinous pack; you'll be +defrauding your masters of an hour's work to-morrow morning." + +"No fear of that, sir; and we want to hear what you have got to say to +us." + +"Say to you! Ah, yes, to be sure I have something to say; but we must +wait for the parson, boys." + +"Here he comes! Here he comes!" shouted voices from the edge of the +crowd, and after a little bustling the ruddy face of Codling, and the +grey head of his friend gleamed over the side of the waggon in the dim +candle-light. + +"Glad to see you, sir, I'm sure," said Hawthorn to the vicar +graciously; "and you, too, sir," turning to Mr. Slocome. "Sorry I didn't +hear your speech; Gad, you have put new life into the boys; they've +smashed the farmers. 'Pon my soul, sir, I didn't think they had it in +them. You must be a powerful orator, and I wish I had been here sooner." + +"Pardon me, sir, I have not the advantage," stammered Slocome. "I did +not cause the fight, God forbid. I did all I could to stop it; my +mission is not to stir up sedition, sir, but to preach peace." This last +remark in a tone of high offence. + +"He, he, he!" laughed the cynical squire. "Well, well, we shan't dispute +the point. The boys did fight, and well, too, as you must allow. Licked +the farmers, by Jove; and I tell you what, Mr. Vicar," turning again to +Codling, "I mean to show my appreciation of their pluck by doing +something for them. What do you propose it should be?" + +"I'm afraid, sir," answered the vicar, pompously, "I can't abet you in +your design, or lend it my countenance. I am deeply grieved that my +humbler parishioners should have so far forgotten themselves as to +create a disturbance in the village to-night. It has been my wish to do +them good, and for that end I held this meeting, and brought my esteemed +brother here to imbue their minds with the principles of forethought and +thrift. But they interrupted his address with an unseemly riot, led, I +am sorry to say, by a young man of whom I had hoped better things. +Bitterness between man and man, class and class, has been created by the +conduct of which you have been guilty to-night, my friends, and you may +be sure, though I wish you well, it will be long before I again make the +mistake of seeking to increase your material comforts." Turning again to +Hawthorn, he added, "I must beg you to excuse me, sir, but I cannot +remain here to behold a landed proprietor of this parish, the landlord, +in fact, of these villagers, acting as an inflamer of sedition," and +with lofty bow, and a wave of his hand, dimly visible to his listeners, +Codling turned to go. + +"Stay a moment," roared Hawthorn, reaching forth his stick as if to +catch the vicar by the collar of his coat. "Stop, sir; don't let him go, +boys, I also have something to say." The vicar stood still, looking +rather foolish, and Hawthorn continued--"You have made an accusation +against my tenants, and I, as their representative and spokesman, must +ask you to substantiate those charges. I don't care a curse what you say +about myself, but I'm not going to stand by and see these men slandered. +Tell me, sir, who began the disturbance?" + +"It was--I believe--I--fancy--some people on the outskirts of the +meeting--people from Warwick I should imagine." + +"Bah! can't you speak out like a man, instead of beating about the bush +like a fool? Who began the disturbance?" The old Captain was clearly +getting excited. + +"The--the farmers and--but--" blurted out Codling. + +"Ah! the farmers was it?" interrupted Hawthorn, "and would you have had +these lads stand still like asses to be thwacked? Do you mean to come +out here and deliberately blame my tenants for having spirit enough +left to resent insult and abuse? A nice parson you are--a fine preacher +of peace. Suppose it had been the other way, and the farmers had been +taunted and stoned by the labourers until they turned and thrashed them. +What would you have said then? No doubt that these wretches deserved +their fate. I hate all this snivelling cant about the obligation of the +poor to submit to whatever is put upon them." + +Hawthorn spoke fast and bitterly, and, as he ended, his audience broke +into ringing cheers much prolonged. + +Codling stood dumb, and looked so cowed and sheepish that Slocome tried +a diversion. + +"Captain Hawthorn--I believe--and good people," he began, but his voice +was drowned amid cries of "Silence--hold your tongue; we want to hear +the Captain." + +"I have a little more to say, my boys," Hawthorn answered. "My chief +object in coming here, and in asking the Vicar to come here, was to tell +you that I have decided to assign to you, the men of my own village, the +twenty acre field just by on Warwick road, to be made into allotment +gardens. I admire"--but he got no further. Shout upon shout, the men +cheered, and the women wept and laughed by turns, as if the speaker had +promised them all fortunes. The announcement was so unexpected, and the +way it was made went so about the hearts of these poor villagers, that +they could have hugged the old Captain to death for joy had he let +himself within their reach. As it was, they crowded round the waggon to +shake hands with him, hustling the Vicar and his friend out of the way, +and it was fully five minutes before order could be restored. During the +hubbub the Vicar and Mr. Slocome managed to slink away. What Codling may +have thought about his own conduct on that evening no one can say, but +he evidently resented Hawthorn's freedom of speech most bitterly. He was +disgusted also that the people should have got their allotments so +obviously without his help, and from this time forth he may be said to +have abjured philanthropy. Henceforth he found it safer and much more +pleasant to confine his attention to Church ritual and the worship of +feudalism. + +The labourers never missed the Vicar in their delight over Hawthorn's +announcement. They wanted to escort him home in a body, but he would not +hear of it. He peremptorily ordered them to go home to bed, and departed +with his servant and his dog. A few of the younger men followed him to +the end of the village, then sending a parting cheer after him quickly +dispersed. Thus ended the great Ashbrook allotment meeting. It was a +nine days' wonder in the neighbourhood, and the oddities of Hawthorn +were held to be dangerous by the squires, while farmers cursed him for +his liberality. But these things did not prevent the labourers from +obtaining their allotments, and they were thereby rendered perhaps a +degree less hungry for a time. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +DISCLOSES AN EXCELLENT, INFALLIBLE AND ARISTOCRATIC PLAN FOR +MANUFACTURING CRIMINALS. + + +Nothing serious came directly of the Ashbrook fight. There was a talk of +bringing certain labourers before the justices, and the Pembertons in +particular uttered loud threats against Tom Wanless, young Satchwell, +the blacksmith, and one or two others; but old Hawthorn let it be widely +known that if any steps were taken to prosecute the labourers, he would +not only provide means for their defence, but enable them also to raise +counter actions, in support of which he would compel the Vicar to enter +the witness-box. That did not suit the farmers or their abettors, still +less Codling, so after a little noisy squabbling the matter dropped. + +Henceforth, however, the feud, if such it may be called, between the +Pembertons and Wanless was renewed, and became on their part a sleepless +desire for petty vengeances. They never missed the smallest opportunity +of making him feel their ill-will. Thomas had in other ways enough to +bear with in those days, helped though he was by his freehold cottage +and allotment. His intelligence told against him with most of the +farmers, making them regard him with hatred and suspicion. So he got no +opportunity of bettering himself, was, indeed, hardly able to keep his +head above water by the severest labour. Many a time did he see other +and less skilled workmen preferred before him, and often in harvest had +he to work as one of a gang of reapers under another contractor, instead +of himself taking the lead. This, by and by, caused him to try and find +work at greater distances from home, and he was occasionally away for +months at a time wood-cutting, ditch-cutting, toiling early and late for +what pittance he could pick up, while his wife struggled at home to make +ends meet in spite of her increasing family. By the time Thomas was 35 +years old, she had borne him eight children, of whom seven were alive, +and it was almost more than mortal could do to bring these up decently +on 9s. or 10s. a-week. How his neighbours, who had rent to pay, managed, +was more than Thomas could divine, unless they quietly stole what was +not given them; as, indeed, most of them did. Many also were so +demoralised as to look upon poor relief as a perquisite which they +thought it no shame to accept, and even demand, on all occasions. Nearly +all poached game, when they had a chance, and boasted of it to each +other. In regard to game there was, in fact, no consciousness of +wrong-doing in the mind of any labourer, and Thomas himself thought +nothing of killing a rabbit or leveret when he had the chance; the only +anxiety was not to be caught doing it. There was a clear distinction in +his mind between slaying wild animals protected by selfish and +abominable laws, and stealing vegetables, fowls, stray eggs, or fruit, +which many of his comrades made a practice of doing, pleading in their +defence that man must live. + +Thomas Wanless had a soul above petty thieving of this kind. Not only +was he naturally high-spirited and jealous of a good conscience, but his +mind had become considerably expanded by diligent cultivation. He did +not again forget his reading, and though his books were few, he still +contrived to read enough on odd Sundays in summer, and in the winter +evenings, to stimulate his naturally strong thinking powers. His +friends, the blacksmith and the parish clerk, were also often in his +company, and the three discussed matters of Church and State in the +freest possible style over their jugs of thin ale. Poor Brown, the +parish clerk and schoolmaster, had not improved his prospects by +settling in Ashbrook, for the vicar had long ceased to interest himself +in the education of the poor, and the school emoluments had become +meagre enough. But Brown had married, and so was, in a measure, rooted +to the spot, not knowing where to better himself. + +He eked out his parish clerkship with odd accountant jobs for +surrounding farmers, and occasionally picked up a crown or two by acting +as clerk at country auctions, and his greatest earthly blessing was a +contested parliamentary election. Yet life was hard for him withal, and +his Radicalism naturally was bitter, for adversity is the best nursery +of democratic ideas. It is only the noblest natures that can enjoy +prosperity, and yet be just and considerate towards all men. Too often +the man who when poor was a blatant Radical becomes a hollow tin kettle +sort of creature when he has struggled up from the earth where his +Radicalism took birth. I say not that Brown was of this sort, but +undeniably poverty and disappointment put an edge on his wit when he +dealt with the inequalities of life, and under his leadership Thomas +Wanless stood in no danger of becoming an unquestioning pauper. The +three friends solved social problems in a style that would have amazed +their superiors had they known; nay, that they would have even startled +some of the limp and dilettante friends of the people who, in these +days, haunt London clubs, and dilate with wondrous volubility on social +reform. Thomas's Radicalism, however, never interfered with his work, +for his family was more to him than the ills of the State. He viewed +these wrongs, perhaps, from too narrow a standpoint for him to be a +great social reformer. He felt for his little ones, and for his once +blooming, patient wife--now grown brown, gaunt, and hollow-eyed from +incessant care, toil, and privation--and the disjointed order of society +was to him a personal wrong. His life was, indeed, cheerless; and after +his father died and his brother had been killed by a fall from a rick, +he often felt lonely and sullen at the heart, working against his fate +as a prisoner might in chains. For him this life had no hope, no +prospect of rest but the grave. + +Struggling bravely, though bitter at the heart, Thomas dragged his +family through the terrible years that followed the passing of the +Reform Bill--years during which his wife and children were almost as +familiar with want as with the light of the sun. How they survived he +could hardly tell. "My remembrance of that time," he one day said to +me, "is but a kind of confused dream. I ceased to think or feel. I just +worked where and when I could; and I swallowed my crust like a dumb +beast. But now I thank God that I had health, though then to commit +murder would at times to me have seemed as nothing." + +In that time Thomas became a strong Chartist, and was a leader among his +fellows; and, feeling as he did, it says much for his force of character +that there were no outbreaks by the Ashbrook villagers such as occurred +in many parts of Warwickshire at that time. His opinions, however, were +well known, and he was called a rogue freely enough by his enemies the +farmers. More than once he might have suffered unjust imprisonment for +his freedom of speech at village gatherings and elsewhere, had not old +Squire Hawthorn stood his friend. Ever since Ashbrook fight, that +strange old man had taken a special interest in Thomas. It only +extended, however, to occasional efforts to keep him out of the grip of +the justices, and could hardly perhaps have gone further, for Thomas was +proud; and, besides, he was a labourer, and in that lowly lot he was +predestined by the laws of the landed oligarchy to remain. Over the +great gulf fixed by that mighty trades union of the Take-alls he could +never pass. + +So passed the years of my friend's early manhood. He was familiar with +care; poverty was his abiding portion. A young family gathered round his +knee; which he tried to bring up in less ignorance than had been his +early lot, but whom he could not always keep less hungry. Thomas had +many times difficulty in providing his household with a sufficiency of +coarse dry bread. Insufficiently nourished his children were weakly and +stunted; little able to wrestle with disease. His two eldest boys were +sent to work for good at the age of ten; and the younger of the two died +through exposure and hunger before he was twelve. The girls were kept +longer at home, hard though the fight for life was; but the third boy +(Thomas) was taken on at Squire Hawthorn's own farm, at 2s. per week, +when he was little over nine. That same year, Thomas himself had had a +fine spell of harvesting; and his wife, having no new baby to provide +for, had saved a few shillings by selling vegetables from the allotment +garden, to people in Warwick town, so that the winter was faced by the +couple in better heart than they had known almost since the day they +were married. A pound or two in hand after meeting the bills that the +harvest money had to pay! Surely greater bliss no man could know. The +thought of such riches made Thomas declare that he might yet escape the +workhouse, as, thank God, his father had done. Already, though not forty +years old, the shadow of that accursed refuge of the English poor had +begun to loom over Thomas's future, grim and horrible as the gate of +Hell. As he thought, in his hours of bitterness, of whither his endless +toil was carrying him, of the sole "good" that the Take-alls left to him +and such as him, he set his teeth and cursed his country. Nor would he +believe that for this he had been born. His soul was bitter within him, +and, young as he yet was, hard work and harder fare were telling on his +stalwart frame. + +But this autumn had brought him a gleam of hope; and the stirring events +of the time helped to strengthen that hope. All things were changing. +The great towns had been roused into political activity by the Reform +Bill, and railways were fast revolutionising the habits of the people +the land through, as well as opening up new fields of labour. At last, +then, and even in sleepy, wealth worshipping, hide-bound England, +democracy might be considered born. Thomas was sanguine that in the +coming struggles the people would win, and, like all sanguine believers +in the future good, his belief expected instant fulfilment. The apostles +themselves lived in the belief that the end of the world was at hand. +Might not the way-worn and heart-weary agricultural labourer therefore +hope? Thomas Wanless, at least, did so. The world was changing for +others; for him and his also better times might be at hand. Hitherto, +alas, the changes had been mostly to his hurt. Railway-making itself had +done his class harm rather than good, for the new iron roads linked the +country more and more closely to the great centres of industry. Prices +of all kinds of agricultural produce went higher and higher, but without +bringing a corresponding increase in the labourer's pay. The landowner +grabbed all he could of the augmented gains, and what he left the farmer +took. For the hind was there not still the workhouse? Yet the demand for +labour was increasing fast, and not all the hungry kerns of Ireland +seemed able to meet that demand. For once Thomas and his wife had +enjoyed a good year. Was not Leamington Priors growing a big town +moreover, and going to have a college of its own to outshine Rugby +itself? Surely Ashbrook would benefit from the nearness of so much +wealth as this implied. The grounds for this hope were many and obvious. +Thomas might yet rent his own little farm, and be independent. His +ambition ran no higher, yet the indulgence of it proved him to be a +short-sighted fool. + +At this time Thomas was an odd or day labourer, taking contract jobs on +his own account when he could get them, and working for a daily wage +when these failed. This winter found him at work grubbing up old hedges, +and helping to lay out anew some land on a farm of Lord Duckford's +beyond Radbury. He had to walk about four miles each way daily to and +from his work, but as the days were short he lost no time, and the +company of a fellow villager engaged with him at the same job made the +trudge lighter. And the hopes that lay around his heart helped him more +than aught else, as they always help us poor will-o'-the-wisp-led +mortals in this dark world. + +Alas for these hopes! Thomas Wanless had not been a month at his new +work when an epidemic of scarlet fever broke out at Ashbrook, and +amongst the first to catch the disease was his youngest child, a girl of +two years. Ere ten days had elapsed five out of his seven surviving +children were down with the treacherous disease. His eldest boy and girl +had had it years before, but the boy was sent home from the farm where +he worked for fear of spreading contagion, and the girl was little more +than nine years old, so that she could not do much to help the +overworked mother. + +Crowded together in the long low-roofed attic of the cottage, three of +the five lay helpless and wailing for many days. After the first week +the other two whose attack had been slight got out of bed, but were kept +in the same room to avoid cold. The food of all was poor, the medical +attendance miserable and infrequent. Thomas's heart was nearly broken. +All his hopes vanished, and the old bitterness settled down on his +spirit. The rage of helplessness often swept over him as he looked at +his tired and harassed wife, or thought of her left alone, day in and +out, with those sick children. The little savings would mostly be needed +for the doctor's bill; there was only the 10s. a-week that Thomas +happily still earned to stand between the whole family and want. Can +anyone wonder that Thomas grew moody, and glowered at the world to which +he owed so little? + +One evening, in the middle of the third week of their affliction, as he +and neighbour Robins were trudging home together through the perplexing +obscurity of a grey November fog, the latter said-- + +"Couldn't we get a rabbit or two, Tummas? They'd make a nice pot for the +young ones, poor things; better nor barley gruel, any way." + +"I don't mind," said Thomas, in an indifferent tone. "But where can we +come at 'em?" + +"Oh, there's a warren up in Squire Greenaway's fir coppice to the left +here, just off the Banbury road. We can beat it in five minutes. Come +on," he added, seizing Thomas's arm. + +"All right, let's have some o' the wermin," his friend answered, and +presently they turned off the road, making for the coppice. + +"You keep up by the fence here, and you'll strike the edge of the wood +in no time," said Robins. "The burrows lie mostly along to the right. +Crouch down by the holes and be ready. I'll walk round the field and +drive the bunnies in. There's sure to be lots feedin' to-night in old +Claypole's turmuts." + +Thomas obeyed, and the two at once lost sight of each other. Robins, it +is to be feared, had often helped himself to a rabbit before now, here +and elsewhere, but by some chance Thomas had never yet been a regular +poacher. He could not say why, for certainly he had no respect for the +game laws. Such, however, was the fact, and he said a queer kind of +feeling came over him when he found himself alone, and realised the +errand he was upon. But his mind was in tone to be tempted now, and he +never thought of turning back. There was, indeed, little time to think +of it, for he was among the rabbit-holes in a minute, and choosing a +handy bush where the holes were thick he knelt down, grasped his stick +and waited. Presently he heard a low whistle from the field below, but +quite near, and almost as it reached his ears rabbits by the dozen came +hopping up cautiously, and with frequent pauses of watchfulness. The +foremost caught sight of Thomas and scudded to the left, whither the +whole troop might have followed had not Robins at that instant rushed +up and sent a batch of the scared creatures right amongst Thomas's feet. +Ere they could get under ground he managed to knock over three, and +Robins himself maimed but did not succeed in catching a fourth. Two of +the three knocked over were not quite dead, but Robins at once finished +them, and as he did so, said:-- + +"Look here Tummas, you takes the two big uns. You're more in need o' 'em +than me," and as he would take no denial the spoil was so divided. + +Thomas thanked his friend, and stowing the rabbits inside their coats as +best they could, the two carefully made their way out of the coppice, +and again took the road for home. + +By this time it was very dark, and the fog thicker than ever, so that +they had never a thought of danger. Yet they had not been unobserved. +Tom Pemberton, as ill-luck would have it, had been passing the coppice +while the two labourers were after the rabbits, and had either heard +their voices or the whistling, made more audible by the fog. Suspecting +that poachers were at work, and always eager to do his fellow man an ill +turn, Pemberton stopped his walk, and stole along the edge of the field +till he reached the gate, where he crouched for his prey. In a few +minutes the voices of the approaching labourers reached his ears, and +being a coward he crawled along the ground, and lay down in the frozen +ditch lest he should be seen, but still kept well within earshot. To his +intense satisfaction he recognised one at least of the men by his voice, +as they passed him, unconscious of his presence. Robins he could not be +sure of, but he had only too good cause to recollect the voice of +Wanless. The two were talking of the pleasure their families would have +in eating stewed rabbit, and doubtless Pemberton chuckled to himself as +he heard. But he had the prudence to keep quite still until the +labourers got well beyond hearing. Then he arose and went on his mission +of evil. The unsuspecting labourers trudged home in peace. Thomas with +even a flicker of gladness at his heart, a flicker that deepened to a +glow of thankfulness, when he reached his cottage and learned that the +doctor had pronounced the child who had suffered most out of danger. She +was the youngest but one, a little girl of four. Before her illness she +had been a fair-haired, delicate-looking, but healthy child, with +bright, engaging ways, and a sweet merry voice, a great favourite of her +father's. Now she was thin and worn, and her lips had become dry and +cracked with the fire that had burned and burned in her little body, +till all its flesh was consumed. Night after night Thomas had come home, +and, changing his wet clothes, had, after a hasty supper, gone up beside +his little ones to watch and tend them in the early night, while the +mother tried to snatch an hour or two's sleep. Through these weary weeks +nothing had wrung his heart so keenly as the sore battle for life made +by wee Sally. Hour after hour her little transparent feverish hands +would clutch his nervously, as she lay panting in his arms, or wander +pitifully about his weather-worn face, her burning touch causing him to +shiver to the very marrow of his bones. + +"I'se so ill, daddy; I'se so ill," she would keep moaning, and sometimes +she would start screaming from an uneasy slumber that gave no rest. +Then she grew too ill to speak, and lay gasping and delirious in the +close, ill-ventilated attic beside her two sisters, who were themselves +part of the time too ill to raise their heads. Thomas thought that death +had come for his little girl the night before he brought the rabbits +home, and the nearer death seemed to come the more agonising grew the +pain at his heart. His wife and he together had watched by Sally's cot +till towards morning, fearing that each moment she would choke. But +about half-past two the breath began to be more free; she swallowed a +little weak tea, and gradually fell into the quietest sleep she had had +for more than ten days. + +When Thomas left for his day's work she was asleep still, and he had +held the hope that she would yet get better to his heart all day. So +mixed are the motives that sway men that this very hope made him the +more ready to go after the rabbits. The savoury broth might help his +little ones--and Sally. + +So they were glad that night in the little Ashbrook Cottage. Sally had +slept till daylight, and woke quiet, cooler-skinned and hungry. The +doctor said she would live yet. Thomas went up as usual beside his +little ones, and told them about the rabbits that Robins and he had +caught, making them laugh at the thought of to-morrow's treat. He had +not waited for supper, and his wife brought it up stairs, spreading it +out at the foot of the bed where "baby" and "bludder" Jack lay, and then +the whole family enjoyed the luxury of a cup of tea in honour of Sally's +improvement. How little the labourer suspected then that the hand of +vengeance was already stretched forth to blast him and his joys, it +might be, for ever. Yet so it was, and thus does life ever mock us, +especially if we be poor. And had not Thomas sinned against the English +Baal. The sacred laws of property had been violated by him; he had +entered its holy of holies--a game preserve--and must bear the penalty. + +The thought did not quite thus shape itself in Tom Pemberton's mind as +he crept from his lair and made off as fast as the thick gloom would +permit him, to Squire Greenaway's gamekeeper's cottage; but his heart +exulted at the thought of the vengeance it was now in his power to +wreak. That very night he hoped to see the hated Wanless locked up. In +this hope, however, he was disappointed. The gamekeeper was not at home, +nor could his wife say exactly where he was. Probably she knew well +enough; and certain gamedealers in Leamington also were likely to know, +for, like most of his class, this fellow was only a licensed poacher; +but Pemberton had to be content with his answer. He told the keeper's +wife that he wanted some poachers apprehended, and that he would return +to-morrow. + +Sure enough he came, and came early, but the keeper was again out, +setting his gins probably, and had left word that he would not be back +till dinner-time. Ultimately, Pemberton met his man, and the two decided +to go and seize Wanless at night in his own cottage. Accordingly, that +same evening as Thomas and his family were enjoying their supper +together in the attic, they were disturbed by a rude thumping at the +door and before Thomas himself could get down to see who was there, the +latch was lifted, and in walked Tom Pemberton with the gamekeeper at his +heels. The latter was a squat, ill-favoured, heavy man, with small +piercing eyes that were never at rest. He sniffed noisily as he entered, +and gave vent to a gleeful chuckle as he caught sight of Wanless. Dull +Pemberton had grown fat and bloated-looking since the days of the +allotment agitation, but his usually stolid, sodden-looking features, +were to-night almost animated by the leer of triumph which had displaced +the customary sullen vacuity. Yet he was not at his ease; and when +Thomas, divining the men's purpose, drew himself up, and holding up his +rushlight the better to see the faces of his visitors, flashed a look of +scornful defiance at the farmer, that worthy drew back involuntarily. + +But the keeper had no feelings, and at once struck in with-- + +"Sorry to hinterrup' yer feast, my man; but we want ye, d'ye see. God! +what a prime smell! Kerruberatin' evidence, eh, farmer? Ye've been +poachin', Wanless, that's evident; an' the Squire'll be glad to speak +wi' ye about it. Ha! ha!" + +For a moment Thomas felt disposed to fight. A thrill of fury swept +through him, and he wished he could tear keeper and farmer in pieces +with his hands. But that soon passed, and he stood dumbfounded. Hearing +the strange voices, his wife stole down the stair, followed by the three +children who were able to be about the house, and two of these latter, +catching a vague fear of danger, began to cry. Young Tom did not weep, +but stole softly up to his father's side. But a minute before all had +been happiness, such happiness as a family of miserable groundlings +might dare to feel, and now---- + +Bah! Why give a thought to such wretches. They can have no feelings like +my lord and the squire, or his scented and sanctified parsonship. And +yet the cold night wind made these sick children shiver as you or I +might; and the stricken wife, who had caught the purport of the keeper's +speech, was just as ready to faint with grief and terror, as if she had +had your feelings or mine. Her first act was to protect the children +from harm by trying to shut the door; but Pemberton, with a growl, +pushed her back, and she then gathered them in her arms, and sat down on +an old box by the fire, weeping silently. + +Still Thomas stood, silent but not cowed, and the keeper's wrath began +to blaze up. + +"Come along, man," he growled, "none of yer hobstinincy, now. We don't +want no scenes here; none o' yer blubberin' wife and family kick-ups. +Come along." + +Then Pemberton plucked up heart to laugh. With a mocking hee! hee! hee! +he said-- + +"We've got you now, Wanless, and no mistake, you d----d old blackguard, +an' we'll tame that devilish spirit of yours afore we're done wi' ye. +Roast me if we don't." + +His voice roused the spirit of Wanless once more. Clenching his hands he +stepped forward, moving the keeper aside, and putting his fist in +Pemberton's face, said, in a voice that quivered with concentrated +passion-- + +"Hold your tongue, you black-hearted scoundrel, and leave my house this +instant, or I'll throw you out at the door. What right have you to enter +my door? Be off!" + +Pemberton shrank back and looked as if he thought it might be best for +him to obey; but the keeper grasped Thomas by the collar from behind and +swung him round, at the same time saying-- + +"Come, come, none o' this nonsense now, Wanless. I'll have no fightin' +here, or, by God, if you do I'll transport you, sure's my name's Crabb. +You must go with us quietly." + +At the threat of transporting him, Thomas's wife uttered a shrill cry of +horror, and Thomas himself grew pale, but he was now too much stirred to +yield at once. Instead, he shook off the keeper's hand; and demanded +fiercely what right he had to arrest him. + +The keeper laughed mockingly. + +"Well now, that is a good un'. Why, damme, you've been poaching." + +"How do you know that? And what is it to you if I have?" + +"How do I know? Why, bless my life, I can smell it, you fool. But I +beant here to hargify the p'int. I harrest ye on a criminal charge, +Wanless, that's all; and I've brought the bracelets, my boy. Just the +correct horneyments for chaps like you, he, he," croaked the keeper, +with malign glee. + +"But where's your warrant?" urged Thomas. "You have no right to enter a +man's own house in this way, and haul him wherever you like when it +suits you to put out your spites on him. Poachers, faith; who's a +poacher, I'd like to know, if you ain't? Leave my house, both of you, +or, by God, I'll rouse the village. Tom, Tom," he added, turning to his +son, who had again crept to his side, "go and find Sutchwell, and Pease, +and----" + +"Hold hard there, you ---- fool," roared the keeper. "Curse you, d'ye +suppose we came here to stand your insolence." + +Pemberton closed the door and put his back to it. + +"Look ye here, my fine haristocrat," continued the keeper in the +boundless wrath of fear, "look ye here, if you don't go quietly, devil +take me if I don't get ye a trip to Botany Bay for this job. I'm a sworn +constable, and I've got the justices' warrant, surely that's 'nuff for +thieves like you. Come, farmer Pemberton," he added more quietly, "help +me to hornament this gent," and in a very brief space the two mastered +and handcuffed the labourer. + +He, indeed, made little resistance, for he began to see that he was at +the mercy of these scoundrels. His wife clung to him, but they tore her +roughly away. The children wailed in chorus, and "bludder Jack" crept +downstairs in his thin nightgown to see what was causing the hubbub, +howling like the rest without knowing why. But it was soon all over. +Thomas barely got time to kiss his wife, and to whisper to her to tell +Hawthorn, ere he was out of the cottage and away with his captors. All +down the little village street the shrieks of his family rung in his +ears, and his heart within him was like to burst with grief, +humiliation, and impotent wrath. + +That night he was formally committed by Squire Greenaway himself to be +tried for poaching, before the justices at Leamington Priors, on Tuesday +next. This was Friday. + +In due course Thomas Wanless appeared before the "Justices"--God save +them! and, after a very brief trial, was "let off," as one phrased it, +with six months' hard labour in Warwick Jail. The only evidence against +him was that of Tom Pemberton, but he made no attempt to deny the +charge, and as the squires already considered him a "dangerous" fellow, +they thought their sentence a model of clemency. So did Pemberton and +Keeper Crabb. His judges were Wiseman, Greenaway, the man whose vermin +he had helped to thin by just three rabbits, Parson Codling, of +Ashbrook, and a bibulous old creature who lived in Leamington Priors, a +retired Birmingham merchant, who had been made J.P. for his subservience +to the Tories. Greenaway was violent, and rather disposed to give an +"exemplary" sentence; Wiseman was contemptuously indifferent, as became +a big acred man and the husband of a woman with a handle to her name; +and Parson Codling was unctuously severe. + +An attempt was made to get Wanless to tell the name of his co-offender, +but that he refused, so he was told that his obstinacy had prevented a +more lenient sentence, which was false. But something is due to +appearances at times, and even from such divine personages as justices +of the peace. So careful was the "bench" of proprieties on this +occasion, that Codling, on a hint from the chairman, gave Wanless the +benefit of a short exhortation before consigning him to the salutary +and eminently Christian discipline of the jailer. In the course of this +homily, Codling took occasion to observe that he had once hoped better +things of the prisoner, but had long ago been forced to give him up. +"With grief and sorrow," said the parson, "I have again and again +watched his obduracy, and his tendency to consort with agitators, or +worse. His fate will, I trust, be a warning to others." + +This Parson Codling you will perceive had become tame. Once on a time he +had been almost given over to agitation himself; but that danger soon +passed, and he was now a proper ornament to and supporter of the British +hierarchy. Its morals were his morals. He knew no god but the god of the +landed gentry. In his youth the functions of the priestly office had +been misunderstood by him; but he had married soon after we last met him +a gentlewoman of Worcestershire with £2,000 a year, and that cured him +of many weaknesses--amongst others of the foolish craze he once had that +the religion of Christ was a religion to be practised. He now knew that +it was nothing of the kind. Certain tenets of it had been made up into a +creed "to be said or sung," and a singularly complex institution called +the Church had been elaborated for the good of public morals, and the +support of the English aristocracy--that was all. Therefore could he now +wag his head pompously at poor Tom Wanless standing dumb before him; +therefore could he now raise his fat soft hands, and thrust from his +sight with sanctimonious horror that criminal guilty of rabbit murder. +A stranger, unfamiliar with the usages of rural England--that country +whose liberties, we are told, all nations admire and envy--might have +supposed that Wanless was some foul manslayer, some midnight assassin +meeting his just doom. Unhappy stranger, woe on thy ignorance. Know thou +that in England no crime is so heinous as the least approach to +rebellion against the sacred rights of the Have-alls? "Touch not the +land nor anything that is thereon," is to the English landholder all the +law and the prophets. So Codling cursed Wanless for his crime, and the +doom-stricken labourer passed from his sight. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +MAKES KNOWN THE EXCELLENT QUALITIES OF JAIL LIFE. + + +Captain Hawthorn had been duly apprised of Thomas's misfortune, but was +unable to do anything directly to help him. Because of his obnoxious +opinions Hawthorn was not a justice of the peace; and he felt that any +attempt on his part to appear as the labourer's champion might only end +in making the poor fellow's sentence all the heavier. Since the Reform +Bill and the Chartist agitations had alarmed the landholders, they had +shown less disposition than ever to admit such a nondescript radical as +Hawthorn into their society; and his interference in local affairs was +so prominently resented on several occasions that he had almost ceased +to attempt any. He had even some difficulty in obtaining access to +Wanless in jail; but ultimately succeeded, by the help of a little +judicious bribery, and the friendly assistance of a mountebank drunken +parson, who was in jail for debt during six days of the week, but got +bailed out on Sundays, so that he might edify his flock and keep down +expenses. + +The old man's first greeting to Wanless was in his customary rough +form. + +"Well, Tom, a nice ass you have made of yourself. Why the devil hadn't +you more sense, man? Eh? D--n it, you might have taken some of my +rabbits, my boy, and never a keeper would have said you nay." + +This was true enough, for Hawthorn had now no keeper, and, for that +matter, little game. He allowed his tenants to do as they pleased, and +one of the deepest grievances his neighbours had against him, was that +these tenants thinned their game wherever their lands marched with his. + +To this sally Thomas, however, made no answer beyond a smothered groan. +The man's spirit was too much broken to bear rough comfort of this kind, +as his visitor instantly perceived. Changing his tone at once, the +Captain bent over the bench where the prisoner sat hanging his head, and +laying his hand on Thomas's shoulder, added-- + +"Come, come, Tom, my boy; bless my life! don't lose heart because you've +been a fool. I'll see that the chicks don't starve, and you'll soon be +out of this, and a man again." + +The kind tones of Hawthorn's voice affected Tom more even than the +promise. He tried to speak, but his voice broke in sobs. + +"Tut, tut. 'Pon my life, don't, Tom, d--n it, man, don't," spluttered +the Captain; but, as Tom did not stop, he grasped his hand suddenly and +gave it a hearty grip. Then he turned and fled, afraid probably of +himself betraying his feelings. + +His visit did Thomas much good, and he bore his trials more patiently +henceforth, though the bitterness of his heart at times nearly maddened +him. I can never forget the description which he gave me in after days +of the agonies suffered by him during those horrible six months. We were +seated together in his little garden one September evening, the sun was +far down in the west, the ruddy glow of a calm, bright autumn evening +fell athwart Wanless's grey, worn face, lighting it with a sober +brilliance that fitted well the fixed look of sadness that sat on it as +he then told me of that dark time. His voice was calm for the most part, +although full of subdued passion; and the impression his narrative made +on me was so deep that I can almost give you his very words. + +"At first," said he, "I felt like a caged wild beast, and could do +nothing but chafe. The night in the keeper's out-house, where the +villain kept me to save himself trouble, with both hands and feet +cruelly tied, had been bad enough; and the nights and days in Leamington +lock-up were hard to bear, but a kind of hope sustained me, and I did +not fully comprehend what loss of liberty was till I lay in Warwick +Jail. For three nights after I entered that hell upon earth I did not +sleep a wink. The very air I breathed seemed to choke me. Sometimes I +felt so mad that I could hardly keep from dashing my head against the +walls of the cell. Had I been alone perhaps I might have done it, but +there were five beside myself cooped up in a den not much bigger than my +kitchen, and in the darkness I was for a time horribly afraid lest one +or other of these men should do me an injury. Though in one sense eager +for death, I did not like being killed; and when not raging I was +trembling with fear. It was nervousness, no doubt, but you can hardly +wonder when I tell you what my neighbours were. One was a burglar from +Birmingham, sentenced to transportation for stealing a coat from +somebody's hall; two were miners from Dudley way, "doing" sixty days for +kicking a chum and breaking his leg, another was a wild, brutish-like +day labourer, who had got six months at last Assizes for cutting his +wife's throat, not quite to the death, and the last was a poor, hungry +youth of a tailor's apprentice, who had got the same sentence for +stealing some cloth. We were a strange lot, and I feared these men in +the darkness. If one moved, my heart leapt to my mouth; and the horrible +language in which some of them indulged, made my flesh creep. That wild +labourer especially terrified me. What if the murderous frenzy was to +come upon him, and he should try to throttle me in the dark. + +"After a few nights, exhausted nature asserted herself, and I slept. +Then other thoughts arose in my heart that were still worse to +bear--thoughts about my wife and family. Sarah had been allowed to speak +to me for a minute or two before I was removed from the Leamington +Courthouse to jail, and she then told me that Jack and Fanny caught cold +_that_ night, and threatened dropsy. Lucy, also, had had a relapse of +the fever. Poor woman, she looked so broken-hearted and worn-out like, +and I could say nothing, still less do anything now. 'Oh, Tummas, +Tummas, that it should a' coom to this' she cried, and wept bitterly +behind her thin old shawl. It was the shawl I married her in, sir; and +I thought on the past and the future till I, too, broke down and cried +like a child. But what good was that to her; to either of us? Well; I +couldn't help it. + +"Then she picked up a bit, and tried to cheer me, as women will when the +worst comes. She told me that Mrs. Robins was very kind, and had come to +look after the children for her that day, having none of her own, and no +fear of the infection, and she was sure that the neighbours would never +see her want. That was some comfort at the time; but once I came to +myself in jail the thought that I was now helpless, that my family might +be dying and I unable to reach them, raised anew the agony in my mind. I +saw them gathered round our Sally's bed weeping for their absent father. +My wife's weary looks and thin white face haunted me in the night +seasons far worse than the wife mutilator. What could neighbours do for +her in such a strait; what could I do now? The thought of my +helplessness came over me with waves of agonising self-abasement and +disgust, till my nerves seemed to crack and my brain spin round. Often +did I stuff my sleeve into my mouth to stop myself from crying out as I +lay tossing on the floor of the den. I would beat my head with my +clenched hands till the sparks danced in my eyes, and groan till my +neighbours muttered curses through their sleep. Oh, I thought, if I +could but get an hour with my little ones, to see wee Sally and the baby +in their bed, to watch poor Jack and Fan, and help the worn out mother. +An hour! nay, half an hour, only five minutes! God, it was unbearable; +it was hell to be caged like this! + +"And what had I done to be thus torn from my wife and children, and made +to consort with brutal criminals? What had I done? Killed three rabbits, +vermin that curse God's earth and devour the bread of the poor. They +belonged to nobody any more'n rats or mice or weasels, and did nobody +good in this world. Why, the man that had nearly killed his wife was not +harder treated than me. What then was my crime? Was I indeed a criminal? +I asked myself again and again, and the answer came--'No, Tom Wanless, +but you were worse; you were a fool. You knew the power of the +landlords; you knew that to them the rabbit was a sacred animal, and +that they could punish you if they caught you. You were a fool ever to +put yourself in their clutches.' Ah yes, there was the sting of it. How +could I hope to escape doom when all the world except the labourers were +on one side. + +"But though I saw I had been a fool; that made me no better in my mind; +rather worse; for, as I tossed and raved in my heart, I took to cursing +squire and parson: I cursed, too, the land of my birth, and ended by +cursing the God who made me. Ay, that did I. In the darkness I mocked at +Him, I swore at Him, and told Him that I wouldn't believe there was a +God at all. Why, if He lived, did he suffer scoundrels to call +themselves His chosen people, and mock Him by their chattering prayers +and mumblings all the time that they lived only to oppress the poor. +Life was a curse if that was right. + +"Well," Thomas continued, after a short pause, during which he leant +back and watched the changing tints of gold flitting across the western +sky, "well, that mood also passed, and after the old captain had been to +see me I got a little quieter. But the jailers did not make life easy +for me, I can tell you. Because I was silent, speaking little, eating +little, and hardly fit for the task they set me upon that weary +treadmill, they gave me a taste of the whip many a time, and abused me +for a sullen gallows bird, but I paid no heed. + +"Within a fortnight after my punishment began, little Tom brought me +word that two of my children, Jack and Lucy, were dead, and that Fanny +was not expected to live. When I heard this news I laughed a bitter +laugh, and said, 'Thank God, some good has been done. The squires won't +imprison them, anyway!' My boy looked terrified for a moment, and then +fell a-weeping bitterly. The sight of him crouching at my feet, and +quivering in passionate grief, brought me a bit to. A vision of my dear +little ones, of my dying wee Fan, swept over me; my heart yearned for +them, and I mingled my tears with my son's. I charged him to be kind to +mother, and tried to comfort him. Poor lad, poor lad! He is in Australia +now, and has a farm of his own. The sorrow of that time is past for him +long ago." + +Here my old friend paused, wiping the tears from his eyes furtively, and +sighing softly to himself. The dying glow of the sunset was now on his +face, gleaming in his silvery hair, and making his sad but animated +features shine with a soft glory. I sat still and gazed at him with +feelings too strong for speech. After a little he turned to me with a +smile, and said:-- + +"Yes, my friend, that's all passed, and many sorrows beside, nor do I +now curse God as I look back upon them. But I cannot tell you more +to-night. I didn't think that I should have been moved so much by +recalling that old story. Let us go indoors, the night is growing +chilly." + +Future conversations gave me most of the particulars of that time, but I +cannot harrow the reader's feelings with a full recital of all that +Thomas Wanless felt and suffered in these six months of misery. Three of +his children died while he chafed and toiled in Warwick Jail. The +heart-stricken mother alone received their dying words, heard their last +farewell. Kind neighbours tried to comfort her. The parson's wife even +called, and said, "Poor woman, I'm afraid you've had too many children +to bring up. I'll see if the vicar can spare you a few shillings from +the poor box;" but the shillings never came, much to Thomas's +satisfaction in after days. Perhaps Codling thought the family +altogether too reprobate for his charity. + +It would have gone hard indeed with Mrs. Wanless and the little ones +spared to her but for old Captain Hawthorn. Though verging on seventy, +and by no means strong, no single week elapsed all that winter when his +cheery voice was not heard in the cottage. Often he came twice a week, +but never with any ostentation of charity. On the contrary, he went so +far the other way as to pretend to take a bond over the cottage for +money, professedly lent to the family, and without which they must have +gone into the workhouse. He never, perhaps, felt so like a hypocrite in +his life as he did when he took this bond to the jail for Thomas to +sign. Young Tom was put back to his work on the home farm, and his wages +raised on some pretence or other to six shillings a week. The dry, old +man, so hard and repellant, had, after all, a human heart in him that my +Lord Bishop of Worcester might have envied had he ever experienced any +desire for such an organ. More true sympathy with distress was shown by +this hardened old Voltarian since this family had attracted his notice +than by all the squires of the district and the parsons to boot. It had +not yet become fashionable for the latter to rehearse deeds of +philanthropy in pedantic garments. Hawthorn's fault was not want of +heart or of sympathy, but a self-centredness which prevented him from +seeing his duty, except when, as in this instance, it was forced upon +him. Yet, after all, what could he have done to help the poor around him +that would not in some way have redounded to their hurt? Charity doles +would have demoralised them more than their hard lot did; and any +opening of the door for them to help themselves would have brought +hatred, contumely, and perhaps real injury to them and him. He could not +raise wages by his fiat, nor could he break up his land and distribute +it to the people. All the laws of the country, as well as the prejudices +of "society," were against him, if he had ever thought of so wild a +project; which I do not suppose he ever did. He sat apart and mocked at +a world with which he had no sympathy; whose hollowness, self-seeking, +and cruelty, hid beneath infinite hypocrisies, he thoroughly +understood. + +And this good, at least, has to be recorded of him, that he saved the +family of Thomas Wanless from want, by consequence, also, in all +probability, saving Thomas himself from becoming an abandoned +Ishmaelite. The sight of his family beggared, homeless, and in the +workhouse, either would have driven him reckless or broken his heart. +From that sight, at least, he was saved; and Thomas has often told me +that the conduct of the old squire during these six months did more to +revive hope in his heart and keep him from losing all faith in God or +man, than any other single event of his life. Yet had his heart +bitterness enough. + +"I remember," he said, one night as we conversed together; "I remember +the morning I left jail. It was a warm, May morning, and the air was so +fresh and sweet that the first breath of it made me feel quite giddy +with joy. 'Free! free! I am free!' I whispered softly to myself, and +with difficulty refrained from capering about the road like a madman, as +the joyous thought surged through my heart. It lasted only for a few +moments. Pain took hold of the heels of my joy as usual. I was a man +disgraced. Why should I be glad to get out of jail? Were not its +forbidding, gloomy walls the best shelter left for one like me? Why +should I be glad? The law of the land had branded me a criminal; let the +law makers enjoy paying for their work. + +"Ah, no; disgraced as I was, filled with bitter passionate hate of those +above me as my heart might be, I was not yet ready to stoop to +deliberate crime as a mode of revenge. The memory of my lost children +and my lonely, heart-broken wife stole into my heart and brought the +tears to my eyes. The four that were left to me would be waiting on this +May morning for my home coming. I would go home. + +"So I started; but when I reached the castle bridge my heart again +failed me. I was weak through long confinement, ill-usage, and want of +food, for the messes served to us in that jail were often worse than I +would have given to my pig. The very thought of meeting a village +neighbour terrified me. My limbs shook, and I crept through a gap in the +fence, resolved to hide till night and steal home in the darkness. For a +little while I sat behind a bush at the water's edge, feeling a coward, +but wholly unable to scold myself for it. Then I crept along the bank of +the Avon towards Grimscote, till I reached a clump of osiers, into which +I plunged. The ground was very damp, and here and there almost swampy; +but presently I found a dry mound, and there I lay down, buried from all +eyes. How long I lay I cannot tell, for I paid no heed to time, though I +gradually became calmer. Once again I was in contact with nature. The +air was full of the music of birds, and the chirp of insects among the +grass sounded almost like the movement of life in the very ground +itself. A sweet smell of hawthorn blossom came to me from some old trees +close by, and now and then I heard the plash of oars on the river, and +voices came to me sweet and clear off the water. Gradually I became more +hopeful. Life was all around me; the bushes themselves seemed moved by +it as I lay beneath their shade. Behind me the traffic of the high road +made a constant rattle, and beyond the river I heard the bleating of +lambs. And life somehow came back to me also. I arose with new hopes in +my breast. All could not yet be lost to me, I somehow felt; and, at any +rate, I would go home, for I began to be very hungry. + +"I often stopped on the way with weariness and faint-heartedness, but +did not again turn back, and by two o'clock in the afternoon I reached +my own cottage. My wife welcomed me with a burst of crying. I learnt +from her that she had begun to dread that I had done something rash. She +and the little ones had gone to meet me in the morning as far as the +castle bridge, which they must have reached soon after I lay down among +the willows. There they sat for a while hoping that I would come, but +seeing nothing of me they crept back again with hearts sad enough, you +may be sure. I was not long behind them, and my wife soon brightened +enough to be able to eat some dinner with me; but my heart smote me for +being so selfish and unkind as to go and hide as if no one had to be +considered but myself." + +Such in faint outline was Thomas's account of his release from prison. +His meeting with his family was sad beyond description. In the short six +months of his absence three of his little ones had been put under the +sod. Out of a family of eight in all he had now but four left. A great +mercy that it was so, some will say; and possibly they may be right. The +world's goods are so ill distributed that death is for many the only +blessing left. Nevertheless, I question if the sorrow of the labourer +at the loss of his children was not keener than that of many who need +not fear a want of bread for their offspring. He had toiled and suffered +for all the eight, and the love that grows up in the heart through such +discipline as his is akin to the deepest and holiest passion known to +man. Thomas and his wife mourned for their dead to their own life's end, +because the little ones had been part of their life. Is it so with you, +pert censor of the miserable poor? + +Though sorrowing, Thomas had yet no time to nurse his sorrow. The world +had to be faced again, and work to be found. For sentimental griefs and +morbid wailings in the world's ear the Wanlesses had no time. At first +Thomas got some jobs from Mr. Hawthorn, but he soon saw that they were +jobs mostly created on purpose for him, and he could not bear the +thought of living on charity, no matter how disguised. Therefore, he +began to hunt about for odd work in the neighbourhood, and found much +difficulty in getting it. His recent imprisonment told against him +everywhere, if not in keeping work from his hands, at all events in low +pay for the work. The farmers had now got their feet on his neck, and +took it out of him, as they alone knew how; for the brutalised slave is +always the cruellest of slave-drivers. But Thomas fought on, and for the +best part of a year contrived to exist with the help that young Tom's +wages gave. He did no more; nay, not always so much; for he and his wife +sometimes wanted their own dinners that their children might have +enough. Still he existed; lived through the year somehow and was +thankful, notwithstanding the fact that he had made no progress in +paying off his debt to the old Captain. "He can take the cottage, +Thomas," said his wife. "Someone will pay him rent enough for it, though +we can't; but we can get a hovel somewhere." + +He was spared this last sacrifice, for about this time old Hawthorn +died, and a sealed packet addressed to Thomas Wanless was found among +his papers. When the labourer came to open this, he found that it +contained his bond with the signature torn off, a receipt in full for +the money advanced, and a £20 note. On a slip of paper was written in +the Captain's scraggy, trembling hand, "Don't mention this to a living +soul, Tom Wanless, or by God I'll haunt you.--E.H." Thus the scorned +infidel was soft-hearted and characteristic to the last. His estate +passed to a cousin, who soon gave the tenants cause to remember how good +the old Captain had been. And once more he had kept the labourer's heart +from breaking. The deliverance from debt which this packet brought, and +the prodigious wealth a £20 note appeared to be to Thomas, renewed his +courage and made him resolve to strike further afield in search of +better paid labour. Railway making was at its height all over the +country, and he had often thought of becoming a navvy. Now he decided to +be one if he could get work on the line down Worcester way. A bit of +that line came within fifteen miles of Ashbrook, and he might therefore +see his family now and then at least Young Tom was to stay at home, and +the 5s. a-week, to which his wages was reduced after old Hawthorn's +death, would help to keep house till work was found by his father. The +£20 was not to be touched till the very last extremity, and in the +meantime Thomas put it in as a deposit in a savings bank at +Stratford-on-Avon. He would not deposit it in Warwick lest questions +might be asked, and the Captain's dying command be in consequence +disobeyed. + +The new plans succeeded better almost than Thomas had hoped. He got work +on the railway; it was very hard work, but the wages were good; at first +he only got 18s. per week, and he began by stinting himself in order to +send 10s. of this home; but he soon found that to be a mistake. His work +demanded full vigour of body, and to be in full vigour he must be well +fed. The other men had meat of some kind three times a day, and Thomas +followed their example, with the best results. Not only did he stand by +his work with the rest, but he displayed such energy and intelligence +that within a few weeks he obtained charge of the work in a deep cutting +at 28s. per week. Of this he saved from 12s. to 14s. a-week, after +paying for clothes, lodgings, and food. It seemed very little, and he +grudged much the cost of his own living; but there was no help for it. +Besides, what he saved now was more than all he earned in Ashbrook, +except for a few weeks during harvest. Much reason had he to thank the +dairyman's wife for feeding him in his youth so as to fit him now for a +navvy's toil. + +Truly the life was rough, and little to Wanless' liking, yet he worked +with a heart and hope rarely his before. Altogether this job lasted for +two years, and regularly all that time Thomas went home once a month +with his savings. Sometimes he had more than 20 miles to walk each way, +but he had health, and never failed. Starting on Saturday evenings, in +wet weather and dry, summer and winter, he would reach home early on +Sunday morning, when after a good sleep, he passed a few happy hours, +and then started on the Sunday afternoon for his work again. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +IS OF THE NATURE OF A SERMON. + + +During these two years the attitude of Thomas's mind changed much +towards society and its institutions. He may be said for the first time +to have become a religious man, and his religion was of the simpler and +more unsophisticated type which comes to a man who knows little of +dogma, but much of the contents of the Bible. That book was studied by +him as something fresh and altogether new on the lonely Sundays he +passed amongst the navvies. He took to it at first more because he had +no other book to read, but it laid hold of his imagination after a time, +and he began to test the world around him by the lofty morality of the +New Testament. In due course the thoughts that burned within him found +utterance and infected some of his fellow workmen. Almost before he was +aware a certain following gathered round him. They drew together in the +parlour of the inn, which most of the navvies frequented, and discussed +things political and religious on the Saturday and Sunday nights. + +The wilder spirits soon nicknamed Thomas and his friends the Saints, and +he himself went by the sobriquet of Methody Tom; but, though jeered at +and sometimes cursed by the wilder sort, their influence spread, and +radical views of society were canvassed among these navvies with a +freedom that would have made parson and squire alike shiver with horror +had they known. But they did not know. How could they? Such creatures as +navvies were not, strictly speaking, human at all. They lived beyond the +pale, like the Irish ancestors of many among them, and were essentially +of the nature of wild beasts, for whom the policeman's baton or the +soldier's musket was the only available moral force. + +No parson ever looked near that community of busy workers, whose strong +backed labour was swiftly altering the physical conditions of modern +civilisation, and calling a new world into being for squire and trader +alike. Nay, I am wrong. Thomas informed me that a parson did go astray +among the workmen in the cutting of which he had charge. A poor, deluded +young curate came round once distributing tracts. The fervour of a +yesterday's ordination was upon him, and shone in the rigorous cut of +his garments. He thought he might do the navvies good by the sight of +him, and bless them with his tracts. But his visit was a failure, and +his reception rough. Thomas declared that he felt sorry for the poor +fellow, and yet could not refrain from joining in the laugh at his +expense. One sturdy northerner, to whom he handed a tract, protested +loudly that he "hadn't done nothing to be summonsed for," and when the +curate blandly explained that it was a tract, he blessed his stars, and +swore that he "took the chap for one of the new peelers." Another was of +an opinion that "the parson had a mighty easy job of it," and suggested +his taking a turn at the pick; while one more blasphemous than the +rest, declared that he didn't know who the Lord Jesus might be, and +didn't care; but, in his opinion, it was d----d impudent of him to send +any of his flunkeys down their way "a spyin' and a pryin'." They chaffed +the poor man about his clothes; begged a yard or two of the tail of his +coat to mend their Sunday breeches with; explained how much better he +could walk in a short jacket; wanted to know why he wore a white +choker--and altogether made such a fool of the poor wretch that he soon +turned and fled, amid their jeers and laughter. + +That was the only time they ever saw a parson of the Church during these +two years; and no doubt this poor curate felt that they were a reprobate +crew whom the Church did quite right to abandon to their fate. It is so +much pleasanter and easier to play at pietism amongst well-bred, +comfortable people "of good society" than to save souls. The sweet order +of a gorgeous ritual, the vanities of richly-embroidered garments, +squabbles about archaic rites as worthless as an Egyptian mummy--these +things are more valuable to the modern parson, and more pleasing in the +sight of his God, than the lives of such men as Wanless and his +fellow-labourers. For the parson's God is the God of the rich, to whom +gorgeous ritual and sensuous music are necessary as foretastes of the +blessedness of an æsthetic paradise. + +So be it: far be it from me to question the taste of parson or parson's +following. They can go their own way, only it may be permitted to one to +point out that outside their charmed circle there are forces at work, +before the power of which their fair fabric may yet crumble and +disappear like sand heaps before the rushing tide. Thomas Wanless and +his friends were rude and unlettered, but they had definite ideas +enough, and a wild sense of justice. In their dim way they tried to fit +together the various parts of the human life that lay around them, and +failing to do so, as better than they have failed, they came to the +conclusion that they and their class were cheated by the rest. +Democracy, communism, subversive ideas of all kinds, therefore, found +currency among them, as in ever-growing volume they find currency now. +Imagine if you can these men trying to evolve the prototype of a modern +Lord Bishop, in lawn sleeves and pompous state, from the simple records +of the New Testament. Can you wonder at their failure in that instance, +or in many such like? Where could they find church or chapel that was no +respecter of persons? in which the possession of money and power was not +the ultimate test of true godliness? Is it astonishing that in placing +the ideal and actual side by side, these men should have come to the +conclusion that the actual was a fraud: that the whole basis of modern +society was corrupt? + +Do not, I beseech you, pass lightly by the doings of these men, most +sublime Lord Bishops, most serene peers of the realm, smug buyers of +county votes. These ideas are spreading all around you. Few possessed +them fifty years ago among the agricultural poor; but there, as +elsewhere, democracy is getting educated, is awaking to the reality of +things, and will make its feelings known to you in a manner you little +dream of one of these days. Your Olympus will prove but a molehill when +the earth shakes with the onset of the millions on whose necks you have +sat all these ages. Titles are a mockery, hereditary dignities a +contempt, in the eyes of men who live face to face with the hard +realities of existence. A new life is abroad in the world. The +image-breaker is exalted above my Lord Bishop in all his glory of lawn +sleeves and piety in uniform by men like Wanless and his friends. They +want to know, not what part "my lord" professes to act, what creed this +or that snug Church dignitary chants or drones; but what his life is +worth? What are you? in short, is the question, not what you give +yourself out to be; and, depend upon it, if the answer is +unsatisfactory, you and your hypocrisies will disappear together. + +Nothing struck me so forcibly in my intercourse with Wanless as the +extraordinary bitterness with which he spoke of the English Church. To +it he seemed in his later life to have transferred the greater part of +his hatred of the landed gentry. He viewed it as an organised blasphemy, +and worse than that, as the jailor, so to say, by whom the chains of a +miserable captivity had been rivetted for ages on the limbs of the +toiling poor. The ground for this attitude of mind on the part of the +labourer was easily discovered. He read his Bible much, and endeavoured +to fit its precepts and the example of its greatest characters to the +life around him, and of course he failed. The more he tried to bring +together the presentment of Christianity afforded by the modern Church +and teaching of the New Testament, the more he saw their divergencies. +This set him pondering, and he soon came to the conclusion that this +modern institution was not Christian at all, but Pagan. It was a +department of State, paid by the State, and employed by it for the +purpose of deluding the people into the belief that the existing order +of life was divinely appointed. How effectively it had done this work, +he said, let history show. The clergy had aided and abetted the gentry +in all their robberies of the people; it had been the instrument of many +flagrant thefts of endowments left for the education of the poor; there +never had been a reform proposed calculated to benefit the people that +had not been ardently opposed by this organised band of hypocrites, and +no class of the community was so habitually, so flagrantly selfish as +preachers. Take them all in all, Thomas Wanless declared, the people who +preached for a trade, be they dissenters or Anglican, gave him a lower +idea of human nature than any navvy he ever met. "Their trade makes them +bad," he often declared; "and I suppose I ought to pity the miserable +wretches, but they do so much mischief that I really cannot." + +Once I recollect urging the commonplace argument that there were many +good men among them, but he caught me up short with-- + +"Yes, yes, I admit all that; but that proves nothing in favour of either +the Church or the parson's trade. These men would have been good +anywhere, as Papists, Mohamedans, or Hindus, just as certainly as in +church or chapel. It is their nature to, and they cannot help it. But +their very goodness is a curse to people, sir--yes, a curse, for they +prop up fabrics and institutions that but for them would long ago have +been too rotten to stand." + +Thus it will be seen that Wanless, though in his way a profoundly +religious man, was in no sense a sectary. He was in fact ranged among +the iconoclasts. He sighed for a living faith, not a dead creed; and +were he living to-day he would certainly give his hearty support to that +band of men who wage war on the shams of modern creeds, who mock +unceasingly at the disgusting spectacle of men who call themselves +disciples of Christ wrangling over the cut and embroidery of garments, +and trying to make themselves martyrs for the sake of a candle or two. +The tractarian movement attracted Thomas's attention in a dim way, and +he was amused at the frightful din made by the conversions to Romanism +which accompanied that curious upheaval of mediævalism. Not that he +understood much of the meaning of what was going on. It was not worth +discovering, he said; but he was amused over it, and roundly declared +that for this and all other ills of the Church there was but one +cure--to take away its money. "Let these parsons try living by faith," +he would often exclaim. "If they believe in God as they say, why do they +not trust him for a living? Their proud stomachs would come down a bit +if they are just turned adrift in a body and let shift for themselves. +But Lord, what a howl they'll make if the people get up and say we'll +have no more of your mummeries, we want our money for a better purpose. +They won't think much about God then, I can tell you. It will be every +man for himself, and who can grab the most. I never have any patience +with parsons, never. They are bad from the beginning, bad all through, +self-deluders and misleaders of others at the best, and at the +worst--well, not much more except in degree." + +"These are the mere ravings of an ignorant peasant," most readers will +exclaim. I do not deny that in a certain sense they may seem only that. +Yet look around and consider the signs of the times before you dismiss +these things as of no significance. What means the spread of secularism +amongst the working classes of the present day, the contempt for +religion and parsons which most of them display? Is it not a most +ominous indication of future trouble for serene lord bishops and their +brood when events bring them face to face with the people? I do not +admire Charles Bradlaugh's teaching on many points; but I cannot deny +the power that he and such as he wield on the common people. It is a +power that increases with the spread of education; and what does it +betoken? Only this; that in time, for one man among the peasantry who +now thinks like Thomas Wanless there will be tens of thousands. The +churches and chapels themselves, with their exceedingly worldly +respectability, produce these men more certainly than all the teachings +of the Bradlaughs; nay, Bradlaugh himself is directly the product of a +corrupt, time-serving and utterly blasphemous church organisation. +Therefore be not too contemptuous of sentiments like those of this +peasant. They are significant of many things--of a coming democracy that +will at least try to burn up the rottenness of our modern ultra +Pagan-civilization. + +On other questions than those of Church and State the opinions of +Thomas Wanless were equally uncompromising, and, perhaps, equally +impracticable. His intelligence was far deeper than his reading, and +much of his political economy, as well as of his code of social morals, +was taken from the Bible. To my thinking he could have gone to no better +book, but I am also free to admit that his too exclusive study of it +gave a quaint and sometimes impracticable turn to his conceptions that +may lead many to have a poor opinion of his wisdom. + +On the land question, for example, he grew to be a kind of disciple of +Moses. He would have had the whole country parcelled out amongst the +people--each family enjoying the inalienable right to a certain bit of +the soil. The year of jubilee was also, in his eyes, a most merciful and +just provision for freeing the unfortunate, or the children of the +spendthrift, from the grasp of the usurer--always the most relentless of +men--and he often exclaimed--"How much better my lot would have been +to-day had a jubilee year brought back to me and mine the land my +grandfathers sacrificed in the stress of hard times." And not to land +only would he have applied this principle, but to all kinds of +indebtedness. "A limit of time should be fixed," he said, "beyond which +the debtor should be free from his debt, unless he had committed a +crime." The national debt itself he would have treated on this +principle; and few things excited his wrath more quickly than any +mention of the heavy burden which the consolidated debt continued to be +to the English people. In national matters he would have had no debt +remaining beyond 30 years, on the principle that it was a crime to cast +the burdens of the present on posterity. Freedom to borrow indefinitely +was in his eyes, moreover, the cause of much abominable robbery and +crime. Next to the Church, however, the object of his deepest hatred and +strongest contempt was modern kingship; and here again his inspiration +was drawn from the Bible. He told me that he often read Samuel's +description of the curse of kingship to his children on Sunday evenings, +with a view to make them proper Republicans; and his greatest interest +in modern history consisted in tracing the working of this curse in +England for the last 200 years. To this evil principle he declared that +we owed most of our social miseries, all our wars of aggression, our +national debt, our social corruptions, our bad land laws, our standing +army, and perhaps even our Established Church, with all its crop of +spiritual, moral, and social perversions. + +It is easy to understand how a man holding opinions like these should +exercise a tremendous influence on the better class of his +fellow-workmen. To those who gathered about him in the evenings he was +never weary of enlarging on topics like these; and had the nature of the +work in hand kept the men permanently together, Thomas must in time have +appeared as the leader of a formidable school of democrats. But the +navvy is here to-day and gone to-morrow, and the seed which Thomas sowed +was scattered far and wide ere two years were over. The good he did is +therefore untraceable, yet doubtless his work bore fruit in ways and +places unseen, and in after days may have increased the receptivity of +the labouring poor after a fashion that the modern agitator thought due +wholly to his own exertions. + +Over the wild Irishmen who formed the majority of the gangs on the line +Thomas never obtained any influence; and, in his opinion, they were +either a race of men bad from its very beginning, or whose nature had +been warped and debased by a long course of shameful tyranny and +deep-rooted habits of submission to degrading superstitions. However +produced, the Irish, in his esteem, were wretched creatures. They lacked +honesty and independence, and would beg like pariahs one hour from a man +whom they would treacherously murder the next in their drunken furies. +More than once he had the greatest difficulty in keeping clear of the +devastating fights with which these wild men of the west were in the +habit of finishing up their drunken revels, and once he, and the more +respectable men who followed him, had to arm themselves and help to +protect some villages in the neighbourhood of the line from being +stormed and sacked by a squad of Irishmen out for a spree. Life +surrounded by such elements was dreary at the best, and, good though the +wages might be, Thomas was not sorry when the job was finished, and the +way open for him to return once more to his own little cottage in +Ashbrook. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MAY INDICATE TO THE READER, AMONGST OTHER THINGS, SOME OF THE ADMIRABLE +ARRANGEMENTS WHEREBY ENGLAND OBTAINS MEN FOR A STANDING ARMY. + + +Had Thomas Wanless known what was in store for him in the future he +might have elected to leave Ashbrook for ever, and continue the life of +a railway navvy. As such his pay was good, and by thrift he might save +enough money either to venture on small contracts for himself, or start +some kind of business in one of the growing midland towns. But Thomas +did not consider these possibilities. The life he led grew more and more +repulsive to him as time went on; and he yearned unceasingly for the +quietude of his native village, and for his own fireside peace. Besides, +he hungered to get back to work on the land. If he could not get fields +of his own to till, at least he might hope to again help to till the +fields of others, and to watch the corn bloom and ripen as of yore. + +So when the local bit of railway was made, Thomas came home to Ashbrook, +and once more went abroad among his neighbours; once more he accepted +the labourer's lot, with its hard fare and starvation pay. He returned +late in autumn when work was scarce; but his wife and he had saved money +in the past two years, and he managed to live with the help of what odd +jobs he could get, and without much trenching on his store till spring +came round. Fortunately his son Thomas had been able to cultivate the +allotment patch in his father's absence, and in spite of the fact that +the new owner of the soil had doubled their rent, it had paid for its +cultivation very well. The growing importance of Leamington provided all +surrounding villages with an improving vegetable and fruit market, of +which Thomas's wife and family had taken full advantage in his absence. +So well indeed had they done, that he himself indulged for a short time +in dreams of becoming a market gardener; but he soon found that there +was no chance for him in that direction. He might get work from the +farmers around, but no landlord would rent him the few necessary acres. +A broken man when he left Ashbrook to become a navvy; his absence had +not improved his position. On the contrary, the parish magnates rather +looked upon him as a greater black sheep than ever. The old ideas about +the rights of landowners to the labour of the hind, as well as to the +lion's share of the products of that labour, had by no means died out, +and it was still a moral crime in the eyes of the landlord for a +labourer to have enough daring and independence of spirit, to enable him +to seek work in another part of the country. In some respects Wanless +was therefore a greater pariah when he came home than when he went away, +and the summit of offence was reached when the report got abroad that +he had actually made some money, and wanted to rent a little farm. +Squire Wiseman had condescended to mention this report to Parson +Codling, and they both agreed that this kind of thing must be +discountenanced, else the country would not be fit for respectable +persons to live in. "The idea," Wiseman had exclaimed, "of this d----d +poacher-thief wanting to become a farmer! why bless my life, we shall +have our butlers wanting to be members of parliament next." And this +seemed to be the general opinion, so that the only practical outcome of +Thomas's ambition was a greater difficulty in procuring work, and a +further advance in the rent of his allotment. The successor of old +Captain Hawthorn took this mode of expressing his concurrence in the +general opinion, rather than that of a summary ejectment, he being a +practical man, and wise in his generation. It was better policy to take +the profits of Thomas's labours than to turn him adrift, and have to pay +rates for the maintenance of him and his family. + +Against the odds and prejudices thus at work, Wanless fought manfully +for more than two years. When he could get work he laboured at it early +and late, and when, as often happened, work was denied him, he tended +his little garden and his allotment patch with the closeness of a +Chinese farmer. His flowers were the pride of the village, and his care +coaxed the old trees in his garden into a degree of fruit-bearing that +almost put to shame the vigour of their youth. Yet he could not always +make ends meet; and when he began to see his little hoard melting away, +his heart once more failed him. If the farmers would not have him he +must once more try elsewhere, and again a local railway afforded him a +refuge. He became a "ganger" on the Stratford line at 14s. a-week, and +for more than four years made his daily journey backwards and forwards +on his "beat," winter and summer, in cold and heat, well or ill. In one +sense, this work was not so hard as a farm labourer's or a navvy's is, +but it told on the health as much. Exposure, thin clothing, and poor +food did their work rapidly enough, and Thomas's limbs began to stiffen, +and his back to grow bent before his time. Like his fellows, he promised +to become an old man at 50, but he would have stuck to his work had not +a sharp attack of pleurisy laid him up in the winter of 1855, and once +more compelled him to seek to live by farm labour. He could not face the +bleak unsheltered railway track again, and even if he could, there was +no room for him. His place had been filled up. With a weary heart and a +spirit well-nigh crushed, Thomas once more looked for work on the farms +around Ashbrook. "Is there no hope for us, Sally, lass?" he would often +cry. "Must we go to the workhouse at last?" "Ay, the workhouse, the +workhouse!" he would exclaim. "The parsons promise us a deal in the +other world, but that's the best they think we deserve here. Well, +perhaps they mean to give us a better relish for the other world when it +comes." + +Thomas had one thing to cheer him, though, and no doubt that gave him +more courage to face the world again than he otherwise would have had. +His precious son, young Tom, had emigrated to Australia about a year +before this terrible illness had enfeebled his father. He had gone as an +assisted emigrant, but the old man had given him £10 of old Hawthorn's +£20 to begin the New World upon. The parting had cost the family much, +and the father most of all; but they felt it to be for the best. There +was no room to grow in the old land; in the new there was a great +freedom. The lad dreamt of gold nuggets; but the wiser father bade him +stick to the land as soon as he could get a bit to stick to. + +This departure was a loss to the family purse, for the youth had +obtained pretty steady work, and generously gave all into the keeping of +his mother. But Jane and Jacob were now also out into the world, winning +such bread as they could get, and the family burden was therefore +lighter. Jane was general servant to a dissenting draper in Leamington, +and Jacob enjoyed the proud distinction of being waggoner's boy at +Whitbury farm, now tenanted by a go-ahead Scotch ex-bailiff, who had +succeeded the Pembertons when they went to the dogs with drink and +horse-dealing. This hard-fisted, ferret-eyed agriculturist worked his +men and boys as they had never been worked before, but he did not make +the hours of labour so long, and he paid them a trifle better than his +neighbours, whose jealousy and dislike he thereby increased. Probably he +rather liked to be contemned by his fellows. It increased the +self-sufficiency of his righteousness, and made him the more proud of +being a strict Calvinistic Presbyterian, endowed with a conscience as +inelastic as his creed. Be that as it may, this man gave Jacob Wanless +10s. a week and made the lad work for it. Jacob was not then 17, and at +his previous place had only obtained half that sum with a grudge. But +then his work had been a long day's drawl too often, while now his duty +as under waggoner was practically a good 10 to 12 hours' toil as stable +assistant, feeder of stalled cattle, and general labourer about the +farm. + +From these causes Wanless had some ground for hope, although work was +difficult for him to get, and his power to do it when got less than it +had been. And when he looked round him his causes for thankfulness +multiplied. Was not his neighbour Hewens, the under gardener at the +Grange, worse off than he, with a younger family of seven, one of whom +was an object, and a weekly income averaging about 9s. a week all the +year round. Thomas's old and tried friend Satchwell, the blacksmith, +too, with his three children living and a wife dying in decline, had +surely a harder lot than he, for all the coldness of farmers and +contumely of parish deities. + +As spring warmed into summer, indeed, Wanless's strength and heart came +back to him in a measure. His hopes were chastened, but they were there +still, and asserted their life. Good news came from his far-away son, +too. Young Tom had taken his father's advice, and, avoiding the charms +of gold digging, had gone to work at high pay on a sheep run. Already he +spoke of buying a farm of his own, and getting father and mother and all +the rest to join him in the colony. Surely any man's heart would warm at +prospects like these, and Thomas so far entertained the project as to +talk it over with his friends, Brown, Satchwell, and Robins, who agreed +in thinking it "mighty fine," and in wishing that they could mount and +go along. "A vain wish, friends," Brown would say, "vain so far as I am +concerned, for I cannot herd sheep or hold a plough, and they want +neither parish clerks nor schoolmasters in the bush." Robins felt that +he was too old and too poor to think of the change, and Satchwell sighed +often as he thought on what a sea voyage might yet do for his wife. But +as for Thomas, of course he could go when his son sent him the money, +they said; and he, remembering that he had still a few pounds of his +hoard unspent, almost thought that he could. His family should have the +first chance, though. Jane and Jacob might both be able in another year +to get away to the new country so full of hope; and it was best that the +old hulk should stay at home, perhaps. So ran his thoughts for these +two, but he always stopped when he reached Sally, his youngest living +child, and precious to him as the apple of his eye. She was the fairest +of the family, and her father's darling above all the others. Her, at +all events, he felt he could not part with. If she went away at all her +mother and he must go too. + +As yet "wee Sal," as she was called, though by this time nigh fourteen +years old, had not been suffered to go out to service. She had got more +schooling than the others, thanks to the better means that her father +had during part of her childish years; thanks likewise to his partiality +for her. In this you will say he was weak; but let him who is strong on +such a point fling stones. I cannot blame Thomas much for committing so +common a sin as to love most yearningly his youngest child; but I admit +that his fondness was perhaps to her hurt. Not that she was taught to +love idleness or things above her station. Far from that. Kept at home +though she was, she had to work. In the summer season she helped her +mother to tend the garden, and to carry flowers, vegetables, and fruit +to Leamington for sale. Under her mother's eye she at other times +learned something of laundry work. But her schooling; what could she do +with that? Did it not tend to give her vain thoughts above her lot; for +her lot was fixed more even than that of her brothers. The peasant maid +could never hope to advance to aught beyond some kind of upper service +in a rich man's family; a service often increasingly degrading in +proportion as it is nominally high. She might become a ladies' maid, +perhaps, and marry a butler in time, or she might fill her head with +vanities, and in apeing those above her sink to the gutter. The love of +Thomas for his child exposed her to many risks, when it took the form of +getting old Brown to teach her all he knew. If she could only get to the +new country at the other end of the world all that might be changed. She +might be happy and prosperous as an Australian farmer's wife. Yes, that +would be best; but they must all go. Neither Thomas nor his wife, who +shared his partiality, could think of parting with Sally. Jacob might go +first to help Tom to gather means to take out the rest; and Jane might +even go with him could a way be found; but not Sally: that sacrifice +would be too much. + +In all probability the emigration plan might have been carried out in +this sense that very winter, if an emigration agent could have been got +to take Jacob and Jane, had not misfortune once more found the labourer +and smitten his hopes. Jacob enlisted. He was by no means a bad boy, but +like all youths, enjoyed what is called a bit of fun; and, in fun, he +had betaken himself to a kind of hiring fair held in Warwick, in +November, and called the "Mop." There was no need for him to go, as he +was not out of work, but the day was a kind of prescriptive holiday, and +others were going, so why not Jacob? Idle, careless, and brisk as a +lark, the lad followed where others led; drank for the sake of good +companionship more than his unaccustomed head could carry; and when in a +wild, devil-may-care mood was picked up by a recruiting sergeant, who +soon joked and argued him into taking the shilling. A neighbour saw the +boy, half-tipsy, following the sergeant and his party through the fair +with recruit's ribbons fluttering round his head, and rushed home to +tell Thomas as fast as his legs could carry him. The old man was +horror-struck; and the boy's mother broke into bitter wailing. Thomas, +however, wasted no time in useless grief, but took the road for Warwick, +within three minutes of hearing the news, in the hope of being in time +to buy his boy off. He had an idea that if he managed to pay the +smart-money before Jacob was sworn in, the lad might escape with little +difficulty. But he was too late. The sergeant was too well up to his +work to wait in Warwick all night, in order that parents might come in +the morning and beleaguer him for their betrayed children. Long before +Thomas reached the town and began his search for his son the sergeant +had gone off with his entire netful to Birmingham. + +As soon as Thomas found this to be the case he made for the railway +station, intending to follow his boy without asking himself whether it +would do any good. But there again he was baulked. The cheap train to +Birmingham had passed long before, a porter told him, and there was +nothing that night but the late and dear express. For this Thomas had +not enough money in addition to what would be required to buy off Jacob, +so he had no help for it but to go home. This he did with a heart heavy +enough. Well did he know that ere he could reach Birmingham to-morrow he +would be too late. Recruiting sergeants do not linger at their work, +especially after the army had been reduced by war and disease as it then +had been in the Crimea. Before ten o'clock next morning Jacob, still +dazed with yesterday's unwonted debauch, was sworn in before a +Birmingham J.P., and not all the money his father possessed could then +release him. Henceforth, till his years of service were out, he must go +and kill or be killed at the bidding of these "sovereigns and +statesmen," whose business it still, alas, is to make strife in the +world. + +This untoward event was in many ways a knock-down blow to the old +labourer and his wife. She, however, sorrowed mostly on personal +grounds, and dwelt on gloomy prospects of wounds and violent deaths as +the only lot now open for her son--bone of her bone, and flesh of her +flesh--whom she had nursed and tended from the womb only for this. Like +a good housewife, she mourned also the loss of Jacob's wages, which not +only helped to keep the wolf from the door, but also served to nourish +the hope that one day all might yet see the new land of promise. If any +savings could be pointed to they were always in the mother's eyes due to +those wonderful earnings of her boy's. + +Thomas shared these feelings with his wife, but he had others into which +she did not enter. The emigration scheme had, perforce, to be given up, +and that was to him a far more bitter thought than to his wife, who +declared that she did not mind if they all went, but hung back at the +thought of "putting one after another of her children into a living +tomb," as she phrased it. But the deepest pain of all to Thomas probably +lay in the humiliation he felt in having a son a soldier. The trade of +murder, as he called it, was to his mind the most degrading to which a +man's hands could be set. He firmly believed that standing armies were a +mockery of the Almighty, and that the nations which fostered them would +sooner or later sink to perdition beneath the blows of divine vengeance. +Armies led to wars, and wars were the curse of the world, he averred, +and when contradicted was ready to prove to his antagonist that all the +wars in which England had been engaged since the revolution of 1688, +were dictated by the worst passions of mankind. Either, he said, they +were undertaken to consolidate the power of a rapacious faction over the +lives, liberties, and means of the people at large, or they were +actuated by mere bestial greed, by inordinate vanity and love of power, +or by mulish obstinacy and hatred or fear of liberty, and it was +amazing to hear what arrays of facts he brought forth in support of his +thesis. As a general conclusion he, of course, urged that, but for kings +and priests, most of the wars of the modern world would never have come +about. He did not know which cause was most effective, but inclined to +think it was the priests. Certainly the sight of ministers of Christ +so-called, unctuously blessing red-handed and red-coated murderers by +wholesale, and training their children to go and do likewise, was in his +opinion one of the most revolting things under God's sky. + +You can, therefore, well understand with what bitterness of heart he +thought of the fate of his boy. He brooded over it; it became more +terrible in his sight than an actual crime. If Jacob had stolen and been +transported for breaking the law, Thomas could not have felt more shame +and humiliation than now haunted him. He almost cursed his son, and he +did unstintedly curse the system under which the lad had been caught up +by the agent of the State and spirited away from his labour. How it was +done he knew but too well; and when afterwards Jacob himself told the +story, it only confirmed what he had all along felt to be true. The boy +had never intended to enlist; but the drink, imprudently taken, had gone +to his head. The sergeant first cajoled him, and then, when he had taken +the fatal shilling, terrified him with threats of what would befall if +he broke faith with the Queen. So he took the oaths and went away to +practice the goose step, and moralise on the oddness of things in the +world. An officer, he now learnt, could sell out at a high price and +retire; but the common soldier belonged to the State, and had to be +bought back therefrom if he wished to be free. For Jacob there came no +such redress. + +Gloom settled on the heart of his father, and on the little home in +Ashbrook after this great blow, and, but for the spur of hard necessity, +Thomas thought he should have laid down his burden altogether. Happily, +duty called him to work for others, if not for himself; and work brought +its usual blessing--a healing of the wounds and a revival of life in the +heart. All was not yet lost, though the buffets of adversity were +frequent and sore. + +Indeed, in one sense Jacob's enlistment brought good to the family, for +it gave Thomas work at Whitbury Farm. Once more, after so many +vicissitudes, he came back to the old place. A changed place it proved +to be, but, on the whole, the change was for the better. The work was +hard, but the farmer was not brutal like the Pembertons, who had ruined +themselves by wild living, been sold up, and had disappeared none knew +whither. + +Jacob himself had plenty of time to rue his folly, and he did rue it +bitterly. At first in Chatham, and afterwards in various Irish barracks, +he spent seven dreary years, wishing many a time he were dead, and +regretting that his fate did not lead him to India, where a mutineer's +bullet might have ended his career. Possessing much of his father's +energy of nature and many of his father's habits of thought, the idle +and seemingly purposeless life of a barrack became at times almost more +than the young man could endure. Had he fallen into the loose ways of +many among his comrades, it is probable that he would have capped the +folly of enlisting by the military crime of desertion. Fortunately he +kept his soul clean, and managed to utilise some portion of his time in +improving his mind. The mental wants of the soldier were not cared for +in his time, as they have begun to be since; but there were a few books +available in most barracks, and in Ireland a kindly old adjutant, who +had himself risen from the ranks, discovered Jacob's thirst in time to +afford him some assistance. Save for "providences" like these, and for +the stout heart that grew within him as he developed into full manhood, +Jacob's life as a soldier would have represented only wasted years. + +Three more years in this way passed over Thomas Wanless and his +family--years marked by no incident of great importance. The dull +uniformity of their struggles with the ills of life has no dramatic +interest. Under it characters may be shaped and twisted like trees by +the east wind; but the graduations of change are mostly imperceptible to +those that endure the daily buffetings, and are beyond the scope of the +chronicler. Some day in the lapse of years, a man wakes up suddenly to +find himself changed, and looks back upon a former self with wonder and +astonishment, with thankfulness, it may be, for the drastic cleansing he +has endured, or with that flash of horror at the sudden vision of the +pit into which he has all the time been slowly sinking. In these years, +while a father labours for his children's bread, and thanks God that the +bread comes to him for his labour, his children grow up, develop +characters, assume attitudes in the world he never suspects, bringing +him joy or sorrow as the fruit is bitter or sweet. All is changing +ever; life moves onward, and the one generation perceives not the path +that the next shall follow. Ah! the mystery of life. What does it all +mean? The wrong triumphs often; the high hopes are dashed; weariness and +pain haunt us wherever we go; the fruit of the sweet blossom is ashes +and exceeding great bitterness; yet we hope on, plod on, battle till the +end comes--and the judgment: then perhaps we shall know. + +As yet, however, the unkindly blows of a hard fate had not broken Thomas +Wanless's spirit: far otherwise. His heart might fail him beneath the +greater of his misfortunes, but when the storm had overpassed, his head +rose again, his eye yet brightened, and the laughter of hope broke forth +once more: so was it now. Steady work soothed the pain of Jacob's +disgrace, and in time the boy's own cheerfulness and manifest +improvement made his father begin to think good might be brought forth +out of evil in this case also. His daughter Jane continued to do well, +and was looking towards promotion in her sphere--such promotion as +consists in being one among many fellows, instead of the solitary drudge +in the family of a small retail merchant. With the higher wages that +followed elevation, Jane hoped also to be able to help her parents more. +That was Jane's ambition, so far as confessed, and it did her credit. +There might be something behind that, which was her own; but for the +present her father and mother stood first. + +Then the news from Tom was ever good. He prospered with the colony of +Victoria, where he had settled, and might in time be a rich man, though +as yet his means were, for the most part, hid in the land he had bought. + +Life, therefore, was not at all dark in those years of quiet toil, +either for Thomas or his family; and yet a cloud was gathering on the +horizon; a little cloud that might grow till all the life became wrapped +in its darkness. + +The enlistment of Jacob had compelled Sally to go to service like her +sister. Thomas yielded to this necessity most reluctantly, and his +friends, even his wife, said he was foolishly fond of the girl. He would +not admit that it was over-fondness; it was solicitude, he said. An +undefined feeling of dread haunted him about the last and best loved +that was left. She was fairer than any girl of the village, and without +being exactly giddy, she was thoughtless and merry-hearted; too easily +led away; too guilelessly trustful of others. How could he let this +tender, unprotected maiden go out into the world, and fight her +life-battle alone among strangers? Many a prayer had he prayed in secret +that this sacrifice might be spared; but in this also the heavens were +as brass. The time had come when she must either go or starve, and with +a heavy heart he gave his consent. It was hardly given when his wife in +her turn woke up to the danger of the step. She then sought to bring +Thomas to revoke the decision, and try one more year; but it was too +late. Sally herself was now eager to go. Her pride was touched. She +would no longer be a burden to her parents, and must take a place like +her sister. + +"But in another year, Sally, we may all be able to go to Australia," the +mother pleaded. + +"Well, I can work for money to help us to go there," was the answer; and +the mother had to yield. + +Sally found a place as drudge to a newly-married couple in Warwick--a +young surgeon and his wife. They had imprudently married on his +"prospects," and had to use many shifts to hide their poverty, lest the +world, which can only measure men's worth by the length of their purses, +should pass him by. It was thus a poor place, especially for one like +Sally, who had been better educated than probably any one else of her +class in the whole shire; and the wages were poor. At first they gave +her 1s. 6d. a-week with her food, but after six months they gave her +2s., partly to prevent neighbours from gossiping about their want of +means. + +Here the girl remained for two years, not because she liked the place, +but because her parents told her that it was good to be able to say that +she had been so long in one family. Then she removed to the household of +a lawyer as housemaid, where two servants were kept, and had been in +that place over a year when her father met with an accident which laid +him up for many weeks. It seems that in building a rick he had somehow +been knocked off by a sheaf flung up at him thoughtlessly before he had +adjusted the previous one. He raised his one hand mechanically to catch +it, and his other slipped from under him. Being near the edge, he rolled +off heavily, striking the wheel of the waggon as he fell. The rick was +high, and the fall so severe, that, when picked up and examined, Thomas +was found to have badly bruised his shoulder and fractured two of his +ribs. + +A long and tedious illness followed, during which Thomas was unable to +earn anything. Until young Tom could know and send money the old folks +were therefore likely again to feel the pinch of want, and it would take +many months to bring help from Australia. Some of the old hoard was +still left, but doctors' bills and necessary dainties soon made a hole +in that. In nursing her husband, too, Mrs. Wanless was prevented from +earning anything herself. There was no one to go to market with the +little garden produce that might be to spare. Neighbours were helpful, +but they could do little where all alike lived in daily converse with +want. Thomas's master was kindly, and declared that he would not see +them starve, but Thomas liked to be independent, and took umbrage at the +tone in which the charity was offered. + +Talking of these things, and of the difficulties of the future, one +Sunday evening, when Sally was down from Warwick, the girl suddenly +asked why she could not go to a better place where her wages might be of +more use. She had only 3s. a week where she was, and felt sure she could +earn more. + +Her parents were for letting well alone. "All the extra money you can +get, Sally, won't amount to much," her mother said, and her father urged +her to wait for Tom's letter. Who knew that Tom might not be sending +money to take them all away to the new country? But Sally was positive, +according to her impulsive nature. She was now nearly 18, she said, and +was sure she could earn more. "Besides, mother," she added, "I want to +better myself. I am learning nothing where I am, and never will, and I +hate messing about with so many children. They ought to keep a nurse, +but they can't afford it, missis says; and I'm sure I'm nothing but a +slave. Why should you object?" + +Why, indeed. There were no good grounds for it in her eyes, and none +tangible to her parents. The result, therefore, was that Sally sought +and found a new place. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +INTRODUCES THE READER TO VERY ARISTOCRATIC COMPANY. + + +It so happened that what servants call "a good place" was not so +difficult to find when Sally went to seek it, as it had been some years +before. The growing wealth of a portion of the nation was telling every +year with increased force on the demand for domestic servants; and at +the same time manufacturers were everywhere drawing more and more of the +female population into employments in the great industrial centres of +the Midlands. In any case, therefore, Sally Wanless would probably soon +have found a place of some kind in a gentleman's family; but, unknown to +herself, her good looks had already been working in her behalf. She had +attracted the attention of the housekeeper at the Grange one day that +the two had chanced to meet in a grocer's shop in Warwick. When Sally +went out the housekeeper asked after her, and told the grocer that she +was just in want of "a still-room maid," whatever that may be. The +grocer gave Sally a good character as far as he knew her, and said +further that he believed the girl wanted a new place. What the +housekeeper heard elsewhere also pleased her; and in due time Sally was +engaged at the, to her, fabulous wages of £10 per annum. Perhaps, had +Lady Harriet Wiseman known that the pretty girl who thus entered her +house in the humble capacity of still-room maid, was the daughter of +"that seditious old poaching scamp, Wanless," as the squires called +Sally's father, she might have vetoed her housekeeper's action. But that +finely-distilled aristocrat did not condescend to notice such trivial +matters as the coming and going of menials. She barely knew the names of +some of the oldest servants about the place, and when she had occasion +to speak to any of them--a thing she avoided as much as possible--gave +all alike the name of Jane. She viewed her domestic world from afar. She +was of the gods, and her menials were of the sons and daughters of men. +To her their lives were unknown; of their hopes and feelings she knew +less than she did of the varied dispositions of her dogs. They were +there to minister to her every want and whim, to bend the knee, bate the +breath, and lower the eye before her when she crossed their path, and if +they did these things silently as machinery, it was well. Her sole duty +was to find them food and wages, and she kept her contract. But if they +failed in one iota they were dismissed. + +It would be unfair to suppose that Lady Harriet was an exceptionally +hard woman, because this was her relationship with her household. She +was indeed nothing of the kind. On the contrary, in some respects she +was a kind-hearted person enough, and would for example have turned away +her housekeeper on the spot, had she been made aware that the servants +were badly fed or uncomfortable in their bedrooms, or anything of that +sort. Sins of that kind affected the reputation of her mansion, and +jarred, moreover, on her sense of comfortableness. To have life flow +easily, to see and feel none of the roughnesses of existence--this was +Lady Harriet's ideal. For the rest--how could she help it if menials +were low creatures? They were born so, and it was for her comfort +probably that Providence thus ordered the gradations of society. She had +been heard, moreover, to plume herself upon the exceptionally good +treatment her servants got, and to declare that she knew it to be much +better than that of her sister, who was the wife of a lord bishop of a +neighbouring diocese, and a woman of fashion. + +Lady Harriet was, in short, an average sample of the modern English +aristocrat. Nay, in some respects she was better than the average woman +of her class, for she was gifted with some touch of the shrewd brains +that had lifted her grandfather, the London clothier, to great wealth +and an Irish peerage. In another sphere, as the parsons say, she might +have distinguished herself as a woman of affairs, but she loved ease, +disliked trouble, and wrapped her mind up in the refinements proper to +high birth and breeding. First amongst these she placed exemption from +all the cares and duties of maternity, and from the worries of household +management. Her aim was not lofty, and even her ladyship had begun to +fear that somehow her life had been a failure. A weary look was often +seen on her face--visible to the meanest domestic--telling all who saw +it that luxury could not insure any poor mortal from care any more than +from disease and death. But cannot one trace the hideous grinning skull +beneath the skin of the fairest and loftiest in the land? Care comes to +all, and sorrow, and pain, and for years before Sally went to the +Grange, the mistress thereof had felt the worm gnawing at her heart. + +For one thing, her husband, now a man beyond sixty, was rapidly losing +the little wits he had possessed. His life was to all appearance most +prosperous. To the envy of many, he had made much money through the +railway speculations of the preceding decade; and by material standard +of the time should have been supremely happy. But he drank and over-ate +himself, and his self-indulgences in these and other ways made him gouty +and diseasedly fat. His life had thus become a misery to himself and to +all around him, even before he had become really old; and now his memory +was failing him, a sottish stupidity was stealing over his brain, so +that it was with much difficulty that his wife could rouse him to attend +to the most necessary affairs of his estates. Peevish and +ill-conditioned when in pain, stupified with wine when well, and at all +times of a dreary vacuity of mind, this pillar of the State, wielder of +men's votes, arbiter of parish fates and men's fortunes, was not a +lovable man to live with. To outsiders he might be an object of pity or +scorn; but to his wife! Ah, well, the servants said she looked worried. +Let it pass. + +And yet had this been all she might have been in a fashion happy, for +she could turn off much of the ill-humour of her husband on his servants +by simply avoiding him. Other troubles, however, were coming thick upon +her, and making her look as old as the Squire, although she was nigh ten +years younger. Three children of the five she had borne were alive--two +daughters and a son. Of course the son, being also the heir, was made +much of, fawned on by mother and menial alike, and equally, of course, +he grew up a remarkable creature. Who has not known such without longing +for a whip of scorpions, and a strong arm to wield it? One daughter had +married a soldier--a showy man of good family but small fortune, who +sold out, became stock-gambler, and bankrupt in the brief space of +eighteen months; and then bolted to Australia to try sheep-farming with +a few hundreds given him by his friends to get rid of him. He had left +his wife and three children to the care of his mother-in-law. The eldest +daughter--eldest also of the family--was slightly deformed, and had +never left home, though some poor curates had cast longing looks at her, +hoping perhaps, that the money and influence she would have might be the +means of bringing them preferment. But they were not men of family, and +Lady Harriet would have none of them. The deformed daughter was left +otherwise to her own devices; and was probably the happiest in the +house, as she certainly was the gentlest. These were small troubles too, +and Lady Harriet could not afford to make herself long unhappy over +them; but it was otherwise with those of her son. + +This pampered darling of his mother, this remarkable youth whose leading +idea was that the world and all that was therein had been created +expressly for him--if, indeed, he had ever stopped in his career of +selfish lust to form an idea so definite--this youth of many privileges, +before whom the path of life was rolled smooth and carpeted, on whom the +sun dare not shine too freely nor any wintry storm beat untempered, was +now causing his mother more agony than she ever imagined she could bear +and live. She felt she was wronged somehow in having so much sorrow by +one she so deeply loved. Had she not done everything for him all his +life, given him all he asked, made the whole household his slaves, +forbidden his masters to task his brain with too many studies, poured +handfuls of pocket-money into his lap, and in all ways treated him like +a demi-god? Yes, yes; she knew that no mother could have done more, felt +it in her heart as she reviewed the past, and yet had not this precious +boy been stabbing her to the heart every day of his life? Lady Harriet +felt that the world was out of joint. + +Others, less blind, will say that this nurture would have destroyed the +noblest of natures. On a commonplace mind like Cecil Wiseman's its +effect was disastrous. The young man was, about the time of Sally +Wanless's entry on service at the Grange, some twenty-four years of age, +and handsome enough to look upon. When he liked his manners were +engaging, and his conversation not without shrewdness. But its range was +limited to matters of the stable. He had no acquaintance with literature +outside the sporting papers and some filthy English novels. French he +had never learned to read. He shone more in the stable than in +drawing-rooms, and understood the philosophy of horse jockeys, or racing +touts, better than the difference between right and wrong. If he had a +pet ambition it was to "make a pot of money" on a horse, and if he had +not been the heir to a great estate he might have distinguished himself +as a horse-dealer, that is, had he not come to the treadmill before he +got the chance. + +The social position to which he was born saved him the trouble of +choosing a profession, and from the grasp of the law, but it did not +prevent him from being a criminal worse than many a poor wretch in the +dock. A commission had been bought for him some years before in a +regiment of dragoons, and by means of money he was now a captain, but +there was little about him of the soldier. When not bawling on a race +course he was lounging about the clubs of Pall Mall, playing billiard +matches for high stakes, or losing money at cards with the +freehandedness of a gentleman of fashion. What leisure these high +occupations left him was devoted to the society of loose women, by whom +his purse was just as freely emptied. + +Naturally a career of this kind cost much, and soon Lady Harriet was +driven to her wits' end to find her son the means he demanded, and at +the same time to hide his extravagance from his father. The old man was +growing stupid, but not on the side of lavishness. On the contrary, he +clung to his money the more tenaciously, the more he felt that, and all +other earthly goods slipping from him, and woke to snappish +inquisitiveness when his name was wanted at the bottom of a cheque. + +For a time Cecil's mother smuggled considerable sums for her boy through +the household accounts, and by pinching herself in the matter of new +clothes and jewels, managed to keep him afloat. But soon his +wastefulness went far beyond the range of such petty expedients. From +hundreds his losses grew to thousands, and she was in despair. Again and +again did she beseech her darling to be careful, to restrain himself, to +have pity on her grey hairs. She might as well have prayed to the church +steeple. Cecil abused her, and told her that he would have money, get it +how he might; if she did not give it him the Jews would, and it would be +the worse for her. Sometimes she thought she must tell his father, but +the courage and truth of heart were alike wanting for a course so open. +Once she threatened Cecil with this dreaded alternative, and he wrote +back that he did not see why she could not put his father's name to a +cheque, and be done with it. And he spoke of the old man's grasping +tendencies in terms unfit for transcription. + +Verily, Nemesis was overtaking this poor woman, and bitter care had +become her familiar friend, though she knew hardly the fringe of her +son's iniquity. He weltered in a pool of corruption, caring for nobody, +loving no one but himself, despising natural affection, trampling it +under his feet with the unconsciousness of a demon, and crying for +money, money, as a horse leech seeks for blood. Such are some of the +characteristics of the family under whose roof the daughter of Thomas +Wanless now found herself, a stranger, bewildered with the splendour +around her, and the signs of a wealth greater than her imagination had +ever conceived. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +TELLS AN OLD, OLD STORY. + + +Sarah Wanless did not quite suit the housekeeper, Mrs. Weaver, as +still-room maid. She was not sufficiently acquainted with the work, and +got flurried when the deputy tyrant of the household scolded her, which, +after the first few days, was many times a-day. So, after a month of +this purgatory, she was transferred to the nursery as under-nurse to the +children of Lady Harriet's daughter, Mrs. Morgan. There her position was +in some respects improved, though the head nurse was a woman of vulgar +instincts, and given to nagging, as women verging on forty, face to face +with old maidhood, often are. Doubtless she had had her sorrows and +disappointments, and felt that the world had been unkind to her--a +feeling which justifies much unloveliness here below in other folks than +old maids. + +However, Sally endured her lot in hope, and soon began to find a certain +pleasure in her work, for she liked children. There were two boys and a +girl, the girl being youngest, and at this time two years old. The +drudgery was, therefore, less severe than if there had been babies in +arms, and, as the children were not naturally ill disposed, though +imperious as became their birth, they and the new nurse soon got on +very well together. Part of every fine day was spent out of doors, and +that also helped to make petty troubles bearable. It is only bitter care +and sorrow that seem heavier under God's sky than within four walls. At +first the upper nurse always formed one of the party, and was rather a +nuisance in her persistent endeavours to check what she called +"ungenteel beayvour." Her voice was a chorus ever intruding with "Master +Morgan, you mustn't do this," or, "Miss Ethel, you shocking girl, don't +beayve so," and the key did not conduce to harmony, but, like every +other discord in the world, it deafened the ears that heard, and the +young ones enjoyed themselves in spite of it. + +Nor did this drawback last long, for, some three months after Sarah +entered the nursery, fate, or the spirit of mischief, ordered things so +that the head nurse once more fell in love. The object of her mature +affection was the new farm bailiff, a gigantic Welshman some few years +her junior, and the prosecution of their courtship made the presence of +Sarah inconvenient. As a stroke of policy, therefore, she was often sent +off with the two elder children to wander through the park and gardens, +or into the woods, as the whims of the children or her own might +dictate, while the "baby," as the youngster was still called, went with +the other nurse in quest of Mr. Peacock. Then Sarah was in bliss. She +danced along with the little ones, singing as she went, romped around +the old park trees or through thickets, and often brought her charges +home splashed and dirty, with their clothes all torn, but in a state of +delight not to be described. And the scoldings that ensued did not +somehow hurt Sarah's feelings much. Life was strong within her, and her +heart was light. + +All this time, in fact, Sally Wanless was developing into a lovely +woman. Her slim, rather lanky figure grew rounder and increased in +gracefulness. Her face, ah! how many a lordly dame would have envied +her, would have thanked Heaven for a daughter with such a face! It was +impossible to look on it and not be struck with its beauty. Her +complexion was fair like her mother's, but her features resembled her +father's. The face was a fine soft oval, the nose aquiline, the brow +perhaps narrower than strong intellect demanded, but high and open, and +the eyes of greyish blue were large and full of dancing mirth. A certain +sensuousness lay hid in the lines of the mouth, but it betokened rather +an unformed character than a bent of disposition. Under the right +guidance, Sally's mouth might yet grow as firm in its lines as her +father's. Poor lass, would she get that guidance? + +Well, well, think not of evil now. Try rather to picture this fair +peasant maiden in your mind. Behold her all innocent as she is, romping +through the park with the children, dressed in her clean, neat, print +gown, with her rich brown hair perhaps broken loose and tossing about +her shoulders as she runs hither and thither, chased by the shouting +little ones. And as you look, remember that this fair lass was but a +peasant's child, born to serfdom at the best. Between her and those +children there was hardly a human bond. + +Think not of evil, I have said; and yet at this very time much evil was +at hand for poor Sally. Just as I have set her before you, all rosy and +bright with exercise, she ran full tilt one day almost into the arms of +Captain Cecil Wiseman. The captain was lounging along with his gun under +his arm, smoking a pipe of wonderful device, and with a couple of +setters at his heels, who barked half in surprise at the sudden +apparition. Sarah came rushing from behind a clump of rhododendrons, and +almost fell at the Captain's feet, through the violent wrench she gave +herself to avoid a collision. Cecil Wiseman opened his heavy eyes, +stared in impudent wonder for a moment, and then, as if moved to +involuntary respect by what he saw, doffed his hat, and mumbled +something or other, Sally did not wait to hear what. Blushing all over +her already flushed face, she darted off to hide her confusion, followed +by the shouting children, from whom she had been fleeing. + +After that meeting the captain suddenly found his nephews and niece +interesting. He condescended to play with them so often, that his mother +began to take heart. Her son was going to turn out a fine fellow, after +all, and, poor boy, she had perhaps been too hard on him for his wild +oat sowing. It was part of the education of gentlemen in his position, +and, no doubt, contributed to endow them with that contempt for the +feelings of the common people proper to aristocrats. So Lady Harriet was +happier. Her son found means to come home oftener, and stayed longer +when he did come. He even took some interest in the affairs of the +estate, went to church occasionally, and asked some of the farmers' +names. + +Never for a moment did Cecil's mother imagine that he was merely engaged +in stalking down the under nurse of his sister's children, and that the +greater the difficulty he experienced in doing so, the more his passion +incited him to acts of apparent self-denial. He grew an adept in +hypocrisy in order to put the girl, his mother, everyone, off the scent, +and it became positively astonishing to see how his habits changed, and +his wits sharpened, under the stimulus of this now exciting hunt. He +displayed cunning and ingenuity of device worthy of a better cause. + +In early summer, for example, he spent whole mornings teaching the two +elder children to ride, walking or trotting with them all round the +park, and to all appearance heedless of the nurse girl, who was left +alone with the youngest, when her superior chose to be elsewhere. At +other times, if he met her with the children, which was often +enough,--it seemed to be always by chance,--he would be busy discussing +horticulture with the gardener, fishing, or going for a row on the pond, +off to the warren to shoot, always occupied, and always ready to express +noisy surprise at finding the "pups" there, as he called the little +ones. When he went on wet days to play in the children's room, it was +always in company with his sister, who, however, was usually driven off +within a few minutes of her entrance, by the row that "Uncle" +systematically started. + +All this and much more, Captain Cecil Wiseman, the nobly born +aristocrat, put himself to the trouble to do, and suffer, in order that +he might work the ruin of an innocent, unsuspecting, country maiden. For +long, he had no apparent success, for Sally Wanless was shielded by her +very innocence, and she was also very shy, so that it was most difficult +to get near her. By degrees, however, she became familiar with the +Captain's face and figure, and his presence ceased to be either +repulsive to her or to frighten her. Not very tall, heavy in make, and, +with fluffy, sodden features, and a skin already over red from +dissipation, Captain Cecil was by no means an attractive person. His +voice, too, was harsh, and his eye evil. For all that, patience and +cunning carried the day. Labouring incessantly to throw the girl off her +guard, he succeeded, and as soon as he had done so, he knew the game to +be in his own hands. It is a terrible mystery this power which +evil-minded men gain over women. They fascinate them, as snakes are said +to fascinate birds, till they become powerless, and fall helpless and +abandoned into the jaws of destruction. + +By slow degrees then the captain drew Sally into his power, and seduced +her. He had stalked his game, with more than a hunter's patience, but he +triumphed. Bewildered, surprised, horrified, the poor girl scarcely knew +what had befallen her, felt only a vague dread and consciousness that +somehow, for her, the world was all altered, that where joy and hope had +been, there was now the ashes of a burnt-out fire. Ah, poor young lass, +this squire's son, this noble captain of Her Majesty's Dragoon Guards, +had done his best to destroy you, body and soul, and boasted of the +deed. In proportion, as the task was hard, he exulted at his success. +To destroy the life of a virtuous girl was almost a greater triumph to +him than to be first in at the death of a fox. To win this triumph he +had stooped to lies black as hell, and cared not. His end gained, his +interest in his victim at once sank, and soon he hated the sight of her +sad, tear-swollen face. Ah, God! that these things should be, and men +have no shame for the shameless seducer, no horror of his blasting +career. + +But had this maiden no guilt, then? Yes, she had guilt of a kind. She +was inclined to be vain of her beauty, and her betrayer fastened on that +weakness. His flattery pleased her, till she grew, half unconsciously, +proud that so fine a gentleman as this captain creature should notice +her. This pride begat conceit and a foolish confidence in herself that +made her betrayal easy. After what her parents had taught her, she ought +to have known better. True pride, a jealous care for her womanhood, +should have possessed her. Instead of that she grew giddy, and so was +allured to her destruction, like the moth to the candle. Thus far she +was guilty; but wilt thou condemn her, O censor? And if so, what of the +man? Is it not strange that he, so much more guilty, should go +scatheless; that to "society," as the froth at the top insolently calls +itself, this base creature, this loathsome seducer, should be as good as +ever? For him the lofty mothers of the aristocracy would have no +censure, in him their daughters, should whispers of his deeds reach +their ears, would have a livelier interest. Amongst most people he would +bear repute as a "man of gallantry," a "dreadful lady-killer;" at +worst, a "rake" of the dirt-heroic kind that heightened rather than +otherwise his eligibility as a match for the fairest of the daughters +exhibited for sale in the markets of Belgravia and Mayfair. A man that +could ruin a country maiden and then fling her from him, all heedless of +her broken heart, with no more thought of her than if she had been a +dead dog, must, in the view of society, be a man of spirit. As for the +ruined one--faugh! speak not of a thing so repulsive. Let her die in the +street. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +BRINGS THE READER BACK TO THE RESPECTABILITIES OF THE PARSONAGE. + + +After the high-born Captain Cecil Wiseman had accomplished his purpose, +Sarah Wanless lost her attraction for him. With a fiendish guile he had +tracked her down, and now that the chase was over, the victory won, why +should he bother himself further? Sarah's beauty was not less; nay, was +rather enhanced by the new sadness that shaded her face; but the Captain +hardly looked at her again. These confounded wenches were so given to +whimpering, and this serene aristocrat hated "scenes." Had Sally been +bold and of brazen iniquity, like many of the stained ones he knew in +the greenrooms of London theatres, she might possibly have held this +lust-consumed reptile a little longer in her power, but being only a +simple village maiden slowly awakening to the horror of the fate that +had befallen her, the sight of her tearful face made him avoid her. What +had he to do with the consequences of sin and folly? Was not the world +bound to make his vices pleasant to him? + +This thoroughbred captain in Her Majesty's Dragoon Guards left Sally +then, and sought other attractions, his appetite whetted by his success. +Even as he snared Sarah Wanless his roving eye had sighted other game. + +The vicar's wife, Mrs. Codling, had several daughters whom, like a +judicious mother, she was anxious to marry well. These the Captain had +deigned to notice somewhat in the course of his long visits at the +Grange while Sally's destruction was in progress. At church more than +once his greedy eye had rested on the vicar's pew with a hard gaze of +admiration, and on week days his footsteps had begun to stray towards +the vicarage often enough to set Mrs. Codling's brain a-scheming. It +would be indeed a triumph, she felt, if the heir of Squire Wiseman could +be got to marry one of her daughters. But that was a job which needed +the most delicate handling, for if Lady Harriet got wind of her designs, +the consequences would be more than Mrs. Codling felt able to face. At +the best the parson's daughter would have been considered no fit match +for so great a personage as this ill-doing guardsman, but, as things +were, the very idea of such a marriage would have been received at the +Grange with unutterable scorn. + +Times were in many ways changed with the vicar since that day now long +past, when his soft, fat hands were uplifted in holy repulsion of the +horrible rabbit-slaying criminal who stood before him doomed. For one +thing he had gathered a family around him, and for another he had been +overtaken by poverty--a poverty that came of greed. The living of +Ashbrook was worth in money about £250 a year, and there was a good +vicarage with a large garden and paddock, so that altogether Mr. +Codling was as well off in the country as he would have been with £500 a +year in town. To this income, itself above starvation point many +degrees, Mrs. Codling had added an income of nearly £2,000, which made +the home more than comfortable. A contented man would have been very +happy with such a provision, judged even by the standard of the +_Spectator_, which admires Christianity with a well filled purse, but +Mr. Codling wanted more, like most parsons. One would think from the +eagerness shown by such to possess themselves either of rich wives or of +large incomes made out of nothing, that somehow Christianity and poverty +are things that cannot exist together. Luxury is certainly essential to +the true faith of the majority of modern parsons. Without it they +shrivel up, grow morose, full of evil thoughts, such as envy and malice, +and instead of an example are a warning. + +Parson Codling, then, took the common clerical fever. During the railway +mania he saw men spring suddenly from poverty to great wealth, and very +soon came to the conclusion that nothing would be easier than for him to +do as they did. Entirely ignorant of the game of speculation, Codling +took to speculating with the fearlessness of a master in the art, and +following a common rut of fortune, he for a time succeeded. One land +speculation in which he joined, and where the shareholders of a new line +of railway were fleeced of fabulous thousands, cleared him, it was said, +about £1800, and he did well with sundry purchases of shares. Naturally, +success made him bolder. He bought anything and everything, became an +expert user of stock exchange slang, and deeply versed in the "rigs" +and dodges of the share market. Some of the squires around began to envy +him, others cursed him for a nuisance, but still he made money, and no +doubt would have gone on making it indefinitely had somebody always been +found ready to buy when he wanted to sell. Unluckily for him, the day +came when he could not sell at any price, and as he had been lifted +clean off his feet by the elation of his early speculative successes, he +only came back to the hard earth to find himself ruined. The crisis of +1847 did not break out without much foreshadowing to prudent men, but to +the Rev. Josiah Codling it came like the trumpet of doom. Till the very +last he clung to the hope that a rise in the share markets would set him +free. That fatal October therefore passed like a whirlwind, leaving +Codling stripped of all he had previously made and some £40,000 in debt. +To save him from public exposure and disgrace, his wife had to part with +nearly all her property in Worcester, and they were glad, ultimately, to +escape with as much as yielded about £200 a-year beyond the value of the +living. Had all the creditors been fairly paid they would not have +retained a penny, but Codling struggled and wheedled, and, it is said, +shed copious floods of tears over his hard fate, until pitying people +let him go. + +Such an untoward end of the glorious visions in which the vicar had +indulged naturally embittered his home circle. Mrs. Codling could not +forgive her lord for ruining her, and took to reviling the poor wretch +early and late. The miserable fellow would have borne his misfortunes +ill enough even if sympathised with. Being reviled, he bore them not at +all. He drowned them in drink. At first he stupified himself with +brandy; but that proving too dear for his means, he relapsed to gin, and +led a sodden existence. + +All too late his wife saw the blunder she had made, and tried to wean +him back to sobriety. Failing in that, her pride and cunning came to the +rescue. She smothered her tears and veiled her sorrows before the world, +hiding at the same time her husband's infirmity as much as possible from +the public eye. The lot was hard, her punishment severe, but she braced +herself to it with a woman's patient courage, and straightway opened her +heart to new hopes and dreams of better days to come. Henceforth the aim +of her life must be to get her four daughters settled in life. Alas! the +settlements would need to be humbler now than those she had once dreamed +of. The tables of the great ones of the parish were not now open to them +as they had been before her money had gone, and before Codling took to +drink. There was not even a barrack in the neighbourhood, with its +successive bevies of foolish young officers to prey upon--only +Leamington with its dawdling crowds of nobodies. Ah, well, the most had +to be made of the opportunities that offered. + +These being the circumstances of the family at the vicarage, this the +mental attitude of Mrs. Codling, who could wonder that her soured spirit +rose once more within her with a feeling akin to gratitude towards a +merciful providence, when Captain Wiseman came in her way? Despair had +sometimes nearly marked her down for his prey, and lo! here was the +Prince of the fairy tale. Dresses were forthwith obtained for the girls +such as they had not worn for years, for happily their mother had still +a few jewels left which she could pawn or sell. And being handsome +girls--two of them particularly so--they soon attracted a good deal of +the roving guardsman's attention. At first a little flirtation with them +gave a pleasant variety to his existence, rendered just a little +monotonous by the labour of stalking down Sally Wanless. The shrewd +mother contrived that his opportunities should be frequent. The old pony +chaise was furbished up anew and the girls took to driving the fat, +wheezy, old pony about the country in a manner new and far from +agreeable to it. In this way they managed to cross the Captain's trail +much after his own style with Sally. During that winter he hunted a good +deal, and the Codling girls developed an enthusiasm for the sport which +made them haunt meets far and near. Months before the Captain flung +Sarah from him he had thus become familiar with the sight of these +girls, and no sooner was she well destroyed than he began to develop a +preference for the youngest but one--Adelaide or Adela Codling. Miss +Adela was a buxom, roystering, kind of girl, of handsome features, light +brains, and abundant animal spirits. Already, though but nineteen, she +had a reputation amongst her acquaintances of being what the pump-room +gossip of Leamington styled "fastish." She affected _outré_ fashion in +dress, and was always ready to lead a revolt against established +proprieties. To play the boisterous hoyden at a harvest home or +farmer's Christmas dance, where she could scandalise all the sober +domestic virtue of the parish and make every buxom farmer's lass wild +with jealousy by her extravagant flirtations with the young men, +delighted Miss Adelaide beyond measure. + +This free young lady was most to the Captain's taste of all the four, +but her mother felt disappointed at the preference. It not only left the +eldest girl out in the cold, but made Mrs. Codling's task more +dangerous. Adela had no prudence, and unripe plans might become known to +Lady Harriet through her folly. Besides, her ladyship would probably be +harder to persuade into accepting Adela as a daughter-in-law than any of +the other three. + +So thought the prudent, anxious mother; but she was too wise to +interfere. A risk must be taken in any case, and she resolved to let the +captain have his way, bracing herself to greater vigilance and higher +flights of matrimonial diplomacy than ever. And she found a much more +efficient ally in the Captain than she had expected. Men, in her +opinion, were never prudent in love matters, but this man was as +cautious as a diplomat on a secret mission. It did not suit him any more +than Mrs. Codling that his mother should scent danger in his visits to +the vicarage. In such a place as Ashbrook and in ordinary circumstances +all their care would have gone for nothing; but, happily for their +plans, her ladyship did not go out much now, and called seldom on any of +her neighbours. Her husband, the estate, her miserable son, any one of +them would have given her grief or work enough to keep her well at home. +When she went abroad, therefore, it was generally for an hour's drive +out and home, or to Leamington or Warwick on business. + +Just now she was struggling hard not to lose the dream of hope that had +for a short time gladdened her heart about her boy, and was failing in +the effort. Notwithstanding his long visits to the Grange, his demands +for money continued to be insatiable. He always put his necessities down +to the bad conduct of the Jews. They had got him fast, he said, and +would give him no peace. But as bill after bill got paid, only to be +succeeded by a new crop, Lady Harriet began to doubt the truth of this +tale, and in her unhappiness shut herself up more than ever. The Captain +had only to spend a little of the money wrung from his mother in bribing +her maid, and he was free to destroy all the women of the parish if he +chose. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +REVEALS THE SORROWS OF A MERE PEASANT MAIDEN. + + +Lady Harriet did not even hear of her son's ongoings with Sally Wanless, +though to the menials of her household and the gossips of the village +they had furnished for months back one of the most delightful and +engrossing topics of conversation that the oldest among them had ever +been permitted to share in. It was better than the most sensational +romance of the _London Journal_; for was not this drama being acted out +before their very eyes? They took the same delight in it, though keener +and deeper, that they would have taken in any sport involving the death +of the weaker creature, and few among them cared in the least for the +girl whose danger they failed not to see. Among the young her beauty +excited envy, and they virtuously rejoiced that her pride would yet +bring her sorrow. All, young and old, loved an intrigue for itself; and +would not have spoiled their sport for the world. The servants at the +Grange carried their tales to the village, and the village gossips drew +together in the fields, on the road, by the pump, at cottage doors, to +roll the sweet morsel of scandal under their tongues. + +All this time Sarah's parents were kept in ignorance of what was afoot. +Neither dreamt of danger to their daughter, because neither was aware +of the fiend who pursued her. As for Sarah herself, she behaved better +after she had begun to feel the spell of the Captain's fascination upon +her than before; was more demure and obedient. This she was half +unconsciously, half from a wish to propitiate her father and mother in +view of she knew not what. + +Pausing not to think, heedless of the smiles and whispers, the nods and +winks that greeted her wherever she went, all of them signs full of +warning to one disposed to alarm, free, happy-hearted Sally Wanless +plunged into the abyss. + +Ruined and forsaken, she came to herself only to find that she had +entered a new world. Sorrow and darkness dwelt within where light had +been; and around her all was changed. The silent hints of her fellow +servants gave place to open taunts and scorn. None pity a fallen woman +so little as her fellow women, and Sally's fellow servants were not long +in making her life an unrelieved agony. The bloom forsook her cheek, her +step became listless, her eyes dull and sunken. She literally withered +before her tormentors, and they pitied her not. + +A change so great soon attracted the attention of her parents, +especially as for a little time her manner in her visits to them became +suddenly dashed with recklessness. The wretched girl, in trying to be +her old self, was, like a bad actor, overdoing her part. Her parents +grew uneasy, and the uneasiness gave place to alarm when Sally grew pale +and silent. Afraid to speak, hoping it might be some cross in love +matters, which most young lasses experience, both her father and mother +yearned after their daughter. At length the accidental discovery of some +trumpery trinket of the Captain's, which Sally wore round her neck, led +to the revelation of all their daughter's peril and loss, although the +knowledge came too late. + +The ribbon by which the trinket hung had become loose, and it fell on +the floor. Before Sally could pick it up, her mother's hand was on it. +Holding it to the light, she found that it was a gaudy looking locket, +and instantly demanded where Sally had got this. Taken by surprise Sally +answered at once, + +"From Captain Wiseman." + +"From Captain Wiseman! Oh, Sally!" That was all she said; but the tone +and the look went to the girl's heart and tore it with a new misery. Her +father turned in his chair and looked at her for a minute or two without +speaking. She took his gaze to mean rebuke, and mechanically tried to +escape from the house. Then her father spoke. + +"Stay, Sarah," he said. "Go with your mother to the boys' room. We must +know what this means." + +Equally mechanically she obeyed, suffering her mother to lead her away. + +Left alone, Thomas said that he did not think of anything particular for +some time. He just sat still as if animation was suspended, a dull +feeling of pain, a sense of stunnedness possessing his whole being. The +fate of his pretty daughter was before his inward eye all the time. He +gazed at it and realized it, but it did not move him. His emotions were +frozen up. + +It was some time before the mother and daughter came back, and the girl +would not face her father. He rose to bid her good night. She hesitated +a moment and then muttering, "I shall be late," turned and fled from the +house. + +Mrs. Wanless told her husband that she could make nothing of the girl. + +"I plead with her," she said; "I scolded her and tried to work on her +feelings, but she just hid her face in her hands, and rolled and moaned +like to break her heart." + +Poor, lone lass, her tale needed no words to make it plain. Already it +was known to all the village, and this Sunday night the hideous reality +entered the minds of her parents, breeding there a sorrow the keenest +they had ever known. + +At the Grange, too, who was there knew not? That Sunday night Sally was +actually late as she had said, and the scolding, seasoned with brutal +taunts, which she had to endure from her superior, might have stung the +girl to retaliation had not a deeper pain laid hold of her spirit. She +paid no heed to the taunts and broad allusions of her neighbour, whose +heart was perhaps the bitterer from the recent failure of her own last +effort at husband-catching. A fire raged in Sally's heart that seemed to +be consuming her very life. Her one hope now was to die. That would be +best. As soon as possible she crept silently away to bed. How blessed is +the darkness to the soul that is ashamed! Sally's grief, deep and +bitter though it might be, was little to the sorrow and pain she had +left that night in the home of her childhood. The deathly calm in her +father's mind was succeeded by a storm before which Sally's sobs were as +the wailings of an infant. His spirit had been stirred to its depths by +many storms in the past, and needed much to rouse it now, but what he +had learned to-night was surely enough. In the darkness of the night the +full horror of what had befallen his daughter and himself was pressed in +upon his thoughts till his heart rose in bitterness unspeakable. Was it +true, then, he asked himself again and again, that his child, the +darling of his old age, had been ruined by this cub of the oppressor? +Had this blackest of all wrongs been added to all the rest? There was +but one answer, and as he brooded over the shame and misery that would +fall upon his daughter and on all the family, as he thought of this +heartless seducer going through the world scathless, passion swelled +within him. An impulse to vengeance swept over him. Had the Captain been +within reach of Thomas's hands then, the old man might have slain him. +Yes, he felt he could die cheerfully for his daughter's sake, were her +wrongs fully avenged. Ah, if he could thus bring back her good name! But +would not mere vengeance be sweet? To take the scoundrel's life-blood! +He set his teeth, his frame shook under the gust of his terrible agony +of grief, hatred, and shame, and he longed for the daylight that he +might go and find the seducer of his precious one. The desire for +revenge was strong upon him with the strength of a great temptation. + +Then his mood changed. The fierce fires burnt themselves low. Weary and +exhausted he lay still, and for the first time became aware that his +wife was silently weeping by his side. He had thought she slept. A +softer mood stole into his heart, but he could not speak of the grief +that consumed them both. In the morning he rose, weary and sad, to go +about his day's work. Days passed before he made up his mind what to do, +and during these days, his wife waited with anxious patience, too wise +to worry her husband. At last, he resolved to bring her home. Anger and +revenge were conquered thus far, and love and pity for his child were +victorious. + +"We must take Sally's shame to ourselves, mother," he said to his wife, +when his mind was made up. "I know it will be hard for you, harder than +you think; but she is our flesh and blood, and we must stand by her. +What say ye, wife?" + +"An' what can I say, Thomas? I've been wishin' her home ever since +Sunday, for I'm sure she'll die where she is. Oh! my poor darling; God +pity her. The sin is surely not hers;" and Mrs. Wanless wept, but her +heart was glad that the father was ready to shield and forgive. +Sometimes, as she watched the hard stern lines of his face, or his fixed +gaze of wrath, she had dreaded a sterner decision. But now again +Thomas's better nature had triumphed, and his faith in the everlasting +justice inclined him to mercy. + +As this talk took place on the Thursday evening, it was thought best to +wait for Sally's return on Sunday, rather than to excite comment by +going at once in quest of her. Her mother had stolen to the Grange on +the previous Monday morning, to find out whether Sally had gone back, +and had then seen and heard enough to make her dread another visit. + +But they waited in vain for Sally that Sunday. She never came near her +father's house, but spent her hours of liberty alone in the woods, +afraid to face her father, and vaguely wishing she were dead. Her mother +must go and tell her what had been decided on, after all. + +So on the Monday morning, Mrs. Wanless again set out for the Grange. +With sickening heart and trembling steps, she crept along the sweeping +avenue like a thief in dread of being seen. The day was grey and cold, +as the latter days of April often are, and the leaden clouds threatened +rain. It was one of those days when spring has, as it were, turned back +to give a farewell hand-shake to winter. A chilly blast swept along the +ground in gusts, and made one shiver; the world looked dreary and +forbidding; birds were silent; and as one looked abroad on the cheerless +world, and mournful sky, one grew unconsciously to have a shut-in kind +of feeling. If only a rift would appear in that grey canopy, then one +might breathe and have hope. Who has not come under the spell of such +days? To whom have they not seemed to increase the bitterness of sorrow, +to add weight to the burden of disappointment? + +Mrs. Wanless was probably all the sadder this morning that the day was +sad, though her thoughts were too fixed on Sally to be overborne by any +idle impressions from the leaden aspect of the landscape. Or perhaps +she felt that the day and her feelings were in wonderful unison. A +beautiful spring morning might have jarred on her spirit. Spring +sunshine is so gladsome, so full of hope, and Mrs. Wanless had no hope, +only a longing to bring her daughter home and hide her away out of the +world's sight. + +Intent on her errand, she approached the house--a large, square +building, with innumerable staring windows and a bare lawn in front, +where a poor woman could find no hiding place--but as she neared the +servants' door round in the east end of the mansion she paused +irresolute. She remembered the reception of a week ago, the whispers and +nods and innuendos of the wenches who came and went with a wonderful +bustle of extemporized activity as she stood speaking to her daughter +just by the door. If Sally would but come out, she thought, as once and +again she turned back unable to muster courage, and cowered by the +garden wall, which approached that end of the house, wherein lay the +servants' quarters, with her old shepherd's plaid shawl gathered tightly +round her. But no one came save menials, out of whose sight the poor +bruised mother would fain have kept herself. The children of the +gentlefolks would not be out of doors that day. It was too cold. + +At last Mrs. Wanless nerved herself to a desperate effort, left the +shelter of the garden wall, and walked as firmly as she could up to the +kitchen door, and feebly knocked. She waited a long time as it seemed to +her palpitating heart, but no answer came. Her knock had not been heard, +so she tried again, this time a little less feebly. It was no +use--nobody minded her. Would she go away? Nay, she dared not do that. +She would wait, somebody was sure to turn up presently. The resolution +was hardly formed when the door opened, and her daughter and she stood +face to face. A scared look came into the girl's eyes as she exclaimed, +"You here again, mother;" the blood mantled to her forehead, and she +half stepped back. But her mother caught her by the arm feverishly, and +led her away from the house, saying-- + +"Oh, Sally, I do so want to see you, but I didn't like to come in again. +Why didn't you coom home last night?" + +Sally tried to frame some excuse, but her voice failed her; she turned +pale as death, and hung her head. + +"Why didn't you, dear;" her mother repeated, in a dull, mechanical sort +of way. Sally's feelings overcame her. She burst into tears, and through +her sobs gasped out-- + +"I thought you--father--wouldn't let me come back." + +Her mother did not at once reply, she was too pained, and also too +keenly alive to the eyes that were at many a window gloating over her +daughter's misery. Almost roughly she tightened her grasp on the girl's +arm, and hurried her round the corner of the garden wall, never halting +till safely behind a clump of evergreens. Then she released her +daughter, turned, and clasped her to her breast. Both wept now, and, as +she wept, the poor, stricken mother cried-- + +"Ah, Sally, Sally, my pet, my pet, you mustn't think on us like that," +in tones that expressed reproach and love and pity and misery all in +one. But no word of reproach did she utter. + +It was some time before the two were composed enough to say much about +anything. Sally roused herself first, for she suddenly recollected that +she had orders to be quick back. She had been sent out for milk for the +nursery. + +"I must run, mother," she said hurriedly, "or Mary Crane will nag at +me;" and she made as if to go. + +"Wait a moment, Sally dear," her mother answered. "I had nearly +forgotten what I came for; A-dear! a-dear! you mustn't stand no more of +Mary Crane's naggings, Sally; an' if she begins to-day, you're to give +up the place and coom home. Now, mind, Sally," she added, eagerly, "that +will be best, give up your place;" for Sally seemed to shrink from the +idea of coming home. + +"But father----he"---- + +"It was father as said it, Sally dear. Father says you must coom home. +He can't a-bear to see you suffering and abused in this big house as +you've been so wronged in; an' ye'll do what father wishes, won't you, +my pet?" + +"Is it really true, mother. Are you sure that father will let me coom +home?" + +"My dear, he sent me to tell ye. Oh, say ye'll coom home, Sally?" + +"But father'll be angry with me and scold me, mother, and I can't abide +that--oh, I can't, I can't," and Sally shook her head despairingly, the +gleam of hope vanishing from her eyes. + +"No, Sally, your father wonnot scold ye. Surely you know him better nor +that. He is too heart-broke about ye a' ready to have any scoldings +left, an' he was never hard to ye. Coom, now; say you'll give up the +place, and it will be all right." + +This and much more the mother said, pleading as for her daughter's life, +and she won her point. Once Sally's dread of her father was somewhat +removed, she caught eagerly at the prospect of escape from the Grange. +Any change would be like going from Hell to Heaven that would take her +away from that place of torment. So anxious was she to get away, once +her mind became fixed, that she never once thought of the burden she +would be to her parents. But for the inexorable month's warning, she +would have taken flight that night. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +WHEREIN WE SEE BREEDING--HIGH AND LOW. + + +Mother and daughter parted almost the moment that the former was assured +of Sally's readiness to come home, and Sally, nearly half-an-hour late, +sped on her errand. It was with a glow on her face and a light in her +eye that had been absent for many a day, that she ultimately reappeared +in the nursery. Her bright looks seemed to add fuel to the wrath of the +upper nurse, who burst out on Sally before she was well in at the door. + +"I shan't stand this no longer, miss, depend on't," the soured, elderly +maiden wound up. "I'm a decent woman, I ham, and don't mean to be +disgraced by the likes o' you, not if I knows it. I've stood a lot too +much from you a'ready, shameless gipsy that ye are. Your hongoin's is +just past bearin', and I mean to tell Mrs. Morgan this very day as 'ow +she must get another nurse an she means to keep you." + +Nearly if not quite as much as this had been said to Sarah Wanless +before now, and she had borne it silently with a bitter heart, because +she found herself alone in the world. But to-day she was bolder from the +consciousness within her that she was not yet wholly forsaken. Driven to +bay by this woman's tongue, she turned upon her, and with flashing +eyes, a voice trembling with passion, cried-- + +"And I have stood too much from you, Mary Crane. You have behaved to me +worse than if I had been a dog, and you're a hard-hearted, selfish +woman. What right have you to trample upon me, as if you was a saint and +more? You've a black enough mind any way, and mebbe you've done worse +nor me before now, for all your spiteful pride and down-looking on a +poor, heart-stricken girl, as never did you no harm. Shame on you, Mary +Crane, I would not exchange my lot for yours yet, if it was to give me a +heart like yours. And you need not trouble Mrs. Morgan with your tales. +I've made up my mind to stand your insolence no longer. I'll go to Mrs. +Morgan myself and give up my place, and tell her how you've used me." + +This unexpected outburst fairly took the nurse's breath away. She +stuttered with inarticulate passion, and danced again in the agony of +rage. A torrent of abuse was on her tongue, but she only managed to hiss +out an opprobrious epithet at the girl, at the sound of which Sally +faced her like one transformed. Drawing her form up to its full height, +and holding her clenched hands close by her sides, she marched straight +at nurse Crane, and fairly stood over her with her face a-flame and lips +set, every feature rigid with scorn and wrath. Crane's heart died within +her. She cowered and hid her face in her hands. + +"Say that word again, Mary Crane," Sally demanded in a low, +passion-thrilled voice, but Mary Crane uttered never a sound. + +"Say it again, will you!" Sally repeated in low tones. "Dare to call me +that name again, and I'll----" But Sarah had no threat big enough for +her wrath. She caught her breath sharp, and came closer to her enemy, +suddenly bent down and laid hold of Mary Crane's head with both her +hands, forcing her to turn up her face. + +But Crane would not look at her. With a half wail, half shriek, her +knees gave way under her, and she sank on the floor wriggling as if +about to take a fit. + +Sarah looked at her for a moment contemptuously, and then turned away, +while the heroic mood was upon her, to seek an interview with Mrs. +Morgan. + +That lady received the announcement of her under-nurse with her usual +high-bred indifference, merely saying, "Oh, very well, you can go." But, +as the girl turned away, something in her manner made Mrs. Morgan +scrutinise her keenly. The girl seemed changed even to the eyes of the +aristocratic lady, and, perhaps, she, too, began to suspect her, for +Sally thought that she saw an expression of mingled contempt and +annoyance on Mrs. Morgan's face, of which she caught a last glimpse on +turning to shut the door behind her. It might have been only her own +heated fancy, but, all the same, Sally's brief spell of courage was over +from that moment. Happily Mary Crane vexed her no more openly, but she +took her revenge in secret. + +Mrs. Morgan's suspicions had been in reality so far excited as to cause +her to make further inquiries. She called Mary Crane into her room one +day and questioned her about "this girl, Sarah--What's her name?" Mary +Crane for a little time would tell nothing. She now both hated and +feared Sally Wanless, and until she could discover exactly where the +girl stood with her mistress, she was not going to commit herself. Her +remarks were therefore cautiously shaped at first, with a view to draw +her mistress out. She prevaricated, dropped hints, and tried to measure +the extent of Mrs. Morgan's knowledge before revealing her own. There +was not only the girl to consider, but also the Captain. It might be +more than her own place was worth to "blab on the Capting." + +Either Mrs. Morgan was obtuse or ignorant, for she gave no response for +some time to Mary's stream of words. "You see, 'm, as Sarah's a light +sort of girl, 'm, as is allus a-runnin' after the men, 'm. She mayn't be +bad, 'm, but she don't beayve proper for one in her station. I'm sure, +'m, I've told her times enough as no good id come of her upsittin' ways, +and her ongoin' with the gentlemens--_a_ gentleman in particler--'as +hoften shocked me, 'm." + +Thus she ran on, till Mrs. Morgan, quite bewildered, exclaimed-- + +"But what has the girl done, then, Mary?" + +"Laws, 'm, 'ow should I know, 'm. Hax herself, 'm, hax the--_a_ +gentleman as you knows, 'm, knows hintimate, 'm." + +"A gentleman I know intimately--what do you mean? I know no gentleman. +Surely you don't mean Captain Wiseman?" + +"Well, 'm, I don't know, 'm. You see, 'm, I thought the family mightn't +like it----" + +"That will do, Mary, that will do. I want no more beating about the +bush. Tell me, yea or nay, has Captain Wiseman been noticing this girl?" + +"Yes, 'm, he 'as, 'm; but I don't think----" + +"Never mind what you think, you are sure of that fact?" + +"Oh, yes, 'm, quite." + +"Ah, thank you; then that'll do for the present," and she motioned to +Crane to leave the room. + +That worthy departed not quite satisfied. She had doubts as to whether +her mistress liked to know the truth, doubted also if she had done Sarah +as much harm as she wished to. But she showed none of these mental +clouds in the servants' hall. There, in Sally's absence, she was +triumphant, and the "said she's" and "said I's" with which the tale was +embellished, served to emphasise the triumph which she indicated that +the interview had been to her diplomatic skill. She only confessed to +one regret. Mrs. Morgan had somehow cut the interview short, "just when +I was a-goin' to tell her all about it." + +Mrs. Morgan, however, did not need to be told all about it. She knew the +habits of her brother, and, her interest once aroused, managed to put +this and that together so well as to arrive before many minutes at a +tolerably shrewd conclusion. "This, then," she said to herself, "is the +secret of Captain Cecil's wonderful reform." That reflection at once +brought her face to face with the question--Shall I or shall I not tell +my mother? It was not a question so easily answered as it seemed. Mrs. +Morgan was inclined to do it from her dislike of the Captain, who had +always absorbed too much of his mother's attention--ought I to have said +love?--for the good feelings of the rest of the family. But, then, this +very preference made it difficult to decide. She might enrage her +mother, and there were family money matters yet to settle, in the +disposition of which a mother's displeasure might cause permanent +changes. For these and other reasons, "too numerous to mention," Mrs. +Morgan hesitated. She would wait on events, on her mother's moods and +her own; so avoiding a decision. + +That seemed easiest, and yet it proved the hardest course to Mrs. +Morgan, who had quite a vulgar woman's delight in retailing scandal. +Before a week was out she found it expedient to tell all. Her mother and +she held a long conference in secret on the Friday after Sally had given +up her place. What they said to each other will never be known; but one +decision came of it that was at once acted upon. Sarah Wanless was +dismissed that night by the orders of Lady Harriet, who sent her own +maid with the message. "Jane," as she was called, delivered it with curt +insolence, and at the same time flung a month's wages, which Lady +Harriet had likewise sent, on the table, with a significant gesture, as +if to say, "You are too unclean, Sally Wanless, to be touched by a +superior person like me." + +When Sarah went home, which she did as soon as her small box was packed +up, and told her parents that she was dismissed, her father was so +indignant that he wanted to send the extra weeks' wages back. His wife, +however, persuaded him that it was better to let things alone. "The +money," she said, "is her right, and can do us no harm; and Sally is +well out of _that_ den anyway." And Mrs. Wanless was right. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THROWS A LITTLE LIGHT ON A SUBJECT SOMETIMES UNCTUOUSLY CONDESCENDED +UPON BY PREACHERS OF "WORDS." + + +I wonder where Christians find authority for our modern treatment of +illegitimacy? Preachers of all sects are never tired of telling us that +they preach peace and goodwill among men. Their religion is to redeem +all wrongs, to make mankind better, to lift the fallen, and cheer the +broken-hearted. So at least they say, but when we look for deeds, we do +not find many in this lower world. The fulfilment of the Christian ideal +is prudently (?) adjourned to the next, above or below. Wherever one +turns in contemplation of modern Christianity, one finds a ghastly +divergence between its professions and its practice, and at no point is +this more visible than in the behaviour of the Churches towards women +who have sinned. Taking their tone from a corrupt society, which desires +to enjoy its vices, and to prey upon its women without taking upon +itself responsibilities which the poor besotted Turk even never dreams +of shirking, the dispensers of the gospel of peace lead the chorus of +reprobation which is heaped upon the woman, who, like the virgin mother +so many of them profess to worship, bears the burden of maternity in +shame and loneliness. No distinction is drawn between woman and +woman--rarely or ever is the guilt of the man considered; the duties of +fatherhood can be neglected by the seducer with tacit, nay, often with +the full approbation of society and the Churches. But on the woman a +penalty falls that is worse than death. She has yielded to the seducer, +and henceforth she must be pressed down and cast out, unless--and the +distinction is important--she be a sinner of the highest caste in +society, when the sin may be covered with lies as with an embroidered +garment; or, unless she belong to the lowest, where the +difference between morality and immorality is too often nearly +indistinguishable--thirteen centuries of more or less well-paid-for +priestly instruction notwithstanding. Speaking broadly, however, the law +of social life condemns the "unattached" woman and her offspring to +obloquy and degradation, and it does this not merely without the protest +of the Churches, but by their full sanction. For ages priests of all +hues have arrogated to themselves the power of regulating the union of +the sexes; without their rites and blessings no two human beings could +become man and wife. When two were thus united the universal cry was +"What God hath joined together let no man put asunder." The priest, in +fact, arrogated to himself the power of the Deity. His "joining" was +God's, and none but his held on Earth or in Heaven. Greater blasphemy +has hardly ever been committed even by priests. By this abominable +fraud--this false assumption of authority--deeper social wrongs have +come upon the world than from any other priestly assumption whatsoever. +The priest has habituated society to disregard all ties formed in what +is called an illegitimate manner. It has sanctioned the desertion of +women by their seducers, and what is even worse, the desertion of +children by their fathers and mothers, for, of course, if the parents +were not priest-joined, the offspring must be of the devil. A man may, +according to this dogma, have lived the life of a fiend, ruining women, +bringing children into the world to live or die as the poor law or +hunger should order; but this is no hindrance to his obtaining the +blessing of "the Church" should he one day take it into his head to +submit to be married to one woman--for gain, for any reason, or none. + +Scoundrel and saint are alike welcome to the priest's services and +blessings if the marriage fees be paid; and with the full concurrence +and blessing of any sectary in the world, a man may disjoin himself from +a woman or women he has lived with for years in order to take another, +if there was no marriage uniting him to these he deserted. God, of +course, could not be expected to "join" those who never sought a +priest's help. The whole basis of this treatment of the sexes is grossly +and blasphemously immoral, and the fruits of it are visible on every +side. To it we owe the highly nourishing character of the "social evil" +quite as much as to man's inherent depravity, and we shall never really +begin to overcome that evil until the whole of the teachings and +assumptions of the sects, as applied to marriage and divorce, are swept +clean out of the public mind. + +Who is there to whom the history of some poor woman betrayed and +deserted is not known--a woman, it may be, tender-hearted and true, as +worthy of wifehood as any of her sex? Did society pity that woman? Have +you pitied her? Perhaps, but would you not also gather up your garments +and pass by on the other side, if you met her in public? Habit is so +strong, you will say in excuse; yes, yes, habit is strong, and the woman +is weak. Why should one heed her? She brought her fate on herself. Leave +her to perish. The man she loved has left her, and the world treats her +no worse than he. If her own sex spits upon her and hisses at her, what +can man do? These be the thoughts of most men over broken lives, and +most readers may therefore feel impatient that I should linger over the +ruin and fall of a poor peasant lass. Yet what can I do? my task is to +write the history of this family; its sorrows and failings, its burdens +and tears, are all that it has wherewith to claim the world's attention. +And to my thinking, they mean much. Their lives were real to them, as +yours, reader, is to you, and they had a part in making up the pitiful +social life of this decrepit old England possibly just as high as yours. + +Therefore must I ask you to turn aside with me for a moment to look +again on Sally Wanless, when she reappears from her seclusion--a shame +mother, with a babe born to sorrow and shame in her arms. I have said +reappears, but she has not yet ventured to meet the, to her, scathing +gaze of the people in the village street. She steals into the little +garden behind her father's cottage, and there, in the soft September +afternoons, you would find her seated beneath the shade of an old apple +tree, face to face with her doom, and looking at it as one who has no +hope. + +In some people the soul wakes late; some, indeed, appear to pass through +the world without its ever awakening. They may be bright-hearted people, +full of animal life and spirits, capable of much work and a few +sacrifices, yet they have never risen up to full consciousness of the +meaning of life, to its higher impulses, and its terrible risks and +obligations. No great inward commotion has ever visited them; they +vegetate tamely on till they reach the grave. Others, like Thomas +Wanless, awake early to consciousness of the mystery and burden of +existence, and battle with hopes and fears their lives long. + +Would that his daughter had also found the realities of living ere the +curse of life had come upon her! But she did not. Her awakening came too +late. While it was possible she hid from herself the meaning of her +fall, and refused to look at the awful questions which for the first +time surged in upon her soul. It was not possible for long. When the +wail of her infant first broke on her ear she awoke and was stricken +with the full consciousness of what she had lost. Her past life stood +out before her as something apart; its hopes belonged to another state +of existence, to a life in which her future could have no part. All +lonely at the heart she had borne the pains of motherhood, and a feeble +infant lay by her side bearing witness against her now and evermore. No +father welcomed it. The sound of its feeble cry brought a forsakenness +about the mother's heart nothing could remove. In vain her mother +soothed her. In vain her true-hearted father, bravely hiding away his +shame and grief, took the little one in his arms and fondled it with a +fatherhood that assumed all the sin and all the responsibilities of his +child. Sarah could not be comforted. Blank despair took possession of +her. Why was she not dead? Why did the child live? Surely they would be +both better dead and buried out of sight for ever? This was the under +tone of her thoughts now, save when at times, and as she grew strong +again, gusts of passion like her father's would sweep over her soul. +Then she felt for moments as if she could compel the world to stop and +witness her revenge. Should a fit like this master her, what might one +so desperate not do? Hers was a soul awake and in prison, but if it +burst its bonds? + +Let the gay and frivolous, the light talkers, the young and giddy, the +tempter and the tempted, stop to look upon this ruin. Is it a small +thing, do you think, for a man to have the undoing of this woman and +child laid to his charge. He passes in the world unharmed, nay, admired, +probably, the very women in secret whispering admiringly of his prowess. +But does that make his guilt the less? Is there no retributive justice +dogging his heels, from which all the glories and adulations of earth +cannot shield him? Look at the history of such men, and be they kings or +carters, you will find that they become degraded wretches, moral +abortions, repulsive ruins of humanity, as the result of their crimes +against woman. Yea, the woman is avenged, though only after death comes +the judgment. + +But Sally Wanless thought not of revenge, that calm September evening, +on which my memory pictures her through the mirror of other eyes, +seated, half in shadow, half in sunlight, beneath the old apple tree. +Her baby lies asleep on her lap, the sunlight glints through the leaves +on her hair, and flickers now and then across the infant's face--but she +heeds neither child nor light. A far-away look is in her eyes--a look +that tells of longing, for what will never be hers again on earth. The +evening sun-glow throws into relief the pale, pinched face with its +unresigned hungry look, for in that face there is no welcome to the +sober autumn warmth. The dull fire of Sally's eyes is the fire of an +unquenchable pain. Where is there room in her life for joy any more? Her +eye does not trace heaven's battlemented walls, in those grand masses of +white clouds--the blue expanse beyond is not eloquent of the near world +unseen. No; her thoughts are self-centred; she never looks upward. Day +after day she sits here, still and silent, as one stunned. Her spirit +seems at such times as if beaten to the earth, never to rise again. The +child sometimes fails to interest or rouse her. When its wails demand +attention, she will fondle and kiss it much, as if it were made of wood. + +Alas; poor Sally, winsome lass. How many such as you go aching through +the world, broken-hearted, and forsaken,--waiting for the judgment to +come, when, as they still, perhaps, lingeringly hope, the wrong shall be +righted for evermore. + +Her parents yearned after their daughter, and yet feared to break in +rudely upon her brooding spirit. Neighbours came too, full of kindly +promises and curiosity, ready to speak volumes of comforting words; but +Sally shrank from contact with them,--preferred the garden seat, or her +own garret window. + +Thomas became broken-hearted about his child. He could not get her to so +much as look at him. Often times he laid his hands softly on her bent +head, and whispered--"Sally, my lass, cheer up a bit. Don't break +mother's heart and mine, by taking on so." But Sally merely wept, and +bent still lower over her babe. They could not get her to go out during +the day--only at night would she creep along by the hedge-rows, in the +most unfrequented paths, accompanied by her mother, and hiding the child +as much as possible, beneath her shawl, when it was not asleep at home. +Her morbid fancy made her think that everyone knew her shame. She could +not see people talking together without a rush of blood to her face, as +if she felt the talk must be of her. + +And how fared it all this time with her seducer? As the world elects, it +shall always fare. From it he had neither frown nor word of rebuke. +Those that knew his sin thought as little about it as he did, and that +was apparently never at all. He took no more notice of Sarah Wanless and +the infant girl she had borne to him, than if they had been dogs. Nay, +far less, for they were hateful to his selfish, ease-loving nature, and +therefore he rigorously banished them from his sight and thoughts. Just +as before, he took his "pleasure" coming and going to town, and living +the life of sottish ease, as became a man of fashion and a court +soldier. At the Vicarage his welcome was just as warm as ever, although +every soul within its walls was quite aware of the ruin he had brought +on the poor peasant's daughter. Mrs. Codling's verdict naturally was, +that it served the gipsy right, and and her father too. He was always an +insolent fellow, who never showed proper respect for the Olympians, and +this would perhaps take down his pride a bit. This was the view of the +matter insinuated to Adelaide, who had become "skittish" when the news +first reached her ears, thereby, however, increasing the ardour with +which the captain followed her. Mrs. Codling had quite made up her mind, +that through Adelaide she would succeed in catching the Captain as a +son-in-law, and therefore took occasion to put "matters in their proper +light." + +"Of course, my dear," she would say, "we shall have to get rid of the +girl and her brat, for it might be unpleasant to have them in the +parish; but the Captain can manage all that, never fear, and if the +whole nest of them remove to another part of the country, the parish +will have a good riddance. I daresay a few pounds will do it, for all +that old rascal's pride." + +Adelaide was soon satisfied, and soon, also, her flippant tongue had +disseminated this view of the case all over the parish; for Adelaide +would talk to the housemaid when no better listener was to be had. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +BRINGS THE DOUBTLESS RELUCTANT READER ONCE MORE INTO CONTACT WITH A +"GALLANT" WOOER, AND GIVES FURTHER PROOF OF THE DIFFICULTY WHICH BESETS +ALL ATTEMPTS TO HARMONISE TRUTH AND FASHIONABLE "CHRISTIAN" +RESPECTABILITY. + + +Thus was the Captain's way made smooth to him, and the country side soon +became as full of his ongoings with "the parson's girl" as ever it had +been about his intrigue with Sally Wanless. + +Thomas Wanless himself saw and heard much, for his cottage was not very +far from the Vicarage road, and the Captain sometimes forgot himself, +and passed his very door, instead of taking up the back street. +Doubtless it never entered the Captain's head that any peasant would +accost him about such a trifle as the ruin of his daughter. He ought +rather to feel honoured thereat. What he did fear was the girl +herself--he having a fine gentlemanly dread of "scenes." + +Nevertheless, Thomas's wrath was awakened anew at the sight of this +"cool blackguard," as he most irreverently styled the Captain, and soon +the feeling extended to them that "harboured him." It was borne in upon +his spirit, as the Methodists say, that he must denounce the "ruffian." +Yes, yes, he thought, this must be done; till it was done there would be +no relief in his mind. He had borne too much in silence, but that this +harbouring of criminals should go on before his face was more than he +could stand. + +"It will do no good," his wife said, as he declared his purpose to her. + +"Good!" he answered, "who wants or expects good to come to them or us? I +expect none, but I must and shall tell the blackguard what I think of +him." + +Yet this was easier said than done. He could not well stop the Captain +in the street, for he nearly always drove or rode, and never once passed +Thomas's cottage door on foot. It was utterly useless to call at the +Grange, for no one would see him. Obsequious menials might even set the +dogs at him, or trump up a charge against him and put him in jail. +Besides, Thomas had no time except on Sundays to go in quest of his +enemy, and on Sundays the Captain was usually at the Vicarage. In the +bitterness of spirit which these thoughts brought him to, Thomas might +have, perhaps, done something rash, but happily necessity prevented him. +He had now to work, if possible, harder than ever--early and late at the +farm, on his allotment, in the little garden at his cottage, he laboured +for the means of life--and did but poorly, though the work kept him up +and helped him to control the fire that burned within him. + +At last the chance he longed for came suddenly, and without his seeking +it. He was passing the Vicarage garden one beautiful Sunday afternoon +in October, and heard voices on the little lawn which lay between the +hedge and the house. Laughter and the chatter of merry tongues fell on +his ear, and one hard man's voice he instantly guessed must be that of +Captain Wiseman. To reach that conclusion and the resolve to face his +daughter's seducer then and there may be said to have constituted one +mental effort. A rush of strong emotion swept over him and made him +feel, as he opened the Vicarage gate and slipped within, as if God had +laid a mission upon him to lay bare the iniquity of this man and of +those who countenanced him. Under the influence of this feeling he +straightened himself and strode across the grass direct to the place +where he heard the voices. + +The scene that burst upon his view if possible heightened his courage, +and I can well imagine that the rough, toil-gnarled, weather-buffeted +old man looked like an avenging fate to those whose privacy he had thus +invaded. Always dignified and noble in aspect, the anger at his heart +now doubtless made him heroic. + +Mrs. Codling and her four daughters were seated in a group on chairs in +front of a sort of arbour that stood at the further end of the lawn, and +a little behind the western end of the house, not far from the +churchyard, from which it was hidden by a clump of evergreens and a +wall. Behind Adelaide Codling, leaning over her chair, and apparently +teasing her in a familiar _nonchalant_ way, stood Captain Wiseman. As he +faced the gate he was the first to catch sight of Thomas Wanless, and +although he hardly knew Sally's father by sight, he appeared to guess +intuitively that a "scene" was at hand. His red face grew redder still, +his talk suddenly ceased, and an ugly scowl gathered on his fleshly +brow. Mrs. Codling's back was towards the approaching peasant, but the +Captain's sudden silence and the look he gave made her turn round just +as Thomas came up. She also divined that trouble was at hand, and, +bridling up at the idea of that "disgusting creature" parading his +girl's shameless conduct before her pure-minded daughters, prepared at +once for action. + +"See if the Vicar can come out, my dear," she said to the girl nearest +to her, and then addressing Thomas, cried in tones meant to be frigidly +severe, but which only succeeded in being savagely spiteful-- + +"If you want the Vicar, my good man, go to the house. You have no right +to enter this garden." + +She might just as well have addressed the nearest tree. Thomas paid no +attention to her, but stalking up to the Captain, glared at him till +that wretched being shivered with fear in spite of himself. Perhaps this +"gallant" soldier thought Wanless would knock him down, and that may +have been the peasant's first impulse. However, he did not, but instead +turned after a minute or so to Mrs. Codling, and asked, with stern +abruptness-- + +"Madam, do you know who this man is?" + +For a brief space the woman seemed scared and cowed by the tones and at +the face she saw looming above her. "Good gracious me!" she exclaimed, +half to herself. "What does the man mean?" Then, recovering courage, +added, "I do believe the creature is crazy. I'm very sorry, Captain +Wiseman, but really I fear you will have to come to the rescue of us +weak women. Do speak to him and order him off." + +At this two of the girls began to scream, but Adelaide giggled. + +"Since you give me no answer, madam," Thomas struck in, "I shall tell +you who this man is," and he stepped round and backed a little, so as to +be able to look at both the Captain and the Vicar's wife. "This man is +the seducer of my daughter," he continued. "He has committed a crime +against her and against me which is worse than murder in the sight of +God. He is the father of a helpless child that, for all he cares, might +be flung into a roadside ditch to die. For his cold-blooded villainy +that child and my child must suffer all their days. This man, I tell +you," and here his voice rang all over the place, "this man has broken +an innocent girl's heart, and you know it, madam, and you harbour him. +Shame on you!" + +Mrs. Codling grew pale with rage, and tried to speak; but before she got +a word out Thomas had turned to the Captain, who took a step forward as +if to collar him. + +"Captain Wiseman," he said; and at the sudden, sharp address that wretch +paused, grew mottled in the face, and dropped the raised hand by his +side. "What!" cried the labourer, "would you dare to touch me, you low, +libertine scoundrel? Stand back, lest I have to sully my hands by +choking the life out of you, reptile that you are!" + +How much further Thomas might have gone I know not, but by this time +Mrs. Codling had got her voice and charged in turn. She ordered Thomas +to leave the place, and in shrill tones threatened him with the police, +with the Captain's vengeance, with the Vicar's wrath, called him a hoary +old sinner, and well-nigh swore at him for polluting the ears of her +precious daughters with the story of his own girl's immorality. It was a +fearful torrent, Thomas afterwards confessed. Until then he had never +known the length of a woman's tongue. But it came to an end at last, for +Mrs. Codling lost her breath. With a parting shot to the effect that +Thomas had only got what he deserved, and it was like father like +child--low wretches all--the ruffled woman relapsed into a fuming +silence. Somehow the tirade brought relief to Thomas's overcharged +heart. It had an amusing and grotesque side that struck him forcibly in +spite of himself, and it was therefore with a certain sense as of +laughter welling up through his heart of sorrow--a feeling for which he +would fain have reproached himself--that he answered in a voice that +bore down all attempts at interruption-- + +"Poor lady, I did not come here to quarrel with you, far from it. God +forgive you for having such ill feelings, and you a parson's wife too. +But what could one expect when you harbour scamps like this fine +military seducer here? That's enough to make your heart the abode of all +that is wicked. I bear you no malice though, far from it. I would warn +you to mend your steps in time. You call me names, and accuse me of +bringing my corrupt affairs before the pure ears of your daughters. +Take care, woman, take care. The serpent that destroyed my precious lass +has not lost his fangs, and your turn to mourn as I mourn may be nearer +than you think. Because you have fine clothes and luxuries, and live in +a grand house, you think that the ills of the poor cannot reach you. +Take care, I say, or the day may come when I can return your taunt, and +tell you that if you had set a better example to your children, if you +had guarded them against evil company, you might have been spared much +sorrow and humiliation." With this, Thomas turned to go, but the cries +of Mrs. Codling arrested him. + +"The wretch," she shrieked. "Josiah, do, for heaven's sake, speak to +this low fellow. His foul abuse is positively sickening." And as the +Vicar shuffled up in obedience to the summons, his wife, turning to the +gallant rake, added, "I'm so sorry, Captain, that you should have been +insulted here. This must be very disagreeable to you." + +The Captain found voice to assure her that it did not matter. He didn't +"care a hang, you know," and gave it as his opinion that a strategic +movement towards the house might be the best end of the affair. + +"Yes, yes," cried Adelaide, "let us go indoors and leave that fellow to +speak to the trees. He'll soon tire of that;" and she proceeded to +gather up the stray wraps. + +But before this noble plan of out-manoeuvring an enemy could be carried +out, the Vicar and Thomas had encountered each other, and Mrs. Codling +had to rush to the defence of her husband. + +"My good man," the Vicar had begun. "Eh, Thomas Wanless is it? Dear me! +You forget yourself, sir. You mustn't behave in this way in my garden, +and before ladies, too. Go away, go away, and come to me to-morrow if +you have anything to complain of. I'll see you in my study." + +"Come to you!" answered the peasant in tones of amazement and scorn. +"Come to you! what could you do, you whited sepulchre? You God-forsaken, +poor, tippling creature. Mind your own affairs," and he laughed a bitter +laugh, as once more he turned to go. + +The Vicar also turned and slunk away with a scared guilty look, but his +wife's wrath found outlet anew. + +"This is too bad," she screamed after Wanless, "the low scoundrel. Oh, +Captain Wiseman, I do wish you would thrash the fellow to within an inch +of his life. Oh dear! oh dear! will nobody pity me," and she fairly wept +with rage. + +The last that Thomas heard of them was the Captain explaining in his +most persuasive words that "By Jove, you know, it would hardly be the +thing for me to take to fisticuffs with a low labourer-ruffian, else, by +Gad, nothing would have delighted me more than to beat him to a pulp, +you know." + +Thomas turned and gazed in the direction of the speaker as if to invite +him to come and try, but the Captain was busy hurrying the ladies into +the house, and though near enough to see well the look on Thomas's +face, he showed no sign of accepting the implied challenge. + +It was Mrs. Codling who, brave to the last, and woman-like, gave the +parting shot. + +"Be off, you low blackguard," she screamed, and then disappeared within +the house. It afterwards transpired that she caught sight of some of the +servants watching the encounter with Wanless from a window, and had much +comfort from the blowing up she gave them. Her superfluous temper was +thereby wholesomely expended. + +Thomas Wanless went home that afternoon struggling with a feeling of +disappointment in which there mingled a certain degree of shame. He had +never entered the Vicar's grounds with the intention of either wrangling +with the Vicar or his wife. A desire to expose a scoundrel was his sole +motive, and he had felt a sense of the heroic as he proceeded to seek +his daughter's betrayer. Had that man abused him, or struck him, or in +any way given him the opportunity of letting loose his wrath, he would +have, perhaps, felt that a duty had been discharged. Instead of that, +Thomas had merely fallen out with a sharp-tongued, not over-sensitive +woman, and abused a poor parson who, whatever his failings, had not at +the moment the least intention to act otherwise than as a peace-maker. +The heroics had all vanished, and in their place was something grotesque +and ludicrous. The more Thomas thought of it the more he felt that he +had that day vindicated neither his own honour nor his daughter's, and +he resolved that henceforth he should bear his sorrows in silence. + +Perhaps this self-condemnation was not quite reasonable, for Mrs. +Codling provoked Wanless most unjustifiably. She, at all events, got no +more than she deserved. But the labourer was sensitive and proud, and +these feelings made him prefer silent endurance to the loss of +self-respect. Could he have foreseen the consequences which seemed at +least to flow from his one effort at bringing home to the sinner his +sin, he might have had still greater doubts about the wisdom of the +course he pursued on that calm October Sunday afternoon. + +For one thing, the noise of the row between the Captain and Thomas was +soon heard all over Ashbrook. The Vicarage servants retailed it with +many embellishments to their friends--as a secret, of course--and +Adelaide Codling herself let out some episodes to her then bosom friend. +Presently, and in due course, the tale reached the Grange, where it took +the circumstantial and easily comprehended form of an account of a great +fight between the Captain and the labourer, in which the latter had got +two black eyes, a broken nose, cut lips, a thumb out of joint, and some +said three, some five teeth knocked down his throat by the scientific +handling of the gallant guardsman. It was nothing to the purpose to say +that the labourer had been seen going about his work as usual, for +people of his sort thought nothing of maulings that would have nearly +been the death of superior persons--like flunkeys and valets. + +In some such guise, the story ultimately reached the ears of Mrs. +Morgan, who was so much shocked at the idea of a fight between her +brother and a low labouring fellow that she felt constrained to tell +her mother, especially as the fight was alleged to have taken place on +the Vicarage lawn, in presence of the Vicar's family. Mrs. Morgan, +keener sighted than her mother now was, had for some time been aware of +the ambitions of Mrs. Codling, so far at any rate as to disapprove of +the constant intercourse which the Captain had with the Vicarage. In +telling her story, therefore, it was possible for her also to lay +emphasis upon the Captain's relationship with the Codlings, which she +took care to do, and as she flattered herself much that she succeeded +admirably. + +At first it seemed as if she had done nothing of the kind. The Juno of +the parish, Lady Harriet Wiseman, forgot everything for a time in her +wrath at the abominable presumption of a labourer in fighting with her +blue-blooded son, and was eager to have him arrested and punished. In +vain Mrs. Morgan pleaded the scandal such a step would cause; her +wrathful ladyship would hear never a word. Nothing pacified her till she +had spoken to her son on the subject, and she had so set her heart upon +making an example of that vagabond fellow, who had troubled the parish +ever since she could remember, that she was positively more angry than +before when her son told her that what she wished could not be done for +the best of all reasons--there had been no fight. Then her wrath fell +partly on her son, and they quarrelled. She asked him what he was doing +at the Vicarage. He replied that it was none of her business, and left +her with the seeds of jealous suspicion in her heart. + +Next time the Captain met his sister, he rounded upon her, and, +according to common report, called her "a damned meddlesome fool" for +interfering in his affairs. Thus matters were likely to become ravelled +at the Grange. Perhaps it was to lull suspicion and allow the heated +atmosphere to cool that the Captain soon after this betook himself to +Newmarket, and thence to London. Before he went he gave a private hint +to the head gamekeeper that he would not be inconsolable if that +questionable functionary could manage to make out a case of +night-poaching against Thomas Wanless. An underling heard of the plot +and warned Thomas to take care, and though Thomas never poached, the +warning was probably needful enough. + +The row at the Grange was the least significant of the consequences that +flowed from Thomas Wanless's visit to the Vicarage Gardens. Mrs. Morgan +had apparently indicated to her mother the suspicions she entertained as +to the aims of Mrs. Codling, and Lady Harriet, afraid to tackle her son +about his amours, attacked Mrs. Codling instead. It was plainly enough +intimated to that scheming woman that Lady Harriet disapproved of the +constant visits of the Captain to the Vicarage, and Mrs. Codling was +asked to discourage them. + +A sensible person would have deferred to the wishes of the greatest lady +in the parish on a point so delicate, but Mrs. Codling proved to be +anything but sensible. Afraid of exciting the wrath of Lady Harriet by +open hostility, she took refuge in underhand plots. The intercourse +between the Captain and her daughter, which had hitherto been carried +on, in a manner, openly, was now changed, with the mother's connivance, +into a secret intrigue. By this change the whole moral attitude of the +family became debased. Captain Wiseman was astute enough to see through +the would-be mother-in-law's motives, and cunning enough to egg her on +in a course of duplicity and folly. His mother need know nothing, he +represented, till all was over. No doubt she would at first resent a +secret marriage, but when she saw she could no longer help it, her wrath +would soon cool down. + +With talks like these it may be supposed that Adelaide Codling, apt +pupil as she was, soon came to look upon a secret marriage as just the +one thing desirable and necessary to secure her happiness; and, from +this conclusion, it was but a step to destruction. Probably enough +Captain Wiseman had never any intention of marrying the girl, but +whether or not, he certainly had abandoned it, when, after a few weeks +of secret meetings and clandestine letter writing, he succeeded in +persuading her to join him in London. She left home just after +Christmas, in secret to all appearance, though the village gossips would +have it that her mother knew of her flight beforehand, and nobody +doubted that she had run away after the Captain. In vain did Mrs. +Codling give out that her daughter had been called away suddenly to +visit a sick aunt. Nobody believed her. Secret intrigues cannot be +successfully carried out in a quiet country village, and what was +declared to be the true version of the flight was current in all the +country side within a week of Adelaide's departure. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +IS TOO BAD FOR DESCRIPTION. + + +Unthinkingly, Mrs. Robins repeated this story to Mrs. Wanless one day in +Sally's hearing, and immediately repented of her folly, for Sally +uttered a low moan and fainted. From that day the gloom of her life +seemed deeper. With unceasing tenderness and watchfulness her parents +had sought to bring back hope to their lost one's heart, and until this +ugly bit of gossip reached her they had hopes of succeeding. Sally had +began to talk a little more freely, and, recognising the burden she was +to her parents, was becoming anxious to get a situation of some +kind--provided always that it might be far away, where no one would know +her. But from the time she came back to consciousness on this unhappy +day, darkness again settled down on her spirit. She sat apart brooding, +as when first her babe lay on her lap. That babe itself appeared to grow +almost hateful in her sight, and was left to the care of her mother, +weary though the old woman was with work and sorrow. With mouth hard set +and eyes looking wistfully sometimes, as if in terror, into a world far +away from the home nest, Sally heeded no one. Her father again grew +deeply concerned about her, and tried casually to draw her out of the +trance that seemed to chain her soul. It was useless. She answered him +in monosyllables or never at all. At times too, and when he spoke to +her, a strange, resolute look would gather on her face. It was not +exactly obstinacy, though she certainly was unyielding. Rather was it a +look as of one who had made up her mind to a great sacrifice, and feared +that she might be betrayed into abandoning a duty. At that look her +father always somehow grew afraid. It was evident to him that his +daughter in some way connected Adelaide Codling's flight with her own +life, but how he could not guess. + +But his fears were only too well grounded, for one day, Sally, too, +disappeared. Watching her opportunity when the babe was asleep, her +mother busy washing, and her father away at the farm, she dressed +herself as if for a walk, went out, and did not return. All day her +mother had endured the keenest anxiety in the hope that Sally would come +back. She was unwilling to send for her husband, and could only make one +or two cautious inquiries through her nearest neighbours. They knew +nothing; Sally had been seen, of course, but she looked and walked as +usual, with hasty steps and eyes bent on the ground. Though startled at +the news, Thomas was not surprised. The flight only fulfilled his own +forebodings. Swallowing a morsel of food he started for Warwick, and +soon learnt there that a girl answering to Sally's description had left +by the slow London train at eleven o'clock. On his way home he bitterly +reproached himself that he had not taken means to make such a step +impossible. The two or three pounds that Sally had brought home with her +he had scrupulously left untouched, and these she had taken with her, +as also the few trinkets given to her by the Captain. Thomas had no +doubt whatever that Sally had fled to London. + +For a time this blow positively dazed Thomas and his wife. Once more +their nights were nights of sorrow and tears, and for them the mornings +brought no joy. Only the little one that lay sleeping in its wee cot was +all unconscious of trouble, or that its presence added poignancy to the +bitterness with which the labourer and his wife mourned for their lost +one. + +Thomas Wanless, however, was not a man to abandon himself long to +useless grief. The more keen the pain the more certain was his nature to +rise and fight for deliverance, and before long he had made up his mind +that, while he had life, his child should not be abandoned. Cost what it +would, he must follow her to that dreadful city whose horrors darkened +his imagination. The lost one should be found, and, if God would but +help him, saved. So he resolved, although as yet he knew not how his +resolution could be carried out. + +For a day or two he brooded over it, afraid almost to tell his wife. The +fear was weak. No sooner did Mrs. Wanless know what her husband meant to +do than she became almost cheerful, and brought her ready wit to bear on +all possible plans for enabling him to go. Full of a true woman's +self-sacrificing spirit, she at first proposed to go out charring, and +so make a living, but the child made that impossible. The utmost she +could do was to continue to take in washing, and even that would be a +severe strain upon her, with a babe to tend. At best, too, it would +afford her only a precarious living, and nothing possible could be left +to help her husband in London. + +Unable to decide on ways and means, but yet determined to carry out +their one great plan, they ended by casting their trust on Providence, +leaving the future to take care of itself. As a first step, Thomas went +to Stratford, and withdrew the few pounds left in the bank there,--some +£10 or £12. That done, he next went to consult his daughter Jane, as to +what help she could give. Jane had little, and was saving that little to +get married and to emigrate; but when the whole matter was laid before +her, she, too, fell in with her father's plans, and offered him her +money. + +"No, no, I cannot take that," he answered. "I hope to get work in +London, and cash enough to keep soul and body together. I only ask you +to help your mother with it, should she be in need--to help her all you +can, in fact." + +Jane promised all the more cheerfully, perhaps, that her little all was +not immediately to be taken from her to help in this hunt after Sarah. + +Mrs. Wanless also wanted her husband to write to Tom, telling him the +circumstances, and asking for help, but to this he would in nowise +consent. + +"Tom," he said, "needs all his money just now, and what he sends must +come of his own goodwill. Besides we shall get Sally back again, and +then the best thing will be to send her out to Tom. She wouldn't go if +she thought Tom knew what had befallen her. Jacob does not yet know, +Jane will keep silence, and there is no need for Tom to be enlightened." + +This reasoning was unanswerable, and Mrs. Wanless had to acquiesce with +what heart she could. Nay, more than that, sore against her will, she +had to submit to see her husband start for London with only £5 in his +pocket. The rest he insisted leaving with her, on the same grounds as he +had refused Jane's savings. "I shall get work, my dear," he said; "never +mind me," and she had to yield. + +Possibly Thomas would have been less confident had he known what going +to London, and work in London, meant; but in spite of his dread of the +great city, his conceptions were so hazy, that in his heart, as he +afterwards confessed, he never contemplated needing to work there at +all. He hoped to find Sarah in a day or two, or at most within a week, +and once found, was sure that she would come home. His wife, it turned +out, formed a truer conception of the task before him, although she had +never seen a bigger town than Leamington or Warwick. But her fears did +not abate her husband's confidence. Without fixing dates, he told his +master and all whom it concerned, that he expected to be back soon. +Struck, perhaps, by the generous purpose of the man, Thomas's master +thrust a couple of sovereigns into his hand as they parted, but Thomas +would not accept them. In spite of all the farmer could say, Thomas +stoutly maintained that he had enough. "My own means are sufficient," he +said. + +"Your own means sufficient," laughed the shrewd Scot. "Well, I like +that! Man, how much hae ye got?" + +"Five pounds," said Thomas. + +"Five pounds! Five pounds to go to London, and look for a runaway girl +with! Good heavens, man, that'll no keep ye a week. Ye'll starve, +Wanless, lang afore you find the lassie, if ye ever find her. God, man, +if that's a' you can scrape for the job, you'd better bide where ye +are?" + +"That I cannot do," Thomas answered. "Starve or not, I must go and seek +my child." + +The farmer looked at him for a moment, gave a grunt of amazement, and +turned on his heel, with the remark-- + +"Well, well, Wanless, a wilful man must hae his way, they say, and you +must have yours, I suppose, but, faith, I doubt you'll rue your folly." + +And with that consolatory observation, Thomas parted from a master whom +he had learnt to respect, for the rough outside hid a not unkindly +nature. + +The liking was mutual, and was not on Robson's part lessened by the +refusal of his man to take the two sovereigns. The sturdy independence +of his hind was a thing so uncommon, that it excited his admiration, and +stirred his somewhat dulled natural feelings of generosity. Many a time +during the absence of her husband, Mrs. Wanless had cause to bless the +"Missus o' Whitbury Farm" for acts of unostentatious kindness which that +motherly Scotchwoman needed, it must be said, little prompting to +perform. On her husband's suggestion, she called one day at the cottage, +and at once took an interest in the pale, sad woman, and the little +child. Thereafter, many little presents of milk, and of butter and +cheese, found their way to the cottage from Whitbury Farm. And what Mrs. +Wanless felt most grateful of all for, was that these things were never +sent to her by servants, but were brought either by Mrs. Robson herself, +or by one of her daughters. The farmer's wife did not try to make Mrs. +Wanless feel that she was a miserable dependent upon her bounty. She had +not in that respect, as yet, acquired English manners. In the Lowlands +of Scotland, I am told, there is no abject class like the English +agricultural labourer, and these hard Scotch farmer folks had still to +learn that their hinds were not human beings of like passions and +feelings with themselves. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +TELLS OF A BETTER QUEST THAN THAT OF THE HOLY GRAIL. + + +Thomas Wanless set out for London, within a week after his daughter's +disappearance, on a dull, cold, January morning. His farewells were +cheerful, but his heart was downcast enough, and the further the slow, +crawling train took him from home the heavier his heart became. It was +dark long before he reached Paddington, to be there turned out upon the +murky bewilderment of London streets, knowing not where to turn his +footsteps. + +Mechanically he followed the string of people and cabs flowing out of +the station into Praed Street, the lamps of which showed faintly through +damp, smoke-charged air. Then he paused irresolute. A sense of +loneliness and hopelessness stole over him, intensified probably by +hunger, for he had eaten nothing save a crust of bread and cheese since +early morning. He was as one lost, as helpless in the crush of whirling +humanity as a wind-driven clot of foam on a storm-tossed sea. Amid all +this hurry and bustle of human life, where could he go? how find +lodgings? Fairly overwhelmed by the sense of desolation, he leant +against a wall to try and collect his thoughts, and mentally prayed for +courage and guidance. + +For some minutes he stood thus self-absorbed, when a rather kindly +voice, speaking almost in his ear, roused him with a + +"Good evening, mate. Be you a stranger?" + +"Yes," Thomas answered, looking up. "Yes, I came up from Warwick to-day, +and never was in London before." + +"Be ye in want o' work then, or not?" the voice demanded. + +"Why, yes, if I can get work I'll be glad of it; but it wasn't that +exactly as brought me here. You see----." But Thomas checked himself, +and turned a scrutinising gaze on his interlocutor. He saw a rather +grimy, ill-clad, thick-set man, whose face seemed as kindly as his +voice, though its expression was barely discernible, except by the eyes, +which shone brightly in the dull, yellow light of the neighbouring lamp. +By the sack-like covering which the man wore on his back, and by his +be-smudged appearance generally, Thomas judged that he must be a +labourer among coals. He was poor at any rate, and he looked kindly; so +after a brief inspection, to which the stranger submitted in silence, +and as a matter of course, Thomas resumed-- + +"You see, I'm come up to look for a lass of mine as has runned away." + +"Ah!" ejaculated the stranger. "Ah!" and then he stopt with his mouth +open, as if embarrassed by this sudden confidence. But he soon recovered +himself, and after relieving his feelings with a "Well, I never! Who'd a +thowt it?" came back to practical business, by asking Thomas if he knew +of a bed anywhere. + +Thomas said "No." + +"Well, then," answered the man, "you just come along with me. You ain't +likely to find the gal to-night, and you can't stand there till mornin'! +Perhaps my missus can give you a shake-down in the corner somewhere." + +Thomas was only too glad to accept the stranger's offer, and, hoisting +his bundle of clothes over his shoulder, with his stick through the +knot, he at once assented, and followed wheresoever the other led. They +trudged along for a good half-hour, mostly in silence, for Thomas was in +no mood for talking, and his companion appeared to have no gifts in that +direction. At length they reached the door of a dingy, tumble-down house +in that now happily abolished slum, Agar Town, and into this the +coal-heaver turned, saying-- + +"Mind the steps, friend. The stairs is rather out of repair." In this +rickety, filthy, old tenement the coal-heaver rented two rooms on the +third floor. He had a wife and three poor sallow-looking children, who +were frightened when they saw a strange man enter with their father. The +man introduced his wife as Mrs. Godbehere, and said his own name was +William. They invited Thomas, who in turn had given his name, to share +their supper, and he contributed to the feast the remainder of his bread +and cheese. Consulted about a bed, Mrs. Godbehere declared that it was +impossible for her to give Thomas one, and he agreed with her. She knew, +however, a neighbour who had a lodging to let; 2s. 6d. a-week she +charged for a small room with a bed in it--the lodger to find and cook +his own food. In this room Thomas was ultimately installed, and right +thankful he was to find a roof above his head in that appalling city. +The walk along Marylebone and Euston Roads had impressed him more +profoundly than ever with a sense of the vastness of London. It was like +a first lesson in the meaning of infinity, and it struck him with a +feeling of dread. Oft times did he ask himself that night whether he was +not, indeed, mad in attempting to trace Sarah in such a sea of human +beings. But mad or not, he resolved that his task should not be lightly +abandoned. + +Thus occupied he passed a restless night, and got up weary next morning. +His bed, he found to his cost, was not over clean, and it was with a +depressing sense of comfortlessness that he went to seek the Godbeheres. +The coal-heaver had already gone to his work, but Mrs. Godbehere +directed him to an eating-house near by, where he went and had some +breakfast. Refreshed a little, he forthwith started on his quest. He +would wander the myriad streets of London till he found his lost one, he +had said to himself. + +And day after day, night after night, he did wander hither and thither +through the most frequented thoroughfares of London, returning late and +worn-out to his miserable lodging. A growing hopelessness lay at his +heart, and made him sometimes almost unable to drag his limbs past each +other, but he held on with a dogged persistence that was almost sullen. +Through Godbehere's friendliness, and the pressure of his own heart +agony, he had scraped acquaintance with sundry policemen, but they could +give him no effective help. One would suggest that he ought to keep a +close watch about the Strand, another mentioned Oxford Street and the +Circus, or the Haymarket. All agreed, in their callous sort of way, that +"if she had followed a man to London, she was a'most sure to find her +way to the streets before long." Thomas did not doubt it. He knew the +pride of his daughter too well to doubt it. Rather than bear among her +kindred the brand which her unfallen sisterhood would put upon her, she +would face a life of open shame, where none could cast stones at her. So +Thomas held on his way, but never got a glimpse of his lost one. His +means were nearly exhausted, for, pinch as he might, it costs money to +live in London. Yet he would not surrender. No, he would work. But how +could he get work--he, a mere street loafer, and as lonely in London as +if it had been a desert. London with its hurrying crowds, its rush of +vehicles, its roar and bustle, and flowing lights, fairly broke down his +imagination. He felt himself a helpless atom amid a mass of atoms that +knew nothing of his misery, and grew too weak-hearted almost to seek for +work. But for his quest, he felt--sometimes even said to himself--that +he could lie down in the gutter and die. Possibly his wretched lodging +and the sleepless nights he had passed in his pain had much to do with +this utter collapse of mind. I cannot decide, but he has told me that +never till that time did he realise the sustaining power of a fixed +idea. "I came to find Sally," he said, "and I held to that." For that he +braved not only hunger and cold, but the horrors of the night in the +most abandoned thoroughfares of London. For that he mingled in the +crowds of educated and other roughs that frequented theatre doors, and +the doors of the coffee-houses and prostitute dens in the Haymarket and +Gardens. For that he endured cursing and foul language inconceivable, +stood to see men and women hurrying themselves into worse than a fiend's +condition by their self-indulgence and sin. Into low dancing rooms he +penetrated, often to be bundled out neck and crop as a spy, or at best +to be horrified by filthy jokes or still more filthy exhibitions of +obscenity. That very Agar Town, in which he lived, he again and again +explored, facing its stenches and miseries, its wantonness and riot, and +worst of all, its terrible crowds of weary, sin-rotting, broken-hearted, +down-beaten, and unfortunate humanity. Often did he see women there +peering out of their dingy, rag-stuffed windows, that bore traces of +having once been as fair as rash Sally. Nay, the very rag-pickers who +lodged in its garrets, Godbehere assured him, had many of them once been +"flaunting women of the town." Women of the town, indeed, and was not +the town doomed? Thomas thought that it was. To him London was already +hell. The fumes of abominations choked his mental senses, and made him +long to escape. + +Nevertheless, his mind was fixed. He could not go without his child, and +in order to carry out his purpose he must work. By the friendly help of +Godbehere he ultimately obtained employment in the coal yard at +Paddington-wages 2s. 6d. per day. He felt rich and strong for his task +henceforth, and as soon as he could he removed to a rather better +lodging near his work. At a waste, as he considered it, of several +evenings' lodging-seeking, he found a small clean room in the +neighbourhood of Lindengrove, for which, including a plain breakfast, he +paid 5s. 6d. a-week. His landlady was an elderly widow who kept three +lodgers, and she rather demurred to Thomas's demand for a latch-key, so +that he might go in and out at nights as he pleased, but his sad, +earnest face, and his remark that he was looking for a lost daughter, +conquered her fears. Thomas had his key, and felt a kind of thankfulness +that if he did find Sally he could now bring her to a better refuge than +the vermin-filled hole in Agar Town. + +Five weeks had well-nigh passed, and Thomas was no nearer his object, to +all appearance, than the day he arrived in London. But now that he had +work he felt more assured of his purpose, and therefore less sad. So he +sent home cheery letters to his wife, bidding her hope yet for Sally, +telling her he felt that God would not forsake her or them. All his +letters his wife got read to her by the schoolmaster, and then passed +them on to Jane. Money he would have sent, but could not. All that was +left after paying his food and the clothes he needed for his work he +spent in his quest. For work did not cause him to abate his vigilance, +nor did it much reduce his wanderings. As soon as the yard closed he +hurried home, changed his clothes, swallowed a cup of tea, and, +sometimes on foot, sometimes on the top of an omnibus, he made his way +to the usual haunts of vice. There he would wander, haunting theatre +doors, peering into refreshment bars, and sometimes spending sixpence +to get inside a low music hall. The sights he saw froze his very heart's +blood with horror, and he often asked himself--Is all this vice, then, +the product of our civilisation? Where is the Christianity in the habits +of a people who permit tens of thousands of their fellow beings to rot +and perish as a matter of course, and prate about the social evil in +their sleek respectable way as if it was a dispensation of heaven? How +many of these poor girls, whose lives had been blasted, who now brazenly +mocked "society," and laid snares for the destruction of its darlings, +had mothers, perhaps, even now weeping for them in secret? As he thought +of these things he felt as if he could wander, like Jonah, through the +streets, preaching the doom of this city of Sodom, whose streets already +savoured of the bottomless pit. + +Thoughts of this kind were brought home to him with terrible force one +night that he saw Adelaide Codling. He was standing watching the +play-goers leaving Drury Lane, when his eye suddenly caught the face of +that girl amid a group of women and "swells," amongst the latter of whom +was Captain Wiseman. She was showily dressed, and had a profusion of +glaring jewellery scattered about her person, and she was talking fast, +and laughing in a loud, defiant sort of way. But Wanless could see that +she was not happy. As she drew near where he stood he could mark the +restlessness of her eye, and the nervous boldness of her manner, and he +pitied her. Is this what she has come to already? he thought to himself, +and involuntarily shivered. Ah! if his own sweet lass was now like this, +could he reclaim her? Would it not be too late? Adelaide Codling passed +on, unconscious of the presence of her fellow-villager, saw not the +pleading look that crossed his face, the eager step forward he took as +if to speak with her. She entered a cab with Wiseman and two others, and +disappeared from sight. + +The eagerness of Thomas to find his lost one was intensified after that +night. Hardly a night-watchman in all the district escaped his +importunities, and from most of them the old man met with a rough +kindness that soothed him even in his absorbing grief. One old sergeant +he met in the Strand, and who had more than once listened to his +descriptions and his queries, advised him to alter his beat. "There are +a great many haunts of streetwalkers," he said, "besides the Strand and +the Haymarket. Why not try the south side of the river, or up Islington +way? There is the East-end, too, and Oxford Street and Holborn. Yes, +none knew where a girl may get to, once she cuts adrift in London. Such +heaps of them takes to the streets nowadays, that you can find some in +every thoroughfare in London." + +Wanless felt the observation true, alas! too true, but what could he do? +His means would not allow him to search the whole city. He took a wider +range, however, going by turns to one part of the town, now another, +sometimes as far as the Angel and Upper Street, Islington, sometimes +south to the Elephant and Castle, and the vice haunts of Walworth and +the Borough. Occasionally, too, he searched the bridges across the +river, but always with a sort of dread that his doing so was a +confession that he believed his girl capable of drowning herself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +HAS IN IT, ALAS! NOTHING THAT IS NEW. + + +The winter was moving away thus, and Thomas Wanless was rapidly losing +his vigour. Hard work and constant vigils, coupled with a sore heart, +and a weak appetite, pulled the man down, and by February he had to +confess that the long walks were too much for his strength. Mercifully, +the weather often made it impossible for him to go out at night, and +when it did clear up, he contented himself with going somewhere to watch +the stream of people passing by. "I will wait," he said to himself, "for +my darling to come to me." He could not even stand very long, but +usually sought the rest of a friendly doorstep, and at times a recess on +a bridge, watching, with tender wistfulness, the stream of life hurrying +on around him. Strange to say, he had more than once seen Adelaide +Codling since that night at the theatre, and somehow that always gave +him hope. Her face seemed to say to him, "Your daughter cannot be far +away." + +Often the "unfortunates" came and talked to him, not rudely in their +wantonness--alas! poor, forsaken waifs--forsaken by all save God--but +soberly, as if moved to speak to this still, sad-eyed, grey-faced old +man, who looked out on the world so keenly, and withal, with such +tenderness in his look. They would tell him fragments of their +stories--sad enough all, and wonderfully alike--tales of seduction, and +heartless desertion, varied only by the degree of turpitude usually +exhibited in the man. At one time it would be the tale of a light-headed +girl, seduced by her master--a married man--who huddled her out of +sight, to hide his shame. Many came from garrison towns, the seduced of +the officers there; quiet country parsonages gave their quota of girls +educated to feel, and therefore hurrying the faster to their doom, when +once cut off from their families by the devices of their betrayers. One +woman excited Thomas's pity deeply. Though wasted and fast dying, she +still had traces of great beauty when he first met her, leaning wearily +on the parapet of Waterloo Bridge, looking out on the water below. She +flashed defiance--the defiance of a hunted being--at him when he first +spoke to her, but he soon won her heart, and got her story. A fair +blonde, oval-faced English girl, she had been comely to look upon, and +was wholesome at the heart even yet, for all her misery. She was the +victim of a parson, now high in the counsels of the church. The villain +was but a curate when he seduced her--the only child of her mother, and +she a widow. He promised to marry her, of course, and wiled his way to +her heart. Then when he had got all he wanted, and found that she was +with child, he cast her off, daring her to lay the babe to his +paternity, and spreading a story to the effect that he had found other +lovers at her heels. Broken hearted, she buried her head and obeyed, but +the shame killed her mother. "I could not die," the daughter said to +Wanless; "I have often tried to kill myself, but fear keeps me back now, +after all that's past, and it kept me back then. My child died, thank +Heaven! I was alone in the world. I drifted to London seeking work, and +found it hard to get. When I offered myself for a servant's place, +people said I was too well educated, and suspected that something must +be wrong. I could have taught in a school, perhaps, but had no one to +recommend me. I was hungry; I hated mankind, and cursed them. I said I +would betray and destroy men for revenge! and the way was easy! oh, so +easy. It has led me here; and now if I could but jump over and be done +with it all!" + +Involuntarily Thomas put forth his hand to hold her back; but he needed +not to do so. The poor woman sank fainting at his feet. He tried to +rouse her, but could not; and finally put her in a cab and took her to +the hospital. Within a week she died there of brain fever. The doctors +said her strength had been too much reduced by privation before the +disease seized her for her to be able to survive it. And she was only +one among tens of thousands all pressed down the same loathsome course +by our "Christian civilisation." Nay, forgive the epithet, there is +nothing Christian about it. It is only the civilisation of a priest-born +respectableness. The droning hypocrites that we are! + +At times Wanless stood by the doors of low music halls and of theatres, +but the door-keepers usually ordered him off. He looked too like a +detective for their taste. Then he would watch the doors of +confectioners' shops, too--those shops which cloak brothels of the +vilest type--staring there in the face of day, unheeded by the +authorities, who must wink at some kind of outlet for the suppressed +brutal passions of polished society. More than once Adelaide Codling had +crossed his path at such times, and still in the company of Wiseman; but +each succeeding time he saw her, Wanless thought the boldness of her +manner had an increased dash of despair in it. The fate that she had +come after was eating into even her light, giddy heart. The last time he +spied her was one night when he stood close by the door of a café near +Regent Street. The light fell full on her face as the Captain and she +passed in from their cab, and her face was painted. Already, then, the +bloom of youth has vanished, Thomas thought. Her hard but not unmusical +laugh had given place to a grating cackle, and a leer of affected gaiety +had replaced the merry eye. Poor, erring wanderer, and had a few months +brought you to this? Already was the shadow of society's ruthless +judgment upon you; could you even now see the blight of your life, the +dreary street, the hard world's scorn, the early grave? Ah! yes, and who +shall describe the devouring agony that gnawed at that girl's heart? Did +she not see day by day the ebbing away of Wiseman's love? Love? God +forgive me for defiling that sacred word. It was only his brutish +passion that was dying. He was becoming tired of this toy his handling +had smudged, and she saw it all--prepared herself for the hour when he +would turn his back upon her and go to hunt down other prey. And only +six months ago! Ah, parson, parson, has the iron not entered your soul? +What is this that your Christian civilisation has done to your daughter? +Has it made you ashamed even to look for her? Poor, hide-bound, +"respectable" sinner that you are, you shall behold her again, though +you sought her not--though her mother bade you close your heart and home +against her for ever, because she had with that mother's help allowed +herself to be betrayed. + +One cold March night Thomas Wanless had strayed on to Waterloo Bridge in +his coal-begrimed dress. Something, he could not have said what, had +impelled him to go there that night. He had taken a hasty supper at a +coffee-house near the coal yard to save time. He felt he was +"superstitious," yet he went, whispering to his heart "who knows but I +may see my child to-night," and trying to be cheerful. + +Paying the toll at the north side, he wandered backwards and forwards +till the chill from the river began to enter his bones. The one he +looked for came not to him--still he could not drag himself away. He sat +down in a recess and cowered below the parapet for shelter, waiting for +he knew not what. It might have been ten o'clock. He had sat quite an +hour, and was nearly going to sleep with weariness, inaction, and cold, +when a rustle of a woman's dress near him spurred his faculties into +active watchfulness. Peering into the darkness, made visible by the +feeble shimmer of the lamp on the parapet, he discovered a woman +approach him, crouching down in the recess on the other side of the +bridge, weeping bitterly, though almost in silence. Raising himself on +his elbow, he was about to speak to her when she started up with a wild +despairing gesture, and, jumping on the seat, flung away her shawl. + +"Yes," he heard her say to herself, with a wailing resoluteness, "I'll +do it; I'll die," and with one look of farewell to the world, where no +hope was left for her, a look of despair and horror that gleamed through +the darkness, she clutched the parapet and drew herself on to it. + +It was all the work of a moment, a flash of time, but Wanless had sprung +to his feet at the sound of her voice, and was half across the bridge by +the time the woman got upon the parapet. Then he saw her last look, and +the gleam of a neighbouring lamp revealed her features. She was Adelaide +Codling, and the recognition so startled Wanless that he staggered and +for a moment stopped short. In that moment she was lost. Even as the cry +burst from his lips, "Adelaide Codling, Adelaide, Adelaide," she threw +herself over, as if the sight of a man approaching her had given the +last spur to her despair. He reached the parapet but in time to hear the +dull splash of her body in the dark tide rolling beneath. As she felt +the water close round her, a cry--weird, unearthly, terrible,--broke +from the girl's lips, and then all was silent, till the waves threw her +up again on the other side of the bridge, when a hollow, dying wail +wandered over the river--the last farewell of this poor waif of +humanity, sacrificed to the pleasures of the scoundrels who "bear rule" +among us, and call themselves refined. + +Wanless was already at the toll-house, panting and hardly able to speak. +But his look was enough, and presently there arose a shouting to +lightermen and bargemen. Boats were put off by those who had heard the +splash and the cry. A crowd gathered to see. In little more than a +quarter of an hour a shout rose from the water far down towards +Blackfriars, for the tide was running out, and the girl had gone rapidly +down stream. "Saved! saved!" was the cry, and they had, indeed, found +the body of Adelaide Codling. She herself had gone. The cold had killed +her rather than the length of time she had been in the water--the cold +and the shock. + +Thomas waited to hear the result of the doctor's efforts at the police +office, and then saw the body deposited in a neighbouring deadhouse. No +clue to her identification was found upon the body, the poor girl had +taken care of that, more mindful of her friends in death than they of +her living. But Thomas felt bound to tell the police sergeant what he +knew. He gave his own address and that of the Rev. Josiah Codling, but +could not tell where the girl lived, or what had been the immediate +cause of her suicide. The police, seeing that the upper classes were in +question, decided to keep names quiet for the present--but communicated +with the girl's father, and arranged that the inquest should be delayed +for two days to permit him to attend. Thomas himself was told that he +would be summoned as a witness, and then went his way. + +He hardly knew how he got home to his lodgings that night. + +The inquest on the body of Adelaide Codling was held in the upper room +of a low-class public house in Upper Thames Street. Thomas Wanless +obtained liberty to absent himself from work that day, at his own +charges, of course, and punctually at three in the afternoon--the +appointed hour--he entered the parlour of the inn. He was carefully +dressed in the now threadbare and shiny suit of black, which had been +his Sunday costume for many years. + +A small knot of men had gathered in the room, and a desultory kind of +chat was going on when Thomas entered. Two or three were grumbling at +the nuisance of these "coroner's 'quests," which took men away from +their business, the majority were "having something to drink," and all +were utterly indifferent to the business that had brought them there. + +Presently the coroner bustled into the room with his clerk. The latter +hurriedly called over some names, which were answered, and then produced +a greasy-looking volume in leather which he called "the book." This +talisman he put into the hands of the man nearest him, to whom he +mumbled some cabalistic words, at the end of which the book was passed +along and kissed in a foolish sort of way by the chosen twelve. Having +in this manner "constituted the jury," proceedings commenced with a +procession to "view the body," led by the coroner. It lay in a rough +wooden shell coffin, in a dark hole attached to an old city church, and +used as a mortuary. Wanless followed the little crowd in a stunned sort +of way. To his simple, rustic mind it was a dreadful thing that men +should be able to go so carelessly about such a solemn duty. At the +mortuary he was surprised to see the Vicar. The old man stood by his +child's head, gazing at it in a helpless, dazed way, as if hardly +conscious of what it all meant. No emotion was visible on his face, no +tears broke from his eyes when a policeman, softened by the sight, led +him gently away to the inn parlour out of the way of coroner and jury. + +The "viewing" over, the Court returned to the inn to take evidence. Of +that there was very little, beyond the personal testimony of the police, +until Thomas Wanless was called. When his name was mentioned, Thomas saw +the old Vicar start, and for the first time look up with something like +intelligence in his glance, then a scared, shrinking sort of expression +stole across his features, as if he had suddenly thought of home and +cruel village tongues. But he listened quietly to all the old labourer +had to say. It was not much, for a proper-minded coroner would not have +suffered "family secrets" to be too freely exposed, nor had Wanless +himself any desire to tell more than was absolutely needful. + +"I saw the deceased," he said, "climb upon the parapet of Waterloo +Bridge opposite where I sat, and I ran towards her, but before I could +reach her she had gone over. As she prepared to spring she gave one last +look behind her, and I knew her to be our Vicar's daughter. I called her +by name, but it was too late." + +The sad cadence of Thomas's voice, and his obvious superiority of mien, +did not prevent one of the jury from asking him in a brutal tone-- + +"And what were _you_ doing there, my man?" + +"I was looking for my own child," answered the old labourer. "At first +I thought I had found her, till I saw the face." + +"Ah!" ejaculated the coroner. "Had you then----?" but his better impulse +stopped him, and he did not finish the question. Thomas, however, +understood it, and replied at once, almost under his breath-- + +"Yes, your Honour, I have lost a daughter, and Captain Wiseman, the same +ruffian destroyed her that enticed away the Vicar's poor lass now lying +yonder." + +His words sent a shudder through the room, and Thomas was vexed he had +spoken them ere they were well out of his mouth, for they seemed to goad +the Vicar into a state of active terror which gave him energetic +utterance. The more vulgar of the jury pricked up their ears at the +sound of scandal, and one of them said--"Can you give us a clue then as +to how this poor girl came to drown herself?" + +"Oh, for God's sake don't," the Vicar interposed, starting to his feet, +and stretching forth his hand beseechingly towards the labourer; "for +God's sake don't expose it, Wanless." Then he collapsed again, and began +to weep violently, so that Wanless felt sorry for him, and was relieved +when the loud voice of the coroner was heard again ruling that "it was +quite unnecessary to rake up disagreeables." He saw the "aristocracy in +the business," in short, and it pleased him to be strict. Thomas, +therefore, was asked a number of venture questions, whether he knew +where the deceased lived, or whether he was aware of her circumstances, +&c., questions to which he had mostly to answer "No." His examination +was, therefore, soon ended, and the coroner was beginning to tell the +jury that it was a common case, requiring the usual verdict, "Suicide +while in a state," merely, when, to everybody's surprise, the Vicar +intimated that he had a statement to make. + +He rose, trembling visibly, and looked round with a vacant eye till he +caught sight of Wanless, who had fallen back, and was standing near the +door. Then his look changed, and, with something like energy, he +exclaimed--"I wish to ask you, gentlemen, not to believe what that man +says. He has a spite against my family, and against the family at----" +Here he stopped suddenly, afraid to mention the name of his child's +destroyer, and the solemn voice of the peasant was heard saying--"God +forgive you, Josiah Codling," softly, as if to himself. But the Vicar +heard, and his trembling increased so much that when a blunt juryman +interposed with--"How do you account for your daughter's suicide then?" +he could only stammer a feeble--"I'm sure I cannot say." + +"But surely you knew her whereabouts--what she was doing?" + +"N-n-no, I cannot say I did quite. My wife--that is her mother--told me +that she was visiting an aunt in Kent, and I believed it was so." + +"But were there no letters, then? Didn't your daughter write to you at +times?" persisted the juryman, though the coroner began to fidget and +look black. + +"Letters!" repeated the Vicar, as if struck with a new idea; "no, I +believe not. Yes, I think she did write to her mother--to my wife that +is to say. At least I saw the envelope of one letter. I picked it out +of the coal scuttle in the breakfast room, but Adelaide--that is my +daughter--did not write to me--not that I recollect." + +"Humph! I see, 'grey mare the better horse,'" muttered the juryman--a +bluff, not unkindly-looking man, and then there fell a moment of deep +silence on the Court. The Vicar stood, bearing himself up with his hands +on the table before him, and seemed to have more to say. But when after +a brief pause, the impatient Coroner ejaculated--"Well, sir! have you +done?" the Vicar answered--"Y-yes, I think so. I only wished you not to +judge my child hastily," and sat down. + +A few moments more and the jury had given their verdict--"the usual one" +as the coroner described it--a verdict permitting the corpse to have +Christian burial, and all was over. The majority of the jury adjourned +to the bar to refresh themselves, and interchange opinions on, what one +of them called, "this jolly queer case." The bar-keeper himself joined +in the conversation, and Wanless heard him enlarging upon the +corruptions of the "Hupper classes," as he followed the Vicar down +stairs. But there was no danger that comments of this kind would get +into the newspapers. A paragraph about the suicide did, indeed, appear +in several morning journals, but there was no mention of the seducer's +name. Such a thing as an adjournment to obtain Wiseman's evidence was +not even hinted. The coroner, jury, press, and all might have been +bought up by the Wiseman family, so discreet was the silence--and, +perhaps, some of them were. The press, at all events, was well gagged by +an infamous law of libel; and as there had been no sensational or +melodramatic incidents connected with the girl's end, it was easy to +bury all the story in oblivion--for _time_. The "gallant" Captain might +roll serenely on his way. Nothing could disturb him here except disease +and the moral leprosy bred of his crimes. "After death comes the +judgment." + +When the little gathering had dispersed, the Vicar and Thomas Wanless +found themselves alone together. Both had waited to let the unfamiliar +faces disappear. Neither had thought at the moment that this shyness +would bring them face to face. The peasant was the first to realise the +situation, and as he looked at the broken-down old man before him, he +was stirred with pity. On the impulse of the moment he went to where +Codling stood, and laying his hand on his arm, said-- + +"Can I be of any use to you, sir?" + +The Vicar started and turned hastily away, shaking Thomas's hand from +his arm, at the same time answering--"No, no, Thomas Wanless, I have +nothing to say to you. You have done me enough mischief for one day!" + +"I have done you no mischief, sir. God forbid that I should harm you. +Had it been possible I would have saved you this pain,--I would have +rescued your daughter." + +"Rescued my daughter, would you?" and Codling laughed a low, bitter +laugh. "Rescued my daughter! Why cannot you look after your own, Thomas +Wanless? I do not want your help." + +"I watch for my child night and day," said the peasant solemnly. "It was +in seeking her that I met yours--too late. There is ever a prayer in my +heart that when I find my Sally I may not be too late for her also. Ah! +poor Sally!" he sighed, and the Vicar, taking no more notice of him, he +presently added--"Come out of this place, sir. It is not wise for you to +stop here when there is so much yet to be done." + +The Vicar took Wanless's words as insinuating that he wanted to drink, +which was far enough from what Thomas intended. But the guilty are ever +prone to think themselves in danger, and it was with more heat and +energy of manner than he had yet shown that the Vicar turned and faced +his fellow-villager. + +"Go away, you loafing, good-for-nothing fellow," he almost shouted, +"surely you have gratified your revenge sufficiently for one day, +without standing there to mock at my sorrow, as you have already done +your best to make my name a by-word." With that he moved towards the +door. But Thomas stood dumbfounded between him and it, and the Vicar, +too impatient now to wait for the peasant's slow motions, actually gave +him a shove on one side, and hurried outside, muttering to himself as he +went. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +POINTS ONCE MORE TO THE MORAL OF THE POET'S SAYING,--"SWEET ARE THE USES +OF ADVERSITY." + + +When Wanless crept out a minute or two later, still feeling heart-sore +at the Vicar's treatment, he caught sight of that poor wretch through +the adjoining door of the private bar, which opened to let some one out +as he passed by. Codling was standing, and with trembling hand stirring +a large tumbler of hot brandy and water. + +Wanless stopped involuntarily, and then turning back to the bar he had +just left, asked for a glass of ale. It would give him a pretext for +waiting to see what became of the poor parson. In a very short time he +heard Codling's voice beyond the partition ordering another double +glass, and the sound shocked him so much that he put down his glass of +ale half consumed, and, acting on the impulse of the moment, burst in +upon the Vicar through the swing door of the compartment, crying, as he +did so-- + +"For God's sake, don't, Mr. Codling. Leave that, and come away with me. +It's a shame to see a minister of the Gospel drowning his grief in +liquor. Come away at once." And he again laid hold of Codling's arm. + +The drink he had already swallowed had raised the Vicar's courage, and +he turned on Wanless with a look of scornful bitterness that boded a +storm. But Wanless was also wrought to a high pitch, and there was a +commanding sternness in his eye that served to cow the drunkard, whose +wrath seemed to die within him. He looked hesitatingly around, and at +sight of some bystanders grinning, a flush of shame spread over his +face. + +"For shame, I say," Wanless continued in a low tone, paying as little +heed to the angry looks as he had done to the former taunts. "Will you +stand here besotting yourself, and allow your child to be flung into a +pauper's grave?" + +"What business is that of yours?" the Vicar replied sullenly, but in a +low voice. "Mind your own paupers, and let me and my affairs alone." + +"That I will not--cannot do--Mr. Codling," Wanless answered. "Consider, +sir, she was your child. You fondled her on your knee but the other day, +and were proud to hear her lisp the name of father. Come away, sir, for +God's sake, the body may be gone if we waste more time here;" and giving +the Vicar no further chance to remonstrate, Thomas seized his arm, and +dragged him out of the place away to the deadhouse. + +They were indeed barely in time. Some men were about to nail up the +remains of Adelaide in the rough shell where it lay, whether preparatory +to burial, or in order to convey it to some hospital dissecting room, I +would not venture to say. At any rate, a small bribe made them desist, +and one of them even directed the Vicar to find an undertaker if he +wished to give his child Christian burial in other than a pauper's +trench. + +The sight of his daughter's body, when the lid of the case was removed, +and the Vicar saw it again, moved him more than it had done at first. +The men withdrew, and Thomas and he were left alone with it. Adelaide's +features had settled down to the calm stillness of death, and wore a +faint semblance of a smile. Sweet and pure she looked, in spite of the +soiled garments and tangled hair; but the figure indicated only too +clearly what had sent her to a watery grave. She had been about to +become a mother. + +As he looked old memories rose in the Vicar's imagination, and tears +gathered in his dull, sodden eyes. He stooped tremulously and kissed the +cold brow. "Poor Addy, poor Addy," he murmured, "to think that you +should have come to this," and he sobbed outright--weeping like a child. +Like a child too, when the passion was over, he surrendered himself to +the guidance of Wanless, without further resistance, who hurried him off +to the undertaker. He would like, he said, to have _her_ buried that +evening; but that the people said they could not manage; so it was at +last arranged to take her to Highgate Cemetery next morning. Thomas had +then to find a place where the Vicar could pass the night, for the old +man had intended to go home that evening, and ultimately he deposited +him at the Tavistock Hotel. + +"Will you have something to drink before you go?" said the Vicar, when +he had arranged for his bedroom, evidently wanting a pretext for +drinking himself, but Thomas said "No," and went away to eat a frugal +supper in a humble coffee-shop in Drury Lane. + +They buried Adelaide next morning, Thomas again, though with difficulty, +obtaining leave of absence. As soon as he saw Codling, Thomas knew that +he had been drinking hard the previous night. The poor man's hands shook +as with the palsy, his step was unsteady, his eye dull and bloodshot. A +low fever seemed to consume him; yet he obviously felt keenly that +morning the errand he and the labourer were upon, and though he hardly +spoke a word all the way to the grave, he no longer looked at his +companion with sullen anger. Rather he seemed to cling to Thomas as a +woman clings to her natural protector. And when the earth fell on the +coffin lid as the last words of the solemn burial service of the Church +of England were uttered--solemn even when gabbled over by the unhappy +creatures who have to repeat it every day, and all day long--he broke +down again, sobbing and weeping like a child. They waited till the last +sod had been placed over the lost Adelaide, and ere he went away the +Vicar knelt on the damp earth, praying and weeping bitterly. Then he +rose and stretched out his hand to Wanless, whose cheeks were also wet +with tears, as if seeking one to lead him. Thomas grasped it, and +pressed it, with "God bless and have mercy on you, sir, and on her as +lies here." + +"Ah! Thomas"--it was the first time the Vicar had called him kindly as +of old by his Christian name--"ah! Thomas, my friend, and may God bless +you for what you have done this day. But for you I would have deserted +my child in death, as I did in life. God forgive me for it." + +These words seemed to open his heart, so that he talked to Wanless, all +the way back to town, in an eager way, like one who had a confession to +make, and could taste no peace till it was done. A sad history enough it +was of domestic bitterness, of an enfeebled will, knowing what was +right, and doing it not. His impulse was to seek his daughter, just as +Thomas's had been, but Mrs. Codling would not hear of it. Her pride did +not even allow her to admit that the girl had gone away after her +betrayer. She talked of a visit to a relative at a distance, who was her +own step-sister, and of Adelaide herself being ill in Kent, poor +thing--not in any danger, but not strong enough to return yet--with many +lies of a like kind, which the Vicar was weak enough to endorse by his +silence. + +Wanless also spoke of his quest and his sorrow, and the Vicar listened +with sympathy; but when the peasant ventured to urge that it was his +duty to denounce, and expose the ravenous wolf, who had destroyed the +peace of so many families, Codling shook his head and answered--"No, no, +Thomas, I cannot; I dare not. It is too late." + +"Why too late, sir? Are you not a minister of Christ, and bound by the +office you hold to denounce the sinner and his sin?" + +The Vicar shuddered, and sat still for more than a minute without +answering. Then he bent forward and took Thomas's hand--they sat on +opposite sides of the cab. + +"Thomas," he said sadly, "you remember that day of the row in my garden, +between you and--and that fiend in human shape. You called me a poor +tippling creature that day, and it was true." + +"No, no, and I was very sorry," Wanless began-- + +"Yes, but it was," the Vicar interrupted, "I hated you for exposing me +thus; but I felt and knew it was true. I am not a drunkard, Thomas, as +the world measures drunkenness, but I tipple. I keep myself alive by +stimulants, and bury thus my hopes and aspirations of other days. And I +feel that I can do nothing. Who would listen to me or heed my words? Men +would say I spoke from spite, and perhaps some even might aver that I +was myself the cause of my daughter's ruin. Which also," he added, in a +reflective kind of way, "which also might be true. No, no, Thomas, I +must bear my burden. My--oh, my daughter, my child, my pet, when I think +of you and the past, I have no hope--I can do nothing but tipple." + +"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Wanless; but the Vicar relapsed into silence. +All the rest of the way to Paddington, to which he had ordered himself +to be driven, he lay back in the corner of the cab, silent, with his +eyes closed; but Thomas could see him ever and anon furtively wipe away +the tears from his cheeks. + +At Paddington, the two men, now friends again, after so many years of +divergent ways and worldly fortunes, bade each other a sad farewell. +Thomas went back to his coals, and the Vicar went home to his wife and +his gin and water. Yet he was not quite as he had been before. More +than he himself thought the death of his once loved child stirred the +human soul in him, and he was not able again to fall back into +sottishness. Though he bore his domestic woes silently, and still drank +to dull the gnawing at his heart, he became more tender towards the poor +among his flock, more attentive to their wants, more accessible, and +softer in manner towards all men. He even preached with sad pathos that +woke responsive sympathy in the hearts of his flock, though he did not +denounce the ravisher. + +But the best proof of all that he had changed much for the better, is +found in his conduct to Mrs. Wanless. The memory of the help and +sympathy he had received from the old, despised labourer in London, lay +warm in his heart, and found frequent expression in visits to the +labourer's wife while she was alone, or to both husband and wife, when +Wanless came back. The very day after he returned from London, he called +and told Mrs. Wanless that he had seen her husband, and that he was +well. He made no allusion to other matters, but he patted the head of +Sally's child, and sighed as he went away. Perhaps the kindly warmth +with which these simple people always greeted him, helped to soothe his +later years. In giving he received more than he gave. + +In the village the end of his daughter was never rightly known. Wiseman +naturally never breathed a word. Rarely was his face seen in Ashbrook, +and never in the church while the old Vicar lived. Mrs. Codling gave out +that the poor child had been suddenly cut off by fever, and went the +length of donning mourning, bemoaning the loss to her friends, braving +the scorn of all true hearts, and vainly imagining she was believed, But +the people guessed that Adelaide had not died so, and they suspected +that Wiseman was at the bottom of her disappearance, though the story of +her having committed suicide never got general credence in the +village--was only a faint rumour there. So all pitied the poor Vicar, +despised his uppish, false-hearted wife, and most hated the young +squire. Riches and high station cannot shut men out from the moral +results of their deeds, any more than they can ward off death. Nay, Mrs. +Codling herself, high as she held her head, well as she acted the part +of a sorrowing mother who had been heart-broken by the unexpected news +of her dear daughter's sudden death, so prostrated as to be unable to go +and see her laid in her grave--even Mrs. Codling felt in some sense that +this was true. She grew harder in her ways, and more and more haggard in +her looks, like one even at war with herself, and ever losing in the +fight--till within three years God took her, and she knew her folly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +OPENS TO THE INWARD EYE THE CHASTENED JOY THAT GLOWS, WHEN THE LOST ONE +IS FOUND, IN THE SOUL OF HIM "WHOSE GRIEF WAS CALM, WHOSE HOPE WAS +DEAD." + + +A great additional strain had been put upon the spirit of Thomas +Wanless, by the death of Adelaide Codling, and he was becoming too weak +in body to hold to his purpose. There were nights when he returned to +his lonely lodging wishing that he might die, so great was his physical +and mental exhaustion. At other times he felt an impulse strong upon him +to go home--to "abandon his search for a time," as his inward tempter +whispered. But his will was strong, if strength of body or hope might be +weak, and he only prayed the more and clung the more to his purpose, the +more he felt tempted to turn aside. "How could I face her mother again," +he would answer himself, "if I had not found her." + +In this conflict of mind, though not of purpose, another month rolled +by, and Thomas was threatened with want of work. Fewer men were required +in the coal yards as summer came on, and already several had been +discharged. It was a dreary prospect enough, but what made it more so to +Thomas, were the unbidden flashes of almost gladness that rose in his +breast now and then, as the voice of the tempter then said--"Thomas, you +will be forced to go home." He felt himself a traitor, and inexpressibly +wicked at such moments, and would clench his hand and mutter--"Not yet +anyhow, not yet," as he strode mechanically through the streets. + +At last he found her. "When hope was calm, and grief was dead" almost, +he lighted on his lost child unexpectedly, in a place where he would +never have dreamed of looking for her, had it not been for the friendly +advice of the police. + +All over London there are coffee-houses, tobacco-shops, and +confectioner-looking shops, whose real use is to be haunts of vice. +Thomas had learned to know this, and his eye was always upon such as he +wandered through the streets. Perchance he might see his Sally in one of +them some night. He was crawling rather than walking along one of the +dingy lanes behind Leicester Square one evening, about eleven o'clock, +when, through the open door of a low eating-house, he heard the voice of +a woman singing. His heart gave a leap within him. Surely that was +Sally's voice. She had been a great singer in her girlhood, and the song +he heard the notes of had once been a great favourite with her. What was +it, think you? None other than that sweet sentimental ditty, "Be kind to +the loved ones at home." Strange melody to be heard in such a place. + +The leap of hope in Thomas's heart was followed by a thrill of anguish +as he drew near to listen, more assured each moment that here, indeed, +he had found his daughter. And was she thinking of home then--here, at +the gate of hell. He would go and see. No one was in the outer shop, and +the door of the back room stood ajar, so that Thomas walked straight +through unchallenged. Pushing open the half-closed inner door, he paused +in amazement at the scene disclosed to him. There might have been a +score of people in that low-roofed, dingy, smoke-filled room--men and +women seated at small tables, and on one or two dilapidated benches +against the wall, some were busy eating, all had drink before them--ale, +spirits, and even wine--stuff labelled "champagne." Through the haze of +tobacco smoke, he saw several of the women with cigarettes in their +mouths. All had a reckless, more or less debauched air, and the women in +particular struck Thomas--a transitory flash though his glance was--as +wearing a look of defiance towards all that the world deemed propriety. +Men had women on their knees, or sat on the knees of women, and none +seemed to heed the song. One poor outcast woman lay huddled up on the +floor by the fire, too drunk to sit, but not too drunk to blaspheme. No +one heeded her either. + +All these things Thomas saw in the first moment of vision, but he hardly +noted them then. His thoughts and his eyes were for his lost child +alone. The song did not stop at his entrance, for the singer's face was +not towards the door. So the voice guided his eye and--yes, it was she. +There she sat in the middle of the room, nearer the fire than a youthful +debauchee who sat by her with his arm round her waist. Thomas gazed a +moment, and then his whole soul went out in a cry-- + +"Sally, Sally, oh my pet, my child, I've found you at last," and he +advanced towards her, holding out his hands. + +The song died instantly, but in its place rose a Babel of tongues. +Thomas's cry drew all eyes upon him. Involuntarily some of the less +hardened assumed airs of propriety, but the majority of the men started +in anger, and a few of the women began to laugh and jeer. + +"Damn your impudence, what do you want here?" shouted a copper-faced +little wretch, who had been lying half asleep in a woman's lap near the +door. + +"Get out of this," roared another, and as Thomas made no sign the abuse +grew general. The wits of the party cracked jokes over the "heavy father +doing the pathetic business," and so on, but amid the din the peasant +got close to the table, where his child sat. The instant his call +reached her ears, Sally turned a terror-struck gaze upon him, and then +buried her face in her hands. He could see she wept, for the sobs shook +her, but to his further entreaty to come away she made no response, and +he was trying to pull the table aside so as to reach her, when he was +roughly seized by the brothel keeper, who had rushed up from the kitchen +to see what the noise was about. With an oath he pulled Thomas back. + +"What the devil do you want here?" he screeched. "Clear out, or d--n +you, I'll give you in custody." The peasant's garb and appearance had +enabled the experienced scoundrel to guess at once what was up. + +Thomas turned sharp on his assailant, who was a fat, flabby-looking +wretch, whose face indicated a vicious career in every line and pimple. +At the moment it was lit up by an expression of elfish rage. But when +in his turn the peasant seized him with a grip of iron and flung him +away as if he had been a street cur barking at his heels, the man's face +grew nearly pale with an expression of mingled wrath and fear. The fear +kept him near the door, where he stood yelling for help, calling on +"Jim" to come and turn this intruder out, volleying oaths and +blasphemies, and finally beseeching the intruder not to ruin him, but +taking good care all the while not to summon the police. + +"Jim" came at last--the "waiter" or bully of the place. He was of +stronger build than his master, and at once grabbed Thomas by the +collar, purposing to turn him out. But Thomas was endowed with heroic +strength in that hour, and three such men would not have driven him from +the place. Wrenching himself round, he took his new assailant by the +throat, and dashed him back against his master with such force that they +both rolled over in the narrow doorway. This feat tickled the company +immensely, and they fell to clattering with pewter pots and glasses, and +to shouting in derision as encouragement. + +Probably Thomas in the end might have been badly beaten by the fiends +among whom he had fallen, but from that his daughter saved him. Roused, +perhaps, at the sight of the unholy hands laid upon her father, and +sickened by the foul jibes of men and women around her, she sprang to +her feet, and, pushing round the end of the table where she sat, rushed +between the combatants, and flung herself on her father's bosom, in a +passion of weeping. + +"Do not get yourself hurt for me," she sobbed, "go away and leave me. +I'm not worth caring for any more." + +Thomas answered by clasping her closer to his bosom, and then putting +his arm in hers, he led her from the house, none daring to say him nay. +Oaths, shrieks of hysterical laughter, and obscenities followed them as +they went, but the look on the peasant's face, and the remembrance of +his strength of arm, were enough to protect his daughter and him from +further ill-usage. + +"Thanks be to God I've found ye, my lass; found ye, never to let ye out +o' my sight again in this world," Thomas murmured when he found himself +alone in the street with his long-lost one, and there welled up in him a +holy joy which was unutterable. + +His daughter hung her head, and answered not, but she suffered him to +lead her to his lodging. A 'bus took them to the head of Portland Road, +and thence they walked. It was past midnight before they got home, and +all the house was silent; but Thomas gave his daughter his bedroom, and +groped his way to the parlour, where he hoped to get a sleep in an easy +chair--first prudently turning the key in Sarah's door, to give her no +room for untimely repentance. + +There was no sleep for his eyelids that night. The cold alone might have +kept him awake in any case; but he was too excited to feel it as other +than a stimulus to his thoughts. Past and future rolled before him--his +daughter lost, joy at her discovery, pain at the life she had led. The +grey dawn found him fevered with his thoughts, shivering in body, +burning at the heart. Nevertheless, he had resolved to go home that day +by the early train; and with that view he roused the landlady to beg an +early breakfast for himself and his child. "I have found my lass," was +all he ventured to explain, and the woman answered she was glad to hear +it. In his eagerness to go home he forgot to tell the coal agent for +whom he worked, and forgot also to draw four days' wages due to him--did +not remember till the day after he and his daughter reached Ashbrook. + +When Sarah, in answer to her father's summons, came down to breakfast in +the front kitchen, it was easy to see that she also had slept little. +Her eyes were swollen and red, and she could not eat anything. A cup of +hot tea she swallowed, and that was all. Her father spoke to her in the +old familiar Warwickshire dialect, and urged her to "eat summat, as she +had a long day's journey afoore her," but Sally could not, and to all he +spoke answered only in monosyllables. Not until he began to talk +directly of going "home" did she wake to anything like animation. The +very sound of the word made her weep, and her father led her away to his +own room to reason with her. + +"Oh, don't ask me to go back," she cried; "I cannot, I cannot; I'm fit +only to die." + +But her father soothed her, talked to her of her lonely mother watching +for her coming, praying to see her child's face again before she died; +and when that did not move her, he bade her think of her little babe she +had left last year. "How could ye like her to grow up a-lookin' for a +mother, Sally, lass, an' not findin' one?" That seemed to touch her +more than all his assurances that no one would ever reproach her or cry +shame upon her in her own father's house. Still she yielded not, but +cried out that she was lost to them all, to every good in this world. +"You might not blame me openly," she said, "but I would have the feelin' +in my heart all the time that I was a shame an' disgrace to you, and +that pity alone kept you from telling me so. No, no, no, I will not go +back to Ashbrook." + +"Look here, then, Sally," said her father at last, "if you wonnot go +back, I'll stay by you. My mind's made up. I'll never lose sight of ye +again, not while I'm alive; and if you wonnot go home wi' me, I must +bide wi' you. There is no other way. It will kill your mother, and it +will kill me, an' leave your child an outcast orphan, but ye are +determined, an' it must e'en be so." + +This staggered her, but still she yielded not, thinking, doubtless, that +her father meant not what he said, till at last, in despair, he told her +the story of Adelaide Codling. He spoke of her despairing looks, her +rapid descent from wild gaiety to death, of her last farewell to this +world, of her lonely grave, and her poor, old, broken-hearted father, +and wound up by asking--"Will you face an end like that, Sally? Dare you +do it, my child? When I saw her jump on the bridge I thought it was +you," he added, with a look that went straight to his daughter's heart. +The story had at first been listened to in dogged silence. Then the +girl's tears began to flow, at first silently, at last with convulsive +sobs. Her father held out his hand as he ceased speaking, and she, moved +so deeply as to be lifted out of herself, laid both her hands in his, +and said-- + +"Father, I'll do as ye wish. I'll go home wi' ye." He drew her down on +her knees beside him, and prayed fervently for mercy and forgiveness for +them both. "But my heart was too full to beg," he afterwards said to me. +"I could only give God thanks for his infinite mercy in restoring my +lost child." + +They missed the morning train, and had to wait till the evening. In the +interval Sarah had stripped off the tawdry ornaments she wore, and +plucked a gaudy feather from her hat--pleasant incidents which her +father noted. In the middle of the night almost they reached the old +cottage in Ashbrook, and both were glad that the darkness hid them from +every eye save God's. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +MAINTAINS THAT FOR THE WRONG SIN-BURDENED MORTAL NO SLEEP IS SO SWEET AS +THE LAST LONG SLEEP OF ALL. + + +There was deep joy in Mrs. Thomas Wanless's cottage that night--joy all +the deeper for the pain that lay beneath it. Mrs. Wanless was not a +demonstrative woman at any time, but that night she embraced her +daughter again and again, and held her to her heart with passionate +eagerness. Sarah was sad, and after the first momentary flash of +delight, shrank back within herself. She went and looked at her child +sleeping quietly in its grandmother's bed, but did not kiss or caress +it. The joy of the parents was dimmed at sight of this indifference, but +when Sarah had retired to rest, Thomas did his best to encourage his +wife to hope. "It will soon be all right between mother and child," he +prophesied, and this no doubt was their hope. It was long, however, ere +they saw any fulfilment of it. In truth, shame took so deep a hold on +Sarah's mind that she became a sort of terror to herself. She was so +crushed by the past, so utterly incapable of rising out of the darkness +that shrouded her mind, that it is probable she would again have fled +from her father's roof had she not been prevented by illness. The life +of false excitement she had led in London had sapped her constitution, +and she had not long returned when her health began to give way. Fits of +shivering seized her, then a hacking, dry cough, which could not be +dislodged. Her complexion grew transparent, her eye preternaturally +bright. She was, in a word, falling into consumption, and in all +probability would not live long to endure her misery. This was doubtless +the kindest fate that could now befall her, but it was a new grief to +her parents when they awoke to consciousness of the fact that this lost +one, so lately found again, was slowly vanishing from their sight for +ever. + +She herself grew happier in the prospect of early death, and from being +silent and cold became gentle, opener in her manner, and more kindly to +all around her, as if striving by her tender care of her child and her +grateful affection for her parents to make the last days of her life on +earth a sweet memory. After a time, too, as she became weaker, her heart +moved her to talk of the past, and she bit by bit told her mother the +story of her flight and her life in the great city. The sum of it all +was misery, an agony of soul unspeakable, from which she ultimately +found no escape save in drink. Her own motive in running away after +Adelaide Codling was not very clear even to herself. Some vague idea of +finding that other victim, and of rescuing her from the doom that she +herself was stricken by, she had, but the governing motives were shame +and pride. Once in the gate of Hell, which London is to tens of +thousands every year, she tried to get access to Captain Wiseman, and +haunted the entrance of his barracks for a week, but he came not. She +did see him at a distance two or three times afterwards, but women such +as she was now dared not approach so great a person in the open streets +by day. With more persistence she sought for Adelaide Codling, but with +no better success. The only occasion when she got near enough to speak +to that poor girl was one day that they met by a shop door in Regent +Street. Adelaide came forth gorgeously dressed, and carrying her head +high just as Sarah passed. They recognised each other, and Sarah stopped +to speak, but the other turned away her head with a toss like her +mother's, and hurried off. + +Soon the peasant's daughter had to abandon all thoughts of others, and +face hunger for herself. Her money and trinkets found her in food and +lodgings but for a few short days, and then she, having obtained no +situation, had to leave the servants' home where she had at first found +refuge, and--either starve or take to the streets. Her sin had branded +her; she had no "references," and no hope. Had courage only been given +her she would have died, but she dared not. It seemed easier to go forth +to the streets. The raging "social evil" that mocks in every +thoroughfare Christianity and the serene, tithe-sustained worshipping +machinery of the State, offered her a refuge. There she could welter and +rot if she pleased, fulfilling the excellent economy of life provided +for us in these islands. The army composing this evil only musters some +100,000 in London, and is something altogether outside the pale of +established and other Christian institutions. + +That summer and winter when the lost Sarah faded away and died was a +hard time for Thomas Wanless and his wife. Work was precarious, and +thus, added to the pain of seeing their child fade away, was the bitter +sense of inability to do all that was possible to prolong her life. +Nearly all the labourer's savings had disappeared during Thomas's long +quest. But they struggled on, complaining to none but God, nor did their +trials break their trust in His help. They felt that the kindness with +which all friends and neighbours treated them in their sorrow was a +proof that the Divine Father of all had not forgotten them. And their +daughter herself became a consolation to their grief-worn spirits. A +sweet resignation took possession of her mind as she neared the end. The +passions of life died away, and the clouds that had hidden her soul for +the most part disappeared. Her parents might dream for moments, when her +cheeks looked brighter than usual, that she would recover, but she +herself knew that death was near, and thanked God. + +During this time the Vicar--poor old man--came oftener than ever to the +labourer's cottage. He could not be said to assert himself against his +wife in doing so, for he came as if by a power stronger than his own +wrecked will. When he was seated by the labourer's fireside, he seemed +to be at peace. Often for an hour at a time he hardly spoke, but just +sat still and looked with a sad kindliness, pathetic to behold, on the +wasting form before him, and either stroked her hand held in his own, or +gently patting the golden head of the little lass that now began to +toddle to his knee. And when the visit was over, the cloud settled down +upon him again. He went forth dejected, a hopeless-looking being, and +crawled helplessly back to the Vicarage. He called on the morning of +Sarah's death. She sank gently to rest on a raw February morning nearly +eight months after her return, and within a week of her twenty-first +birthday. When Mr. Codling was told, he stood for a moment as if dazed, +and then asked to be led to Sarah's bedside. There he stood, gazing +long, with bent head, till the tears rose and blinded him. With them the +higher emotions of his soul welled up within him, and he turned and took +the hand of Wanless, who stood by his side. + +"Thomas, my friend," he said, "I envy your daughter that rest. I, too, +long to be as she is. Life has become all a waste desert to me; oh, so +dreary, dreary." Then, after a pause, he went on--"And I envy you, +Thomas, for have you not cause to rejoice that Sarah has died in her +father's house forgiven? Had it been but so with my Adelaide; oh, had it +been but so, I think--I--hope would not have been lost to me. But I wish +I were dead--yes, dead and forgotten," and, letting go the hand he had +held, he knelt down by the bedside, buried his face, and wept as he had +wept only by his daughter's grave. + +Unhappy old man. Who shall judge him; who say that the All-pitying had +not forgiven? Calming himself presently, the aged Vicar rose to his +feet, and looked again on the dead face, so different in its white +purity and smile of peace from the one he had looked on in London. He +bent and kissed it, and then suffered the grief-worn but calm old +labourer to lead him quietly away. "God bless you and comfort you, sir, +and give you His peace," was all that Thomas trusted himself to utter; +but sorrow had made these men brothers indeed. + +Although Thomas and his wife knew in their hearts that Heaven had been +merciful to their child and to themselves in taking her away, their +sorrow was nevertheless keen. Nay, in some senses it was keener, because +the "might have been" rose before the mind. Here was in truth a waif--a +lost one--mercifully removed from further sorrow, but had there been no +wreck, how short would her life have seemed, how sad its early close. In +Wanless's life, therefore, few days were darker than the day on which he +laid Sarah to rest beside the long-lost little ones in the old +churchyard. It was little consolation to him that half the village +gathered reverently to the funeral, and yet as he thought of the other +grave by which he had stood not many months before, his spirit was +somehow soothed. The contrast must have struck the Vicar likewise, but +he made no sign. He insisted, however, on reading the burial service +himself, in spite of the remonstrances of his young curate, who usually +did this work. Bareheaded and trembling, pale, and feeble looking, with +his white thin hair fluttering in the icy breeze, the sight of their old +pastor that day drew tears to many eyes. His tremulous voice seemed more +solemn to the listeners that day than ever before, and they loved and +pitied the frail old man. More than one villager remarked to his +neighbour as they left the grave that he "did not think Mr. Codling +would be long in following Sally Wanless." + +It was in truth to be so. The Vicar did not live long after, but his was +not the next burial. Before he went--months before--old Squire Wiseman +died and was buried in the family vault, with the pomp and circumstance +that became his station. No one sorrowed at his death, but the lack of +grief was hidden by the abundance of display. All the army of underlings +were put in mourning at the new squire's expense. Cecil was now lord of +the Grange, and one of his first steps was to make it too hot a place +for his mother, by filling it with debased men and women--titled +fledglings and their harpies, horsey men, and sharpers. The wealthy +marriage his mother had sought for him never came off. An Irish peer, +needy as Wiseman, but with a more marketable commodity in the shape of +his title, had swooped down and carried off the prize. The carpet or +"turf" soldier consequently came to his inheritance buried in debt, but +that seemed to make him only the more extravagant. His true place was +the gutter, but the land was entailed, tenants were squeezable, and +though hard up, the new squire floundered on, cursing and a curse. + +His debts should have ruined him, but they merely ruined his tenants, +impoverished the land, and made those driven to depend on him as +beggarly as their master. The weight of this rottenness lay heaviest of +all on the labouring poor, who stood undermost in the social scale. Poor +farmers meant less labour, badly tilled soil, reduced wages, and the +hinds became a picture of misery. All Ashbrook parish suffered for the +sins of this sprig of the aristocracy. What of that! Are the sacred, +priest-sanctioned, bishop-blessed rights of property to be interfered +with because the people want bread? That would be contrary to all law +and order, as established by these delicate perverters of the Hebrew +Scriptures. + +No; better far let the people starve; let the mortgages squeeze those +who do not own; make the fair earth bestowed on man--to be cultivated, +tended, and rendered fruitful--a waste howling desert, peopled by wild +animals, for whose shooting, wealthy pelf-rakers from the centres of +trade are ready to pay high rents. Next to our heaven-bestowed Poor Law, +the Law of Entail, which binds the land to a name or a family, has been +the greatest factor for evil in the national life of England. It has +preserved our "institutions;" gives continuity to our history, men +assert. Perish the people then, but hold fast to this sheet anchor. "It +preserves scoundrels from justice, and the fate they have earned," by +reformers. What of that? These men have the right to be abominable--you +and I, the workers and the sweaters, the privilege only to bear their +abominations. + +It has always struck me, though, that the fetish machinery of the +English Establishment is imperfect in one particular. While in actual +fact all "lord" bishops, and most preachers therein, determinedly oppose +whatsoever would emancipate the people from their bondage, the best of +them never daring to strike boldly at the root of the evils that +threaten England with extinction, that fill the land with misery, that +huddle the bulk of our population into the fever dens of her cities--it +has struck me, I say, that their liturgy is incomplete, almost +hypocritical. A prayer like this should be inserted among the collects +of the day, instead, say, of the collect for peace, which comes so ill +from the lips of men whose ambition is usually to train some of their +children as licensed men-slayers. Let the lawn-sleeved "lord" bishops +look to it, then, and take this hint:-- + +"Sanctify might, O Lord, against right, and make it stronger and +stronger. Bless iniquities in high places, and cause the hypocrisy of +princes to be exalted in the eyes of the people. Protect the nobility +and gentry in their harlotry, and let holiness be measured by the +fineness of the garments. Grind the poor in their poverty, and cause +them to pay that they owe not. And O Lord, we beseech Thee, suffer not +the oppressed to have justice, lest they rise up against us and refuse +to give us the tithes we have filched from the indignant. These things +do, O Lord, and our lips shall praise Thee." + +If you will honestly pray thus, serene "lord" bishops, much-wrangling, +gorgeously-embroidered deans, vicars, and incumbents, you will earn the +respect of honest men. Whatever you do, I beseech you go not on as you +do now, lest the people should one day _act_. They think not a little +even now. + +Fare ye well, then, Cecil Wiseman, sham soldier, horse racer, +blasphemer, drunkard, seducer, sot, farewell! The upper world "society" +protects you, the Church shields you, nay, the priest must e'en bow when +you abduct his daughter, and the very Jews themselves, wholesome scourge +of your class though they be, cannot utterly ruin you--here. Go your +ways--I leave you to God. What witness, think you, will that diseased +body, that bloated face and hang-dog look of yours, bear against you in +the judgment? In that day your very victims may pity you. + +And has not the judgment already come on your mother--cast out, +despised, lonely, poor as she is? Alone, she lives in her little +jointure house at Kenilworth, white-haired, feeble, full of bitterness +of spirit. All the glory of her life has gone. The meanest servant in +Warwickshire may look down on her with commiseration. Your sins have +torn what heart she had, and she begins to awake to the fact that the +law of compensation, the dim foretaste of divine justice, can reach even +such as she. To her likewise let us bid adieu. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +BRINGS US ALL TO THE JOURNEY'S END. + + +The closing years of Thomas Wanless's life were years of peace. His +strength never came back to him after his daughter's death. Indeed, all +the summer that followed it he was beaten down by his old complaint +rheumatism, but there was no dread of the workhouse and the pauper's +grave upon him now. His boy, Thomas the younger, was prospering in the +New World, where landlordism had not yet grown a curse, and insisted on +sharing his modest wealth with his parents. Had the old man been well he +would probably have sturdily refused this help, but as things were he +bowed his head and took what God had given, thankful to his son, +thankful to Heaven, and rejoicing above all things that his boy--his +three children that remained--were delivered from the life that he +himself had led. But what would his end have been save for this +assistance? Assuredly a pauper's. Nothing could have saved him from that +fate. The doom of the labourer is written. It is part of the recognised +glory of the English constitution that he shall die in misery as he +lives; that if he becomes disabled, his shall be the pauper's dole. + +The prosperity of young Thomas rendered Thomas and his wife less +reluctant to let their other children go to Australia. They clung to +them, of course, and would have fain kept them, as it were, within +sight. + +Old Mrs. Wanless was heart-broken at the thought of losing Jane, but she +bore her sorrow and made no complaint, when her husband, his own heart +torn with grief, said--"Let the lass go. There is hope for her and her +husband yonder. Here there is none." Jane therefore married her young +gardener in the autumn of the year of Sarah's death, and went away to +join young Thomas in Victoria. And the soldier-boy, Jacob, went with +them. His time of soldiering was not ended, but his brother Thomas +bought him off, and assisted them all to go to the new country. Jacob +was the labourer's prodigal son, and was loved accordingly. While he +soldiered his parents hardly ever saw him, but he spent a couple of +weeks at home before setting sail for Australia; and then the strength +of his nature, its likeness to that of his father, and the trials he had +endured, brought the old man and him very near to each other. Thus the +wrench of parting was keenest for old Thomas in his case, because the +joy had been but a flash of light in a dark existence. + +"I will never see your face again," the old man said to his children the +last Sunday evening they passed together. "To your mother and me this +parting will be bitterer than death, because you will live, and we will +never hear your voices nor see you more in this world." + +"Oh, father, do not say that," sobbed Jane; "you and mother will come +out to Australia to us, and we'll all live together and be so happy." + +"No, my dear, that will never be. Mother and me are too old to move now. +We will stay behind and pray for you. The time will not be long, and we +have hope. Be brave, my children, and be God-fearing, and, I doubt not, +we shall meet in a better world than this." + +In this spirit they parted, and henceforth old Thomas Wanless and his +wife were left alone with only the little child that Sarah had +bequeathed to them--alone, but not miserable. As the keen edge of sorrow +blunted, the old people went about the daily avocations as before, +serene in appearance, if often sad in spirit. Thomas never worked again +as he had been doing before he went to London, but he became strong +enough to tend his garden and his allotment carefully, and to do +frequent light jobs for the Scotch tenant of Whitbury farm, whose friend +he became. He was thus living almost up to the time when I first made +his acquaintance. + +Then, as his strength of body failed, his mind, as it seemed to me, grew +keener, broader, and more penetrating. He read much, and watched with +close interest the ebb and flow of home politics, looking ever for the +dawn of a better day for the tillers of the soil. When the Warwickshire +labourers broke out in assertion of their right to live, he hailed the +event as an omen of better times. Too wise a man to be carried away by +the notion that single-handed the unlettered, miserable poor could turn +the world upside down, he nevertheless viewed these stirrings among the +dry bones as the beginning of great changes. "I shall not live to see +the land in the hands of those who till it," he would say, "but I can +die in hope now. England will after all be free, and the people will +have their own again. Thank God." + +This belief cheered his last years, and added to the joy of his death. +He died in peace with all men, long indeed, ere his hopes for his +fellow-men had seen fruition, but to the last he declared that it was +coming, that blessed revolution when State Churches should be no more, +and squires, and fox-hunters, and game preservers, and all the social +abominations that ground the poor to the dust would be shaken off and +left far behind in the progress of the nation. + +Three years have come and gone since I stood by the side of Thomas +Wanless's eldest son at his death-bed, and by his grave. He almost died +of the joy he felt at seeing that son once more, when he had given him +to God as one gives the dead. A paralytic stroke seized him within a few +hours of young Thomas's arrival, and he never fully recovered his +faculties. Within a fortnight a second stroke carried him off, and all +the village mourned. His son and I, surrounded by many mourners, laid +him to rest in the old churchyard beside his children, among his +forgotten forefathers. There now, to be equally forgotten, lay squire, +and parson, and parson's wife, all peacefully sleeping, life's fever +over, its jealousies and petty dignities laid aside for evermore. + +And Mrs. Wanless waits still, attended by her grandchild, young Sarah, +now a bright, intelligent, well-educated young woman. When her +grandmother joins Thomas in the last rest of all, she will be taken +across the ocean to these warm-hearted friends far away, and then the +old land will never more see aught of this sturdy peasant stock. But +our statesmen think it a blessing they should go. + + +THE END. + + + + +Transcriber's Notes + +Obvious punctuation errors repaired. + +Hyphen added: "ditch[-]cutting" (p. 49), "broken[-]hearted" (p. 72), +"well[-]nigh" (p. 171). + +Hyphen removed: "house[-]wife" (p. 15), "ear[-]shot" (p. 58), +"dumb[-]founded" (p. 62), "common[-]place" (p. 120), "now[-]a[-]days" +(p. 194), "man[-]kind" (p. 197), "dead[-]house" (p. 210), "out[-]cast" +(p. 219). + +p. 2: "tatooed" changed to "tattooed" (our tattooed ancestors)> + +p. 27: "enthusiam" changed to "enthusiasm" (the feverish enthusiasm of +inexperience). + +p. 27: "portentiously" changed to "portentously" (shook their heads +portentously). + +p. 34: "meeeting" changed to "meeting" (the meeting was to be held). + +p. 35: "wizzened" changed to "wizened" (Grey wizened faces). + +p. 41: "diarymaid" changed to "dairymaid" (the dairymaid will marry). + +p. 59: "famalies" changed to "families" (the pleasure their families +would have). + +p. 85: "of of" changed to "of" (sobriquet of Methody Tom). + +p. 91: "upheavel" changed to "upheaval" (that curious upheaval). + +p. 96: "possibilites" changed to "possibilities" (did not consider these +possibilities). + +p. 100: "Calvanistic" changed to "Calvinistic". + +p. 136: "opportunites" changed to "opportunities" (contrived that his +opportunities). + +p. 139: "exited" changed to "excited" (her beauty excited envy). + +p. 144: "Mrs. Wanlass" changed to "Mrs. Wanless". + +p. 179: "thought" changed to "though" (weary though the old woman was). + +p. 181: "charing" changed to "charring" (to go out charring). + +p. 188: "ricketty" changed to "rickety" (rickety, filthy, old tenement). + +p. 193: "Dury Lane" changed to "Drury Lane". + +p. 203: "Waterleo Bridge" changed to "Waterloo Bridge". + +p. 203: "mein" changed to "mien" (his obvious superiority of mien). + +p. 220: "deil" changed to "devil" and "screached" changed to "screeched" +("What the devil do you want here?" he screeched). + +p. 224: "desparing" changed to "despairing" (her despairing looks). + +p. 237: "Jone" changed to "Jane". + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Life of Thomas Wanless, Peasant, by +Alexander Johnstone Wilson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF THOMAS WANLESS *** + +***** This file should be named 38136-8.txt or 38136-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/1/3/38136/ + +Produced by Moti Ben-Ari and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Life of Thomas Wanless, Peasant + +Author: Alexander Johnstone Wilson + +Release Date: November 25, 2011 [EBook #38136] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF THOMAS WANLESS *** + + + + +Produced by Moti Ben-Ari and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h1>THE LIFE OF THOMAS WANLESS, PEASANT.</h1> + +<div class="center"> +Manchester:<br /> +JOHN DALE, 296 & 298, STRETFORD ROAD.<br /> +ABEL HEYWOOD & SON, 56 & 58, OLDHAM STREET.<br /> +<br /> +London:<br /> +SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO., STATIONERS' HALL COURT. +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<div class="center"> +INDEX.<br /> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="8" cellspacing="1" summary=""> +<tr><td align="right">CHAP.</td><td align="left"> </td><td align="right">PAGE.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> </td><td align="left">INTRODUCTORY,</td><td align="right">1</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">I.</td><td align="left">A HELOT'S NURTURE,</td><td align="right">11</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II.</td><td align="left">A PHILANTHROPIC PARSON,</td><td align="right">24</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III.</td><td align="left">THE "ALLOTMENT" CURE FOR HUNGER,</td><td align="right">31</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV.</td><td align="left">MANUFACTURING CRIMINALS,</td><td align="right">48</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V.</td><td align="left">JAIL LIFE,</td><td align="right">69</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI.</td><td align="left">NATURE OF A SERMON,</td><td align="right">85</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII.</td><td align="left">MEN FOR A STANDING ARMY,</td><td align="right">96</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII.</td><td align="left">VERY ARISTOCRATIC COMPANY,</td><td align="right">115</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX.</td><td align="left">AN OLD, OLD STORY,</td><td align="right">123</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X.</td><td align="left">THE PARSONAGE,</td><td align="right">131</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI.</td><td align="left">A MERE PEASANT MAIDEN,</td><td align="right">139</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XII.</td><td align="left">HIGH AND LOW BREEDING,</td><td align="right">150</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIII.</td><td align="left">PREACHERS OF "WORDS",</td><td align="right">157</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIV.</td><td align="left">"CHRISTIAN" RESPECTABILITY,</td><td align="right">166</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XV.</td><td align="left">TOO BAD FOR DESCRIPTION,</td><td align="right">179</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVI.</td><td align="left">A BETTER QUEST,</td><td align="right">186</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVII.</td><td align="left">NOTHING THAT IS NEW,</td><td align="right">195</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVIII.</td><td align="left">SWEET ARE THE USES OF ADVERSITY,</td><td align="right">209</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIX.</td><td align="left">THE LOST ONE IS FOUND,</td><td align="right">217</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XX.</td><td align="left">THE LAST LONG SLEEP OF ALL,</td><td align="right">226</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXI.</td><td align="left">THE JOURNEY'S END,</td><td align="right">236</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + +<h2> +THE LIFE OF<br /> +THOMAS WANLESS,<br /> +PEASANT.<br /><br /> +</h2> + +<h3>INTRODUCTORY.</h3> + +<p>Some years ago it was my habit to spend the long +vacation in a quiet Warwickshire village, not far from +the fashionable town of Leamington. I chose this spot +for its sweet peace and its withdrawnness; for the opportunities +it gave me of wandering along the beautiful +tree-shaded country lanes; for its nearness to such +historical spots as Warwick, Kenilworth, and Stratford-on-Avon, +to all of which I could either walk or ride in a +morning. But I love a quiet village for its own sake +above most things, and would rather spend my leisure +amongst its simple cottage folk, take my rest on the +bench at the village alehouse door, and walk amid the +smock-frocked peasantry to the grey village church, than +mingle with the fashionable, over-dressed, prurient, +hollow-hearted, and artificial products of civilisation that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>constitute themselves society—yea a thousand-fold +rather. To me the restfulness of a little village, with its +cots nestling among the drowsy trees in a warm summer +day, is a foreshadowing of the rest of heaven. So I +settled myself in little Ashbrook, in a room sweet and +cool, of its little inn, and laughed at the foolish creatures +who, with weary, purposeless steps trode daily the +Leamington Parade with hearts full of all envy and +jealousy at sight of such other descendants of our tattooed +ancestors as fortune might enable to gaud their bodies +more lavishly than they. These droned their idle life +away flirting, reading the skim-milk, often unwholesome, +literature of the fashionable library; jabbering about +dress, and picking characters to pieces; shooting in the +gardens at archery meetings; patronising religious shows +and thinking it refinement. And I? I wander forth +alone, filling my sketch-book with whatsoever takes my +fancy, or, in sociable moods, drink my ale in rustic +company, talking of hard winters and low wages, the +difficulty of living, of rural incidents, and the joys and +sorrows of those toilers by whose hard labour the few are +made rich. They are not faultless, these rustics, but they +are very human, and their vices are unsophisticated +vices—the art of gilding iniquity, of luxuriously tricking +out a frivolous existence in the most subtle conceits of +dress and demeanour, has not yet reached them. When +they sin they do not sublimise their sins into the little +peccadilloes and amusements incident to civilisation. So +I love them; marred and crooked and dull-witted though +they may be, they suit my humour, and fall in with my +tastes for the open air, the free expanse of landscape, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +grand old trees, and the verdure-clothed banks of the +sleepy streams.</p> + +<p>It was in this village that I met my peasant. He was +not a man easy to pick acquaintance with, for he mingled +little among the gossips of the place. Never once did I see +him at the village inn or in church. He lived apart in a little +cottage near the Warwick end of the village, with his +wife and a little lass of ten or eleven summers—his +granddaughter. I often met him in the early morning +going to market with his baskets of vegetables, or in the +cool of the evening, when he would go out with his little +girl skipping and dancing by his side. And the very +first time I saw him he awakened in me a strong interest. +There was something striking in his aspect—a still calm +was on his face, and at the same time a hardness lay +about the mouth, and in the wrinkles around the eyes, +which was almost repellant. His figure had been above +the middle height; and although now bent and gaunt-looking, +had still an aspect of calm energy and decayed +strength. But what struck me most was the grand, +almost majestic outline of his profile, and the keenness of +his yet undimmed eye, which flashed from beneath grey +shaggy eyebrows with a light that entered one's soul. +The face was thoroughly English in type, with features +singularly regular, the forehead broad, the nose aquiline, +the chin large; and still in old age round and clean and +full, though the cheeks had fallen in and the mouth had +become drawn and hard. Had one met this man in +"society," dressed in correct evening costume, surrounded +by courtly dames in half-dress, one would have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +struck by the individuality of that grand, grey face. +Meanly clad, bent, and leaning on a common oaken staff, +the face and figure of this old peasant were such as once +looked at could not be easily forgotten. This also was +a man with a soul in him; ay, and with a heart too; for +does not his eye rest with an inexpressibly sad tenderness +on the slim girl by his side when she interrupts his +reverie with the eager query, "Grand-dad, grand-dad! +Oh look at this poor dead bird in the path; who could +have killed it?"</p> + +<p>My interest in this solitary man was keenly roused; +and, from the inquiries I made, I learned enough of his +history to make me anxious to know him. But that was +not a desire easily gratified. Although always courteous +in returning my "good evening," he did so with an air +that forbade conversation, and gave me back but +monosyllables to any remarks I might make about the +weather, the crops, or the child. He was not rude, only +reserved and dry, and that not with me only. To nearly +all the villagers his manner was the same. Only two +may be said to have been frequenters of his house, the +old schoolmaster and the sexton. Even his wife had +few or no gossips. Yet everyone seemed to respect him, +and many spoke of him with a kind of friendly pity. +Whether or not the respect was partly due to the fact +that the old man was supposed to have means—that is, +that although no longer able to do more than cultivate +his little garden and allotment patch, he was yet not on +the parish—I cannot say, but it was clear that the kindliness +at least was genuine. And so no one intruded on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +him. All saluted him respectfully and left him to +himself, save perhaps when one of the village milk +dealers might give him a lift on his way to market. +Sometimes on a warm evening I have seen him seated +at his cottage door with a newspaper on his knee, +smoking his evening pipe, and answering the greetings +of passers by. But except his two old friends, and +perhaps some village children playing with his little one, +there was no gathering of neighbours; no gossips leant +over his fence to discuss village scandals and local +politics. He was a man apart; and thus it happened +that my first holiday in the village passed away leaving +me still a stranger to old Thomas Wanless.</p> + +<p>But for an accident we might have been strangers still, +and I would not have troubled the world with this old +peasant's history. I was walking home one morning +from Leamington, whither I had gone to buy some fresh +colours and a sketch-book, when I heard in a hollow +behind me a vehicle of some sort coming along the road +at a great pace. Almost immediately a dog-cart driven +tandem overtook and passed me. It contained a stout, +rather blotched-looking man, who might be any age from +thirty-five to fifty, and a groom. Just beyond the road +took rather a sharp turn to the right, dipping into +another hollow, and the dog-cart had hardly disappeared +round the corner when I heard a shrill scream of pain, +followed by oaths, loud and deep, uttered in a harsh, +metallic, but husky voice. I ran forward and immediately +came upon Thomas Wanless's little girl lying +moaning in the road, white and unable to move, grasping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +a bunch of wild flowers in one hand. Half-a-crown lay +amongst the dust near her, and the dog-cart was dashing +over the crest of the further slope, apparently on its way +to the Grange. Without pausing to think, but cursing +the while the heartlessness of those who seemed to think +half-a-crown compensation enough for the injury done to +this little one, I flung my parcel over the hedge, and +gathering the half-fainting child as gently as I could in my +arms, hurried with her to her grandfather's cottage. It +was a good half-mile walk, partly through the village. +The child was heavy, and I arrived hot and out of breath, +followed by several matrons who had caught sight of me +as I passed by, and who stood round the door with anxious +faces. A milkman's cart met me on the way, and I +begged its occupant to drive with all speed to Warwick +for a surgeon, as the child had been run over. The man +answered yes, and went.</p> + +<p>When I burst into Thomas's house he was dozing in +his armchair, but the noise woke him and brought his +wife in from the garden. "Oh, my God," cried Thomas, +as he caught sight of the child; and he tried to rise, but +sank again into his seat pale as death, and trembling all +over. His wife burst into tears, but immediately swept +an old couch clear of some clothes and child's playthings, +and there I laid poor Sally, as the old woman called her, +half unconscious and still moaning. Rapidly Mrs. Wanless +loosened the child's clothes, and as she did so I told +them what had occurred. When I described the man +who had run over the child, I was startled by a sudden +flash of angry scorn, almost of hate, that mantled over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +the old man's face. He clutched the arms of his chair +convulsively, and half rose from his seat as he almost +hissed out the words—"By Heaven, the child has been +killed by its own father." He seemed to regret the +words as soon as uttered, and tried to hide his confusion +by eagerly inquiring of his wife if she had found out +where Sally was hurt. The effort failed him, however, +and he remained visibly embarrassed by my presence. +I would have left, but I too was anxious to see where +Sarah was hurt, so I turned to the couch to give Thomas +time to recover himself. As I did so, Sally screamed. +Her grandmother had attempted to draw down her +loosened dress, and in doing so had disturbed the child's +legs, causing acute pain.</p> + +<p>I judged at once that a leg was either bruised or +broken, and begged Mrs. Wanless to feel gently for the +hurt. Almost immediately the child uttered a scream, +crying, "Oh, my right leg, my right leg;" and a brief examination +proved the fact that it was broken just a +little way below the knee. The sobbing of the child unnerved +Mrs. Wanless, and she seemed about to faint, so +I led her to a seat, gave her a glass of water, and returned +to Sarah, turning her carefully flat on her back, and +kneeling down, gently removed her stocking from the +broken limb, which I then laid straight out on the couch, +propping it on either side with such soft articles as I +could lay hands on. That done, I told Sarah to lie as +still as she could until the doctor came, when he would +soon ease her pain. Soothing the child thus, and hardly +thinking of the old people, I was suddenly interrupted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +by Thomas. He had risen from his chair, and, leaning +on his staff, had approached the couch. He stood there +for a little, looking at his little maiden with an expression +of intense pain and sorrow on his face. Then he turned +to me, and, without speaking, held out his hand. I rose +to my feet, grasped it, and, suddenly bethinking myself for +the first time, uncovered my head. The tears gathered +in my eyes in spite of myself. I knew in my heart that +Thomas Wanless and I were friends.</p> + +<p>And great friends we became in time. At first I went +to the cottage daily to enquire after little Sarah, who +progressed favourably under the Warwick surgeon's care; +and when she was past all danger and pain, I went to +talk with old Thomas. Gradually his heart opened to +me; and bit by bit I gathered up the main incidents of +his history. A commonplace history enough, yet tragic +too; for Thomas was no commonplace man. There was +a depth of passion beneath that still hard face; a wealth +of feeling, a range of thought that to me was utterly +astounding. What had not this village labourer known +and suffered; what sorrow; what baffled hope; yea, what +despair; and, through despair, what peace! As I sat by +his chair on the summer evenings and listened to his +talk with his old friends, or walked with him in the +by-lanes, gathering from his lips the leading events of +his life, my heart often burned within me. Yet, refined +reader, gentle reader, Thomas Wanless was only a +peasant; a man that sold vegetables and flowers from +door to door in little Warwick town to eke out his means +of subsistence. His was the toiler's lot; the lot without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +hope for this world, whose natural end is want, and a +pauper's grave.</p> + +<p>Can I hope to interest you in this man's history? I +confess I have my doubts. There is tragedy in it; it is +mostly tragedy; but then it is the tragedy of the low +born. I shall not be able to introduce you to any arch +plotter; to groups of refined adulteresses clad in robes +of satin and blazoned with jewels and gold, at once the +sign and the fruit of their shame. Nor can I promise to +unweave startling plots, or to deal in mysterious horrors +such as cause the flesh of dainty ladies to creep with +a delicious excitement. No; the incidents of Thomas +Wanless's story are mostly those of a plain English +villager, doomed to suffer and to bear his share of the +load of our national greatness; one above the common +level in his personal qualities to be sure, but nowise +above the common lot. Those who cannot bear to read +of such, had better close the book.</p> + +<p>Read by you or not, Thomas Wanless's story I must +write, for it is a story that all the upper powers of these +realms would do well to ponder—from the serene +defenders of the faith, with their high satellite, lord bishops +in lawn sleeves, downwards. The day is coming, and +coming soon, when the men of Thomas Wanless's stamp +will invite these dignitaries to give an account of +themselves, and to justify the manner of their being +under penalty of summary notice to quit.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN IS SET FORTH THE BLESSEDNESS OF +A HELOT'S NURTURE.</h3> + + +<p>The grandfather of Thomas Wanless had been a small +Warwickshire yeoman, whom the troublous times towards +the latter end of the last century, family misfortunes, +and the pressure of the large landowners, had combined +to reduce in circumstances. His son Jacob had, +therefore, found himself in the position of a day labourer +on the farms around Ashbrook, raised above his fellow +labourers only by the fact that he could sign his name, +and that, through his wife, he owned a small freehold +cottage with about a quarter of an acre of garden in the +village. His unusual literary accomplishments, and his +small possession did little to relieve him from the common +miseries which pressed more or less on all, but most, of +course, on the lowest class, during the years that +succeeded the "glorious" Napoleonic wars. The winter of +1819, therefore, found him wrestling with the bitter energy +of a hungry despair to get bread for a family of six +children. The task proved too much for him, and he +was reluctantly driven to let his oldest boy Thomas go +to work on the Whitbury farm for a shilling a week. +Thomas had been trying to pick up some inkling of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +art of reading at a dame's school in the village, but had +not made much progress—could, when thus launched on +the world, do no more than spell out the Sermon on the +Mount, or the first verses of the 1st chapter in John's +Gospel, and ere a year was well over he had forgotten +even that. There were no demagogues in those days +disturbing peaceful villages with clamours for education; +no laws prohibiting the labour of little children at tasks +beyond their strength.</p> + +<p>The squires, the parsons, and the larger farmers had +the law in their own hands, and combined to keep the +lower orders in ignorance, giving God thanks that they +had the power so to do. The sporting parson of Ashbrook +of that day even thought it superfluous to +teach those d——d labourers' brats the Catechism. He +appeared to think his duty done when he had stumbled +through the prayers once a week in church. That, at +least, was the range of his spiritual duties. For the rest, +he considered it of the highest moment that his tithes +should be promptly paid; that all poaching should be +summarily punished, and that the hunting appointments +of the shire should always be graced by his presence. It was +also a point of duty with him always to vote true blue, +and never to miss a good dinner at any aristocratic table +within his reach. He would say grace with fervour, and +drink the good wines till his face grew purple and his +eyes bloodshot. If he had another mission in life, it +was to do his best to divert in sublime disregard of merit +or human wants, the charity which some reluctantly +contrite sinner of former days had left for the poor of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +the parish, to the use of creatures who had excited his +good feeling by their obsequiousness.</p> + +<p>So it came to pass that little Thomas Wanless was +launched on the world at the early age of eight, at the +age when the well-to-do begin to think of sending their +children to school. Clad in a sort of blue smock and +heavy clog boots; patched, not over-warm breeches and +stockings, Thomas had to face the wintry blasts in the +early morning, for it was a good mile walk to Whitbury +Farm. There, all day long, he either trudged wearily +by the sides of the horses at plough, often nearly frozen +with cold, or did rough jobs about the cattle or pigs in +the muck-littered farmyard. Weary, heavy hearted, and +hungry, the lad came home at night to his meagre supper +of thin oatmeal porridge, or of black bread flavoured +with coarse bacon, washed down sometimes with a little +thin ale or cider. Often he had for dinner only dry +bread and a little watery cheese, and rarely or never any +meat or milk. Supper over the boy crept straight to +bed. For two years this was the life the boy led, and at +the end of these two years his wage was but eighteenpence +a week. No food was given him save, perhaps, an +occasional hunch of bread surreptitiously conveyed to +him beneath the apron of a dairymaid endowed with +fellow feeling. What need to fill up the picture of these +years—who does not know it now? The long autumn +days spent watching the corn, often, weary with watching, +and hungry, falling asleep by the hedge side. The +dreary winters, the hard pallet, and still harder fare, the +scant clothing and chilled blood, the crowded sleeping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +rooms and wan stunted figures; find you not all the history +of lives like this set forth in Parliamentary Blue Books +for legislators to ponder over and mend, if they can or +care. Thomas Wanless suffered no more hardships than +millions that have gone before him, or that follow after +to this day, bearing on their weary, patient shoulders +the burden of our magnificent civilization. He and the +others suspected not that this was their allotted mission in +our immaculate order of society; but the concrete +sufferings of his lot he could feel. For him the harsh +words and cruel blows of the farmer were real enough, +and, in the misery of his present sufferings, his young life +lost its joy and hope. For him the birds that sang in +the sweet spring time brought no melody of heaven, the +autumn with its golden grain no joy. He knew only of +labour, and men's hardness, and was familiar mostly +with hunger and cold and pain. The divine order of the +British Constitution had ordained it—why should he +complain? If my lord and my lady lived in wasteful +luxury, if proud squires and their henchmen trod crops +under foot in their pursuit of sport, totally regardless of +a people's necessities; if vermin, strictly preserved, ate +the bread of the poor in order that the lordly few might +indulge the wild brute passion for slaughter, deemed by +them a mark of high-breeding, what was that to Thomas +and his kind? Had not those people a right to their +pleasure? Was not the land theirs, by theft or fraud it +might be, but still theirs by a power none dared gainsay? +All that was as clear as day, and religion itself was +distinctly on the side of the upper classes. The Church<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +through its tithes shared in their exclusive privileges, and +the parson of the parish was a diligent guardian of +property. On the rare occasions when he preached a +sermon his theme was the duty of the poor to be +contented and obedient. Men who dared to think, he +classed as rioters, who, like poachers and rick-burners, +were an abomination to the Lord. Who so dared to +question the divine order of British society, deserved, in +the parson's view, everlasting death. Wealth, in short, +according to this beautiful gospel, was for them that had +it or could steal it within the lines of the constitution, +and for the poor there was degradation, hunger, rags, +and, by way of hope, a chance of the pauper's heaven.</p> + +<p>It must be all right, of course; but somehow, gradually, +to little Thomas it did not appear so. Very young and +ignorant as he was, strange thoughts began to stir within +him. At home he saw his father sinking more and more +into the hopeless state of a man whose only earthly hope +was the parish workhouse; he saw his mother beaten to +the earth with the weary work of rearing a family of six +children, without the means of giving them enough to +eat. One by one these went out, like himself, from their +little three-roomed cottage to try and earn the bread +they needed. The girls worked in the fields like the +rest. All were, like himself, uneducated, and, in spite of +all, the wolf could hardly be kept from the door when +bread was dear, as it often was in those days. His +father's wages never averaged more than 8s. a-week the +year round. But what did that matter? Had not the +parish provided a poorhouse, and did it not give bread of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +a kind to every miserable groundling whom it could not +drive beyond its bounds? They ought surely to have +been contented. Yet Thomas, who saw and often felt +their hunger, and contrasted it with the coarse profusion +at the farm, and the pampered condition of the squire's +menials at the Grange—he doubted many things.</p> + +<p>The sight of a meeting of fox-hunters, and of the rush +of their horses across the cultivated land, filled him with +wrath even then. The life he saw around him had no unity +in it. Thus it happened that, by the time he was 13, +though still stunted in body, he had begun to assert some +amount of dogged independence, and was driven away +from Whitbury farm because he flew at his drunken +master for striking him with the waggoner's whip.</p> + +<p>With some difficulty he got work after this, at 2s. a +week and his dinner, on a small dairy farm called the +Brooks, which lay a mile further from the village, on the +Stratford Road. There he got better treatment. His +master was a quiet hard-working man, who had himself +a hard struggle to meet his rent, maintain his stock of +nine cows, and get a living. His own troubles had tended +rather to soften than harden his nature. Thomas, though +having to work early and late, at least always got his +warm dinner, and often received a draught of milk from +the motherly housewife. Here, therefore, he began to +grow; his stunted limbs straightened out; his chest +expanded, and, by the time he was seventeen he gave the +promise of becoming a more than usually stalwart labourer.</p> + +<p>While Thomas was still new at this dairy farm, and +while the remembrance of his defiance was still fresh in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +the minds of farmer Pemberton, of Whitbury, and his +family, he was subjected to an outrage which almost +killed him, and left a mark on his mind which was fresh +and vivid to the day of his death. Farmer Pemberton's +sons resolved to have a lark with the "impudent young +devil." Their first idea was to catch Thomas as he came +home at night, and, after trouncing him soundly, +duck him in the stinking pond formed by the farm +sewage. On consulting their friend, the eldest son of +Lawyer Turner, of Warwick, he, however, said that it +would be better to frighten the little beggar into doing +something they might get him clapped into jail for. +Led by this young knave, the farmer's three sons disguised +themselves by blackening their faces and donning +old clothes. Then, armed with bludgeons and knives, +they lay in wait for Thomas as he came home from work +in the gloom of an October evening. Their intention +was to seize him, and amid great demonstrations of +knives and fearful imprecations, order him to take them +to Farmer Pemberton's rickyard. Once there they +intended to force him to set fire to some straw in the +yard, and then seize him for fire-raising. As young +Turner said, they might easily in this way swear him +into jail for a twelvemonth.</p> + +<p>This diabolical plot was actually and literally carried +out upon this poor, ignorant, peasant lad by four young +men, supposed to be educated and civilised; and it might +have had all the disastrous consequences they could have +wished but for an accident. A labourer on the farm +overheard part of the conversation of the plotters as they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +marshalled themselves on the night of the expedition, +and, as soon as the coast was clear, stole off to warn the +boy's father. Jacob Wanless and he at once roused the +neighbours; and, after a delay of perhaps twenty minutes, +half a dozen men started for Whitbury Farm, while as +many took the Stratford Road to try to save the boy +from capture.</p> + +<p>The latter party was too late; Thomas was caught +near a cross-road about a quarter of a mile from the farm. +Two disguised men rushed upon him from opposite sides +of the road with savage growls, their blackened faces half +hid in mufflers. Brandishing clubs and knives, they +demanded his name. Thomas gave one piercing yell of +terror and dashed forward, but was seized and held fast. +Gripping him by the collar of his smock till he was +nearly choked, young Turner again demanded his name, +and, on Thomas gasping it out, roared in his ear, "then +you are the villain we want. You must take us to +farmer Pemberton's rickyard and stables. We are rick-burners, +and will kill you unless you obey." Whereat he +flourished a knife, and drew the back of it across his own +throat, with a significant gurgle. Thomas trembled in +every limb, tried to speak, but his tongue failing him, +burst into a wail of crying instead, and sank to the +ground. The scoundrels laughed hoarsely, and, amid a +volley of oaths, hauled him to his feet. Then forcing +him on his knees, Turner ordered him to swear to lead +them to the place, and keep faith with them. As the +boy hesitated, they stood over him crying, "Swear, +swear, you obstinate pig, or you die," and Turner held<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +the knife to his heart. Thoroughly cowed and terror +stricken, Thomas gasped out, "I swear." A man on each +side then laid hold of him, hauled him to his feet and led +him towards the farm, the other two ruffians acting +guards, muttering foul oaths, and brandishing their +cudgels within an inch of his face in a way that froze his +very heart's blood with terror.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the barn, they produced a tinderbox, and, +lighting a match, ordered Thomas to set fire to a heap +of loose straw that lay near the barn door. Thomas +refused. A dim glimmer of the fact that he was being +hoaxed had risen through his fears. He thought he +knew the voices of at least two of his tormentors, and he +grew bolder. Twice the order was repeated amid +ominous handling of knives, but he sullenly bade them +light the straw themselves, and thrust his hands into his +pockets. After a third refusal one of the Pembertons +struck him in the face a blow that loosened three of his +teeth, and made his nose bleed profusely. Then once +more he was asked to light the straw, but the only reply +was a piercing cry for help. In a moment a gag was +thrust into his bleeding mouth, and he was flung on the +ground, where they proceeded to pinion his hands and +his feet. Before completing the tying, Turner hissed +into his ear, "Hold up your hand to say you yield, you +little devil, or we will beat you to death." But Thomas +lay still, so the whole four of them commenced to push +him about with their feet, and to strike him with their +sticks, amid growls and horrid oaths. Then Thomas +lost consciousness. When he awoke again he was at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +home in his mother's bed. His mother was kneeling by +his side weeping bitterly, and his father stood over him +holding a feeble rushlight, watching for the return of life. +The boy was in great pain, especially about the legs and +abdomen, and could not move his left arm at all. His +face was swollen, his lips and gums lacerated and sore, +and he lay tossing in pain till the grey morning light, +when he dropt off into a fitful sleep. A fortnight +elapsed before he was able to resume work.</p> + +<p>The rescuing party had reached the farm barely in time +to prevent the brutal ruffians from carrying their sport to +perhaps a fatal conclusion. Guided by the curses and +laughter, Jacob and his friends had rushed upon the +savages in the midst of the kicking, and Jacob himself in +a frenzy of rage wrenched a cudgel from the nearest of +them, felled him to the earth with it, and dragged his son +from amongst the others' feet. The man he struck +happened to be Turner; and, seeing him down, the +cowardly young Pembertons took to their heels before the +slower moving labourers could capture them. Turner, all +bleeding as he was, they attempted to take with them in +order to give him into custody, but on the way to the +village he tripped up one of his guards, wrenched himself +free, and bolted. An outrage like this surely could not go +unpunished. Jacob Wanless determined that it should +not, and went to a Warwick lawyer, a rival of old Turner's, +with a view to get redress. This lawyer, Overend by +name, was a sort of pettifogger, who laid himself out for +poor men's work. In his way he was clever enough; but, +unfortunately, he often got drunk; and, even when sober,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +was hardly a match for old Turner. When Thomas's +case came before the justices, Jacob, therefore, fared badly. +Overend had just enough drink to make him violent and +abusive, and the result was that his witnesses were so +bamboozled and browbeaten by both Turner and the +bench that they became confused, and gave incoherent +answers; so it was not very difficult, false swearing +being easy, for Turner and his clients to make Thomas +the criminal. His attack on old Pemberton's person was +raked up in proof of his bad disposition, and his presence +in the farmyard was attributed to motives of revenge. As +a result, instead of obtaining redress, Jacob's case was +dismissed by the magistrates, and he and his son admonished. +The chairman of the day, Squire Polewhele, of +Middlebury, told Jacob he might be thankful that they +did not put his son in jail for assault. There could be +no doubt in his opinion that the young scamp had gone +to farmer Pemberton's rickyard with malicious intent, for +it was clear that he was an ill-conditioned rascal, and if +his father did not take better care of his upbringing he +might live to see him come to a bad end.</p> + +<p>Such was Jacob's consolation. It took him and his +son six months to pay Overend's bill of 30s. The +unlucky labourer who had brought the news of the plot +fared perhaps worse than anybody, for old Pemberton, at +the instigation of his sons, turned him off at a moment's +notice. It was nearly four months before the poor fellow +could get another steady job, and he and his family were +all winter chargeable on the rates.</p> + +<p>As for the boy Thomas, his nervous system had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +received such a shock that it became a positive agony to +him to have to trudge home from his work in the dark +winter nights, and when his father was unable to go to +meet him he always ran at the top of his speed past +Whitbury farm, his heart within him palpitating like to +burst. All his life long, so deep was the impression +that fright made on him, a certain nervous tremor seized +him whenever he found himself alone on a strange road +on a moonless night.</p> + +<p>The rest of the boyhood of Thomas Wanless was +uneventful. He grew in mind and in stature, and suffered +less withal from hunger than many of his order. At the +age of twenty he took a wife, following in that respect +the habits of those around him. 'Tis the fashion nowadays +to inveigh against early marriages, and especially +against the poor who marry early. By such a practice it +is declared miseries are heaped upon them, and our +pauper roll is augmented. This is an easy way to push +aside one of the most perplexing social problems that +this country has ever had to face. With the growth of +wealth marriage has become a luxury even to the rich, +and for the comparatively poor a forbidden indulgence. +As a consequence of this the youth of the present day +avoid marriage with all its hampering ties. A code of +morals has thus grown up which may be said to be +paving the way for a coming negation of all morality.</p> + +<p>A young man may commit almost any crime against a +young woman with impunity so long as he steers clear of +all hints of marriage. The relations of the sexes are +under this modern code utterly unnatural and fruitful of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +corruption. Nor can it be otherwise while a man is +forbidden under penalty of social ostracism to take a +wife. To marry is almost as sure a way to renounce the +world, with all its hopes and advantages, as of old was the +taking of a monastic vow. What the next generation +will be, what licenses it will give itself under the modern +restrictions which outrage all that is best in humanity, I +must not venture to predict. But that corruption is +spreading on all hands, that flippancy, folly, and worse, +dominate the relationships of the young of both sexes is +even now too apparent.</p> + +<p>But I am travelling far from Thomas Wanless's history. +He at all events felt no social restraint save that of +poverty, which he did not fear, and so he married young. +The lad had, indeed, little choice.</p> + +<p>His mother died when he was 19, and one of his sisters, +the youngest of the family, was also dead. The other +had married and gone to a village five miles beyond +Warwick. Of his three brothers, one only remained at +home, a boy of 14. William, the next in age to himself, +had been kidnapped at Gloucester, and carried off to sea +in a Government ship; and the other boy, Jacob, had a +place as stable-boy at Melton Priory, Lord Raven's place, +near which his married sister lived. There was no +woman, therefore, at home to cook food for the three +that were left. His father was too broken down to dream +of marrying again, there were no houses in the miserable +overcrowded village where the three could be taken in to +lodge together, and so, unless they separated, what could +Thomas do but marry? He was willing enough, of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +course, being, like all country lads of his years, honestly +in love; and so at twenty he brought home his wife to +take his mother's place in the old freehold cottage, soon +to be his own. Sarah Leigh was a year or two older +than her husband, and had been an under-housemaid at +the Grange, the family seat of Squire Wiseman, who was +the greatest man of the parish, and lord of the manor. +Her experiences there were not, perhaps, such as best +fitted her to be a labourer's wife, and at first she was +inclined to commiserate herself. But at bottom Sarah +was a woman of sense, and by the time her second child +arrived had grown into a staid, affectionate housewife, +ever cheerfully busy in making her home comfortable.</p> + +<p>Prudent or not, Thomas thus found himself in a humble +and modest way happy. He was now acting as under-waggoner +at a farm called Grimscote, near Warwick, and +had as much as 9s. 6d. a week in summer, besides beer +and extra money in harvest. In winter his work was +also regular, though his wages were then only 8s. a week. +His duties often took him considerable distances away +from home. He was frequently at Coventry and Stratford-on-Avon, +and he had once been as far as Worcester, and +as his observant faculties were keen, he took mental notes +of what he saw. Full of pity for the misery that he everywhere +met, the feelings of his boyhood became keener, +and his independence of spirit more out-spoken. Already +this had attracted in a passing way the attention of the +authorities, and some even went so far as to shake their +wiseacre heads over him, and dubiously hint that he +might be dangerous.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>INTRODUCES THE READER TO A PHILANTHROPIC +PARSON AND A GREAT SQUIRE.</h3> + + +<p>In the years that elapsed between the close of the +Napoleonic wars and the passing of the Reform Bill, as +indeed often since, the debasement and misery of the +agricultural poor rose to agony point, and soon after +Thomas Wanless's marriage an outbreak of popular discontent, +based on hunger, stirred a little the smooth +surface of society. It became necessary, for very shame, +to at least appear to do something for the pauperised +masses on whose backs "society" was supported. Accordingly, +a pseudo philanthropic agitation was started in the +rural districts with the object of bettering, or rather of +seeming to better, the peasant's lot. Mass meetings were +held, parsons and even bishops threw themselves into the +movement, patronised it, and sought to guide it to a consummation +safe for themselves and their "dear church," +itself then so great a landowner.</p> + +<p>For rustic miseries these high personages had one main +panacea, and one only. This was not free land, fixity of +tenure for the besotted farmers always so content to lie +at the feet of their earthly lords; it was not disendowment +of the Church and the distribution of its lands among the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +people from whom they had been taken originally by +chicane and greed; nor was it the dismissal, with due +payment, of those inheritors of the ancient marauders and +appropriators of the soil, with all that is on it and under +it, for whom the people have been kept as slaves for many +generations. No; none of these things did the servants +of the British deity, that idealisation of the sacred rights +of feudal property, advocate. Far be such traitor conduct +from them. Their cure for the agricultural distress was +the "allotment system." To these reformers the free +migration of labour, the abolition of that abomination of +the poor law which prevented the poor from leaving their +parishes, was as nothing compared with allotments. +Landlords and parish authorities had but to permit the +labourers to cultivate for themselves little patches of land, +let to them at a good rent, and what opulence would these +serfs not reach.</p> + +<p>In the agitation on this tremendous reform, Thomas +Wanless took a keen interest, and then first felt sorely +his inability to read. He tried to recall the lessons of his +childhood, but could not, and was ashamed to apply for +help. Few, indeed, amongst his neighbours could have +helped him. His wife was as uneducated as himself, so +he had to be contented with gathering the purport of +what was going on from those he met at market or mill. +As far as his mind could comprehend the question it was +very clearly made up. He was convinced that all this +agitation about professed interest in the down-trodden +labourers would do them no good, and he doubted +whether any good was meant.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's not a bit of charity land we want," he always +said. "What I maintain is that you and me an' the +likes of us ought to get 10 acres or more at a fair honest +rent if we can do wi' it, and let's take our chance. Why +shouldn't I be able to keep cows and grow corn as well as +the farmer? He often wastes more than three labourers' +families could live on, and yet pays his rent. I tell ye, +lads, this talk of 'lotments and half acres, and all that, is +just damned nonsense, an' that's what it be."</p> + +<p>Sentiments like these did not make Thomas popular +with the upper powers, and had old Parson Field been +alive he might have smarted for his freedom of speech. +But the old parson had died shortly before the noise about +allotments came to a head, and the new vicar was supposed +to be of a different stamp. He was reputed to be a +favourite of one of those strange fungoid excrescences of +Christianity, the "Lord" Bishop of the diocese, who recommended +him for the vacancy, and as he was young +and ignorant of the world, he began his work with some +moral fervour and a tendency to religious zeal. The Rev. +Josiah Codling, M.A., of Jesus College, Cambridge, was +in fact a young man of liberal, not to say democratic +tendencies. He had been sufficiently impressed by some +of the more glorious precepts of the faith he came to teach +to wish in a general sort of a way to do good. Left to +follow his higher impulses he probably might have led a +life of active philanthropy, and the democratic thoroughness +of the Christian faith might have enabled him to do +something to lift the down-trodden people who formed +the bulk of his flock. It was well, at all events, that Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +Codling began with good intent. He was hardly warm +in the parish before he went into the allotment agitation +with the feverish enthusiasm of inexperience, and he also +had the temerity to start a school. Dismissing the old +parish clerk who had drowsily mumbled the "amens" +and "we beseech Thee's" for nigh forty years, he brought +a young man from Birmingham who knew something of +the three R's, and was rumoured to have even conned a +Latin primer, and constituted him parish clerk and +schoolmaster. The vicarage coach-house was turned into +a schoolroom till better could be provided, and the +vicar and his assistant began, the one to hunt up pupils, +and the other to guide their feet in the way of knowledge.</p> + +<p>The farmers for a time looked on, scarce able to +realise the meaning of this innovation, but the more they +looked the less they liked what they saw. So they +grumbled when they met in the churchyard on Sundays, +and shook their heads portentously over their beer or +brandy punch at market ordinaries, hinting that the +"Squoire" should interfere. In their bovine manner +they soon began to place stumbling-blocks in the vicar's +path. A sudden demand for the services of boys and +girls sprang up. Nearly every farmer in the district +found that he needed a new ploughboy or kitchen +wench, and the universal shilling rose to eighteenpence +a week, from the sheer pressure of this demand. Nothing +daunted, Parson Codling determined to start a night +school, and if possible get the grown lads and young +men to attend. He succeeded in inducing nearly thirty +youths to come to this night class, and among the first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +to do so was Thomas Wanless. Here was his chance, he +thought, and he seized it with avidity. Soon the numbers +thinned away. Some left because they could see no +good in learning, but most of them because their masters +on hearing of the class threatened to dismiss them at +once unless they promised to stop "going to play the +fool with that young Varsity ninny o' a parson, as knew +nowt o' plain country folks' wants;" and at the end of a +month the young schoolmaster had only seven pupils. +To these he stuck fast, and they made great progress +that winter, for the poor pale-faced Birmingham lad was +an enthusiast in his way. Thomas and he became close +friends, and the former drank in the current political +ideas which William Brown brought with him from +Birmingham as a sponge drinks up water. Early and +late, at every spare moment, Thomas was busy with his +book, and by the time spring came round again he was +able to read with tolerable ease the small county newspaper +that found its way a week old from the Grange to the +village inn. He had read the Pilgrim's Progress, +Robinson Crusoe, and some other books lent him by the +vicar, who looked upon him as his model scholar, and +took glory to himself over the labourer's success.</p> + +<p>From that winter forth, however, the enthusiasm of the +new vicar for education sensibly died away. Naturally +fitful in disposition, he craved for immediate results, and, +if they came not, his hopes were disappointed, and his +efforts at once relaxed. The pressure of the upper +powers of his parish was also beginning to tell on his +unsophisticated mind. He met with little overt opposition,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +for that might have been both troublesome and +impolitic. But quiet social forces worked on him continually +to bring him round to a proper sense of his +position as local priest of feudalism. When he dined out, +which often happened, his host would chaff him on his +attempts to make scholars of those loafing rascals of +labourers. Squire Wiseman in particular gravely assured +him that he was encouraging dangerous ideas among a +very dissolute and indefinitely corrupt lot of pariahs. +Educate them and they would altogether go to the devil.</p> + +<p>"Tell you what it is, sir," shouted a half-drunk J.P. +one evening as the vicar and some half dozen others sat +over their wine after dinner at Squire Wiseman's: "Tell +you what it is; we must get you a wife; blest if that +wouldn't give you something better to do, my boy, than +trying to make gentlemen of those damn'd skulking +labourers."</p> + +<p>The company ha ha'd with delight, and the parson +blushed to the very root of his hair.</p> + +<p>"Capital idea, 'pon my life!" said the host; "and I +know just the girl for you, Codling—at least my wife +does, for she was remarking only last night what a pity +it was—"</p> + +<p>"Please, sir," said the butler suddenly, after whispering +for a short time with a maid who had entered the room, +"Timms would like to speak wi' you. He says he's +found poacher's snares in the Ashwood coppice, and he +wants two or three fellows to help him watch the +place."</p> + +<p>"Damn the fellow! can't he let a man eat his dinner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +in peace! Tell him to go to the devil, Robins, and—and +I'll see him to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. But, sir, Timms says—"</p> + +<p>"Curse Timms, and you too! Do you hear what I +say?" roared the squire, and Robins vanished.</p> + +<p>The conversation did not get back to the subject of +Codling's marriage; and the host, after playing absently +with his glass for a minute or two, got up hastily, and +muttering, "Excuse me, gentlemen, only I think I had +better see Timms after all," left the room.</p> + +<p>That night three poachers—a Warford villager and two +shoemakers from Warwick—were caught in the coppice, +and lodged in Warwick jail.</p> + +<p>In two days it was all over Ashbrook village that the +vicar was going to get married. The servants at the +Grange had told the news to their friends in confidence.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3> +EXHIBITS MORE PHILANTHROPY, OF A MIXED SORT,<br /> +PLUS A LITTLE FIGHTING—THE "ALLOTMENT"<br /> +CURE FOR HUNGER.<br /> +</h3> + + +<p>The village gossips were right. Lady Harriet Wiseman +did find the vicar a wife, though not just then. The +vicar's young zeal, his vague ideas, had first to be +moderated or abandoned. Bit by bit he was brought +down to the prosaic realities of parish life, which embraced +obligations unheard of in Holy Writ. That says nothing +about the necessity for upholding feudalism. A mere +twelvemonths' labour at reforming the morals and refining +the minds of the rustics by means of the schoolmaster was +not quite enough to bring young Codling to a proper sense +of his position. A few more vagaries, a little further indulgence +in the pleasure of sowing religious wild oats, and +then the vicar would be ready to contract that highly +advantageous marriage, which forms the goal of so many a +parson's ambition.</p> + +<p>That accomplished, Codling might be considered +tamed. The one further aberration of his which we have +to notice was his plunge into the allotment agitation. +As the excitement over teaching the rustics their alphabet +and multiplication table began to die out in his mind,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +this new whim came handily to take its place and +prevent him from feeling like a deserter. Here, he +declared, was the true remedy for the miseries of the +rural poor; he had become convinced that to educate +them first was to begin at the wrong end. The first +thing was to make them comfortable in their homes, and +then they might learn to read with more advantage. +The schoolmaster was by no means to be thrown over, +but meanwhile Codling said the most important thing +was that the labourers should have patches of land to +grow cabbages and potatoes.</p> + +<p>The vicar's new fad, as it was called, did not excite +the same amount of hostility amongst the squirearchy of +the neighbourhood as his effort at education, but the +farmers liked it as ill. Squire Wiseman was indeed +opposed to the experiment, and had there been no other +landed proprietor of influence in the parish, the vicar's +fuss would have left no results. But fortunately, in some +respects, for the labourers, nearly all Ashbrook village, +and a good deal of the rolling meadow land to the south +of it, and that lay between wooded knolls, belonged to +an eccentric old fellow, named Hawthorn. The people +called him Captain Hawthorn, perhaps to distinguish +him from the Squire, but he had never known more of +military life than three months' service as a subaltern in +a militia regiment. This Hawthorn was an oddity. A +dry, withered, rather small man, of between 50 and 60, +slovenly in dress, and full of a sardonic humour, he was +constantly to be met walking in the country lanes, and +as often as not conversing with waggoners, poachers, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +such country people as came in his way. He was therefore +distrusted by the other big people of his neighbourhood; +but the common people loved him. The new +vicar had hardly been a week in the parish ere he was +warned by the gentry to beware of this old man. Old +Polewhele of Middlebury roundly declared that Hawthorn +was an infidel; and the Dowager-Countess of Leigholm, +Lady Harriet Wiseman's mother, felt sure that he was +in league with the Evil One, for he was always muttering +to himself, or else talking to a one-eyed, mangy, tailless +cur, that followed him everywhere, and which had more +than once snarled at her in a very vicious manner. Her +ladyship, however, had a private grudge against him, in +that he had on several occasions been wicked enough to +win money from her at cards, and take it too—a crime +she was never known to forgive.</p> + +<p>Whatever his relationship with, or belief in, the unseen +powers, Hawthorn alone of the landed gentry furthered +Codling's latest project, and made it a success in spite of +the fact that the fitful zealot was at the point of throwing +the whole thing at his heels in disgust. Codling felt that +he had a right to be disheartened when his projects were +not adopted forthwith, and moreover, he was getting +under weigh as a lover, and that made other occupations +irksome. He had done all he could, he said to himself, and +yet nobody was converted. Wiseman laughed at him +good humouredly as usual, and the farmers sent old +Sprigg of Knebesley, as their spokesman, to tell him that +in their opinion "'lotments would be the ruin of all honest +labour. Gi'e the labourers land," he said, "and they'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +skulk at home instead of doin' an honest day's work for +us. They're the laziest vagabonds in creation, and the +only thing you can do is to keep them dependent on the +rates, and when ye want 'em to work, stop supplies. +Hunger's the only prod for cattle o' that kidney."</p> + +<p>The vicar was rapidly becoming convinced that he had +made a mistake, but he had gone so far that he could +hardly at once back out, so he resolved to make one +final attempt to carry his point, in which he would obtain +the aid of a brother parson. This device would, he +thought, enable him to retreat gracefully from his false +position. The man he summoned to his help was a +Leicestershire rector, whose consuming zeal had induced +him to become a sort of itinerant evangelist of the allotment +system. What could be better than to get such a +brilliant apostle to address a mass meeting at Ashbrook. +With the failure of a prophet to convince landlords and +farmers, Codling felt that his weak-kneedness might be +justified.</p> + +<p>The Rev. Henry Slocome's services were therefore +secured, and notices of the coming meeting were posted on +the church doors and in the neighbourhood for a fortnight +in advance. As there was no building large enough, the +meeting was to be held beneath the old elm on Ashbrook +Green. The news excited great interest amongst the +labourers who, on the Saturday evening in July when the +meeting was held, gathered to the number of about 200 +men and women from all the villages in the neighbourhood. +A strange sight they presented as they stood with upturned +faces around the waggon on which the vicar, the parish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +clerk, and the speaker of the evening were perched. Grey +wizened faces, watery eyes, blueish hungry-like lips these +men and women had—a weird, hopeless-looking, toil-bent +congregation of the have-nots.</p> + +<p>Young men were stunted and shrivelled with labour +and want, and old men were gaunt and twisted with +exposure, overwork, and rheumatism. Verily if allotments +were to do these people good, the work of the self-chosen +missionary, who had come to set the country on +fire, was not to be contemned. But it boded ill for the +success of his efforts that never a landed proprietor in the +district gave the meeting his countenance. Just, however, +as business began the crowd of labourers was recruited by +from 20 to 30 young farmers and farmers' sons. These +stood apart, ranging themselves on the left of the meeting +near the churchyard wall, and rather behind the waggon. +They were too far off to hear well, but near enough for interruptions, +and they accordingly indulged frequently in +groans, ironical laughter, or jeers at the labourers. Two of +the Pembertons were there, the two who had succeeded +their father at Whitbury farm, and there also was hulking +young Turner from Warwick, half drunk as usual.</p> + +<p>The labourers themselves were in high good humour, +and indulged in a great deal of rough chaff at each other's +expense. A noted poacher in particular came in for much +attention, and amongst other things was asked if he +would "haul a cove afore the justices if he caught him +snaring rabbits in his 'lotment?" But all this was hushed +when the vicar and his ally mounted the waggon and +began proceedings. I cannot give you the speech of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +Rev. Henry Slocome, for Thomas had but a dim recollection +of it, his attention being too much occupied watching +the ongoings of the farmers. These for a time contented +themselves with making a noise, but that was far too tame +a kind of fun to satisfy such bright sparks long, and they +soon began to shy small pebbles among the crowd, +aiming at such hats or sticks as were prominent. This +raised a clamour which interrupted the meeting, and +matters were brought to a crisis by one of these stones +hitting Thomas Wanless on the cheek. It was a sharp-edged +bit of flint which cut the cheek open, and made +Thomas furious. Turning his bleeding face, now barely +visible in the gathering dusk, to the crowd, and heedless of +the vicar's shouts for silence, he exclaimed—"Lads, are +you going to stand this stone-throwing any longer; are +these slave-drivers to be allowed to bully us on our own +village green?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, no," shouted the labourers in a chorus.</p> + +<p>"Let us thrash them, then," he replied, "and teach +them that we have the right to live."</p> + +<p>He was answered with a shout and a rush. In vain the +orator parson and the vicar gesticulated and roared; in +vain the parish clerk, at Codlings' suggestion, jumped from +the waggon and tried to hold the people back. The tall +figure of Thomas Wanless, the sight of blood on his face, +his fiery looks and determined attitude, completely carried +the labourers away. More stones too were thrown, and +the jeers that accompanied them hurt almost more than +stones. A conflict was now inevitable.</p> + +<p>Seeing the younger labourers gathering round Wanless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +for an onset, Turner, ever the leader in mischief, hastily +collected his forces, and drew them back against the +churchyard wall. They had hardly time ere the labourers +were upon them.</p> + +<p>"Come on, boys," Wanless shouted, without waiting to +form an array, hardly, indeed, waiting to see who was +following him. Clenching his teeth and drawing himself +together he dashed up the slope, and singling out Turner, +closed with him, and sent his stick flying over the churchyard +wall. A moment after Turner himself was rolling +amongst the feet of those who had hurried after Wanless. +The strife now became general, and for a time all was wild +confusion. Gradually, however, the fight, as it were, gathered +into knots round the leading men on either side. Big Tom +Pemberton had been struck at by a puny little handful +of pluck, whose slender frame and pinched face indicated +an absence of stamina which ill-fitted him for a struggle +with that stalwart bully. He was instantly caught by the +throat and bent backwards. Had Wanless not happened +to look that way Pemberton might have broken his back, +for he proceeded to twist him round and double him over +his knee, but Wanless was passing, and swift as lightning, +his stick came down on Pemberton's head. The blow +staggered him, and made him let go. Pushing him aside, +Thomas seized the pale-faced lad and hurried him out of +the fight. Turning, he skirted along the edge of the +battle to cheer his comrades and help others that might +be in distress, dealing a blow here, and tripping up a foe +there, and dodging many a stroke aimed at himself. +Comparatively scathless, but somewhat blown, he worked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +his way back to the thick of the struggle, and immediately +found himself face to face with the other Pemberton, who +had just ended a tough fight with the blacksmith, and +like Wanless, was a little spent. He, however, made for +Thomas the moment he saw him, and they closed in a +fierce wrestle. They tugged and tore at each other for a +moment or two, and then went down together, falling on +their sides, Wanless, being, if anything, rather undermost. +In the fight that followed for supremacy, Pemberton's +greater weight, for he was fuller, taller, and stouter than +Thomas, seemed to promise him the victory; but with a +violent wrench, Wanless so far freed himself as to get his +knees planted against Pemberton's body, when, with a +final tug, he broke free and sprang to his feet. Bill +Pemberton also scrambled up, and they then began +hitting at each other wildly with their fists. A kind of +ring gathered round them, each side cheering its champion, +but the fight was not an equal one. The young farmer +was too fat and heavy, and Thomas's random blows +punished him fearfully. Blood trickled down his face, +and he was gasping for breath before they had fought +five minutes, and Thomas finished the contest by rushing +at Pemberton and throwing him crashing amongst his +followers' feet. They dragged him out of the melée, and, +their fury redoubled, returned to make a combined onset +on the labourers. Had they been at all equally matched +in numbers, the farmers would now probably have +driven their foes from the field, and, overmatched as +they were, they twice forced the labourers back on the +old folks, and women still huddled round the waggon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +eagerly watching the fight through the gathering +darkness.</p> + +<p>But Wanless and his lieutenant, the young blacksmith, +again and again rallied their forces and advanced to the +attack. At last, edging round to the upper end of the +churchyard, which lay aslant a considerable declivity, +they bore down on the flank of the farmers' party, with a +rush that carried everything before it. Before they +could rally themselves, the farmers were huddled together, +and, amid random blows, kicks, and oaths, driven pell +mell clear off the green, as far as the vicarage gate. +There they tried to make a stand, but the momentum +and numbers of the labourers, now swollen by many of +the women, were too much for them, and they were +finally chased from the village, amid the derisive shouts +of the victors. They retired, cursing and vowing +vengeance as they went.</p> + +<p>The fight over, the people, panting and exhausted, +drew slowly together by the waggon once more, recounting +their exploits and showing their wounds. One man +had got his arm broken, and many had severe cuts, +bruises, and sprains, but, on the whole, the damage done +had been slight.</p> + +<p>It was now almost dark, and the crowd soon began to +ask whether there was to be any more speechifying. The +old people, who had stayed by the waggon, thought the +meeting must be at an end. "The vicar," they said, +"had gone off in a huff, taking t'other parson wi' him, +when he found nary a one mindin' a bit what he said." +So the labourers were in doubts what to do. Some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +wanted to go home, having thrashed the farmers, "a good +nights job enough;" others thought a deputation ought +to go to the vicarage to try and mollify the parson, for +after all allotments might be worth having.</p> + +<p>Just as the dispute was waxing warm, the light of a +lantern shone out from behind the tree, and, coming round +to the waggon, attracted attention. Thinking it was the +parsons come back, the labourers ceased their talk to +listen; but what they heard was the voice of Captain +Hawthorn swearing at his servant for not lighting the +way better. The servant paid no attention to the oaths, +but cast his light over the waggon, and exclaimed: +"Here we are, sir. Here's where the strange cove was +a spouting. But, by the Lord Harry! he's hooked it!" +he added in a disappointed tone.</p> + +<p>"Strange cove! What's that I hear, Francis? Francis, +you scamp, don't you know that's blasphemy? Hooked +it! He! he! D—— the fellow! that comes of picking +up London servants." Then, changing his tone, the +Captain almost shouted, "Help me up, Francis. I +want to see these scoundrels. How the devil is a +man to get into this waggon? Find me a chair, will +you, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, can't you manage to mount by the wheel, +sir," answered his servant, and after some trouble the +Captain did get in by the wheel, swearing much, and +followed by his servant with the lantern. The dog then +wanted to mount also, but, being fat and heavy couldn't +manage it, so sat down and began to yelp. This caused +a fresh outburst of swearing, and ultimately Francis had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +to get out again and hoist the dog in, as the brute would +allow none of the people to touch him.</p> + +<p>Quiet and order being restored, Hawthorn stood +forward, took the lantern from his servant's hand, and, +raising it, proceeded very deliberately to survey the +crowd before him. Most of their faces, and many of their +names were well known to him; and he addressed some +of those he knew with some characteristic greeting. The +wounded men appeared to interest him specially, and +it was ludicrous to hear him rate one fellow for being +unable to protect his handsome face, and condole with +another on the coming interview with his wife. He discovered +the countenance of his own groom disfigured by +a cut on the nose and a black eye, and he held the light +over it, chuckling loudly, till the fellow fairly ducked +under. "Ha, Silas, you thief," he said, "I have always +told you that you would get punished some day for your +vanity, and sure enough the dairymaid will marry the +blacksmith in less than a month, if you show that face to +her. Gad, you'll frighten my old mare out of her wits, +too, with that diabolical figure-head of yours. You had +better go home to your mother and get it mended."</p> + +<p>"By heavens," he exclaimed, again casting his light on +another face, "there's poacher Dick. Were you in the +fray, Dick, my boy? No, no, it cannot be; he's been +mauling the gamekeepers, and has taken refuge amongst +you lads, eh?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; he fought with us all square," was the +answer, and the crowd laughed, and the Captain chuckled +again and again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p>Suddenly laying down the lantern he shouted, "Three +cheers for the victors of Ashbrook fight," a call instantly +responded to amid great good humour and much +laughter.</p> + +<p>"Three cheers for the Captain," called a voice in the +crowd, and off went the huzzas again.</p> + +<p>"Drop that nonsense, will you, boys; drop it, I say," +roared the Captain, and added as soon as he could make +himself heard above the din, "what the devil are you +cheering me for? I didn't help you to win the fight, +did I?"</p> + +<p>"No, but you cheered us for it," answered a dozen voices +together.</p> + +<p>"And that's more than any other squire in Warwickshire +would 'a' done," cried young Wanless.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Tom Wanless?" queried Hawthorn.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Then you are a damned fool, Tom, and know nothing +about it. All Englishmen like to see pluck, don't they, +you young rascal?"</p> + +<p>The ironical tone of this query was perceptible to all, +and raised an answering laugh of irony, amid which +Wanless shouted back—</p> + +<p>"We ain't Englishmen, we labourers, except when we +list and let ourselves be shot by the thousand when some +big chap with a handle to his name says, March! An' +even then the big chaps get all the rewards, and such o' +the common lot as escape hardly get leave to beg. No, +no, sir; we ain't Englishmen, we are only Englishmen's +slaves."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Drop that, Tom Wanless," interrupted Hawthorn; +"drop it. Good Lord, man, do you suppose I came here +to listen to a speech from you, when I kept well without +earshot of the parsons. And, Gad, that reminds me—Where +are the parsons? Francis! Francis!"</p> + +<p>"Yes sir, yes sir," answered that staid person, hurriedly +coming forward.</p> + +<p>"Humph, making love to the wenches at my very elbow, +you graceless dog. Go and tell the vicar with my compliments, +that I want to speak to him out here in this old +waggon with the bottom half out. Gad, I'll be through +it, I do believe, before you get back. Could that shouting +fellow have stamped holes in it," he added to himself, as +Francis disappeared. "Shouldn't wonder," and chuckling +again at the idea, he sat down on the side of the waggon, +quite oblivious of the expectant crowd around him. An +impatient hum soon broke on his ear, and he lifted his +head and called out, "Go home to bed, you mutinous +pack; you'll be defrauding your masters of an hour's +work to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"No fear of that, sir; and we want to hear what you +have got to say to us."</p> + +<p>"Say to you! Ah, yes, to be sure I have something +to say; but we must wait for the parson, boys."</p> + +<p>"Here he comes! Here he comes!" shouted voices +from the edge of the crowd, and after a little bustling the +ruddy face of Codling, and the grey head of his friend +gleamed over the side of the waggon in the dim candle-light.</p> + +<p>"Glad to see you, sir, I'm sure," said Hawthorn to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +vicar graciously; "and you, too, sir," turning to Mr. +Slocome. "Sorry I didn't hear your speech; Gad, you +have put new life into the boys; they've smashed the +farmers. 'Pon my soul, sir, I didn't think they had it in +them. You must be a powerful orator, and I wish I had +been here sooner."</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, sir, I have not the advantage," stammered +Slocome. "I did not cause the fight, God forbid. I did +all I could to stop it; my mission is not to stir up sedition, +sir, but to preach peace." This last remark in a tone of +high offence.</p> + +<p>"He, he, he!" laughed the cynical squire. "Well, well, +we shan't dispute the point. The boys did fight, and +well, too, as you must allow. Licked the farmers, by +Jove; and I tell you what, Mr. Vicar," turning again to +Codling, "I mean to show my appreciation of their pluck +by doing something for them. What do you propose it +should be?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid, sir," answered the vicar, pompously, "I +can't abet you in your design, or lend it my countenance. +I am deeply grieved that my humbler parishioners should +have so far forgotten themselves as to create a disturbance +in the village to-night. It has been my wish to do them +good, and for that end I held this meeting, and brought +my esteemed brother here to imbue their minds with the +principles of forethought and thrift. But they interrupted +his address with an unseemly riot, led, I am sorry to say, +by a young man of whom I had hoped better things. +Bitterness between man and man, class and class, has +been created by the conduct of which you have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +guilty to-night, my friends, and you may be sure, though +I wish you well, it will be long before I again make the +mistake of seeking to increase your material comforts." +Turning again to Hawthorn, he added, "I must beg you +to excuse me, sir, but I cannot remain here to behold a +landed proprietor of this parish, the landlord, in fact, of +these villagers, acting as an inflamer of sedition," and +with lofty bow, and a wave of his hand, dimly visible to +his listeners, Codling turned to go.</p> + +<p>"Stay a moment," roared Hawthorn, reaching forth his +stick as if to catch the vicar by the collar of his coat. +"Stop, sir; don't let him go, boys, I also have something +to say." The vicar stood still, looking rather foolish, and +Hawthorn continued—"You have made an accusation +against my tenants, and I, as their representative and +spokesman, must ask you to substantiate those charges. +I don't care a curse what you say about myself, but I'm +not going to stand by and see these men slandered. Tell +me, sir, who began the disturbance?"</p> + +<p>"It was—I believe—I—fancy—some people on the +outskirts of the meeting—people from Warwick I should +imagine."</p> + +<p>"Bah! can't you speak out like a man, instead of +beating about the bush like a fool? Who began the +disturbance?" The old Captain was clearly getting +excited.</p> + +<p>"The—the farmers and—but—" blurted out Codling.</p> + +<p>"Ah! the farmers was it?" interrupted Hawthorn, +"and would you have had these lads stand still like asses +to be thwacked? Do you mean to come out here and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +deliberately blame my tenants for having spirit enough +left to resent insult and abuse? A nice parson you are—a +fine preacher of peace. Suppose it had been the other +way, and the farmers had been taunted and stoned by the +labourers until they turned and thrashed them. What +would you have said then? No doubt that these wretches +deserved their fate. I hate all this snivelling cant about +the obligation of the poor to submit to whatever is put +upon them."</p> + +<p>Hawthorn spoke fast and bitterly, and, as he ended, his +audience broke into ringing cheers much prolonged.</p> + +<p>Codling stood dumb, and looked so cowed and sheepish +that Slocome tried a diversion.</p> + +<p>"Captain Hawthorn—I believe—and good people," +he began, but his voice was drowned amid cries of +"Silence—hold your tongue; we want to hear the +Captain."</p> + +<p>"I have a little more to say, my boys," Hawthorn +answered. "My chief object in coming here, and in asking +the Vicar to come here, was to tell you that I have +decided to assign to you, the men of my own village, +the twenty acre field just by on Warwick road, to be +made into allotment gardens. I admire"—but he got no +further. Shout upon shout, the men cheered, and the +women wept and laughed by turns, as if the speaker had +promised them all fortunes. The announcement was so +unexpected, and the way it was made went so about the +hearts of these poor villagers, that they could have +hugged the old Captain to death for joy had he let +himself within their reach. As it was, they crowded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +round the waggon to shake hands with him, hustling the +Vicar and his friend out of the way, and it was fully five +minutes before order could be restored. During the +hubbub the Vicar and Mr. Slocome managed to slink +away. What Codling may have thought about his own +conduct on that evening no one can say, but he evidently +resented Hawthorn's freedom of speech most bitterly. +He was disgusted also that the people should have got +their allotments so obviously without his help, and from +this time forth he may be said to have abjured +philanthropy. Henceforth he found it safer and much +more pleasant to confine his attention to Church ritual +and the worship of feudalism.</p> + +<p>The labourers never missed the Vicar in their delight +over Hawthorn's announcement. They wanted to escort +him home in a body, but he would not hear of it. He +peremptorily ordered them to go home to bed, and +departed with his servant and his dog. A few of the +younger men followed him to the end of the village, then +sending a parting cheer after him quickly dispersed. +Thus ended the great Ashbrook allotment meeting. It +was a nine days' wonder in the neighbourhood, and the +oddities of Hawthorn were held to be dangerous by the +squires, while farmers cursed him for his liberality. But +these things did not prevent the labourers from obtaining +their allotments, and they were thereby rendered perhaps +a degree less hungry for a time.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>DISCLOSES AN EXCELLENT, INFALLIBLE AND ARISTOCRATIC +PLAN FOR MANUFACTURING CRIMINALS.</h3> + + +<p>Nothing serious came directly of the Ashbrook fight. +There was a talk of bringing certain labourers before the +justices, and the Pembertons in particular uttered loud +threats against Tom Wanless, young Satchwell, the +blacksmith, and one or two others; but old Hawthorn +let it be widely known that if any steps were taken to +prosecute the labourers, he would not only provide means +for their defence, but enable them also to raise counter +actions, in support of which he would compel the Vicar +to enter the witness-box. That did not suit the farmers +or their abettors, still less Codling, so after a little noisy +squabbling the matter dropped.</p> + +<p>Henceforth, however, the feud, if such it may be called, +between the Pembertons and Wanless was renewed, +and became on their part a sleepless desire for petty +vengeances. They never missed the smallest opportunity +of making him feel their ill-will. Thomas had in other +ways enough to bear with in those days, helped though he +was by his freehold cottage and allotment. His intelligence +told against him with most of the farmers, making them +regard him with hatred and suspicion. So he got no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +opportunity of bettering himself, was, indeed, hardly able +to keep his head above water by the severest labour. +Many a time did he see other and less skilled workmen +preferred before him, and often in harvest had he to work +as one of a gang of reapers under another contractor, +instead of himself taking the lead. This, by and by, +caused him to try and find work at greater distances +from home, and he was occasionally away for months at +a time wood-cutting, ditch-cutting, toiling early and late +for what pittance he could pick up, while his wife +struggled at home to make ends meet in spite of her +increasing family. By the time Thomas was 35 years +old, she had borne him eight children, of whom seven +were alive, and it was almost more than mortal could do +to bring these up decently on 9s. or 10s. a-week. How +his neighbours, who had rent to pay, managed, was more +than Thomas could divine, unless they quietly stole what +was not given them; as, indeed, most of them did. Many +also were so demoralised as to look upon poor relief as a +perquisite which they thought it no shame to accept, and +even demand, on all occasions. Nearly all poached game, +when they had a chance, and boasted of it to each other. +In regard to game there was, in fact, no consciousness of +wrong-doing in the mind of any labourer, and Thomas +himself thought nothing of killing a rabbit or leveret when he +had the chance; the only anxiety was not to be caught +doing it. There was a clear distinction in his mind +between slaying wild animals protected by selfish and +abominable laws, and stealing vegetables, fowls, stray +eggs, or fruit, which many of his comrades made a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +practice of doing, pleading in their defence that man +must live.</p> + +<p>Thomas Wanless had a soul above petty thieving of this +kind. Not only was he naturally high-spirited and +jealous of a good conscience, but his mind had become +considerably expanded by diligent cultivation. He did +not again forget his reading, and though his books were +few, he still contrived to read enough on odd Sundays in +summer, and in the winter evenings, to stimulate his +naturally strong thinking powers. His friends, the blacksmith +and the parish clerk, were also often in his company, +and the three discussed matters of Church and State in +the freest possible style over their jugs of thin ale. Poor +Brown, the parish clerk and schoolmaster, had not +improved his prospects by settling in Ashbrook, for the +vicar had long ceased to interest himself in the +education of the poor, and the school emoluments had +become meagre enough. But Brown had married, and +so was, in a measure, rooted to the spot, not knowing +where to better himself.</p> + +<p>He eked out his parish clerkship with odd accountant +jobs for surrounding farmers, and occasionally picked up +a crown or two by acting as clerk at country auctions, +and his greatest earthly blessing was a contested parliamentary +election. Yet life was hard for him withal, +and his Radicalism naturally was bitter, for adversity is +the best nursery of democratic ideas. It is only the +noblest natures that can enjoy prosperity, and yet be just +and considerate towards all men. Too often the man +who when poor was a blatant Radical becomes a hollow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +tin kettle sort of creature when he has struggled up from +the earth where his Radicalism took birth. I say not +that Brown was of this sort, but undeniably poverty and +disappointment put an edge on his wit when he dealt +with the inequalities of life, and under his leadership +Thomas Wanless stood in no danger of becoming an +unquestioning pauper. The three friends solved social +problems in a style that would have amazed their +superiors had they known; nay, that they would have +even startled some of the limp and dilettante friends of +the people who, in these days, haunt London clubs, and +dilate with wondrous volubility on social reform. +Thomas's Radicalism, however, never interfered with his +work, for his family was more to him than the ills of the +State. He viewed these wrongs, perhaps, from too narrow +a standpoint for him to be a great social reformer. He +felt for his little ones, and for his once blooming, patient +wife—now grown brown, gaunt, and hollow-eyed from +incessant care, toil, and privation—and the disjointed +order of society was to him a personal wrong. His life +was, indeed, cheerless; and after his father died and his +brother had been killed by a fall from a rick, he often felt +lonely and sullen at the heart, working against his fate as +a prisoner might in chains. For him this life had no +hope, no prospect of rest but the grave.</p> + +<p>Struggling bravely, though bitter at the heart, Thomas +dragged his family through the terrible years that followed +the passing of the Reform Bill—years during which his +wife and children were almost as familiar with want as +with the light of the sun. How they survived he could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +hardly tell. "My remembrance of that time," he one +day said to me, "is but a kind of confused dream. I +ceased to think or feel. I just worked where and when +I could; and I swallowed my crust like a dumb beast. +But now I thank God that I had health, though then to +commit murder would at times to me have seemed as +nothing."</p> + +<p>In that time Thomas became a strong Chartist, and +was a leader among his fellows; and, feeling as he did, it +says much for his force of character that there were no +outbreaks by the Ashbrook villagers such as occurred in +many parts of Warwickshire at that time. His opinions, +however, were well known, and he was called a rogue +freely enough by his enemies the farmers. More than +once he might have suffered unjust imprisonment for his +freedom of speech at village gatherings and elsewhere, +had not old Squire Hawthorn stood his friend. Ever +since Ashbrook fight, that strange old man had taken +a special interest in Thomas. It only extended, however, +to occasional efforts to keep him out of the grip of +the justices, and could hardly perhaps have gone further, +for Thomas was proud; and, besides, he was a labourer, +and in that lowly lot he was predestined by the laws of +the landed oligarchy to remain. Over the great gulf +fixed by that mighty trades union of the Take-alls he +could never pass.</p> + +<p>So passed the years of my friend's early manhood. +He was familiar with care; poverty was his abiding +portion. A young family gathered round his knee; +which he tried to bring up in less ignorance than had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +been his early lot, but whom he could not always keep less +hungry. Thomas had many times difficulty in providing +his household with a sufficiency of coarse dry bread. +Insufficiently nourished his children were weakly and +stunted; little able to wrestle with disease. His two +eldest boys were sent to work for good at the age of ten; +and the younger of the two died through exposure and +hunger before he was twelve. The girls were kept longer +at home, hard though the fight for life was; but the +third boy (Thomas) was taken on at Squire Hawthorn's +own farm, at 2s. per week, when he was little over nine. +That same year, Thomas himself had had a fine spell of +harvesting; and his wife, having no new baby to provide +for, had saved a few shillings by selling vegetables from +the allotment garden, to people in Warwick town, so +that the winter was faced by the couple in better heart +than they had known almost since the day they were +married. A pound or two in hand after meeting the +bills that the harvest money had to pay! Surely greater +bliss no man could know. The thought of such riches +made Thomas declare that he might yet escape the +workhouse, as, thank God, his father had done. +Already, though not forty years old, the shadow of that +accursed refuge of the English poor had begun to loom +over Thomas's future, grim and horrible as the gate of +Hell. As he thought, in his hours of bitterness, of +whither his endless toil was carrying him, of the sole +"good" that the Take-alls left to him and such as him, +he set his teeth and cursed his country. Nor would he +believe that for this he had been born. His soul was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +bitter within him, and, young as he yet was, hard work and +harder fare were telling on his stalwart frame.</p> + +<p>But this autumn had brought him a gleam of hope; +and the stirring events of the time helped to strengthen +that hope. All things were changing. The great towns +had been roused into political activity by the Reform +Bill, and railways were fast revolutionising the habits of +the people the land through, as well as opening up new +fields of labour. At last, then, and even in sleepy, wealth +worshipping, hide-bound England, democracy might be +considered born. Thomas was sanguine that in the +coming struggles the people would win, and, like all +sanguine believers in the future good, his belief expected +instant fulfilment. The apostles themselves lived in the +belief that the end of the world was at hand. Might not +the way-worn and heart-weary agricultural labourer +therefore hope? Thomas Wanless, at least, did so. The +world was changing for others; for him and his also better +times might be at hand. Hitherto, alas, the changes had +been mostly to his hurt. Railway-making itself had done +his class harm rather than good, for the new iron roads +linked the country more and more closely to the great +centres of industry. Prices of all kinds of agricultural +produce went higher and higher, but without bringing a +corresponding increase in the labourer's pay. The landowner +grabbed all he could of the augmented gains, and +what he left the farmer took. For the hind was there +not still the workhouse? Yet the demand for labour was +increasing fast, and not all the hungry kerns of Ireland +seemed able to meet that demand. For once Thomas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +and his wife had enjoyed a good year. Was not +Leamington Priors growing a big town moreover, and +going to have a college of its own to outshine Rugby +itself? Surely Ashbrook would benefit from the nearness +of so much wealth as this implied. The grounds for +this hope were many and obvious. Thomas might yet +rent his own little farm, and be independent. His +ambition ran no higher, yet the indulgence of it proved +him to be a short-sighted fool.</p> + +<p>At this time Thomas was an odd or day labourer, taking +contract jobs on his own account when he could get them, +and working for a daily wage when these failed. This +winter found him at work grubbing up old hedges, and +helping to lay out anew some land on a farm of Lord +Duckford's beyond Radbury. He had to walk about +four miles each way daily to and from his work, but as +the days were short he lost no time, and the company of +a fellow villager engaged with him at the same job made +the trudge lighter. And the hopes that lay around his +heart helped him more than aught else, as they always +help us poor will-o'-the-wisp-led mortals in this dark +world.</p> + +<p>Alas for these hopes! Thomas Wanless had not been +a month at his new work when an epidemic of scarlet +fever broke out at Ashbrook, and amongst the first to +catch the disease was his youngest child, a girl of two +years. Ere ten days had elapsed five out of his seven +surviving children were down with the treacherous disease. +His eldest boy and girl had had it years before, but the +boy was sent home from the farm where he worked for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +fear of spreading contagion, and the girl was little more +than nine years old, so that she could not do much to +help the overworked mother.</p> + +<p>Crowded together in the long low-roofed attic of the +cottage, three of the five lay helpless and wailing for +many days. After the first week the other two whose +attack had been slight got out of bed, but were kept in the +same room to avoid cold. The food of all was poor, the +medical attendance miserable and infrequent. Thomas's +heart was nearly broken. All his hopes vanished, and the +old bitterness settled down on his spirit. The rage of +helplessness often swept over him as he looked at his +tired and harassed wife, or thought of her left alone, day +in and out, with those sick children. The little savings +would mostly be needed for the doctor's bill; there was +only the 10s. a-week that Thomas happily still earned to +stand between the whole family and want. Can anyone +wonder that Thomas grew moody, and glowered at the +world to which he owed so little?</p> + +<p>One evening, in the middle of the third week of their +affliction, as he and neighbour Robins were trudging +home together through the perplexing obscurity of a grey +November fog, the latter said—</p> + +<p>"Couldn't we get a rabbit or two, Tummas? They'd +make a nice pot for the young ones, poor things; better +nor barley gruel, any way."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind," said Thomas, in an indifferent tone. +"But where can we come at 'em?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, there's a warren up in Squire Greenaway's fir +coppice to the left here, just off the Banbury road. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +can beat it in five minutes. Come on," he added, seizing +Thomas's arm.</p> + +<p>"All right, let's have some o' the wermin," his friend +answered, and presently they turned off the road, making +for the coppice.</p> + +<p>"You keep up by the fence here, and you'll strike the +edge of the wood in no time," said Robins. "The +burrows lie mostly along to the right. Crouch down by +the holes and be ready. I'll walk round the field and +drive the bunnies in. There's sure to be lots feedin' to-night +in old Claypole's turmuts."</p> + +<p>Thomas obeyed, and the two at once lost sight of each +other. Robins, it is to be feared, had often helped himself +to a rabbit before now, here and elsewhere, but by some +chance Thomas had never yet been a regular poacher. +He could not say why, for certainly he had no respect for +the game laws. Such, however, was the fact, and he said +a queer kind of feeling came over him when he found +himself alone, and realised the errand he was upon. But +his mind was in tone to be tempted now, and he never +thought of turning back. There was, indeed, little time +to think of it, for he was among the rabbit-holes in a +minute, and choosing a handy bush where the holes were +thick he knelt down, grasped his stick and waited. +Presently he heard a low whistle from the field below, but +quite near, and almost as it reached his ears rabbits by +the dozen came hopping up cautiously, and with frequent +pauses of watchfulness. The foremost caught sight of +Thomas and scudded to the left, whither the whole troop +might have followed had not Robins at that instant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +rushed up and sent a batch of the scared creatures right +amongst Thomas's feet. Ere they could get under ground +he managed to knock over three, and Robins himself +maimed but did not succeed in catching a fourth. Two +of the three knocked over were not quite dead, but Robins +at once finished them, and as he did so, said:—</p> + +<p>"Look here Tummas, you takes the two big uns. +You're more in need o' 'em than me," and as he would +take no denial the spoil was so divided.</p> + +<p>Thomas thanked his friend, and stowing the rabbits +inside their coats as best they could, the two carefully +made their way out of the coppice, and again took the +road for home.</p> + +<p>By this time it was very dark, and the fog thicker than +ever, so that they had never a thought of danger. Yet +they had not been unobserved. Tom Pemberton, as ill-luck +would have it, had been passing the coppice while +the two labourers were after the rabbits, and had either +heard their voices or the whistling, made more audible +by the fog. Suspecting that poachers were at work, and +always eager to do his fellow man an ill turn, Pemberton +stopped his walk, and stole along the edge of the field till +he reached the gate, where he crouched for his prey. In +a few minutes the voices of the approaching labourers +reached his ears, and being a coward he crawled along the +ground, and lay down in the frozen ditch lest he should be +seen, but still kept well within earshot. To his intense satisfaction +he recognised one at least of the men by his voice, +as they passed him, unconscious of his presence. Robins +he could not be sure of, but he had only too good cause to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +recollect the voice of Wanless. The two were talking of +the pleasure their families would have in eating stewed +rabbit, and doubtless Pemberton chuckled to himself as +he heard. But he had the prudence to keep quite still +until the labourers got well beyond hearing. Then he +arose and went on his mission of evil. The unsuspecting +labourers trudged home in peace. Thomas with even a +flicker of gladness at his heart, a flicker that deepened to +a glow of thankfulness, when he reached his cottage and +learned that the doctor had pronounced the child who had +suffered most out of danger. She was the youngest but +one, a little girl of four. Before her illness she had been +a fair-haired, delicate-looking, but healthy child, with +bright, engaging ways, and a sweet merry voice, a great +favourite of her father's. Now she was thin and worn, +and her lips had become dry and cracked with the fire that +had burned and burned in her little body, till all its flesh +was consumed. Night after night Thomas had come +home, and, changing his wet clothes, had, after a hasty +supper, gone up beside his little ones to watch and tend +them in the early night, while the mother tried to snatch +an hour or two's sleep. Through these weary weeks +nothing had wrung his heart so keenly as the sore battle +for life made by wee Sally. Hour after hour her little +transparent feverish hands would clutch his nervously, as +she lay panting in his arms, or wander pitifully about his +weather-worn face, her burning touch causing him to +shiver to the very marrow of his bones.</p> + +<p>"I'se so ill, daddy; I'se so ill," she would keep moaning, +and sometimes she would start screaming from an uneasy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +slumber that gave no rest. Then she grew too ill to speak, +and lay gasping and delirious in the close, ill-ventilated +attic beside her two sisters, who were themselves part of +the time too ill to raise their heads. Thomas thought +that death had come for his little girl the night before he +brought the rabbits home, and the nearer death seemed to +come the more agonising grew the pain at his heart. His +wife and he together had watched by Sally's cot till +towards morning, fearing that each moment she would +choke. But about half-past two the breath began to be +more free; she swallowed a little weak tea, and gradually +fell into the quietest sleep she had had for more than ten +days.</p> + +<p>When Thomas left for his day's work she was asleep +still, and he had held the hope that she would yet get +better to his heart all day. So mixed are the motives +that sway men that this very hope made him the more +ready to go after the rabbits. The savoury broth might +help his little ones—and Sally.</p> + +<p>So they were glad that night in the little Ashbrook +Cottage. Sally had slept till daylight, and woke quiet, +cooler-skinned and hungry. The doctor said she would +live yet. Thomas went up as usual beside his little ones, +and told them about the rabbits that Robins and he had +caught, making them laugh at the thought of to-morrow's +treat. He had not waited for supper, and his wife brought +it up stairs, spreading it out at the foot of the bed where +"baby" and "bludder" Jack lay, and then the whole +family enjoyed the luxury of a cup of tea in honour of +Sally's improvement. How little the labourer suspected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +then that the hand of vengeance was already stretched +forth to blast him and his joys, it might be, for ever. Yet +so it was, and thus does life ever mock us, especially if we +be poor. And had not Thomas sinned against the English +Baal. The sacred laws of property had been violated by +him; he had entered its holy of holies—a game preserve—and +must bear the penalty.</p> + +<p>The thought did not quite thus shape itself in Tom +Pemberton's mind as he crept from his lair and made off +as fast as the thick gloom would permit him, to Squire +Greenaway's gamekeeper's cottage; but his heart exulted +at the thought of the vengeance it was now in his power +to wreak. That very night he hoped to see the hated +Wanless locked up. In this hope, however, he was +disappointed. The gamekeeper was not at home, nor +could his wife say exactly where he was. Probably she +knew well enough; and certain gamedealers in Leamington +also were likely to know, for, like most of his class, +this fellow was only a licensed poacher; but Pemberton +had to be content with his answer. He told the keeper's +wife that he wanted some poachers apprehended, and +that he would return to-morrow.</p> + +<p>Sure enough he came, and came early, but the keeper +was again out, setting his gins probably, and had left +word that he would not be back till dinner-time. +Ultimately, Pemberton met his man, and the two decided +to go and seize Wanless at night in his own cottage. +Accordingly, that same evening as Thomas and his +family were enjoying their supper together in the attic, +they were disturbed by a rude thumping at the door<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +and before Thomas himself could get down to see who +was there, the latch was lifted, and in walked Tom +Pemberton with the gamekeeper at his heels. The +latter was a squat, ill-favoured, heavy man, with small +piercing eyes that were never at rest. He sniffed noisily +as he entered, and gave vent to a gleeful chuckle as he +caught sight of Wanless. Dull Pemberton had grown +fat and bloated-looking since the days of the allotment +agitation, but his usually stolid, sodden-looking features, +were to-night almost animated by the leer of triumph +which had displaced the customary sullen vacuity. Yet +he was not at his ease; and when Thomas, divining the +men's purpose, drew himself up, and holding up his +rushlight the better to see the faces of his visitors, +flashed a look of scornful defiance at the farmer, that +worthy drew back involuntarily.</p> + +<p>But the keeper had no feelings, and at once struck in +with—</p> + +<p>"Sorry to hinterrup' yer feast, my man; but we want +ye, d'ye see. God! what a prime smell! Kerruberatin' +evidence, eh, farmer? Ye've been poachin', Wanless, +that's evident; an' the Squire'll be glad to speak wi' ye +about it. Ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>For a moment Thomas felt disposed to fight. A thrill +of fury swept through him, and he wished he could tear +keeper and farmer in pieces with his hands. But that +soon passed, and he stood dumbfounded. Hearing the +strange voices, his wife stole down the stair, followed by +the three children who were able to be about the house, +and two of these latter, catching a vague fear of danger,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +began to cry. Young Tom did not weep, but stole +softly up to his father's side. But a minute before all +had been happiness, such happiness as a family of +miserable groundlings might dare to feel, and now——</p> + +<p>Bah! Why give a thought to such wretches. They +can have no feelings like my lord and the squire, or his +scented and sanctified parsonship. And yet the cold +night wind made these sick children shiver as you or I +might; and the stricken wife, who had caught the +purport of the keeper's speech, was just as ready to faint +with grief and terror, as if she had had your feelings or +mine. Her first act was to protect the children from +harm by trying to shut the door; but Pemberton, with +a growl, pushed her back, and she then gathered them in +her arms, and sat down on an old box by the fire, +weeping silently.</p> + +<p>Still Thomas stood, silent but not cowed, and the +keeper's wrath began to blaze up.</p> + +<p>"Come along, man," he growled, "none of yer +hobstinincy, now. We don't want no scenes here; none +o' yer blubberin' wife and family kick-ups. Come along."</p> + +<p>Then Pemberton plucked up heart to laugh. With a +mocking hee! hee! hee! he said—</p> + +<p>"We've got you now, Wanless, and no mistake, you +d——d old blackguard, an' we'll tame that devilish +spirit of yours afore we're done wi' ye. Roast me if we +don't."</p> + +<p>His voice roused the spirit of Wanless once more. +Clenching his hands he stepped forward, moving the +keeper aside, and putting his fist in Pemberton's face,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +said, in a voice that quivered with concentrated +passion—</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, you black-hearted scoundrel, and +leave my house this instant, or I'll throw you out at the +door. What right have you to enter my door? Be off!"</p> + +<p>Pemberton shrank back and looked as if he thought it +might be best for him to obey; but the keeper grasped +Thomas by the collar from behind and swung him round, +at the same time saying—</p> + +<p>"Come, come, none o' this nonsense now, Wanless. I'll +have no fightin' here, or, by God, if you do I'll transport you, +sure's my name's Crabb. You must go with us quietly."</p> + +<p>At the threat of transporting him, Thomas's wife uttered +a shrill cry of horror, and Thomas himself grew pale, but +he was now too much stirred to yield at once. Instead, +he shook off the keeper's hand; and demanded fiercely +what right he had to arrest him.</p> + +<p>The keeper laughed mockingly.</p> + +<p>"Well now, that is a good un'. Why, damme, you've +been poaching."</p> + +<p>"How do you know that? And what is it to you if I +have?"</p> + +<p>"How do I know? Why, bless my life, I can smell it, +you fool. But I beant here to hargify the p'int. I harrest +ye on a criminal charge, Wanless, that's all; and I've +brought the bracelets, my boy. Just the correct horneyments +for chaps like you, he, he," croaked the keeper, with +malign glee.</p> + +<p>"But where's your warrant?" urged Thomas. "You +have no right to enter a man's own house in this way, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +haul him wherever you like when it suits you to put out +your spites on him. Poachers, faith; who's a poacher, +I'd like to know, if you ain't? Leave my house, both of +you, or, by God, I'll rouse the village. Tom, Tom," he +added, turning to his son, who had again crept to his side, +"go and find Sutchwell, and Pease, and——"</p> + +<p>"Hold hard there, you —— fool," roared the keeper. +"Curse you, d'ye suppose we came here to stand your +insolence."</p> + +<p>Pemberton closed the door and put his back to it.</p> + +<p>"Look ye here, my fine haristocrat," continued the +keeper in the boundless wrath of fear, "look ye here, if +you don't go quietly, devil take me if I don't get ye a trip +to Botany Bay for this job. I'm a sworn constable, and +I've got the justices' warrant, surely that's 'nuff for thieves +like you. Come, farmer Pemberton," he added more +quietly, "help me to hornament this gent," and in a very +brief space the two mastered and handcuffed the labourer.</p> + +<p>He, indeed, made little resistance, for he began to see +that he was at the mercy of these scoundrels. His wife +clung to him, but they tore her roughly away. The +children wailed in chorus, and "bludder Jack" crept +downstairs in his thin nightgown to see what was causing +the hubbub, howling like the rest without knowing why. +But it was soon all over. Thomas barely got time to kiss +his wife, and to whisper to her to tell Hawthorn, ere he +was out of the cottage and away with his captors. All +down the little village street the shrieks of his family rung +in his ears, and his heart within him was like to burst with +grief, humiliation, and impotent wrath.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>That night he was formally committed by Squire +Greenaway himself to be tried for poaching, before the +justices at Leamington Priors, on Tuesday next. This +was Friday.</p> + +<p>In due course Thomas Wanless appeared before the +"Justices"—God save them! and, after a very brief trial, +was "let off," as one phrased it, with six months' hard +labour in Warwick Jail. The only evidence against him +was that of Tom Pemberton, but he made no attempt to +deny the charge, and as the squires already considered +him a "dangerous" fellow, they thought their sentence a +model of clemency. So did Pemberton and Keeper +Crabb. His judges were Wiseman, Greenaway, the man +whose vermin he had helped to thin by just three rabbits, +Parson Codling, of Ashbrook, and a bibulous old +creature who lived in Leamington Priors, a retired +Birmingham merchant, who had been made J.P. for his +subservience to the Tories. Greenaway was violent, and +rather disposed to give an "exemplary" sentence; Wiseman +was contemptuously indifferent, as became a big +acred man and the husband of a woman with a handle to +her name; and Parson Codling was unctuously severe.</p> + +<p>An attempt was made to get Wanless to tell the name +of his co-offender, but that he refused, so he was told that +his obstinacy had prevented a more lenient sentence, +which was false. But something is due to appearances +at times, and even from such divine personages as justices +of the peace. So careful was the "bench" of proprieties +on this occasion, that Codling, on a hint from the chairman, +gave Wanless the benefit of a short exhortation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +before consigning him to the salutary and eminently +Christian discipline of the jailer. In the course of this +homily, Codling took occasion to observe that he had +once hoped better things of the prisoner, but had long +ago been forced to give him up. "With grief and +sorrow," said the parson, "I have again and again +watched his obduracy, and his tendency to consort with +agitators, or worse. His fate will, I trust, be a warning +to others."</p> + +<p>This Parson Codling you will perceive had become +tame. Once on a time he had been almost given over to +agitation himself; but that danger soon passed, and he +was now a proper ornament to and supporter of the +British hierarchy. Its morals were his morals. He knew +no god but the god of the landed gentry. In his youth +the functions of the priestly office had been misunderstood +by him; but he had married soon after we last +met him a gentlewoman of Worcestershire with £2,000 a +year, and that cured him of many weaknesses—amongst +others of the foolish craze he once had that the religion +of Christ was a religion to be practised. He now knew +that it was nothing of the kind. Certain tenets of it had +been made up into a creed "to be said or sung," and a +singularly complex institution called the Church had +been elaborated for the good of public morals, and the +support of the English aristocracy—that was all. Therefore +could he now wag his head pompously at poor Tom +Wanless standing dumb before him; therefore could he +now raise his fat soft hands, and thrust from his sight +with sanctimonious horror that criminal guilty of rabbit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +murder. A stranger, unfamiliar with the usages of rural +England—that country whose liberties, we are told, all +nations admire and envy—might have supposed that +Wanless was some foul manslayer, some midnight +assassin meeting his just doom. Unhappy stranger, woe +on thy ignorance. Know thou that in England no crime +is so heinous as the least approach to rebellion against +the sacred rights of the Have-alls? "Touch not the +land nor anything that is thereon," is to the English +landholder all the law and the prophets. So Codling +cursed Wanless for his crime, and the doom-stricken +labourer passed from his sight.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>MAKES KNOWN THE EXCELLENT QUALITIES OF JAIL +LIFE.</h3> + + +<p>Captain Hawthorn had been duly apprised of Thomas's +misfortune, but was unable to do anything directly to +help him. Because of his obnoxious opinions Hawthorn +was not a justice of the peace; and he felt that any +attempt on his part to appear as the labourer's champion +might only end in making the poor fellow's sentence all +the heavier. Since the Reform Bill and the Chartist +agitations had alarmed the landholders, they had shown +less disposition than ever to admit such a nondescript +radical as Hawthorn into their society; and his interference +in local affairs was so prominently resented on +several occasions that he had almost ceased to attempt +any. He had even some difficulty in obtaining access to +Wanless in jail; but ultimately succeeded, by the help +of a little judicious bribery, and the friendly assistance +of a mountebank drunken parson, who was in jail for +debt during six days of the week, but got bailed out on +Sundays, so that he might edify his flock and keep +down expenses.</p> + +<p>The old man's first greeting to Wanless was in his +customary rough form.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, Tom, a nice ass you have made of yourself. +Why the devil hadn't you more sense, man? Eh? +D—n it, you might have taken some of my rabbits, +my boy, and never a keeper would have said you +nay."</p> + +<p>This was true enough, for Hawthorn had now no +keeper, and, for that matter, little game. He allowed his +tenants to do as they pleased, and one of the deepest +grievances his neighbours had against him, was that +these tenants thinned their game wherever their lands +marched with his.</p> + +<p>To this sally Thomas, however, made no answer +beyond a smothered groan. The man's spirit was too +much broken to bear rough comfort of this kind, as his +visitor instantly perceived. Changing his tone at once, +the Captain bent over the bench where the prisoner sat +hanging his head, and laying his hand on Thomas's +shoulder, added—</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Tom, my boy; bless my life! don't lose +heart because you've been a fool. I'll see that the chicks +don't starve, and you'll soon be out of this, and a man +again."</p> + +<p>The kind tones of Hawthorn's voice affected Tom +more even than the promise. He tried to speak, but his +voice broke in sobs.</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut. 'Pon my life, don't, Tom, d—n it, man, +don't," spluttered the Captain; but, as Tom did not +stop, he grasped his hand suddenly and gave it a hearty +grip. Then he turned and fled, afraid probably of +himself betraying his feelings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>His visit did Thomas much good, and he bore his +trials more patiently henceforth, though the bitterness +of his heart at times nearly maddened him. I can never +forget the description which he gave me in after days of +the agonies suffered by him during those horrible six +months. We were seated together in his little garden +one September evening, the sun was far down in the west, +the ruddy glow of a calm, bright autumn evening fell +athwart Wanless's grey, worn face, lighting it with a sober +brilliance that fitted well the fixed look of sadness that sat +on it as he then told me of that dark time. His voice was +calm for the most part, although full of subdued passion; +and the impression his narrative made on me was so deep +that I can almost give you his very words.</p> + +<p>"At first," said he, "I felt like a caged wild beast, and +could do nothing but chafe. The night in the keeper's +out-house, where the villain kept me to save himself trouble, +with both hands and feet cruelly tied, had been bad enough; +and the nights and days in Leamington lock-up were hard +to bear, but a kind of hope sustained me, and I did not +fully comprehend what loss of liberty was till I lay in +Warwick Jail. For three nights after I entered that hell +upon earth I did not sleep a wink. The very air I breathed +seemed to choke me. Sometimes I felt so mad that I +could hardly keep from dashing my head against the walls +of the cell. Had I been alone perhaps I might have done +it, but there were five beside myself cooped up in a den +not much bigger than my kitchen, and in the darkness I +was for a time horribly afraid lest one or other of these +men should do me an injury. Though in one sense<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +eager for death, I did not like being killed; and when not +raging I was trembling with fear. It was nervousness, no +doubt, but you can hardly wonder when I tell you what +my neighbours were. One was a burglar from Birmingham, +sentenced to transportation for stealing a coat from +somebody's hall; two were miners from Dudley way, +"doing" sixty days for kicking a chum and breaking his +leg, another was a wild, brutish-like day labourer, who +had got six months at last Assizes for cutting his wife's +throat, not quite to the death, and the last was a poor, +hungry youth of a tailor's apprentice, who had got the +same sentence for stealing some cloth. We were a strange +lot, and I feared these men in the darkness. If one moved, +my heart leapt to my mouth; and the horrible language +in which some of them indulged, made my flesh creep. +That wild labourer especially terrified me. What if the +murderous frenzy was to come upon him, and he should +try to throttle me in the dark.</p> + +<p>"After a few nights, exhausted nature asserted herself, +and I slept. Then other thoughts arose in my heart that +were still worse to bear—thoughts about my wife and +family. Sarah had been allowed to speak to me for a minute +or two before I was removed from the Leamington Courthouse +to jail, and she then told me that Jack and Fanny +caught cold <i>that</i> night, and threatened dropsy. Lucy, also, +had had a relapse of the fever. Poor woman, she looked +so broken-hearted and worn-out like, and I could say +nothing, still less do anything now. 'Oh, Tummas, +Tummas, that it should a' coom to this' she cried, and +wept bitterly behind her thin old shawl. It was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +shawl I married her in, sir; and I thought on the past and +the future till I, too, broke down and cried like a child. +But what good was that to her; to either of us? Well; I +couldn't help it.</p> + +<p>"Then she picked up a bit, and tried to cheer me, as +women will when the worst comes. She told me that Mrs. +Robins was very kind, and had come to look after +the children for her that day, having none of her own, and +no fear of the infection, and she was sure that the neighbours +would never see her want. That was some comfort +at the time; but once I came to myself in jail the thought +that I was now helpless, that my family might be dying +and I unable to reach them, raised anew the agony in +my mind. I saw them gathered round our Sally's bed +weeping for their absent father. My wife's weary looks +and thin white face haunted me in the night seasons far +worse than the wife mutilator. What could neighbours do +for her in such a strait; what could I do now? The +thought of my helplessness came over me with waves +of agonising self-abasement and disgust, till my nerves +seemed to crack and my brain spin round. Often did I +stuff my sleeve into my mouth to stop myself from crying +out as I lay tossing on the floor of the den. I would beat +my head with my clenched hands till the sparks danced +in my eyes, and groan till my neighbours muttered curses +through their sleep. Oh, I thought, if I could but get an +hour with my little ones, to see wee Sally and the baby in +their bed, to watch poor Jack and Fan, and help the worn out +mother. An hour! nay, half an hour, only five minutes! +God, it was unbearable; it was hell to be caged like this!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And what had I done to be thus torn from my wife +and children, and made to consort with brutal criminals? +What had I done? Killed three rabbits, vermin that +curse God's earth and devour the bread of the poor. They +belonged to nobody any more'n rats or mice or weasels, +and did nobody good in this world. Why, the man that +had nearly killed his wife was not harder treated than me. +What then was my crime? Was I indeed a criminal? +I asked myself again and again, and the answer came—'No, +Tom Wanless, but you were worse; you were a fool. +You knew the power of the landlords; you knew that to +them the rabbit was a sacred animal, and that they could +punish you if they caught you. You were a fool ever to put +yourself in their clutches.' Ah yes, there was the sting of +it. How could I hope to escape doom when all the world +except the labourers were on one side.</p> + +<p>"But though I saw I had been a fool; that made me no +better in my mind; rather worse; for, as I tossed and +raved in my heart, I took to cursing squire and parson: +I cursed, too, the land of my birth, and ended by cursing +the God who made me. Ay, that did I. In the darkness +I mocked at Him, I swore at Him, and told Him that I +wouldn't believe there was a God at all. Why, if He +lived, did he suffer scoundrels to call themselves His +chosen people, and mock Him by their chattering prayers +and mumblings all the time that they lived only to +oppress the poor. Life was a curse if that was +right.</p> + +<p>"Well," Thomas continued, after a short pause, during +which he leant back and watched the changing tints of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +gold flitting across the western sky, "well, that mood also +passed, and after the old captain had been to see me I +got a little quieter. But the jailers did not make life easy +for me, I can tell you. Because I was silent, speaking +little, eating little, and hardly fit for the task they set me +upon that weary treadmill, they gave me a taste of the +whip many a time, and abused me for a sullen gallows +bird, but I paid no heed.</p> + +<p>"Within a fortnight after my punishment began, little +Tom brought me word that two of my children, Jack and +Lucy, were dead, and that Fanny was not expected to +live. When I heard this news I laughed a bitter laugh, +and said, 'Thank God, some good has been done. The +squires won't imprison them, anyway!' My boy looked +terrified for a moment, and then fell a-weeping bitterly. +The sight of him crouching at my feet, and quivering in +passionate grief, brought me a bit to. A vision of my +dear little ones, of my dying wee Fan, swept over me; +my heart yearned for them, and I mingled my tears with +my son's. I charged him to be kind to mother, and tried +to comfort him. Poor lad, poor lad! He is in Australia +now, and has a farm of his own. The sorrow of that +time is past for him long ago."</p> + +<p>Here my old friend paused, wiping the tears from his +eyes furtively, and sighing softly to himself. The dying +glow of the sunset was now on his face, gleaming in his +silvery hair, and making his sad but animated features +shine with a soft glory. I sat still and gazed at him with +feelings too strong for speech. After a little he turned to +me with a smile, and said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Yes, my friend, that's all passed, and many sorrows +beside, nor do I now curse God as I look back upon them. +But I cannot tell you more to-night. I didn't think that +I should have been moved so much by recalling that old +story. Let us go indoors, the night is growing chilly."</p> + +<p>Future conversations gave me most of the particulars +of that time, but I cannot harrow the reader's feelings +with a full recital of all that Thomas Wanless felt and +suffered in these six months of misery. Three of his +children died while he chafed and toiled in Warwick Jail. +The heart-stricken mother alone received their dying +words, heard their last farewell. Kind neighbours tried +to comfort her. The parson's wife even called, and said, +"Poor woman, I'm afraid you've had too many children +to bring up. I'll see if the vicar can spare you a few +shillings from the poor box;" but the shillings never +came, much to Thomas's satisfaction in after days. +Perhaps Codling thought the family altogether too reprobate +for his charity.</p> + +<p>It would have gone hard indeed with Mrs. Wanless +and the little ones spared to her but for old Captain +Hawthorn. Though verging on seventy, and by no means +strong, no single week elapsed all that winter when his +cheery voice was not heard in the cottage. Often he +came twice a week, but never with any ostentation of +charity. On the contrary, he went so far the other way +as to pretend to take a bond over the cottage for money, +professedly lent to the family, and without which they +must have gone into the workhouse. He never, perhaps, +felt so like a hypocrite in his life as he did when he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +took this bond to the jail for Thomas to sign. Young +Tom was put back to his work on the home farm, +and his wages raised on some pretence or other to +six shillings a week. The dry, old man, so hard and +repellant, had, after all, a human heart in him that my +Lord Bishop of Worcester might have envied had he +ever experienced any desire for such an organ. More +true sympathy with distress was shown by this hardened +old Voltarian since this family had attracted his notice +than by all the squires of the district and the parsons to +boot. It had not yet become fashionable for the latter +to rehearse deeds of philanthropy in pedantic garments. +Hawthorn's fault was not want of heart or of sympathy, +but a self-centredness which prevented him from seeing +his duty, except when, as in this instance, it was forced +upon him. Yet, after all, what could he have done to +help the poor around him that would not in some way +have redounded to their hurt? Charity doles would have +demoralised them more than their hard lot did; and any +opening of the door for them to help themselves would +have brought hatred, contumely, and perhaps real +injury to them and him. He could not raise wages by +his fiat, nor could he break up his land and distribute it +to the people. All the laws of the country, as well as +the prejudices of "society," were against him, if he had +ever thought of so wild a project; which I do not suppose +he ever did. He sat apart and mocked at a world with +which he had no sympathy; whose hollowness, self-seeking, +and cruelty, hid beneath infinite hypocrisies, he +thoroughly understood.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>And this good, at least, has to be recorded of him, +that he saved the family of Thomas Wanless from want, +by consequence, also, in all probability, saving Thomas +himself from becoming an abandoned Ishmaelite. The +sight of his family beggared, homeless, and in the +workhouse, either would have driven him reckless or broken +his heart. From that sight, at least, he was saved; and +Thomas has often told me that the conduct of the old +squire during these six months did more to revive hope +in his heart and keep him from losing all faith in God or +man, than any other single event of his life. Yet had +his heart bitterness enough.</p> + +<p>"I remember," he said, one night as we conversed +together; "I remember the morning I left jail. It was +a warm, May morning, and the air was so fresh and +sweet that the first breath of it made me feel quite giddy +with joy. 'Free! free! I am free!' I whispered softly +to myself, and with difficulty refrained from capering +about the road like a madman, as the joyous thought +surged through my heart. It lasted only for a few +moments. Pain took hold of the heels of my joy as +usual. I was a man disgraced. Why should I be glad +to get out of jail? Were not its forbidding, gloomy +walls the best shelter left for one like me? Why should +I be glad? The law of the land had branded me a +criminal; let the law makers enjoy paying for their work.</p> + +<p>"Ah, no; disgraced as I was, filled with bitter +passionate hate of those above me as my heart might be, +I was not yet ready to stoop to deliberate crime as a +mode of revenge. The memory of my lost children and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +my lonely, heart-broken wife stole into my heart and +brought the tears to my eyes. The four that were left +to me would be waiting on this May morning for my +home coming. I would go home.</p> + +<p>"So I started; but when I reached the castle bridge +my heart again failed me. I was weak through long +confinement, ill-usage, and want of food, for the messes +served to us in that jail were often worse than I would +have given to my pig. The very thought of meeting a +village neighbour terrified me. My limbs shook, and I +crept through a gap in the fence, resolved to hide till +night and steal home in the darkness. For a little while +I sat behind a bush at the water's edge, feeling a coward, +but wholly unable to scold myself for it. Then I crept +along the bank of the Avon towards Grimscote, till I +reached a clump of osiers, into which I plunged. The +ground was very damp, and here and there almost swampy; +but presently I found a dry mound, and there I lay +down, buried from all eyes. How long I lay I cannot +tell, for I paid no heed to time, though I gradually +became calmer. Once again I was in contact with +nature. The air was full of the music of birds, and the +chirp of insects among the grass sounded almost like the +movement of life in the very ground itself. A sweet +smell of hawthorn blossom came to me from some old +trees close by, and now and then I heard the plash of +oars on the river, and voices came to me sweet and clear +off the water. Gradually I became more hopeful. Life +was all around me; the bushes themselves seemed moved +by it as I lay beneath their shade. Behind me the traffic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +of the high road made a constant rattle, and beyond the +river I heard the bleating of lambs. And life somehow +came back to me also. I arose with new hopes in my +breast. All could not yet be lost to me, I somehow felt; +and, at any rate, I would go home, for I began to be very +hungry.</p> + +<p>"I often stopped on the way with weariness and faint-heartedness, +but did not again turn back, and by two +o'clock in the afternoon I reached my own cottage. My +wife welcomed me with a burst of crying. I learnt from +her that she had begun to dread that I had done something +rash. She and the little ones had gone to meet me +in the morning as far as the castle bridge, which they +must have reached soon after I lay down among the +willows. There they sat for a while hoping that I would +come, but seeing nothing of me they crept back again +with hearts sad enough, you may be sure. I was not long +behind them, and my wife soon brightened enough to be +able to eat some dinner with me; but my heart smote me +for being so selfish and unkind as to go and hide as if no +one had to be considered but myself."</p> + +<p>Such in faint outline was Thomas's account of his +release from prison. His meeting with his family was +sad beyond description. In the short six months of his +absence three of his little ones had been put under the +sod. Out of a family of eight in all he had now but four +left. A great mercy that it was so, some will say; and +possibly they may be right. The world's goods are so +ill distributed that death is for many the only blessing +left. Nevertheless, I question if the sorrow of the labourer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +at the loss of his children was not keener than that of +many who need not fear a want of bread for their offspring. +He had toiled and suffered for all the eight, and +the love that grows up in the heart through such discipline +as his is akin to the deepest and holiest passion known to +man. Thomas and his wife mourned for their dead to +their own life's end, because the little ones had been part +of their life. Is it so with you, pert censor of the miserable +poor?</p> + +<p>Though sorrowing, Thomas had yet no time to nurse +his sorrow. The world had to be faced again, and work +to be found. For sentimental griefs and morbid wailings +in the world's ear the Wanlesses had no time. At first +Thomas got some jobs from Mr. Hawthorn, but he soon +saw that they were jobs mostly created on purpose for +him, and he could not bear the thought of living on charity, +no matter how disguised. Therefore, he began to hunt +about for odd work in the neighbourhood, and found much +difficulty in getting it. His recent imprisonment told +against him everywhere, if not in keeping work from his +hands, at all events in low pay for the work. The farmers +had now got their feet on his neck, and took it out of him, +as they alone knew how; for the brutalised slave is always +the cruellest of slave-drivers. But Thomas fought on, +and for the best part of a year contrived to exist with the +help that young Tom's wages gave. He did no more; nay, +not always so much; for he and his wife sometimes wanted +their own dinners that their children might have enough. +Still he existed; lived through the year somehow and was +thankful, notwithstanding the fact that he had made no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +progress in paying off his debt to the old Captain. "He +can take the cottage, Thomas," said his wife. "Someone +will pay him rent enough for it, though we can't; but we +can get a hovel somewhere."</p> + +<p>He was spared this last sacrifice, for about this time +old Hawthorn died, and a sealed packet addressed to +Thomas Wanless was found among his papers. When +the labourer came to open this, he found that it contained +his bond with the signature torn off, a receipt in full for +the money advanced, and a £20 note. On a slip of paper +was written in the Captain's scraggy, trembling hand, +"Don't mention this to a living soul, Tom Wanless, or by +God I'll haunt you.—E.H." Thus the scorned infidel was +soft-hearted and characteristic to the last. His estate +passed to a cousin, who soon gave the tenants cause to +remember how good the old Captain had been. And +once more he had kept the labourer's heart from breaking. +The deliverance from debt which this packet brought, and +the prodigious wealth a £20 note appeared to be to +Thomas, renewed his courage and made him resolve to +strike further afield in search of better paid labour. +Railway making was at its height all over the country, +and he had often thought of becoming a navvy. Now +he decided to be one if he could get work on the line +down Worcester way. A bit of that line came within +fifteen miles of Ashbrook, and he might therefore see his +family now and then at least Young Tom was to stay +at home, and the 5s. a-week, to which his wages was +reduced after old Hawthorn's death, would help to keep +house till work was found by his father. The £20 was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +not to be touched till the very last extremity, and in the +meantime Thomas put it in as a deposit in a savings +bank at Stratford-on-Avon. He would not deposit it in +Warwick lest questions might be asked, and the Captain's +dying command be in consequence disobeyed.</p> + +<p>The new plans succeeded better almost than Thomas +had hoped. He got work on the railway; it was very +hard work, but the wages were good; at first he only got +18s. per week, and he began by stinting himself in order +to send 10s. of this home; but he soon found that to be a +mistake. His work demanded full vigour of body, +and to be in full vigour he must be well fed. The other +men had meat of some kind three times a day, and Thomas +followed their example, with the best results. Not only +did he stand by his work with the rest, but he displayed +such energy and intelligence that within a few weeks he +obtained charge of the work in a deep cutting at 28s. per +week. Of this he saved from 12s. to 14s. a-week, after +paying for clothes, lodgings, and food. It seemed very +little, and he grudged much the cost of his own living; +but there was no help for it. Besides, what he saved now +was more than all he earned in Ashbrook, except for a +few weeks during harvest. Much reason had he to thank +the dairyman's wife for feeding him in his youth so as to +fit him now for a navvy's toil.</p> + +<p>Truly the life was rough, and little to Wanless' liking, +yet he worked with a heart and hope rarely his before. +Altogether this job lasted for two years, and regularly all +that time Thomas went home once a month with his +savings. Sometimes he had more than 20 miles to walk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +each way, but he had health, and never failed. Starting on +Saturday evenings, in wet weather and dry, summer and +winter, he would reach home early on Sunday morning, +when after a good sleep, he passed a few happy hours, +and then started on the Sunday afternoon for his work +again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>IS OF THE NATURE OF A SERMON.</h3> + + +<p>During these two years the attitude of Thomas's mind +changed much towards society and its institutions. He +may be said for the first time to have become a religious +man, and his religion was of the simpler and more unsophisticated +type which comes to a man who knows little +of dogma, but much of the contents of the Bible. That +book was studied by him as something fresh and altogether +new on the lonely Sundays he passed amongst the navvies. +He took to it at first more because he had no other book +to read, but it laid hold of his imagination after a time, +and he began to test the world around him by the lofty +morality of the New Testament. In due course the +thoughts that burned within him found utterance and +infected some of his fellow workmen. Almost before he +was aware a certain following gathered round him. +They drew together in the parlour of the inn, which most +of the navvies frequented, and discussed things political +and religious on the Saturday and Sunday nights.</p> + +<p>The wilder spirits soon nicknamed Thomas and his +friends the Saints, and he himself went by the sobriquet of +Methody Tom; but, though jeered at and sometimes +cursed by the wilder sort, their influence spread, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +radical views of society were canvassed among these +navvies with a freedom that would have made parson and +squire alike shiver with horror had they known. But +they did not know. How could they? Such creatures +as navvies were not, strictly speaking, human at all. +They lived beyond the pale, like the Irish ancestors of +many among them, and were essentially of the nature of +wild beasts, for whom the policeman's baton or the soldier's +musket was the only available moral force.</p> + +<p>No parson ever looked near that community of busy +workers, whose strong backed labour was swiftly altering +the physical conditions of modern civilisation, and calling +a new world into being for squire and trader alike. Nay, +I am wrong. Thomas informed me that a parson did +go astray among the workmen in the cutting of which he +had charge. A poor, deluded young curate came round +once distributing tracts. The fervour of a yesterday's ordination +was upon him, and shone in the rigorous cut of his +garments. He thought he might do the navvies good by the +sight of him, and bless them with his tracts. But his visit +was a failure, and his reception rough. Thomas declared +that he felt sorry for the poor fellow, and yet +could not refrain from joining in the laugh at his expense. +One sturdy northerner, to whom he handed a tract, protested +loudly that he "hadn't done nothing to be +summonsed for," and when the curate blandly explained +that it was a tract, he blessed his stars, and swore that +he "took the chap for one of the new peelers." Another +was of an opinion that "the parson had a mighty easy +job of it," and suggested his taking a turn at the pick;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +while one more blasphemous than the rest, declared that +he didn't know who the Lord Jesus might be, and didn't +care; but, in his opinion, it was d——d impudent of him +to send any of his flunkeys down their way "a spyin' +and a pryin'." They chaffed the poor man about his +clothes; begged a yard or two of the tail of his coat to +mend their Sunday breeches with; explained how much +better he could walk in a short jacket; wanted to know +why he wore a white choker—and altogether made such +a fool of the poor wretch that he soon turned and fled, +amid their jeers and laughter.</p> + +<p>That was the only time they ever saw a parson of +the Church during these two years; and no doubt this +poor curate felt that they were a reprobate crew whom +the Church did quite right to abandon to their fate. It +is so much pleasanter and easier to play at pietism +amongst well-bred, comfortable people "of good society" +than to save souls. The sweet order of a gorgeous +ritual, the vanities of richly-embroidered garments, +squabbles about archaic rites as worthless as an Egyptian +mummy—these things are more valuable to the modern +parson, and more pleasing in the sight of his God, than +the lives of such men as Wanless and his fellow-labourers. +For the parson's God is the God of the rich, to whom +gorgeous ritual and sensuous music are necessary as +foretastes of the blessedness of an æsthetic paradise.</p> + +<p>So be it: far be it from me to question the taste of +parson or parson's following. They can go their own +way, only it may be permitted to one to point out that +outside their charmed circle there are forces at work, before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +the power of which their fair fabric may yet crumble and +disappear like sand heaps before the rushing tide. +Thomas Wanless and his friends were rude and unlettered, +but they had definite ideas enough, and a wild sense of +justice. In their dim way they tried to fit together the +various parts of the human life that lay around them, +and failing to do so, as better than they have failed, they +came to the conclusion that they and their class were +cheated by the rest. Democracy, communism, subversive +ideas of all kinds, therefore, found currency among them, +as in ever-growing volume they find currency now. +Imagine if you can these men trying to evolve the +prototype of a modern Lord Bishop, in lawn sleeves and +pompous state, from the simple records of the New +Testament. Can you wonder at their failure in that +instance, or in many such like? Where could they find +church or chapel that was no respecter of persons? in +which the possession of money and power was not the +ultimate test of true godliness? Is it astonishing that in +placing the ideal and actual side by side, these men +should have come to the conclusion that the actual was +a fraud: that the whole basis of modern society was +corrupt?</p> + +<p>Do not, I beseech you, pass lightly by the doings of +these men, most sublime Lord Bishops, most serene +peers of the realm, smug buyers of county votes. These +ideas are spreading all around you. Few possessed them +fifty years ago among the agricultural poor; but there, +as elsewhere, democracy is getting educated, is awaking +to the reality of things, and will make its feelings known<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +to you in a manner you little dream of one of these days. +Your Olympus will prove but a molehill when the earth +shakes with the onset of the millions on whose necks +you have sat all these ages. Titles are a mockery, +hereditary dignities a contempt, in the eyes of men who +live face to face with the hard realities of existence. A +new life is abroad in the world. The image-breaker is +exalted above my Lord Bishop in all his glory of lawn +sleeves and piety in uniform by men like Wanless and his +friends. They want to know, not what part "my lord" +professes to act, what creed this or that snug Church dignitary +chants or drones; but what his life is worth? What +are you? in short, is the question, not what you give yourself +out to be; and, depend upon it, if the answer is +unsatisfactory, you and your hypocrisies will disappear +together.</p> + +<p>Nothing struck me so forcibly in my intercourse with +Wanless as the extraordinary bitterness with which he +spoke of the English Church. To it he seemed in his +later life to have transferred the greater part of his +hatred of the landed gentry. He viewed it as an +organised blasphemy, and worse than that, as the jailor, +so to say, by whom the chains of a miserable captivity +had been rivetted for ages on the limbs of the toiling poor. +The ground for this attitude of mind on the part of the +labourer was easily discovered. He read his Bible much, and +endeavoured to fit its precepts and the example of its greatest +characters to the life around him, and of course he failed. +The more he tried to bring together the presentment of +Christianity afforded by the modern Church and teaching of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +the New Testament, the more he saw their divergencies. +This set him pondering, and he soon came to the conclusion +that this modern institution was not Christian at all, but +Pagan. It was a department of State, paid by the State, +and employed by it for the purpose of deluding the people +into the belief that the existing order of life was divinely +appointed. How effectively it had done this work, he said, +let history show. The clergy had aided and abetted the +gentry in all their robberies of the people; it had been the +instrument of many flagrant thefts of endowments left for +the education of the poor; there never had been a reform +proposed calculated to benefit the people that had not been +ardently opposed by this organised band of hypocrites, +and no class of the community was so habitually, so +flagrantly selfish as preachers. Take them all in all, +Thomas Wanless declared, the people who preached for a +trade, be they dissenters or Anglican, gave him a lower +idea of human nature than any navvy he ever met. "Their +trade makes them bad," he often declared; "and I suppose +I ought to pity the miserable wretches, but they do so much +mischief that I really cannot."</p> + +<p>Once I recollect urging the commonplace argument +that there were many good men among them, but he +caught me up short with—</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I admit all that; but that proves nothing in +favour of either the Church or the parson's trade. These +men would have been good anywhere, as Papists, +Mohamedans, or Hindus, just as certainly as in church or +chapel. It is their nature to, and they cannot help it. +But their very goodness is a curse to people, sir—yes, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +curse, for they prop up fabrics and institutions that but +for them would long ago have been too rotten to stand."</p> + +<p>Thus it will be seen that Wanless, though in his way a +profoundly religious man, was in no sense a sectary. He +was in fact ranged among the iconoclasts. He sighed for +a living faith, not a dead creed; and were he living to-day +he would certainly give his hearty support to that band +of men who wage war on the shams of modern creeds, +who mock unceasingly at the disgusting spectacle of men +who call themselves disciples of Christ wrangling over the +cut and embroidery of garments, and trying to make themselves +martyrs for the sake of a candle or two. The tractarian +movement attracted Thomas's attention in a dim way, +and he was amused at the frightful din made by the conversions +to Romanism which accompanied that curious +upheaval of mediævalism. Not that he understood much +of the meaning of what was going on. It was not worth +discovering, he said; but he was amused over it, and +roundly declared that for this and all other ills of the +Church there was but one cure—to take away its money. +"Let these parsons try living by faith," he would often +exclaim. "If they believe in God as they say, why do they +not trust him for a living? Their proud stomachs would +come down a bit if they are just turned adrift in a body +and let shift for themselves. But Lord, what a howl they'll +make if the people get up and say we'll have no more of +your mummeries, we want our money for a better purpose. +They won't think much about God then, I can tell you. +It will be every man for himself, and who can grab the +most. I never have any patience with parsons, never. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +are bad from the beginning, bad all through, self-deluders +and misleaders of others at the best, and at the worst—well, +not much more except in degree."</p> + +<p>"These are the mere ravings of an ignorant peasant," +most readers will exclaim. I do not deny that in a certain +sense they may seem only that. Yet look around and +consider the signs of the times before you dismiss these +things as of no significance. What means the spread of +secularism amongst the working classes of the present day, +the contempt for religion and parsons which most of them +display? Is it not a most ominous indication of future +trouble for serene lord bishops and their brood when events +bring them face to face with the people? I do not admire +Charles Bradlaugh's teaching on many points; but I cannot +deny the power that he and such as he wield on the +common people. It is a power that increases with the +spread of education; and what does it betoken? Only this; +that in time, for one man among the peasantry who now +thinks like Thomas Wanless there will be tens of thousands. +The churches and chapels themselves, with their exceedingly +worldly respectability, produce these men more +certainly than all the teachings of the Bradlaughs; nay, +Bradlaugh himself is directly the product of a corrupt, +time-serving and utterly blasphemous church organisation. +Therefore be not too contemptuous of sentiments like +those of this peasant. They are significant of many +things—of a coming democracy that will at least try to +burn up the rottenness of our modern ultra Pagan-civilization.</p> + +<p>On other questions than those of Church and State the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +opinions of Thomas Wanless were equally uncompromising, +and, perhaps, equally impracticable. His intelligence +was far deeper than his reading, and much of his political +economy, as well as of his code of social morals, was +taken from the Bible. To my thinking he could have +gone to no better book, but I am also free to admit that +his too exclusive study of it gave a quaint and sometimes +impracticable turn to his conceptions that may lead many +to have a poor opinion of his wisdom.</p> + +<p>On the land question, for example, he grew to be a +kind of disciple of Moses. He would have had the whole +country parcelled out amongst the people—each family +enjoying the inalienable right to a certain bit of the soil. +The year of jubilee was also, in his eyes, a most merciful +and just provision for freeing the unfortunate, or the +children of the spendthrift, from the grasp of the usurer—always +the most relentless of men—and he often +exclaimed—"How much better my lot would have been +to-day had a jubilee year brought back to me and mine +the land my grandfathers sacrificed in the stress of hard +times." And not to land only would he have applied this +principle, but to all kinds of indebtedness. "A limit of +time should be fixed," he said, "beyond which the debtor +should be free from his debt, unless he had committed +a crime." The national debt itself he would have treated +on this principle; and few things excited his wrath more +quickly than any mention of the heavy burden which the +consolidated debt continued to be to the English people. +In national matters he would have had no debt remaining +beyond 30 years, on the principle that it was a crime to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +cast the burdens of the present on posterity. Freedom +to borrow indefinitely was in his eyes, moreover, the cause +of much abominable robbery and crime. Next to the +Church, however, the object of his deepest hatred and +strongest contempt was modern kingship; and here again +his inspiration was drawn from the Bible. He told me +that he often read Samuel's description of the curse of +kingship to his children on Sunday evenings, with a view +to make them proper Republicans; and his greatest +interest in modern history consisted in tracing the working +of this curse in England for the last 200 years. To +this evil principle he declared that we owed most of our +social miseries, all our wars of aggression, our national +debt, our social corruptions, our bad land laws, our +standing army, and perhaps even our Established Church, +with all its crop of spiritual, moral, and social perversions.</p> + +<p>It is easy to understand how a man holding opinions +like these should exercise a tremendous influence on the +better class of his fellow-workmen. To those who +gathered about him in the evenings he was never weary +of enlarging on topics like these; and had the nature of +the work in hand kept the men permanently together, +Thomas must in time have appeared as the leader of a +formidable school of democrats. But the navvy is here +to-day and gone to-morrow, and the seed which Thomas +sowed was scattered far and wide ere two years were +over. The good he did is therefore untraceable, yet +doubtless his work bore fruit in ways and places unseen, +and in after days may have increased the receptivity of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +the labouring poor after a fashion that the modern +agitator thought due wholly to his own exertions.</p> + +<p>Over the wild Irishmen who formed the majority of the +gangs on the line Thomas never obtained any influence; +and, in his opinion, they were either a race of men bad +from its very beginning, or whose nature had been warped +and debased by a long course of shameful tyranny and +deep-rooted habits of submission to degrading superstitions. +However produced, the Irish, in his esteem, +were wretched creatures. They lacked honesty and +independence, and would beg like pariahs one hour from +a man whom they would treacherously murder the next +in their drunken furies. More than once he had the +greatest difficulty in keeping clear of the devastating +fights with which these wild men of the west were in the +habit of finishing up their drunken revels, and once he, +and the more respectable men who followed him, had to +arm themselves and help to protect some villages in the +neighbourhood of the line from being stormed and sacked +by a squad of Irishmen out for a spree. Life surrounded +by such elements was dreary at the best, and, good though +the wages might be, Thomas was not sorry when the job +was finished, and the way open for him to return once +more to his own little cottage in Ashbrook.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>MAY INDICATE TO THE READER, AMONGST OTHER +THINGS, SOME OF THE ADMIRABLE ARRANGEMENTS +WHEREBY ENGLAND OBTAINS MEN FOR A STANDING +ARMY.</h3> + + +<p>Had Thomas Wanless known what was in store for him +in the future he might have elected to leave Ashbrook +for ever, and continue the life of a railway navvy. As +such his pay was good, and by thrift he might save +enough money either to venture on small contracts for +himself, or start some kind of business in one of the +growing midland towns. But Thomas did not consider +these possibilities. The life he led grew more and more +repulsive to him as time went on; and he yearned unceasingly +for the quietude of his native village, and for +his own fireside peace. Besides, he hungered to get +back to work on the land. If he could not get fields of +his own to till, at least he might hope to again help to +till the fields of others, and to watch the corn bloom and +ripen as of yore.</p> + +<p>So when the local bit of railway was made, Thomas +came home to Ashbrook, and once more went abroad +among his neighbours; once more he accepted the +labourer's lot, with its hard fare and starvation pay. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +returned late in autumn when work was scarce; but his +wife and he had saved money in the past two years, and +he managed to live with the help of what odd jobs he +could get, and without much trenching on his store till +spring came round. Fortunately his son Thomas had +been able to cultivate the allotment patch in his father's +absence, and in spite of the fact that the new owner of +the soil had doubled their rent, it had paid for its cultivation +very well. The growing importance of Leamington +provided all surrounding villages with an improving +vegetable and fruit market, of which Thomas's wife and +family had taken full advantage in his absence. So +well indeed had they done, that he himself indulged +for a short time in dreams of becoming a market +gardener; but he soon found that there was no chance +for him in that direction. He might get work from the +farmers around, but no landlord would rent him the few +necessary acres. A broken man when he left Ashbrook +to become a navvy; his absence had not improved his +position. On the contrary, the parish magnates rather +looked upon him as a greater black sheep than ever. +The old ideas about the rights of landowners to the +labour of the hind, as well as to the lion's share of the +products of that labour, had by no means died out, and it +was still a moral crime in the eyes of the landlord +for a labourer to have enough daring and independence +of spirit, to enable him to seek work in another part of +the country. In some respects Wanless was therefore a +greater pariah when he came home than when he went away, +and the summit of offence was reached when the report<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +got abroad that he had actually made some money, and +wanted to rent a little farm. Squire Wiseman had condescended +to mention this report to Parson Codling, and +they both agreed that this kind of thing must be discountenanced, +else the country would not be fit for +respectable persons to live in. "The idea," Wiseman +had exclaimed, "of this d——d poacher-thief wanting to +become a farmer! why bless my life, we shall have our +butlers wanting to be members of parliament next." +And this seemed to be the general opinion, so that the +only practical outcome of Thomas's ambition was a +greater difficulty in procuring work, and a further advance +in the rent of his allotment. The successor of old Captain +Hawthorn took this mode of expressing his concurrence +in the general opinion, rather than that of a +summary ejectment, he being a practical man, and wise +in his generation. It was better policy to take the +profits of Thomas's labours than to turn him adrift, and +have to pay rates for the maintenance of him and his +family.</p> + +<p>Against the odds and prejudices thus at work, Wanless +fought manfully for more than two years. When he +could get work he laboured at it early and late, and when, +as often happened, work was denied him, he tended his +little garden and his allotment patch with the closeness +of a Chinese farmer. His flowers were the pride of the +village, and his care coaxed the old trees in his garden +into a degree of fruit-bearing that almost put to shame +the vigour of their youth. Yet he could not always +make ends meet; and when he began to see his little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +hoard melting away, his heart once more failed him. +If the farmers would not have him he must once +more try elsewhere, and again a local railway afforded him +a refuge. He became a "ganger" on the Stratford line at +14s. a-week, and for more than four years made his daily +journey backwards and forwards on his "beat," winter and +summer, in cold and heat, well or ill. In one sense, this +work was not so hard as a farm labourer's or a navvy's is, +but it told on the health as much. Exposure, thin +clothing, and poor food did their work rapidly enough, +and Thomas's limbs began to stiffen, and his back to grow +bent before his time. Like his fellows, he promised to +become an old man at 50, but he would have stuck to his +work had not a sharp attack of pleurisy laid him up in the +winter of 1855, and once more compelled him to seek +to live by farm labour. He could not face the bleak unsheltered +railway track again, and even if he could, there +was no room for him. His place had been filled up. +With a weary heart and a spirit well-nigh crushed, +Thomas once more looked for work on the farms around +Ashbrook. "Is there no hope for us, Sally, lass?" he +would often cry. "Must we go to the workhouse at last?" +"Ay, the workhouse, the workhouse!" he would exclaim. +"The parsons promise us a deal in the other world, but +that's the best they think we deserve here. Well, perhaps +they mean to give us a better relish for the other world +when it comes."</p> + +<p>Thomas had one thing to cheer him, though, and no +doubt that gave him more courage to face the world again +than he otherwise would have had. His precious son,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +young Tom, had emigrated to Australia about a year +before this terrible illness had enfeebled his father. He had +gone as an assisted emigrant, but the old man had given +him £10 of old Hawthorn's £20 to begin the New World +upon. The parting had cost the family much, and the +father most of all; but they felt it to be for the best. +There was no room to grow in the old land; in the new +there was a great freedom. The lad dreamt of gold +nuggets; but the wiser father bade him stick to the land +as soon as he could get a bit to stick to.</p> + +<p>This departure was a loss to the family purse, for the +youth had obtained pretty steady work, and generously +gave all into the keeping of his mother. But Jane and +Jacob were now also out into the world, winning such +bread as they could get, and the family burden was therefore +lighter. Jane was general servant to a dissenting +draper in Leamington, and Jacob enjoyed the proud distinction +of being waggoner's boy at Whitbury farm, now +tenanted by a go-ahead Scotch ex-bailiff, who had succeeded +the Pembertons when they went to the dogs with +drink and horse-dealing. This hard-fisted, ferret-eyed +agriculturist worked his men and boys as they had never +been worked before, but he did not make the hours of +labour so long, and he paid them a trifle better than his +neighbours, whose jealousy and dislike he thereby increased. +Probably he rather liked to be contemned by his +fellows. It increased the self-sufficiency of his righteousness, +and made him the more proud of being a strict +Calvinistic Presbyterian, endowed with a conscience as +inelastic as his creed. Be that as it may, this man gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +Jacob Wanless 10s. a week and made the lad work for it. +Jacob was not then 17, and at his previous place had only +obtained half that sum with a grudge. But then his work +had been a long day's drawl too often, while now his duty +as under waggoner was practically a good 10 to 12 hours' +toil as stable assistant, feeder of stalled cattle, and general +labourer about the farm.</p> + +<p>From these causes Wanless had some ground for hope, +although work was difficult for him to get, and his power +to do it when got less than it had been. And when he +looked round him his causes for thankfulness multiplied. +Was not his neighbour Hewens, the under gardener at the +Grange, worse off than he, with a younger family of seven, +one of whom was an object, and a weekly income averaging +about 9s. a week all the year round. Thomas's old +and tried friend Satchwell, the blacksmith, too, with his +three children living and a wife dying in decline, had +surely a harder lot than he, for all the coldness of farmers +and contumely of parish deities.</p> + +<p>As spring warmed into summer, indeed, Wanless's +strength and heart came back to him in a measure. His +hopes were chastened, but they were there still, and +asserted their life. Good news came from his far-away +son, too. Young Tom had taken his father's advice, and, +avoiding the charms of gold digging, had gone to work at +high pay on a sheep run. Already he spoke of buying a +farm of his own, and getting father and mother and all the +rest to join him in the colony. Surely any man's +heart would warm at prospects like these, and Thomas so +far entertained the project as to talk it over with his friends,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +Brown, Satchwell, and Robins, who agreed in thinking it +"mighty fine," and in wishing that they could mount and go +along. "A vain wish, friends," Brown would say, +"vain so far as I am concerned, for I cannot herd sheep +or hold a plough, and they want neither parish clerks +nor schoolmasters in the bush." Robins felt that he was +too old and too poor to think of the change, and +Satchwell sighed often as he thought on what a sea +voyage might yet do for his wife. But as for Thomas, +of course he could go when his son sent him the money, +they said; and he, remembering that he had still a few +pounds of his hoard unspent, almost thought that he could. +His family should have the first chance, though. Jane +and Jacob might both be able in another year to get +away to the new country so full of hope; and it was best +that the old hulk should stay at home, perhaps. So ran +his thoughts for these two, but he always stopped when +he reached Sally, his youngest living child, and precious +to him as the apple of his eye. She was the fairest of +the family, and her father's darling above all the others. +Her, at all events, he felt he could not part with. If she +went away at all her mother and he must go too.</p> + +<p>As yet "wee Sal," as she was called, though by this +time nigh fourteen years old, had not been suffered to go +out to service. She had got more schooling than the +others, thanks to the better means that her father had +during part of her childish years; thanks likewise to his +partiality for her. In this you will say he was weak; but +let him who is strong on such a point fling stones. I +cannot blame Thomas much for committing so common<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +a sin as to love most yearningly his youngest child; but +I admit that his fondness was perhaps to her hurt. Not +that she was taught to love idleness or things above her +station. Far from that. Kept at home though she was, +she had to work. In the summer season she helped her +mother to tend the garden, and to carry flowers, vegetables, +and fruit to Leamington for sale. Under her +mother's eye she at other times learned something of +laundry work. But her schooling; what could she do +with that? Did it not tend to give her vain thoughts +above her lot; for her lot was fixed more even than that +of her brothers. The peasant maid could never hope to +advance to aught beyond some kind of upper service in +a rich man's family; a service often increasingly degrading +in proportion as it is nominally high. She +might become a ladies' maid, perhaps, and marry a +butler in time, or she might fill her head with vanities, +and in apeing those above her sink to the gutter. The +love of Thomas for his child exposed her to many risks, +when it took the form of getting old Brown to teach her all +he knew. If she could only get to the new country at the +other end of the world all that might be changed. She +might be happy and prosperous as an Australian +farmer's wife. Yes, that would be best; but they must +all go. Neither Thomas nor his wife, who shared his +partiality, could think of parting with Sally. Jacob +might go first to help Tom to gather means to take out +the rest; and Jane might even go with him could a way +be found; but not Sally: that sacrifice would be too +much.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<p>In all probability the emigration plan might have been +carried out in this sense that very winter, if an emigration +agent could have been got to take Jacob and Jane, had +not misfortune once more found the labourer and smitten +his hopes. Jacob enlisted. He was by no means a bad +boy, but like all youths, enjoyed what is called a bit of +fun; and, in fun, he had betaken himself to a kind of +hiring fair held in Warwick, in November, and called the +"Mop." There was no need for him to go, as he was not +out of work, but the day was a kind of prescriptive +holiday, and others were going, so why not Jacob? +Idle, careless, and brisk as a lark, the lad followed where +others led; drank for the sake of good companionship +more than his unaccustomed head could carry; and when +in a wild, devil-may-care mood was picked up by a recruiting +sergeant, who soon joked and argued him into taking +the shilling. A neighbour saw the boy, half-tipsy, following +the sergeant and his party through the fair with recruit's +ribbons fluttering round his head, and rushed home to +tell Thomas as fast as his legs could carry him. The +old man was horror-struck; and the boy's mother +broke into bitter wailing. Thomas, however, wasted +no time in useless grief, but took the road for Warwick, +within three minutes of hearing the news, in the +hope of being in time to buy his boy off. He had an +idea that if he managed to pay the smart-money before +Jacob was sworn in, the lad might escape with little +difficulty. But he was too late. The sergeant was too +well up to his work to wait in Warwick all night, in order +that parents might come in the morning and beleaguer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +him for their betrayed children. Long before Thomas +reached the town and began his search for his son the +sergeant had gone off with his entire netful to Birmingham.</p> + +<p>As soon as Thomas found this to be the case he made +for the railway station, intending to follow his boy without +asking himself whether it would do any good. But there +again he was baulked. The cheap train to Birmingham +had passed long before, a porter told him, and there was +nothing that night but the late and dear express. For +this Thomas had not enough money in addition to what +would be required to buy off Jacob, so he had no help for +it but to go home. This he did with a heart heavy +enough. Well did he know that ere he could reach +Birmingham to-morrow he would be too late. Recruiting +sergeants do not linger at their work, especially after the +army had been reduced by war and disease as it then had +been in the Crimea. Before ten o'clock next morning +Jacob, still dazed with yesterday's unwonted debauch, +was sworn in before a Birmingham J.P., and not all the +money his father possessed could then release him. +Henceforth, till his years of service were out, he must go +and kill or be killed at the bidding of these "sovereigns +and statesmen," whose business it still, alas, is to make +strife in the world.</p> + +<p>This untoward event was in many ways a knock-down +blow to the old labourer and his wife. She, however, +sorrowed mostly on personal grounds, and dwelt on +gloomy prospects of wounds and violent deaths as the +only lot now open for her son—bone of her bone, and +flesh of her flesh—whom she had nursed and tended from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +the womb only for this. Like a good housewife, she +mourned also the loss of Jacob's wages, which not only +helped to keep the wolf from the door, but also served to +nourish the hope that one day all might yet see the new +land of promise. If any savings could be pointed to they +were always in the mother's eyes due to those wonderful +earnings of her boy's.</p> + +<p>Thomas shared these feelings with his wife, but he had +others into which she did not enter. The emigration +scheme had, perforce, to be given up, and that was to him +a far more bitter thought than to his wife, who declared +that she did not mind if they all went, but hung back at +the thought of "putting one after another of her children +into a living tomb," as she phrased it. But the deepest +pain of all to Thomas probably lay in the humiliation he +felt in having a son a soldier. The trade of murder, as +he called it, was to his mind the most degrading to which +a man's hands could be set. He firmly believed that +standing armies were a mockery of the Almighty, and +that the nations which fostered them would sooner or +later sink to perdition beneath the blows of divine +vengeance. Armies led to wars, and wars were the curse +of the world, he averred, and when contradicted was +ready to prove to his antagonist that all the wars in which +England had been engaged since the revolution of 1688, +were dictated by the worst passions of mankind. Either, +he said, they were undertaken to consolidate the power +of a rapacious faction over the lives, liberties, and means +of the people at large, or they were actuated by mere +bestial greed, by inordinate vanity and love of power, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +by mulish obstinacy and hatred or fear of liberty, and it +was amazing to hear what arrays of facts he brought forth +in support of his thesis. As a general conclusion he, of +course, urged that, but for kings and priests, most of the +wars of the modern world would never have come about. +He did not know which cause was most effective, but +inclined to think it was the priests. Certainly the sight +of ministers of Christ so-called, unctuously blessing red-handed +and red-coated murderers by wholesale, and +training their children to go and do likewise, was in his +opinion one of the most revolting things under God's sky.</p> + +<p>You can, therefore, well understand with what bitterness +of heart he thought of the fate of his boy. He brooded +over it; it became more terrible in his sight than an actual +crime. If Jacob had stolen and been transported for +breaking the law, Thomas could not have felt more shame +and humiliation than now haunted him. He almost +cursed his son, and he did unstintedly curse the system +under which the lad had been caught up by the agent of +the State and spirited away from his labour. How it was +done he knew but too well; and when afterwards Jacob +himself told the story, it only confirmed what he had +all along felt to be true. The boy had never intended +to enlist; but the drink, imprudently taken, had gone +to his head. The sergeant first cajoled him, and then, +when he had taken the fatal shilling, terrified him with +threats of what would befall if he broke faith with the +Queen. So he took the oaths and went away to practice +the goose step, and moralise on the oddness of things in +the world. An officer, he now learnt, could sell out at a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +high price and retire; but the common soldier belonged +to the State, and had to be bought back therefrom if he +wished to be free. For Jacob there came no such redress.</p> + +<p>Gloom settled on the heart of his father, and on the +little home in Ashbrook after this great blow, and, but +for the spur of hard necessity, Thomas thought he should +have laid down his burden altogether. Happily, duty +called him to work for others, if not for himself; and work +brought its usual blessing—a healing of the wounds and +a revival of life in the heart. All was not yet lost, +though the buffets of adversity were frequent and sore.</p> + +<p>Indeed, in one sense Jacob's enlistment brought good +to the family, for it gave Thomas work at Whitbury +Farm. Once more, after so many vicissitudes, he came +back to the old place. A changed place it proved to be, +but, on the whole, the change was for the better. The +work was hard, but the farmer was not brutal like the +Pembertons, who had ruined themselves by wild living, +been sold up, and had disappeared none knew whither.</p> + +<p>Jacob himself had plenty of time to rue his folly, and +he did rue it bitterly. At first in Chatham, and afterwards +in various Irish barracks, he spent seven dreary +years, wishing many a time he were dead, and regretting +that his fate did not lead him to India, where a mutineer's +bullet might have ended his career. Possessing much of his +father's energy of nature and many of his father's habits of +thought, the idle and seemingly purposeless life of a barrack +became at times almost more than the young man could +endure. Had he fallen into the loose ways of many +among his comrades, it is probable that he would have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +capped the folly of enlisting by the military crime of +desertion. Fortunately he kept his soul clean, and +managed to utilise some portion of his time in improving +his mind. The mental wants of the soldier were not +cared for in his time, as they have begun to be since; +but there were a few books available in most barracks, +and in Ireland a kindly old adjutant, who had himself +risen from the ranks, discovered Jacob's thirst in time to +afford him some assistance. Save for "providences" +like these, and for the stout heart that grew within him +as he developed into full manhood, Jacob's life as a +soldier would have represented only wasted years.</p> + +<p>Three more years in this way passed over Thomas +Wanless and his family—years marked by no incident of +great importance. The dull uniformity of their struggles +with the ills of life has no dramatic interest. Under it +characters may be shaped and twisted like trees by the +east wind; but the graduations of change are mostly +imperceptible to those that endure the daily buffetings, +and are beyond the scope of the chronicler. Some day +in the lapse of years, a man wakes up suddenly to find +himself changed, and looks back upon a former self with +wonder and astonishment, with thankfulness, it may be, +for the drastic cleansing he has endured, or with that +flash of horror at the sudden vision of the pit into which +he has all the time been slowly sinking. In these years, +while a father labours for his children's bread, and thanks +God that the bread comes to him for his labour, his +children grow up, develop characters, assume attitudes in +the world he never suspects, bringing him joy or sorrow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +as the fruit is bitter or sweet. All is changing ever; life +moves onward, and the one generation perceives not the +path that the next shall follow. Ah! the mystery of +life. What does it all mean? The wrong triumphs +often; the high hopes are dashed; weariness and pain +haunt us wherever we go; the fruit of the sweet blossom +is ashes and exceeding great bitterness; yet we hope on, +plod on, battle till the end comes—and the judgment: +then perhaps we shall know.</p> + +<p>As yet, however, the unkindly blows of a hard fate had +not broken Thomas Wanless's spirit: far otherwise. +His heart might fail him beneath the greater of his misfortunes, +but when the storm had overpassed, his head +rose again, his eye yet brightened, and the laughter of +hope broke forth once more: so was it now. Steady work +soothed the pain of Jacob's disgrace, and in time the boy's +own cheerfulness and manifest improvement made his +father begin to think good might be brought forth out of +evil in this case also. His daughter Jane continued to do +well, and was looking towards promotion in her sphere—such +promotion as consists in being one among many +fellows, instead of the solitary drudge in the family of a +small retail merchant. With the higher wages that followed +elevation, Jane hoped also to be able to help her parents +more. That was Jane's ambition, so far as confessed, and +it did her credit. There might be something behind that, +which was her own; but for the present her father and +mother stood first.</p> + +<p>Then the news from Tom was ever good. He prospered +with the colony of Victoria, where he had settled, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +might in time be a rich man, though as yet his means +were, for the most part, hid in the land he had bought.</p> + +<p>Life, therefore, was not at all dark in those years of quiet +toil, either for Thomas or his family; and yet a cloud was +gathering on the horizon; a little cloud that might grow +till all the life became wrapped in its darkness.</p> + +<p>The enlistment of Jacob had compelled Sally to go to +service like her sister. Thomas yielded to this necessity +most reluctantly, and his friends, even his wife, said he +was foolishly fond of the girl. He would not admit that +it was over-fondness; it was solicitude, he said. An undefined +feeling of dread haunted him about the last and best +loved that was left. She was fairer than any girl of the +village, and without being exactly giddy, she was thoughtless +and merry-hearted; too easily led away; too guilelessly +trustful of others. How could he let this tender, unprotected +maiden go out into the world, and fight her life-battle +alone among strangers? Many a prayer had he +prayed in secret that this sacrifice might be spared; but +in this also the heavens were as brass. The time had +come when she must either go or starve, and with a heavy +heart he gave his consent. It was hardly given when his +wife in her turn woke up to the danger of the step. She +then sought to bring Thomas to revoke the decision, and +try one more year; but it was too late. Sally herself was +now eager to go. Her pride was touched. She would no +longer be a burden to her parents, and must take a place +like her sister.</p> + +<p>"But in another year, Sally, we may all be able to go +to Australia," the mother pleaded.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I can work for money to help us to go there," +was the answer; and the mother had to yield.</p> + +<p>Sally found a place as drudge to a newly-married couple +in Warwick—a young surgeon and his wife. They had +imprudently married on his "prospects," and had to use +many shifts to hide their poverty, lest the world, which +can only measure men's worth by the length of their +purses, should pass him by. It was thus a poor place, +especially for one like Sally, who had been better educated +than probably any one else of her class in the whole shire; +and the wages were poor. At first they gave her 1s. 6d. +a-week with her food, but after six months they gave her +2s., partly to prevent neighbours from gossiping about +their want of means.</p> + +<p>Here the girl remained for two years, not because she +liked the place, but because her parents told her that it was +good to be able to say that she had been so long in one +family. Then she removed to the household of a lawyer +as housemaid, where two servants were kept, and had been +in that place over a year when her father met with an +accident which laid him up for many weeks. It seems +that in building a rick he had somehow been knocked off +by a sheaf flung up at him thoughtlessly before he had adjusted +the previous one. He raised his one hand mechanically +to catch it, and his other slipped from under him. +Being near the edge, he rolled off heavily, striking the +wheel of the waggon as he fell. The rick was high, and +the fall so severe, that, when picked up and examined, +Thomas was found to have badly bruised his shoulder and +fractured two of his ribs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> + +<p>A long and tedious illness followed, during which +Thomas was unable to earn anything. Until young Tom +could know and send money the old folks were therefore +likely again to feel the pinch of want, and it would take +many months to bring help from Australia. Some of the +old hoard was still left, but doctors' bills and necessary +dainties soon made a hole in that. In nursing her husband, +too, Mrs. Wanless was prevented from earning anything +herself. There was no one to go to market with the +little garden produce that might be to spare. Neighbours +were helpful, but they could do little where all alike lived +in daily converse with want. Thomas's master was kindly, +and declared that he would not see them starve, but +Thomas liked to be independent, and took umbrage at the +tone in which the charity was offered.</p> + +<p>Talking of these things, and of the difficulties of the +future, one Sunday evening, when Sally was down from +Warwick, the girl suddenly asked why she could not go +to a better place where her wages might be of more use. +She had only 3s. a week where she was, and felt sure she +could earn more.</p> + +<p>Her parents were for letting well alone. "All the extra +money you can get, Sally, won't amount to much," +her mother said, and her father urged her to wait for +Tom's letter. Who knew that Tom might not be sending +money to take them all away to the new country? +But Sally was positive, according to her impulsive nature. +She was now nearly 18, she said, and was sure she could +earn more. "Besides, mother," she added, "I want to +better myself. I am learning nothing where I am, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +never will, and I hate messing about with so many +children. They ought to keep a nurse, but they can't +afford it, missis says; and I'm sure I'm nothing but a +slave. Why should you object?"</p> + +<p>Why, indeed. There were no good grounds for it in +her eyes, and none tangible to her parents. The result, +therefore, was that Sally sought and found a new place.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>INTRODUCES THE READER TO VERY ARISTOCRATIC +COMPANY.</h3> + + +<p>It so happened that what servants call "a good place" +was not so difficult to find when Sally went to seek it, as +it had been some years before. The growing wealth of +a portion of the nation was telling every year with +increased force on the demand for domestic servants; +and at the same time manufacturers were everywhere +drawing more and more of the female population into employments +in the great industrial centres of the Midlands. +In any case, therefore, Sally Wanless would probably +soon have found a place of some kind in a gentleman's +family; but, unknown to herself, her good looks had +already been working in her behalf. She had attracted +the attention of the housekeeper at the Grange one day +that the two had chanced to meet in a grocer's shop in +Warwick. When Sally went out the housekeeper asked +after her, and told the grocer that she was just in want +of "a still-room maid," whatever that may be. The +grocer gave Sally a good character as far as he knew her, +and said further that he believed the girl wanted a new +place. What the housekeeper heard elsewhere also +pleased her; and in due time Sally was engaged at the,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +to her, fabulous wages of £10 per annum. Perhaps, had +Lady Harriet Wiseman known that the pretty girl who +thus entered her house in the humble capacity of still-room +maid, was the daughter of "that seditious old +poaching scamp, Wanless," as the squires called Sally's +father, she might have vetoed her housekeeper's action. +But that finely-distilled aristocrat did not condescend to +notice such trivial matters as the coming and going of +menials. She barely knew the names of some of the +oldest servants about the place, and when she had +occasion to speak to any of them—a thing she avoided +as much as possible—gave all alike the name of Jane. +She viewed her domestic world from afar. She was of +the gods, and her menials were of the sons and daughters +of men. To her their lives were unknown; of their hopes +and feelings she knew less than she did of the varied dispositions +of her dogs. They were there to minister to her +every want and whim, to bend the knee, bate the breath, +and lower the eye before her when she crossed their path, +and if they did these things silently as machinery, it was +well. Her sole duty was to find them food and wages, and +she kept her contract. But if they failed in one iota they +were dismissed.</p> + +<p>It would be unfair to suppose that Lady Harriet was +an exceptionally hard woman, because this was her +relationship with her household. She was indeed +nothing of the kind. On the contrary, in some respects +she was a kind-hearted person enough, and would for +example have turned away her housekeeper on the spot, +had she been made aware that the servants were badly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +fed or uncomfortable in their bedrooms, or anything of +that sort. Sins of that kind affected the reputation of +her mansion, and jarred, moreover, on her sense of comfortableness. +To have life flow easily, to see and feel +none of the roughnesses of existence—this was Lady +Harriet's ideal. For the rest—how could she help it if +menials were low creatures? They were born so, and it +was for her comfort probably that Providence thus +ordered the gradations of society. She had been heard, +moreover, to plume herself upon the exceptionally good +treatment her servants got, and to declare that she knew +it to be much better than that of her sister, who was the +wife of a lord bishop of a neighbouring diocese, and a +woman of fashion.</p> + +<p>Lady Harriet was, in short, an average sample of the +modern English aristocrat. Nay, in some respects she +was better than the average woman of her class, for she +was gifted with some touch of the shrewd brains that had +lifted her grandfather, the London clothier, to great +wealth and an Irish peerage. In another sphere, as the +parsons say, she might have distinguished herself as a +woman of affairs, but she loved ease, disliked trouble, and +wrapped her mind up in the refinements proper to high +birth and breeding. First amongst these she placed +exemption from all the cares and duties of maternity, +and from the worries of household management. Her +aim was not lofty, and even her ladyship had begun to +fear that somehow her life had been a failure. A weary +look was often seen on her face—visible to the meanest +domestic—telling all who saw it that luxury could not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +insure any poor mortal from care any more than from +disease and death. But cannot one trace the hideous +grinning skull beneath the skin of the fairest and loftiest +in the land? Care comes to all, and sorrow, and pain, +and for years before Sally went to the Grange, the +mistress thereof had felt the worm gnawing at her heart.</p> + +<p>For one thing, her husband, now a man beyond sixty, +was rapidly losing the little wits he had possessed. His +life was to all appearance most prosperous. To the +envy of many, he had made much money through the +railway speculations of the preceding decade; and by +material standard of the time should have been supremely +happy. But he drank and over-ate himself, and his +self-indulgences in these and other ways made him gouty +and diseasedly fat. His life had thus become a misery +to himself and to all around him, even before he had +become really old; and now his memory was failing him, +a sottish stupidity was stealing over his brain, so that it +was with much difficulty that his wife could rouse him to +attend to the most necessary affairs of his estates. +Peevish and ill-conditioned when in pain, stupified with +wine when well, and at all times of a dreary vacuity of +mind, this pillar of the State, wielder of men's votes, +arbiter of parish fates and men's fortunes, was not a +lovable man to live with. To outsiders he might be an +object of pity or scorn; but to his wife! Ah, well, the +servants said she looked worried. Let it pass.</p> + +<p>And yet had this been all she might have been in a +fashion happy, for she could turn off much of the +ill-humour of her husband on his servants by simply<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +avoiding him. Other troubles, however, were coming +thick upon her, and making her look as old as the Squire, +although she was nigh ten years younger. Three children +of the five she had borne were alive—two daughters and +a son. Of course the son, being also the heir, was made +much of, fawned on by mother and menial alike, and +equally, of course, he grew up a remarkable creature. +Who has not known such without longing for a whip of +scorpions, and a strong arm to wield it? One daughter +had married a soldier—a showy man of good family but +small fortune, who sold out, became stock-gambler, and +bankrupt in the brief space of eighteen months; and then +bolted to Australia to try sheep-farming with a few +hundreds given him by his friends to get rid of him. +He had left his wife and three children to the care of his +mother-in-law. The eldest daughter—eldest also of the +family—was slightly deformed, and had never left home, +though some poor curates had cast longing looks at her, +hoping perhaps, that the money and influence she would +have might be the means of bringing them preferment. +But they were not men of family, and Lady Harriet +would have none of them. The deformed daughter was left +otherwise to her own devices; and was probably the +happiest in the house, as she certainly was the gentlest. +These were small troubles too, and Lady Harriet could +not afford to make herself long unhappy over them; but +it was otherwise with those of her son.</p> + +<p>This pampered darling of his mother, this remarkable +youth whose leading idea was that the world and all that +was therein had been created expressly for him—if, indeed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +he had ever stopped in his career of selfish lust to form +an idea so definite—this youth of many privileges, +before whom the path of life was rolled smooth and +carpeted, on whom the sun dare not shine too freely nor +any wintry storm beat untempered, was now causing his +mother more agony than she ever imagined she could +bear and live. She felt she was wronged somehow in +having so much sorrow by one she so deeply loved. Had +she not done everything for him all his life, given him all +he asked, made the whole household his slaves, forbidden +his masters to task his brain with too many studies, +poured handfuls of pocket-money into his lap, and in all +ways treated him like a demi-god? Yes, yes; she knew +that no mother could have done more, felt it in her heart +as she reviewed the past, and yet had not this precious boy +been stabbing her to the heart every day of his life? +Lady Harriet felt that the world was out of joint.</p> + +<p>Others, less blind, will say that this nurture would have +destroyed the noblest of natures. On a commonplace +mind like Cecil Wiseman's its effect was disastrous. The +young man was, about the time of Sally Wanless's entry +on service at the Grange, some twenty-four years of age, +and handsome enough to look upon. When he liked +his manners were engaging, and his conversation not +without shrewdness. But its range was limited to matters +of the stable. He had no acquaintance with literature +outside the sporting papers and some filthy English novels. +French he had never learned to read. He shone more in +the stable than in drawing-rooms, and understood the +philosophy of horse jockeys, or racing touts, better than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +the difference between right and wrong. If he had a pet +ambition it was to "make a pot of money" on a horse, +and if he had not been the heir to a great estate he might +have distinguished himself as a horse-dealer, that is, had +he not come to the treadmill before he got the chance.</p> + +<p>The social position to which he was born saved him the +trouble of choosing a profession, and from the grasp of the +law, but it did not prevent him from being a criminal +worse than many a poor wretch in the dock. A commission +had been bought for him some years before in a +regiment of dragoons, and by means of money he was now +a captain, but there was little about him of the soldier. +When not bawling on a race course he was lounging about +the clubs of Pall Mall, playing billiard matches for high +stakes, or losing money at cards with the freehandedness +of a gentleman of fashion. What leisure these high +occupations left him was devoted to the society of loose +women, by whom his purse was just as freely emptied.</p> + +<p>Naturally a career of this kind cost much, and soon +Lady Harriet was driven to her wits' end to find her son +the means he demanded, and at the same time to hide his +extravagance from his father. The old man was growing +stupid, but not on the side of lavishness. On the contrary, +he clung to his money the more tenaciously, the more he +felt that, and all other earthly goods slipping from him, +and woke to snappish inquisitiveness when his name was +wanted at the bottom of a cheque.</p> + +<p>For a time Cecil's mother smuggled considerable sums +for her boy through the household accounts, and by +pinching herself in the matter of new clothes and jewels,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +managed to keep him afloat. But soon his wastefulness +went far beyond the range of such petty expedients. From +hundreds his losses grew to thousands, and she was in +despair. Again and again did she beseech her darling +to be careful, to restrain himself, to have pity on her grey +hairs. She might as well have prayed to the church +steeple. Cecil abused her, and told her that he would +have money, get it how he might; if she did not give it +him the Jews would, and it would be the worse for her. +Sometimes she thought she must tell his father, but the +courage and truth of heart were alike wanting for a course +so open. Once she threatened Cecil with this dreaded +alternative, and he wrote back that he did not see why +she could not put his father's name to a cheque, and be +done with it. And he spoke of the old man's grasping +tendencies in terms unfit for transcription.</p> + +<p>Verily, Nemesis was overtaking this poor woman, and +bitter care had become her familiar friend, though she +knew hardly the fringe of her son's iniquity. He weltered +in a pool of corruption, caring for nobody, loving no one +but himself, despising natural affection, trampling it under +his feet with the unconsciousness of a demon, and crying +for money, money, as a horse leech seeks for blood. Such +are some of the characteristics of the family under whose +roof the daughter of Thomas Wanless now found herself, +a stranger, bewildered with the splendour around her, +and the signs of a wealth greater than her imagination had +ever conceived.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>TELLS AN OLD, OLD STORY.</h3> + + +<p>Sarah Wanless did not quite suit the housekeeper, Mrs. +Weaver, as still-room maid. She was not sufficiently +acquainted with the work, and got flurried when the +deputy tyrant of the household scolded her, which, after +the first few days, was many times a-day. So, after a +month of this purgatory, she was transferred to the +nursery as under-nurse to the children of Lady Harriet's +daughter, Mrs. Morgan. There her position was in some +respects improved, though the head nurse was a woman +of vulgar instincts, and given to nagging, as women +verging on forty, face to face with old maidhood, often +are. Doubtless she had had her sorrows and disappointments, +and felt that the world had been unkind to her—a +feeling which justifies much unloveliness here below in +other folks than old maids.</p> + +<p>However, Sally endured her lot in hope, and soon +began to find a certain pleasure in her work, for she liked +children. There were two boys and a girl, the girl being +youngest, and at this time two years old. The drudgery +was, therefore, less severe than if there had been babies +in arms, and, as the children were not naturally ill +disposed, though imperious as became their birth, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +and the new nurse soon got on very well together. Part +of every fine day was spent out of doors, and that also +helped to make petty troubles bearable. It is only bitter +care and sorrow that seem heavier under God's sky than +within four walls. At first the upper nurse always formed +one of the party, and was rather a nuisance in her persistent +endeavours to check what she called "ungenteel +beayvour." Her voice was a chorus ever intruding with +"Master Morgan, you mustn't do this," or, "Miss Ethel, +you shocking girl, don't beayve so," and the key did not +conduce to harmony, but, like every other discord in the +world, it deafened the ears that heard, and the young +ones enjoyed themselves in spite of it.</p> + +<p>Nor did this drawback last long, for, some three months +after Sarah entered the nursery, fate, or the spirit of +mischief, ordered things so that the head nurse once +more fell in love. The object of her mature affection +was the new farm bailiff, a gigantic Welshman some few +years her junior, and the prosecution of their courtship +made the presence of Sarah inconvenient. As a stroke +of policy, therefore, she was often sent off with the two +elder children to wander through the park and gardens, +or into the woods, as the whims of the children or her +own might dictate, while the "baby," as the youngster +was still called, went with the other nurse in quest of Mr. +Peacock. Then Sarah was in bliss. She danced along +with the little ones, singing as she went, romped around +the old park trees or through thickets, and often brought +her charges home splashed and dirty, with their clothes +all torn, but in a state of delight not to be described.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +And the scoldings that ensued did not somehow hurt +Sarah's feelings much. Life was strong within her, and +her heart was light.</p> + +<p>All this time, in fact, Sally Wanless was developing into +a lovely woman. Her slim, rather lanky figure grew +rounder and increased in gracefulness. Her face, ah! +how many a lordly dame would have envied her, would +have thanked Heaven for a daughter with such a face! +It was impossible to look on it and not be struck with its +beauty. Her complexion was fair like her mother's, but +her features resembled her father's. The face was a fine +soft oval, the nose aquiline, the brow perhaps narrower +than strong intellect demanded, but high and open, and +the eyes of greyish blue were large and full of dancing +mirth. A certain sensuousness lay hid in the lines +of the mouth, but it betokened rather an unformed +character than a bent of disposition. Under the right +guidance, Sally's mouth might yet grow as firm in its +lines as her father's. Poor lass, would she get that +guidance?</p> + +<p>Well, well, think not of evil now. Try rather to picture +this fair peasant maiden in your mind. Behold her all +innocent as she is, romping through the park with the +children, dressed in her clean, neat, print gown, with her +rich brown hair perhaps broken loose and tossing about +her shoulders as she runs hither and thither, chased by +the shouting little ones. And as you look, remember +that this fair lass was but a peasant's child, born to +serfdom at the best. Between her and those children +there was hardly a human bond.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> + +<p>Think not of evil, I have said; and yet at this very +time much evil was at hand for poor Sally. Just as I +have set her before you, all rosy and bright with exercise, +she ran full tilt one day almost into the arms of Captain +Cecil Wiseman. The captain was lounging along with +his gun under his arm, smoking a pipe of wonderful +device, and with a couple of setters at his heels, who +barked half in surprise at the sudden apparition. Sarah +came rushing from behind a clump of rhododendrons, +and almost fell at the Captain's feet, through the violent +wrench she gave herself to avoid a collision. Cecil +Wiseman opened his heavy eyes, stared in impudent +wonder for a moment, and then, as if moved to involuntary +respect by what he saw, doffed his hat, and +mumbled something or other, Sally did not wait +to hear what. Blushing all over her already flushed +face, she darted off to hide her confusion, followed by the +shouting children, from whom she had been fleeing.</p> + +<p>After that meeting the captain suddenly found his +nephews and niece interesting. He condescended to +play with them so often, that his mother began to take +heart. Her son was going to turn out a fine fellow, after +all, and, poor boy, she had perhaps been too hard on him +for his wild oat sowing. It was part of the education of +gentlemen in his position, and, no doubt, contributed to +endow them with that contempt for the feelings of the +common people proper to aristocrats. So Lady Harriet +was happier. Her son found means to come home +oftener, and stayed longer when he did come. He even +took some interest in the affairs of the estate, went to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +church occasionally, and asked some of the farmers' +names.</p> + +<p>Never for a moment did Cecil's mother imagine that +he was merely engaged in stalking down the under nurse +of his sister's children, and that the greater the difficulty +he experienced in doing so, the more his passion incited +him to acts of apparent self-denial. He grew an adept +in hypocrisy in order to put the girl, his mother, everyone, +off the scent, and it became positively astonishing to +see how his habits changed, and his wits sharpened, under +the stimulus of this now exciting hunt. He displayed +cunning and ingenuity of device worthy of a better cause.</p> + +<p>In early summer, for example, he spent whole +mornings teaching the two elder children to ride, walking +or trotting with them all round the park, and to all +appearance heedless of the nurse girl, who was left alone +with the youngest, when her superior chose to be elsewhere. +At other times, if he met her with the children, +which was often enough,—it seemed to be always by +chance,—he would be busy discussing horticulture with +the gardener, fishing, or going for a row on the pond, off +to the warren to shoot, always occupied, and always +ready to express noisy surprise at finding the "pups" +there, as he called the little ones. When he went on wet +days to play in the children's room, it was always in +company with his sister, who, however, was usually driven +off within a few minutes of her entrance, by the row that +"Uncle" systematically started.</p> + +<p>All this and much more, Captain Cecil Wiseman, the +nobly born aristocrat, put himself to the trouble to do,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +and suffer, in order that he might work the ruin of an +innocent, unsuspecting, country maiden. For long, he +had no apparent success, for Sally Wanless was shielded +by her very innocence, and she was also very shy, so that +it was most difficult to get near her. By degrees, however, +she became familiar with the Captain's face and +figure, and his presence ceased to be either repulsive to +her or to frighten her. Not very tall, heavy in make, +and, with fluffy, sodden features, and a skin already over +red from dissipation, Captain Cecil was by no means an +attractive person. His voice, too, was harsh, and his eye +evil. For all that, patience and cunning carried the day. +Labouring incessantly to throw the girl off her guard, he +succeeded, and as soon as he had done so, he knew the +game to be in his own hands. It is a terrible mystery +this power which evil-minded men gain over women. +They fascinate them, as snakes are said to fascinate birds, +till they become powerless, and fall helpless and abandoned +into the jaws of destruction.</p> + +<p>By slow degrees then the captain drew Sally into his +power, and seduced her. He had stalked his game, with +more than a hunter's patience, but he triumphed. Bewildered, +surprised, horrified, the poor girl scarcely knew what +had befallen her, felt only a vague dread and consciousness +that somehow, for her, the world was all altered, that +where joy and hope had been, there was now the ashes of +a burnt-out fire. Ah, poor young lass, this squire's son, +this noble captain of Her Majesty's Dragoon Guards, had +done his best to destroy you, body and soul, and boasted +of the deed. In proportion, as the task was hard, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +exulted at his success. To destroy the life of a virtuous +girl was almost a greater triumph to him than to be +first in at the death of a fox. To win this triumph he had +stooped to lies black as hell, and cared not. His end +gained, his interest in his victim at once sank, and soon +he hated the sight of her sad, tear-swollen face. Ah, +God! that these things should be, and men have no +shame for the shameless seducer, no horror of his blasting +career.</p> + +<p>But had this maiden no guilt, then? Yes, she had +guilt of a kind. She was inclined to be vain of her +beauty, and her betrayer fastened on that weakness. +His flattery pleased her, till she grew, half unconsciously, +proud that so fine a gentleman as this captain creature +should notice her. This pride begat conceit and a foolish +confidence in herself that made her betrayal easy. After +what her parents had taught her, she ought to have +known better. True pride, a jealous care for her womanhood, +should have possessed her. Instead of that she +grew giddy, and so was allured to her destruction, like the +moth to the candle. Thus far she was guilty; but wilt +thou condemn her, O censor? And if so, what of the +man? Is it not strange that he, so much more guilty, +should go scatheless; that to "society," as the froth at +the top insolently calls itself, this base creature, this +loathsome seducer, should be as good as ever? For +him the lofty mothers of the aristocracy would have no +censure, in him their daughters, should whispers of his +deeds reach their ears, would have a livelier interest. +Amongst most people he would bear repute as a "man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +of gallantry," a "dreadful lady-killer;" at worst, a +"rake" of the dirt-heroic kind that heightened rather +than otherwise his eligibility as a match for the fairest of +the daughters exhibited for sale in the markets of +Belgravia and Mayfair. A man that could ruin a +country maiden and then fling her from him, all heedless +of her broken heart, with no more thought of her than if +she had been a dead dog, must, in the view of society, be +a man of spirit. As for the ruined one—faugh! speak +not of a thing so repulsive. Let her die in the street.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>BRINGS THE READER BACK TO THE RESPECTABILITIES +OF THE PARSONAGE.</h3> + + +<p>After the high-born Captain Cecil Wiseman had accomplished +his purpose, Sarah Wanless lost her attraction +for him. With a fiendish guile he had tracked her +down, and now that the chase was over, the victory won, +why should he bother himself further? Sarah's beauty +was not less; nay, was rather enhanced by the new +sadness that shaded her face; but the Captain hardly +looked at her again. These confounded wenches were +so given to whimpering, and this serene aristocrat hated +"scenes." Had Sally been bold and of brazen iniquity, +like many of the stained ones he knew in the greenrooms +of London theatres, she might possibly have held +this lust-consumed reptile a little longer in her power, +but being only a simple village maiden slowly awakening +to the horror of the fate that had befallen her, the sight +of her tearful face made him avoid her. What had he +to do with the consequences of sin and folly? Was not +the world bound to make his vices pleasant to him?</p> + +<p>This thoroughbred captain in Her Majesty's Dragoon +Guards left Sally then, and sought other attractions, his +appetite whetted by his success. Even as he snared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +Sarah Wanless his roving eye had sighted other +game.</p> + +<p>The vicar's wife, Mrs. Codling, had several daughters +whom, like a judicious mother, she was anxious to +marry well. These the Captain had deigned to +notice somewhat in the course of his long visits at the +Grange while Sally's destruction was in progress. At +church more than once his greedy eye had rested on the +vicar's pew with a hard gaze of admiration, and on week +days his footsteps had begun to stray towards the vicarage +often enough to set Mrs. Codling's brain a-scheming. +It would be indeed a triumph, she felt, if the heir of +Squire Wiseman could be got to marry one of her +daughters. But that was a job which needed the most +delicate handling, for if Lady Harriet got wind of her +designs, the consequences would be more than Mrs. +Codling felt able to face. At the best the parson's +daughter would have been considered no fit match for so +great a personage as this ill-doing guardsman, but, as +things were, the very idea of such a marriage would +have been received at the Grange with unutterable scorn.</p> + +<p>Times were in many ways changed with the vicar since +that day now long past, when his soft, fat hands were +uplifted in holy repulsion of the horrible rabbit-slaying +criminal who stood before him doomed. For one thing +he had gathered a family around him, and for another he +had been overtaken by poverty—a poverty that came of +greed. The living of Ashbrook was worth in money +about £250 a year, and there was a good vicarage with a +large garden and paddock, so that altogether Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +Codling was as well off in the country as he would have +been with £500 a year in town. To this income, itself +above starvation point many degrees, Mrs. Codling +had added an income of nearly £2,000, which made the +home more than comfortable. A contented man would +have been very happy with such a provision, judged even +by the standard of the <i>Spectator</i>, which admires +Christianity with a well filled purse, but Mr. Codling wanted +more, like most parsons. One would think from the +eagerness shown by such to possess themselves either +of rich wives or of large incomes made out of nothing, +that somehow Christianity and poverty are things that +cannot exist together. Luxury is certainly essential to +the true faith of the majority of modern parsons. Without +it they shrivel up, grow morose, full of evil thoughts, +such as envy and malice, and instead of an example are +a warning.</p> + +<p>Parson Codling, then, took the common clerical fever. +During the railway mania he saw men spring suddenly +from poverty to great wealth, and very soon came to the +conclusion that nothing would be easier than for him to +do as they did. Entirely ignorant of the game of speculation, +Codling took to speculating with the fearlessness of +a master in the art, and following a common rut of fortune, +he for a time succeeded. One land speculation in which +he joined, and where the shareholders of a new line of +railway were fleeced of fabulous thousands, cleared him, +it was said, about £1800, and he did well with sundry +purchases of shares. Naturally, success made him bolder. +He bought anything and everything, became an expert<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +user of stock exchange slang, and deeply versed in the +"rigs" and dodges of the share market. Some of the +squires around began to envy him, others cursed him for +a nuisance, but still he made money, and no doubt would +have gone on making it indefinitely had somebody always +been found ready to buy when he wanted to sell. Unluckily +for him, the day came when he could not sell at +any price, and as he had been lifted clean off his feet by +the elation of his early speculative successes, he only +came back to the hard earth to find himself ruined. The +crisis of 1847 did not break out without much foreshadowing +to prudent men, but to the Rev. Josiah Codling it came +like the trumpet of doom. Till the very last he clung to +the hope that a rise in the share markets would set him +free. That fatal October therefore passed like a whirlwind, +leaving Codling stripped of all he had previously made +and some £40,000 in debt. To save him from public +exposure and disgrace, his wife had to part with nearly +all her property in Worcester, and they were glad, +ultimately, to escape with as much as yielded about £200 +a-year beyond the value of the living. Had all the +creditors been fairly paid they would not have retained a +penny, but Codling struggled and wheedled, and, it is said, +shed copious floods of tears over his hard fate, until +pitying people let him go.</p> + +<p>Such an untoward end of the glorious visions in which +the vicar had indulged naturally embittered his home +circle. Mrs. Codling could not forgive her lord for ruining +her, and took to reviling the poor wretch early and +late. The miserable fellow would have borne his misfortunes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +ill enough even if sympathised with. Being reviled, +he bore them not at all. He drowned them in drink. +At first he stupified himself with brandy; but that +proving too dear for his means, he relapsed to gin, and +led a sodden existence.</p> + +<p>All too late his wife saw the blunder she had made, +and tried to wean him back to sobriety. Failing in that, +her pride and cunning came to the rescue. She smothered +her tears and veiled her sorrows before the world, hiding +at the same time her husband's infirmity as much as +possible from the public eye. The lot was hard, her +punishment severe, but she braced herself to it with a +woman's patient courage, and straightway opened her +heart to new hopes and dreams of better days to come. +Henceforth the aim of her life must be to get her four +daughters settled in life. Alas! the settlements would +need to be humbler now than those she had once dreamed +of. The tables of the great ones of the parish were not +now open to them as they had been before her money had +gone, and before Codling took to drink. There was not +even a barrack in the neighbourhood, with its successive +bevies of foolish young officers to prey upon—only +Leamington with its dawdling crowds of nobodies. Ah, +well, the most had to be made of the opportunities that +offered.</p> + +<p>These being the circumstances of the family at the +vicarage, this the mental attitude of Mrs. Codling, who +could wonder that her soured spirit rose once more within +her with a feeling akin to gratitude towards a merciful +providence, when Captain Wiseman came in her way?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +Despair had sometimes nearly marked her down for his +prey, and lo! here was the Prince of the fairy tale. +Dresses were forthwith obtained for the girls such as they +had not worn for years, for happily their mother had still +a few jewels left which she could pawn or sell. And +being handsome girls—two of them particularly so—they +soon attracted a good deal of the roving guardsman's +attention. At first a little flirtation with them gave a +pleasant variety to his existence, rendered just a little +monotonous by the labour of stalking down Sally Wanless. +The shrewd mother contrived that his opportunities should +be frequent. The old pony chaise was furbished up anew +and the girls took to driving the fat, wheezy, old pony +about the country in a manner new and far from agreeable +to it. In this way they managed to cross the Captain's +trail much after his own style with Sally. During that +winter he hunted a good deal, and the Codling girls +developed an enthusiasm for the sport which made them +haunt meets far and near. Months before the Captain +flung Sarah from him he had thus become familiar with +the sight of these girls, and no sooner was she well destroyed +than he began to develop a preference for the +youngest but one—Adelaide or Adela Codling. Miss +Adela was a buxom, roystering, kind of girl, of handsome +features, light brains, and abundant animal spirits. +Already, though but nineteen, she had a reputation +amongst her acquaintances of being what the pump-room +gossip of Leamington styled "fastish." She affected +<i>outré</i> fashion in dress, and was always ready to lead a +revolt against established proprieties. To play the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +boisterous hoyden at a harvest home or farmer's Christmas +dance, where she could scandalise all the sober domestic +virtue of the parish and make every buxom farmer's lass +wild with jealousy by her extravagant flirtations with +the young men, delighted Miss Adelaide beyond measure.</p> + +<p>This free young lady was most to the Captain's taste +of all the four, but her mother felt disappointed at the +preference. It not only left the eldest girl out in the cold, +but made Mrs. Codling's task more dangerous. Adela +had no prudence, and unripe plans might become known +to Lady Harriet through her folly. Besides, her ladyship +would probably be harder to persuade into accepting +Adela as a daughter-in-law than any of the other three.</p> + +<p>So thought the prudent, anxious mother; but she was +too wise to interfere. A risk must be taken in any case, +and she resolved to let the captain have his way, bracing +herself to greater vigilance and higher flights of matrimonial +diplomacy than ever. And she found a much +more efficient ally in the Captain than she had expected. +Men, in her opinion, were never prudent in love matters, +but this man was as cautious as a diplomat on a secret +mission. It did not suit him any more than Mrs. Codling +that his mother should scent danger in his visits to the +vicarage. In such a place as Ashbrook and in ordinary +circumstances all their care would have gone for nothing; +but, happily for their plans, her ladyship did not go out +much now, and called seldom on any of her neighbours. +Her husband, the estate, her miserable son, any one of +them would have given her grief or work enough to keep +her well at home. When she went abroad, therefore,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +it was generally for an hour's drive out and home, or to +Leamington or Warwick on business.</p> + +<p>Just now she was struggling hard not to lose the dream +of hope that had for a short time gladdened her heart about +her boy, and was failing in the effort. Notwithstanding +his long visits to the Grange, his demands for money +continued to be insatiable. He always put his necessities +down to the bad conduct of the Jews. They had got him +fast, he said, and would give him no peace. But as bill +after bill got paid, only to be succeeded by a new crop, +Lady Harriet began to doubt the truth of this tale, and +in her unhappiness shut herself up more than ever. The +Captain had only to spend a little of the money wrung +from his mother in bribing her maid, and he was free to +destroy all the women of the parish if he chose.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>REVEALS THE SORROWS OF A MERE PEASANT MAIDEN.</h3> + + +<p>Lady Harriet did not even hear of her son's ongoings +with Sally Wanless, though to the menials of her household +and the gossips of the village they had furnished for +months back one of the most delightful and engrossing +topics of conversation that the oldest among them had +ever been permitted to share in. It was better than the +most sensational romance of the <i>London Journal</i>; for was +not this drama being acted out before their very eyes? +They took the same delight in it, though keener and +deeper, that they would have taken in any sport involving +the death of the weaker creature, and few among them +cared in the least for the girl whose danger they failed not +to see. Among the young her beauty excited envy, and +they virtuously rejoiced that her pride would yet bring +her sorrow. All, young and old, loved an intrigue for +itself; and would not have spoiled their sport for the +world. The servants at the Grange carried their tales to +the village, and the village gossips drew together in the +fields, on the road, by the pump, at cottage doors, to roll +the sweet morsel of scandal under their tongues.</p> + +<p>All this time Sarah's parents were kept in ignorance +of what was afoot. Neither dreamt of danger to their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +daughter, because neither was aware of the fiend who +pursued her. As for Sarah herself, she behaved better +after she had begun to feel the spell of the Captain's +fascination upon her than before; was more demure and +obedient. This she was half unconsciously, half from a +wish to propitiate her father and mother in view of she +knew not what.</p> + +<p>Pausing not to think, heedless of the smiles and +whispers, the nods and winks that greeted her wherever +she went, all of them signs full of warning to one disposed +to alarm, free, happy-hearted Sally Wanless plunged into +the abyss.</p> + +<p>Ruined and forsaken, she came to herself only to find +that she had entered a new world. Sorrow and darkness +dwelt within where light had been; and around her all +was changed. The silent hints of her fellow servants +gave place to open taunts and scorn. None pity a fallen +woman so little as her fellow women, and Sally's +fellow servants were not long in making her life an +unrelieved agony. The bloom forsook her cheek, her +step became listless, her eyes dull and sunken. She +literally withered before her tormentors, and they pitied +her not.</p> + +<p>A change so great soon attracted the attention of her +parents, especially as for a little time her manner in her +visits to them became suddenly dashed with recklessness. +The wretched girl, in trying to be her old self, was, like +a bad actor, overdoing her part. Her parents grew +uneasy, and the uneasiness gave place to alarm when +Sally grew pale and silent. Afraid to speak, hoping it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +might be some cross in love matters, which most young +lasses experience, both her father and mother yearned +after their daughter. At length the accidental discovery +of some trumpery trinket of the Captain's, which Sally +wore round her neck, led to the revelation of all their +daughter's peril and loss, although the knowledge came +too late.</p> + +<p>The ribbon by which the trinket hung had become +loose, and it fell on the floor. Before Sally could pick it +up, her mother's hand was on it. Holding it to the light, +she found that it was a gaudy looking locket, and +instantly demanded where Sally had got this. Taken +by surprise Sally answered at once,</p> + +<p>"From Captain Wiseman."</p> + +<p>"From Captain Wiseman! Oh, Sally!" That was +all she said; but the tone and the look went to the girl's +heart and tore it with a new misery. Her father turned +in his chair and looked at her for a minute or two without +speaking. She took his gaze to mean rebuke, and +mechanically tried to escape from the house. Then her +father spoke.</p> + +<p>"Stay, Sarah," he said. "Go with your mother to the +boys' room. We must know what this means."</p> + +<p>Equally mechanically she obeyed, suffering her mother +to lead her away.</p> + +<p>Left alone, Thomas said that he did not think of anything +particular for some time. He just sat still as if +animation was suspended, a dull feeling of pain, a sense of +stunnedness possessing his whole being. The fate of his +pretty daughter was before his inward eye all the time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +He gazed at it and realized it, but it did not move him. +His emotions were frozen up.</p> + +<p>It was some time before the mother and daughter came +back, and the girl would not face her father. He rose to +bid her good night. She hesitated a moment and then +muttering, "I shall be late," turned and fled from the +house.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wanless told her husband that she could make +nothing of the girl.</p> + +<p>"I plead with her," she said; "I scolded her and tried +to work on her feelings, but she just hid her face in her +hands, and rolled and moaned like to break her heart."</p> + +<p>Poor, lone lass, her tale needed no words to make it +plain. Already it was known to all the village, and this +Sunday night the hideous reality entered the minds of +her parents, breeding there a sorrow the keenest they +had ever known.</p> + +<p>At the Grange, too, who was there knew not? That +Sunday night Sally was actually late as she had said, +and the scolding, seasoned with brutal taunts, which she +had to endure from her superior, might have stung the +girl to retaliation had not a deeper pain laid hold of her +spirit. She paid no heed to the taunts and broad +allusions of her neighbour, whose heart was perhaps the +bitterer from the recent failure of her own last effort at +husband-catching. A fire raged in Sally's heart that +seemed to be consuming her very life. Her one hope +now was to die. That would be best. As soon as +possible she crept silently away to bed. How blessed is +the darkness to the soul that is ashamed! Sally's grief,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +deep and bitter though it might be, was little to the +sorrow and pain she had left that night in the home of +her childhood. The deathly calm in her father's mind +was succeeded by a storm before which Sally's sobs were +as the wailings of an infant. His spirit had been stirred +to its depths by many storms in the past, and needed +much to rouse it now, but what he had learned to-night +was surely enough. In the darkness of the night the +full horror of what had befallen his daughter and himself +was pressed in upon his thoughts till his heart rose +in bitterness unspeakable. Was it true, then, he asked +himself again and again, that his child, the darling of his +old age, had been ruined by this cub of the oppressor? +Had this blackest of all wrongs been added to all the +rest? There was but one answer, and as he brooded +over the shame and misery that would fall upon his +daughter and on all the family, as he thought of this +heartless seducer going through the world scathless, +passion swelled within him. An impulse to vengeance +swept over him. Had the Captain been within reach of +Thomas's hands then, the old man might have slain him. +Yes, he felt he could die cheerfully for his daughter's +sake, were her wrongs fully avenged. Ah, if he could +thus bring back her good name! But would not mere +vengeance be sweet? To take the scoundrel's life-blood! +He set his teeth, his frame shook under the gust of his +terrible agony of grief, hatred, and shame, and he longed +for the daylight that he might go and find the seducer +of his precious one. The desire for revenge was strong +upon him with the strength of a great temptation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then his mood changed. The fierce fires burnt themselves +low. Weary and exhausted he lay still, and for +the first time became aware that his wife was silently +weeping by his side. He had thought she slept. A +softer mood stole into his heart, but he could not speak +of the grief that consumed them both. In the morning +he rose, weary and sad, to go about his day's work. +Days passed before he made up his mind what to do, +and during these days, his wife waited with anxious +patience, too wise to worry her husband. At last, he +resolved to bring her home. Anger and revenge were +conquered thus far, and love and pity for his child were +victorious.</p> + +<p>"We must take Sally's shame to ourselves, mother," +he said to his wife, when his mind was made up. "I +know it will be hard for you, harder than you think; +but she is our flesh and blood, and we must stand by +her. What say ye, wife?"</p> + +<p>"An' what can I say, Thomas? I've been wishin' her +home ever since Sunday, for I'm sure she'll die where she +is. Oh! my poor darling; God pity her. The sin is +surely not hers;" and Mrs. Wanless wept, but her heart +was glad that the father was ready to shield and forgive. +Sometimes, as she watched the hard stern lines of his +face, or his fixed gaze of wrath, she had dreaded a +sterner decision. But now again Thomas's better nature +had triumphed, and his faith in the everlasting justice +inclined him to mercy.</p> + +<p>As this talk took place on the Thursday evening, it was +thought best to wait for Sally's return on Sunday, rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +than to excite comment by going at once in quest of her. +Her mother had stolen to the Grange on the previous +Monday morning, to find out whether Sally had gone +back, and had then seen and heard enough to make her +dread another visit.</p> + +<p>But they waited in vain for Sally that Sunday. She +never came near her father's house, but spent her hours +of liberty alone in the woods, afraid to face her father, +and vaguely wishing she were dead. Her mother must +go and tell her what had been decided on, after all.</p> + +<p>So on the Monday morning, Mrs. Wanless again set +out for the Grange. With sickening heart and trembling +steps, she crept along the sweeping avenue like a thief in +dread of being seen. The day was grey and cold, as the +latter days of April often are, and the leaden clouds +threatened rain. It was one of those days when spring +has, as it were, turned back to give a farewell hand-shake +to winter. A chilly blast swept along the ground in +gusts, and made one shiver; the world looked dreary +and forbidding; birds were silent; and as one looked +abroad on the cheerless world, and mournful sky, one +grew unconsciously to have a shut-in kind of feeling. If +only a rift would appear in that grey canopy, then one +might breathe and have hope. Who has not come under +the spell of such days? To whom have they not seemed +to increase the bitterness of sorrow, to add weight to the +burden of disappointment?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wanless was probably all the sadder this morning +that the day was sad, though her thoughts were too fixed +on Sally to be overborne by any idle impressions from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +leaden aspect of the landscape. Or perhaps she felt that +the day and her feelings were in wonderful unison. A +beautiful spring morning might have jarred on her spirit. +Spring sunshine is so gladsome, so full of hope, and Mrs. +Wanless had no hope, only a longing to bring her +daughter home and hide her away out of the world's sight.</p> + +<p>Intent on her errand, she approached the house—a +large, square building, with innumerable staring windows +and a bare lawn in front, where a poor woman could find +no hiding place—but as she neared the servants' door +round in the east end of the mansion she paused irresolute. +She remembered the reception of a week ago, the whispers +and nods and innuendos of the wenches who came and +went with a wonderful bustle of extemporized activity as +she stood speaking to her daughter just by the door. If +Sally would but come out, she thought, as once and again +she turned back unable to muster courage, and cowered +by the garden wall, which approached that end of the +house, wherein lay the servants' quarters, with her old +shepherd's plaid shawl gathered tightly round her. But +no one came save menials, out of whose sight the +poor bruised mother would fain have kept herself. The +children of the gentlefolks would not be out of doors that +day. It was too cold.</p> + +<p>At last Mrs. Wanless nerved herself to a desperate +effort, left the shelter of the garden wall, and walked as +firmly as she could up to the kitchen door, and feebly +knocked. She waited a long time as it seemed to her +palpitating heart, but no answer came. Her knock had +not been heard, so she tried again, this time a little less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +feebly. It was no use—nobody minded her. Would she +go away? Nay, she dared not do that. She would wait, +somebody was sure to turn up presently. The resolution +was hardly formed when the door opened, and her daughter +and she stood face to face. A scared look came into the +girl's eyes as she exclaimed, "You here again, mother;" +the blood mantled to her forehead, and she half stepped +back. But her mother caught her by the arm feverishly, +and led her away from the house, saying—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sally, I do so want to see you, but I didn't like to +come in again. Why didn't you coom home last +night?"</p> + +<p>Sally tried to frame some excuse, but her voice failed +her; she turned pale as death, and hung her head.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you, dear;" her mother repeated, in a +dull, mechanical sort of way. Sally's feelings overcame +her. She burst into tears, and through her sobs gasped +out—</p> + +<p>"I thought you—father—wouldn't let me come back."</p> + +<p>Her mother did not at once reply, she was too pained, +and also too keenly alive to the eyes that were at many a +window gloating over her daughter's misery. Almost +roughly she tightened her grasp on the girl's arm, and +hurried her round the corner of the garden wall, never +halting till safely behind a clump of evergreens. Then +she released her daughter, turned, and clasped her to her +breast. Both wept now, and, as she wept, the poor, +stricken mother cried—</p> + +<p>"Ah, Sally, Sally, my pet, my pet, you mustn't think on +us like that," in tones that expressed reproach and love<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +and pity and misery all in one. But no word of reproach +did she utter.</p> + +<p>It was some time before the two were composed enough +to say much about anything. Sally roused herself +first, for she suddenly recollected that she had orders to +be quick back. She had been sent out for milk for the +nursery.</p> + +<p>"I must run, mother," she said hurriedly, "or Mary +Crane will nag at me;" and she made as if to go.</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment, Sally dear," her mother answered. +"I had nearly forgotten what I came for; A-dear! +a-dear! you mustn't stand no more of Mary Crane's +naggings, Sally; an' if she begins to-day, you're to give +up the place and coom home. Now, mind, Sally," she +added, eagerly, "that will be best, give up your place;" +for Sally seemed to shrink from the idea of coming home.</p> + +<p>"But father——he"——</p> + +<p>"It was father as said it, Sally dear. Father says you +must coom home. He can't a-bear to see you suffering +and abused in this big house as you've been so wronged +in; an' ye'll do what father wishes, won't you, my +pet?"</p> + +<p>"Is it really true, mother. Are you sure that father +will let me coom home?"</p> + +<p>"My dear, he sent me to tell ye. Oh, say ye'll coom +home, Sally?"</p> + +<p>"But father'll be angry with me and scold me, mother, +and I can't abide that—oh, I can't, I can't," and Sally +shook her head despairingly, the gleam of hope vanishing +from her eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, Sally, your father wonnot scold ye. Surely you +know him better nor that. He is too heart-broke about +ye a' ready to have any scoldings left, an' he was never +hard to ye. Coom, now; say you'll give up the place, +and it will be all right."</p> + +<p>This and much more the mother said, pleading as for +her daughter's life, and she won her point. Once Sally's +dread of her father was somewhat removed, she caught +eagerly at the prospect of escape from the Grange. Any +change would be like going from Hell to Heaven that +would take her away from that place of torment. So +anxious was she to get away, once her mind became +fixed, that she never once thought of the burden she +would be to her parents. But for the inexorable month's +warning, she would have taken flight that night.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>WHEREIN WE SEE BREEDING—HIGH AND LOW.</h3> + + +<p>Mother and daughter parted almost the moment that +the former was assured of Sally's readiness to come home, +and Sally, nearly half-an-hour late, sped on her errand. +It was with a glow on her face and a light in her eye +that had been absent for many a day, that she ultimately +reappeared in the nursery. Her bright looks seemed to +add fuel to the wrath of the upper nurse, who burst out +on Sally before she was well in at the door.</p> + +<p>"I shan't stand this no longer, miss, depend on't," the +soured, elderly maiden wound up. "I'm a decent woman, +I ham, and don't mean to be disgraced by the likes o' +you, not if I knows it. I've stood a lot too much from +you a'ready, shameless gipsy that ye are. Your hongoin's +is just past bearin', and I mean to tell Mrs. Morgan +this very day as 'ow she must get another nurse an she +means to keep you."</p> + +<p>Nearly if not quite as much as this had been said to +Sarah Wanless before now, and she had borne it silently +with a bitter heart, because she found herself alone in +the world. But to-day she was bolder from the consciousness +within her that she was not yet wholly forsaken. +Driven to bay by this woman's tongue, she turned upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +her, and with flashing eyes, a voice trembling with +passion, cried—</p> + +<p>"And I have stood too much from you, Mary Crane. +You have behaved to me worse than if I had been a dog, +and you're a hard-hearted, selfish woman. What right +have you to trample upon me, as if you was a saint and +more? You've a black enough mind any way, and +mebbe you've done worse nor me before now, for all +your spiteful pride and down-looking on a poor, heart-stricken +girl, as never did you no harm. Shame on you, +Mary Crane, I would not exchange my lot for yours yet, +if it was to give me a heart like yours. And you need +not trouble Mrs. Morgan with your tales. I've made up +my mind to stand your insolence no longer. I'll go to +Mrs. Morgan myself and give up my place, and tell her +how you've used me."</p> + +<p>This unexpected outburst fairly took the nurse's breath +away. She stuttered with inarticulate passion, and +danced again in the agony of rage. A torrent of abuse +was on her tongue, but she only managed to hiss out an +opprobrious epithet at the girl, at the sound of which +Sally faced her like one transformed. Drawing her form +up to its full height, and holding her clenched hands close +by her sides, she marched straight at nurse Crane, and fairly +stood over her with her face a-flame and lips set, every +feature rigid with scorn and wrath. Crane's heart died +within her. She cowered and hid her face in her hands.</p> + +<p>"Say that word again, Mary Crane," Sally demanded +in a low, passion-thrilled voice, but Mary Crane uttered +never a sound.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Say it again, will you!" Sally repeated in low tones. +"Dare to call me that name again, and I'll——" But +Sarah had no threat big enough for her wrath. She +caught her breath sharp, and came closer to her enemy, +suddenly bent down and laid hold of Mary Crane's head +with both her hands, forcing her to turn up her face.</p> + +<p>But Crane would not look at her. With a half wail, +half shriek, her knees gave way under her, and she sank +on the floor wriggling as if about to take a fit.</p> + +<p>Sarah looked at her for a moment contemptuously, +and then turned away, while the heroic mood was upon +her, to seek an interview with Mrs. Morgan.</p> + +<p>That lady received the announcement of her under-nurse +with her usual high-bred indifference, merely +saying, "Oh, very well, you can go." But, as the girl +turned away, something in her manner made Mrs. +Morgan scrutinise her keenly. The girl seemed changed +even to the eyes of the aristocratic lady, and, perhaps, +she, too, began to suspect her, for Sally thought that +she saw an expression of mingled contempt and annoyance +on Mrs. Morgan's face, of which she caught a last +glimpse on turning to shut the door behind her. It +might have been only her own heated fancy, but, all the +same, Sally's brief spell of courage was over from that +moment. Happily Mary Crane vexed her no more +openly, but she took her revenge in secret.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Morgan's suspicions had been in reality so far +excited as to cause her to make further inquiries. She +called Mary Crane into her room one day and questioned +her about "this girl, Sarah—What's her name?" Mary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +Crane for a little time would tell nothing. She now both +hated and feared Sally Wanless, and until she could +discover exactly where the girl stood with her mistress, +she was not going to commit herself. Her remarks were +therefore cautiously shaped at first, with a view to draw +her mistress out. She prevaricated, dropped hints, and +tried to measure the extent of Mrs. Morgan's knowledge +before revealing her own. There was not only the girl +to consider, but also the Captain. It might be more than +her own place was worth to "blab on the Capting."</p> + +<p>Either Mrs. Morgan was obtuse or ignorant, for she +gave no response for some time to Mary's stream of +words. "You see, 'm, as Sarah's a light sort of girl, 'm, +as is allus a-runnin' after the men, 'm. She mayn't be +bad, 'm, but she don't beayve proper for one in her station. +I'm sure, 'm, I've told her times enough as no good id +come of her upsittin' ways, and her ongoin' with the +gentlemens—<i>a</i> gentleman in particler—'as hoften shocked +me, 'm."</p> + +<p>Thus she ran on, till Mrs. Morgan, quite bewildered, +exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"But what has the girl done, then, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"Laws, 'm, 'ow should I know, 'm. Hax herself, +'m, hax the—<i>a</i> gentleman as you knows, 'm, knows +hintimate, 'm."</p> + +<p>"A gentleman I know intimately—what do you +mean? I know no gentleman. Surely you don't mean +Captain Wiseman?"</p> + +<p>"Well, 'm, I don't know, 'm. You see, 'm, I thought +the family mightn't like it——"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That will do, Mary, that will do. I want no more +beating about the bush. Tell me, yea or nay, has +Captain Wiseman been noticing this girl?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, 'm, he 'as, 'm; but I don't think——"</p> + +<p>"Never mind what you think, you are sure of that +fact?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, 'm, quite."</p> + +<p>"Ah, thank you; then that'll do for the present," and +she motioned to Crane to leave the room.</p> + +<p>That worthy departed not quite satisfied. She had +doubts as to whether her mistress liked to know the +truth, doubted also if she had done Sarah as much harm +as she wished to. But she showed none of these mental +clouds in the servants' hall. There, in Sally's absence, +she was triumphant, and the "said she's" and "said I's" +with which the tale was embellished, served to emphasise +the triumph which she indicated that the interview had +been to her diplomatic skill. She only confessed to one +regret. Mrs. Morgan had somehow cut the interview +short, "just when I was a-goin' to tell her all about +it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Morgan, however, did not need to be told all +about it. She knew the habits of her brother, and, her +interest once aroused, managed to put this and that +together so well as to arrive before many minutes at a +tolerably shrewd conclusion. "This, then," she said to +herself, "is the secret of Captain Cecil's wonderful reform." +That reflection at once brought her face to face with the +question—Shall I or shall I not tell my mother? It was +not a question so easily answered as it seemed. Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +Morgan was inclined to do it from her dislike of the +Captain, who had always absorbed too much of his +mother's attention—ought I to have said love?—for the +good feelings of the rest of the family. But, then, this +very preference made it difficult to decide. She might +enrage her mother, and there were family money matters +yet to settle, in the disposition of which a mother's +displeasure might cause permanent changes. For these +and other reasons, "too numerous to mention," Mrs. +Morgan hesitated. She would wait on events, on +her mother's moods and her own; so avoiding a +decision.</p> + +<p>That seemed easiest, and yet it proved the hardest +course to Mrs. Morgan, who had quite a vulgar woman's +delight in retailing scandal. Before a week was out she +found it expedient to tell all. Her mother and she held +a long conference in secret on the Friday after Sally had +given up her place. What they said to each other will +never be known; but one decision came of it that was at +once acted upon. Sarah Wanless was dismissed that +night by the orders of Lady Harriet, who sent her own +maid with the message. "Jane," as she was called, +delivered it with curt insolence, and at the same time +flung a month's wages, which Lady Harriet had likewise +sent, on the table, with a significant gesture, as if to say, +"You are too unclean, Sally Wanless, to be touched by +a superior person like me."</p> + +<p>When Sarah went home, which she did as soon as her +small box was packed up, and told her parents that she +was dismissed, her father was so indignant that he wanted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +to send the extra weeks' wages back. His wife, however, +persuaded him that it was better to let things alone. +"The money," she said, "is her right, and can do us no +harm; and Sally is well out of <i>that</i> den anyway." And +Mrs. Wanless was right.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>THROWS A LITTLE LIGHT ON A SUBJECT SOMETIMES +UNCTUOUSLY CONDESCENDED UPON BY PREACHERS +OF "WORDS."</h3> + + +<p>I wonder where Christians find authority for our modern +treatment of illegitimacy? Preachers of all sects are +never tired of telling us that they preach peace and goodwill +among men. Their religion is to redeem all wrongs, +to make mankind better, to lift the fallen, and cheer the +broken-hearted. So at least they say, but when we look +for deeds, we do not find many in this lower world. The +fulfilment of the Christian ideal is prudently (?) adjourned +to the next, above or below. Wherever one turns in +contemplation of modern Christianity, one finds a ghastly +divergence between its professions and its practice, and at +no point is this more visible than in the behaviour of the +Churches towards women who have sinned. Taking their +tone from a corrupt society, which desires to enjoy its +vices, and to prey upon its women without taking upon +itself responsibilities which the poor besotted Turk even +never dreams of shirking, the dispensers of the gospel of +peace lead the chorus of reprobation which is heaped upon +the woman, who, like the virgin mother so many of them +profess to worship, bears the burden of maternity in shame<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +and loneliness. No distinction is drawn between woman +and woman—rarely or ever is the guilt of the man +considered; the duties of fatherhood can be neglected by +the seducer with tacit, nay, often with the full approbation +of society and the Churches. But on the woman a +penalty falls that is worse than death. She has yielded +to the seducer, and henceforth she must be pressed down +and cast out, unless—and the distinction is important—she +be a sinner of the highest caste in society, when the +sin may be covered with lies as with an embroidered +garment; or, unless she belong to the lowest, where the +difference between morality and immorality is too often +nearly indistinguishable—thirteen centuries of more or less +well-paid-for priestly instruction notwithstanding. Speaking +broadly, however, the law of social life condemns the +"unattached" woman and her offspring to obloquy and +degradation, and it does this not merely without the protest +of the Churches, but by their full sanction. For ages priests +of all hues have arrogated to themselves the power of +regulating the union of the sexes; without their rites and +blessings no two human beings could become man and wife. +When two were thus united the universal cry was "What +God hath joined together let no man put asunder." The +priest, in fact, arrogated to himself the power of the Deity. +His "joining" was God's, and none but his held on Earth +or in Heaven. Greater blasphemy has hardly ever been +committed even by priests. By this abominable fraud—this +false assumption of authority—deeper social wrongs +have come upon the world than from any other priestly +assumption whatsoever. The priest has habituated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +society to disregard all ties formed in what is called an +illegitimate manner. It has sanctioned the desertion of +women by their seducers, and what is even worse, the +desertion of children by their fathers and mothers, for, of +course, if the parents were not priest-joined, the offspring +must be of the devil. A man may, according to this +dogma, have lived the life of a fiend, ruining women, +bringing children into the world to live or die as the poor +law or hunger should order; but this is no hindrance to +his obtaining the blessing of "the Church" should he one +day take it into his head to submit to be married to one +woman—for gain, for any reason, or none.</p> + +<p>Scoundrel and saint are alike welcome to the priest's +services and blessings if the marriage fees be paid; and +with the full concurrence and blessing of any sectary in +the world, a man may disjoin himself from a woman or +women he has lived with for years in order to take another, +if there was no marriage uniting him to these he deserted. +God, of course, could not be expected to "join" those who +never sought a priest's help. The whole basis of this +treatment of the sexes is grossly and blasphemously +immoral, and the fruits of it are visible on every side. +To it we owe the highly nourishing character of the "social +evil" quite as much as to man's inherent depravity, and +we shall never really begin to overcome that evil until the +whole of the teachings and assumptions of the sects, as +applied to marriage and divorce, are swept clean out of the +public mind.</p> + +<p>Who is there to whom the history of some poor woman +betrayed and deserted is not known—a woman, it may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +be, tender-hearted and true, as worthy of wifehood as any +of her sex? Did society pity that woman? Have you +pitied her? Perhaps, but would you not also gather up +your garments and pass by on the other side, if you met +her in public? Habit is so strong, you will say in excuse; +yes, yes, habit is strong, and the woman is weak. Why +should one heed her? She brought her fate on herself. +Leave her to perish. The man she loved has left her, +and the world treats her no worse than he. If her own +sex spits upon her and hisses at her, what can man do? +These be the thoughts of most men over broken lives, +and most readers may therefore feel impatient that I +should linger over the ruin and fall of a poor peasant +lass. Yet what can I do? my task is to write the history +of this family; its sorrows and failings, its burdens and +tears, are all that it has wherewith to claim the world's +attention. And to my thinking, they mean much. +Their lives were real to them, as yours, reader, is to you, +and they had a part in making up the pitiful social life +of this decrepit old England possibly just as high as +yours.</p> + +<p>Therefore must I ask you to turn aside with me for a +moment to look again on Sally Wanless, when she +reappears from her seclusion—a shame mother, with a +babe born to sorrow and shame in her arms. I have +said reappears, but she has not yet ventured to meet the, +to her, scathing gaze of the people in the village street. +She steals into the little garden behind her father's +cottage, and there, in the soft September afternoons, you +would find her seated beneath the shade of an old apple<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +tree, face to face with her doom, and looking at it as one +who has no hope.</p> + +<p>In some people the soul wakes late; some, indeed, +appear to pass through the world without its ever +awakening. They may be bright-hearted people, full of +animal life and spirits, capable of much work and a few +sacrifices, yet they have never risen up to full consciousness +of the meaning of life, to its higher impulses, and +its terrible risks and obligations. No great inward +commotion has ever visited them; they vegetate tamely +on till they reach the grave. Others, like Thomas +Wanless, awake early to consciousness of the mystery +and burden of existence, and battle with hopes and fears +their lives long.</p> + +<p>Would that his daughter had also found the realities +of living ere the curse of life had come upon her! But +she did not. Her awakening came too late. While it +was possible she hid from herself the meaning of her fall, +and refused to look at the awful questions which for the +first time surged in upon her soul. It was not possible +for long. When the wail of her infant first broke on +her ear she awoke and was stricken with the full +consciousness of what she had lost. Her past life stood +out before her as something apart; its hopes belonged to +another state of existence, to a life in which her future +could have no part. All lonely at the heart she had +borne the pains of motherhood, and a feeble infant lay +by her side bearing witness against her now and evermore. +No father welcomed it. The sound of its feeble +cry brought a forsakenness about the mother's heart<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +nothing could remove. In vain her mother soothed her. +In vain her true-hearted father, bravely hiding away his +shame and grief, took the little one in his arms and +fondled it with a fatherhood that assumed all the sin and +all the responsibilities of his child. Sarah could not be +comforted. Blank despair took possession of her. Why +was she not dead? Why did the child live? Surely +they would be both better dead and buried out of sight +for ever? This was the under tone of her thoughts now, +save when at times, and as she grew strong again, gusts +of passion like her father's would sweep over her soul. +Then she felt for moments as if she could compel the world +to stop and witness her revenge. Should a fit like this +master her, what might one so desperate not do? Hers +was a soul awake and in prison, but if it burst its bonds?</p> + +<p>Let the gay and frivolous, the light talkers, the young +and giddy, the tempter and the tempted, stop to look +upon this ruin. Is it a small thing, do you think, for a +man to have the undoing of this woman and child laid to +his charge. He passes in the world unharmed, nay, +admired, probably, the very women in secret whispering +admiringly of his prowess. But does that make his guilt +the less? Is there no retributive justice dogging his +heels, from which all the glories and adulations of earth +cannot shield him? Look at the history of such men, +and be they kings or carters, you will find that they +become degraded wretches, moral abortions, repulsive ruins +of humanity, as the result of their crimes against woman. +Yea, the woman is avenged, though only after death +comes the judgment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Sally Wanless thought not of revenge, that calm +September evening, on which my memory pictures her +through the mirror of other eyes, seated, half in shadow, +half in sunlight, beneath the old apple tree. Her baby +lies asleep on her lap, the sunlight glints through the +leaves on her hair, and flickers now and then across the +infant's face—but she heeds neither child nor light. A +far-away look is in her eyes—a look that tells of longing, +for what will never be hers again on earth. The evening +sun-glow throws into relief the pale, pinched face with +its unresigned hungry look, for in that face there is no +welcome to the sober autumn warmth. The dull fire of +Sally's eyes is the fire of an unquenchable pain. Where +is there room in her life for joy any more? Her eye +does not trace heaven's battlemented walls, in those +grand masses of white clouds—the blue expanse beyond +is not eloquent of the near world unseen. No; her +thoughts are self-centred; she never looks upward. Day +after day she sits here, still and silent, as one stunned. +Her spirit seems at such times as if beaten to the earth, +never to rise again. The child sometimes fails to interest +or rouse her. When its wails demand attention, she will +fondle and kiss it much, as if it were made of wood.</p> + +<p>Alas; poor Sally, winsome lass. How many such as +you go aching through the world, broken-hearted, and +forsaken,—waiting for the judgment to come, when, as +they still, perhaps, lingeringly hope, the wrong shall be +righted for evermore.</p> + +<p>Her parents yearned after their daughter, and yet feared +to break in rudely upon her brooding spirit. Neighbours<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +came too, full of kindly promises and curiosity, ready to +speak volumes of comforting words; but Sally shrank +from contact with them,—preferred the garden seat, or +her own garret window.</p> + +<p>Thomas became broken-hearted about his child. He +could not get her to so much as look at him. Often +times he laid his hands softly on her bent head, and +whispered—"Sally, my lass, cheer up a bit. Don't break +mother's heart and mine, by taking on so." But Sally +merely wept, and bent still lower over her babe. They +could not get her to go out during the day—only at night +would she creep along by the hedge-rows, in the most +unfrequented paths, accompanied by her mother, and +hiding the child as much as possible, beneath her shawl, +when it was not asleep at home. Her morbid fancy +made her think that everyone knew her shame. She +could not see people talking together without a rush of +blood to her face, as if she felt the talk must be of her.</p> + +<p>And how fared it all this time with her seducer? As +the world elects, it shall always fare. From it he had +neither frown nor word of rebuke. Those that knew his +sin thought as little about it as he did, and that was +apparently never at all. He took no more notice of +Sarah Wanless and the infant girl she had borne to him, +than if they had been dogs. Nay, far less, for they were +hateful to his selfish, ease-loving nature, and therefore he +rigorously banished them from his sight and thoughts. +Just as before, he took his "pleasure" coming and going +to town, and living the life of sottish ease, as became a +man of fashion and a court soldier. At the Vicarage his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +welcome was just as warm as ever, although every soul +within its walls was quite aware of the ruin he had +brought on the poor peasant's daughter. Mrs. Codling's +verdict naturally was, that it served the gipsy right, and +and her father too. He was always an insolent fellow, +who never showed proper respect for the Olympians, and +this would perhaps take down his pride a bit. This was +the view of the matter insinuated to Adelaide, who had +become "skittish" when the news first reached her ears, +thereby, however, increasing the ardour with which the +captain followed her. Mrs. Codling had quite made up +her mind, that through Adelaide she would succeed in +catching the Captain as a son-in-law, and therefore took +occasion to put "matters in their proper light."</p> + +<p>"Of course, my dear," she would say, "we shall have to +get rid of the girl and her brat, for it might be unpleasant +to have them in the parish; but the Captain can manage +all that, never fear, and if the whole nest of them remove +to another part of the country, the parish will have a +good riddance. I daresay a few pounds will do it, for +all that old rascal's pride."</p> + +<p>Adelaide was soon satisfied, and soon, also, her flippant +tongue had disseminated this view of the case all over the +parish; for Adelaide would talk to the housemaid when +no better listener was to be had.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>BRINGS THE DOUBTLESS RELUCTANT READER ONCE +MORE INTO CONTACT WITH A "GALLANT" WOOER, +AND GIVES FURTHER PROOF OF THE DIFFICULTY +WHICH BESETS ALL ATTEMPTS TO HARMONISE +TRUTH AND FASHIONABLE "CHRISTIAN" RESPECTABILITY.</h3> + + +<p>Thus was the Captain's way made smooth to him, and +the country side soon became as full of his ongoings with +"the parson's girl" as ever it had been about his intrigue +with Sally Wanless.</p> + +<p>Thomas Wanless himself saw and heard much, for his +cottage was not very far from the Vicarage road, and the +Captain sometimes forgot himself, and passed his very door, +instead of taking up the back street. Doubtless it never +entered the Captain's head that any peasant would accost +him about such a trifle as the ruin of his daughter. He +ought rather to feel honoured thereat. What he did fear +was the girl herself—he having a fine gentlemanly dread +of "scenes."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, Thomas's wrath was awakened anew at +the sight of this "cool blackguard," as he most irreverently +styled the Captain, and soon the feeling extended to them +that "harboured him." It was borne in upon his spirit,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +as the Methodists say, that he must denounce the +"ruffian." Yes, yes, he thought, this must be done; till +it was done there would be no relief in his mind. He had +borne too much in silence, but that this harbouring of +criminals should go on before his face was more than he +could stand.</p> + +<p>"It will do no good," his wife said, as he declared his +purpose to her.</p> + +<p>"Good!" he answered, "who wants or expects good +to come to them or us? I expect none, but I must and +shall tell the blackguard what I think of him."</p> + +<p>Yet this was easier said than done. He could not well +stop the Captain in the street, for he nearly always drove +or rode, and never once passed Thomas's cottage door on +foot. It was utterly useless to call at the Grange, for no one +would see him. Obsequious menials might even set the +dogs at him, or trump up a charge against him and put +him in jail. Besides, Thomas had no time except on +Sundays to go in quest of his enemy, and on Sundays the +Captain was usually at the Vicarage. In the bitterness +of spirit which these thoughts brought him to, Thomas +might have, perhaps, done something rash, but happily +necessity prevented him. He had now to work, if possible, +harder than ever—early and late at the farm, on his +allotment, in the little garden at his cottage, he laboured +for the means of life—and did but poorly, though the +work kept him up and helped him to control the fire that +burned within him.</p> + +<p>At last the chance he longed for came suddenly, and +without his seeking it. He was passing the Vicarage<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +garden one beautiful Sunday afternoon in October, and +heard voices on the little lawn which lay between the +hedge and the house. Laughter and the chatter of merry +tongues fell on his ear, and one hard man's voice he +instantly guessed must be that of Captain Wiseman. To +reach that conclusion and the resolve to face his daughter's +seducer then and there may be said to have constituted +one mental effort. A rush of strong emotion swept over +him and made him feel, as he opened the Vicarage gate +and slipped within, as if God had laid a mission upon +him to lay bare the iniquity of this man and of those who +countenanced him. Under the influence of this feeling +he straightened himself and strode across the grass direct +to the place where he heard the voices.</p> + +<p>The scene that burst upon his view if possible +heightened his courage, and I can well imagine that the +rough, toil-gnarled, weather-buffeted old man looked like +an avenging fate to those whose privacy he had thus +invaded. Always dignified and noble in aspect, the +anger at his heart now doubtless made him heroic.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Codling and her four daughters were seated in a +group on chairs in front of a sort of arbour that stood at +the further end of the lawn, and a little behind the western +end of the house, not far from the churchyard, from which +it was hidden by a clump of evergreens and a wall. +Behind Adelaide Codling, leaning over her chair, and +apparently teasing her in a familiar <i>nonchalant</i> way, stood +Captain Wiseman. As he faced the gate he was the first +to catch sight of Thomas Wanless, and although he hardly +knew Sally's father by sight, he appeared to guess<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +intuitively that a "scene" was at hand. His red face +grew redder still, his talk suddenly ceased, and an ugly +scowl gathered on his fleshly brow. Mrs. Codling's back +was towards the approaching peasant, but the Captain's +sudden silence and the look he gave made her turn round +just as Thomas came up. She also divined that trouble +was at hand, and, bridling up at the idea of that +"disgusting creature" parading his girl's shameless +conduct before her pure-minded daughters, prepared at +once for action.</p> + +<p>"See if the Vicar can come out, my dear," she said to +the girl nearest to her, and then addressing Thomas, +cried in tones meant to be frigidly severe, but which only +succeeded in being savagely spiteful—</p> + +<p>"If you want the Vicar, my good man, go to the house. +You have no right to enter this garden."</p> + +<p>She might just as well have addressed the nearest tree. +Thomas paid no attention to her, but stalking up to the +Captain, glared at him till that wretched being shivered +with fear in spite of himself. Perhaps this "gallant" +soldier thought Wanless would knock him down, and +that may have been the peasant's first impulse. However, +he did not, but instead turned after a minute or so +to Mrs. Codling, and asked, with stern abruptness—</p> + +<p>"Madam, do you know who this man is?"</p> + +<p>For a brief space the woman seemed scared and cowed +by the tones and at the face she saw looming above her. +"Good gracious me!" she exclaimed, half to herself. +"What does the man mean?" Then, recovering courage, +added, "I do believe the creature is crazy. I'm very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +sorry, Captain Wiseman, but really I fear you will have +to come to the rescue of us weak women. Do speak to +him and order him off."</p> + +<p>At this two of the girls began to scream, but Adelaide +giggled.</p> + +<p>"Since you give me no answer, madam," Thomas +struck in, "I shall tell you who this man is," and he +stepped round and backed a little, so as to be able +to look at both the Captain and the Vicar's wife. +"This man is the seducer of my daughter," he continued. +"He has committed a crime against her and against me +which is worse than murder in the sight of God. He is +the father of a helpless child that, for all he cares, might +be flung into a roadside ditch to die. For his cold-blooded +villainy that child and my child must suffer all +their days. This man, I tell you," and here his voice +rang all over the place, "this man has broken an innocent +girl's heart, and you know it, madam, and you harbour +him. Shame on you!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Codling grew pale with rage, and tried to speak; +but before she got a word out Thomas had turned +to the Captain, who took a step forward as if to collar +him.</p> + +<p>"Captain Wiseman," he said; and at the sudden, sharp +address that wretch paused, grew mottled in the face, +and dropped the raised hand by his side. "What!" +cried the labourer, "would you dare to touch me, you +low, libertine scoundrel? Stand back, lest I have to +sully my hands by choking the life out of you, reptile +that you are!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> + +<p>How much further Thomas might have gone I know +not, but by this time Mrs. Codling had got her voice and +charged in turn. She ordered Thomas to leave the place, +and in shrill tones threatened him with the police, with +the Captain's vengeance, with the Vicar's wrath, called +him a hoary old sinner, and well-nigh swore at him for +polluting the ears of her precious daughters with the +story of his own girl's immorality. It was a fearful +torrent, Thomas afterwards confessed. Until then he +had never known the length of a woman's tongue. But +it came to an end at last, for Mrs. Codling lost her breath. +With a parting shot to the effect that Thomas had only +got what he deserved, and it was like father like child—low +wretches all—the ruffled woman relapsed into a +fuming silence. Somehow the tirade brought relief to +Thomas's overcharged heart. It had an amusing and +grotesque side that struck him forcibly in spite of himself, +and it was therefore with a certain sense as of +laughter welling up through his heart of sorrow—a feeling +for which he would fain have reproached himself—that +he answered in a voice that bore down all attempts at +interruption—</p> + +<p>"Poor lady, I did not come here to quarrel with you, +far from it. God forgive you for having such ill feelings, +and you a parson's wife too. But what could one expect +when you harbour scamps like this fine military seducer +here? That's enough to make your heart the abode of +all that is wicked. I bear you no malice though, far +from it. I would warn you to mend your steps in time. +You call me names, and accuse me of bringing my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +corrupt affairs before the pure ears of your daughters. +Take care, woman, take care. The serpent that destroyed +my precious lass has not lost his fangs, and your turn to +mourn as I mourn may be nearer than you think. +Because you have fine clothes and luxuries, and live in a +grand house, you think that the ills of the poor cannot +reach you. Take care, I say, or the day may come +when I can return your taunt, and tell you that if you +had set a better example to your children, if you had +guarded them against evil company, you might have been +spared much sorrow and humiliation." With this, +Thomas turned to go, but the cries of Mrs. Codling +arrested him.</p> + +<p>"The wretch," she shrieked. "Josiah, do, for heaven's +sake, speak to this low fellow. His foul abuse is +positively sickening." And as the Vicar shuffled up in +obedience to the summons, his wife, turning to the +gallant rake, added, "I'm so sorry, Captain, that you +should have been insulted here. This must be very +disagreeable to you."</p> + +<p>The Captain found voice to assure her that it did not +matter. He didn't "care a hang, you know," and gave it +as his opinion that a strategic movement towards the +house might be the best end of the affair.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," cried Adelaide, "let us go indoors and +leave that fellow to speak to the trees. He'll soon tire of +that;" and she proceeded to gather up the stray +wraps.</p> + +<p>But before this noble plan of out-manœuvring an enemy +could be carried out, the Vicar and Thomas had encountered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +each other, and Mrs. Codling had to rush to the +defence of her husband.</p> + +<p>"My good man," the Vicar had begun. "Eh, Thomas +Wanless is it? Dear me! You forget yourself, sir. You +mustn't behave in this way in my garden, and before +ladies, too. Go away, go away, and come to me to-morrow +if you have anything to complain of. I'll see +you in my study."</p> + +<p>"Come to you!" answered the peasant in tones of +amazement and scorn. "Come to you! what could you +do, you whited sepulchre? You God-forsaken, poor, +tippling creature. Mind your own affairs," and he +laughed a bitter laugh, as once more he turned to go.</p> + +<p>The Vicar also turned and slunk away with a scared +guilty look, but his wife's wrath found outlet anew.</p> + +<p>"This is too bad," she screamed after Wanless, "the +low scoundrel. Oh, Captain Wiseman, I do wish you +would thrash the fellow to within an inch of his life. Oh +dear! oh dear! will nobody pity me," and she fairly wept +with rage.</p> + +<p>The last that Thomas heard of them was the Captain +explaining in his most persuasive words that "By Jove, +you know, it would hardly be the thing for me to take to +fisticuffs with a low labourer-ruffian, else, by Gad, nothing +would have delighted me more than to beat him to a +pulp, you know."</p> + +<p>Thomas turned and gazed in the direction of the +speaker as if to invite him to come and try, but the +Captain was busy hurrying the ladies into the house, and +though near enough to see well the look on Thomas's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +face, he showed no sign of accepting the implied +challenge.</p> + +<p>It was Mrs. Codling who, brave to the last, and +woman-like, gave the parting shot.</p> + +<p>"Be off, you low blackguard," she screamed, and then +disappeared within the house. It afterwards transpired +that she caught sight of some of the servants watching +the encounter with Wanless from a window, and had +much comfort from the blowing up she gave them. Her +superfluous temper was thereby wholesomely expended.</p> + +<p>Thomas Wanless went home that afternoon struggling +with a feeling of disappointment in which there mingled +a certain degree of shame. He had never entered the +Vicar's grounds with the intention of either wrangling +with the Vicar or his wife. A desire to expose a +scoundrel was his sole motive, and he had felt a sense of +the heroic as he proceeded to seek his daughter's betrayer. +Had that man abused him, or struck him, or in any way +given him the opportunity of letting loose his wrath, he +would have, perhaps, felt that a duty had been discharged. +Instead of that, Thomas had merely fallen out with a +sharp-tongued, not over-sensitive woman, and abused a +poor parson who, whatever his failings, had not at the +moment the least intention to act otherwise than as a +peace-maker. The heroics had all vanished, and in their +place was something grotesque and ludicrous. The more +Thomas thought of it the more he felt that he had that +day vindicated neither his own honour nor his daughter's, +and he resolved that henceforth he should bear his +sorrows in silence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> + +<p>Perhaps this self-condemnation was not quite reasonable, +for Mrs. Codling provoked Wanless most unjustifiably. +She, at all events, got no more than she deserved. But +the labourer was sensitive and proud, and these feelings +made him prefer silent endurance to the loss of self-respect. +Could he have foreseen the consequences which seemed +at least to flow from his one effort at bringing home to +the sinner his sin, he might have had still greater doubts +about the wisdom of the course he pursued on that calm +October Sunday afternoon.</p> + +<p>For one thing, the noise of the row between the +Captain and Thomas was soon heard all over Ashbrook. +The Vicarage servants retailed it with many embellishments +to their friends—as a secret, of course—and +Adelaide Codling herself let out some episodes to her +then bosom friend. Presently, and in due course, the +tale reached the Grange, where it took the circumstantial +and easily comprehended form of an account of a great +fight between the Captain and the labourer, in which the +latter had got two black eyes, a broken nose, cut lips, a +thumb out of joint, and some said three, some five teeth +knocked down his throat by the scientific handling of the +gallant guardsman. It was nothing to the purpose to +say that the labourer had been seen going about his work +as usual, for people of his sort thought nothing of +maulings that would have nearly been the death of +superior persons—like flunkeys and valets.</p> + +<p>In some such guise, the story ultimately reached the +ears of Mrs. Morgan, who was so much shocked at the +idea of a fight between her brother and a low labouring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +fellow that she felt constrained to tell her mother, +especially as the fight was alleged to have taken place on +the Vicarage lawn, in presence of the Vicar's family. +Mrs. Morgan, keener sighted than her mother now was, +had for some time been aware of the ambitions of Mrs. +Codling, so far at any rate as to disapprove of the +constant intercourse which the Captain had with the +Vicarage. In telling her story, therefore, it was possible +for her also to lay emphasis upon the Captain's relationship +with the Codlings, which she took care to do, and +as she flattered herself much that she succeeded admirably.</p> + +<p>At first it seemed as if she had done nothing of the +kind. The Juno of the parish, Lady Harriet Wiseman, +forgot everything for a time in her wrath at the abominable +presumption of a labourer in fighting with her +blue-blooded son, and was eager to have him arrested +and punished. In vain Mrs. Morgan pleaded the scandal +such a step would cause; her wrathful ladyship would +hear never a word. Nothing pacified her till she had +spoken to her son on the subject, and she had so set her +heart upon making an example of that vagabond fellow, +who had troubled the parish ever since she could remember, +that she was positively more angry than before when +her son told her that what she wished could not be done +for the best of all reasons—there had been no fight. +Then her wrath fell partly on her son, and they quarrelled. +She asked him what he was doing at the Vicarage. He +replied that it was none of her business, and left her +with the seeds of jealous suspicion in her heart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>Next time the Captain met his sister, he rounded upon +her, and, according to common report, called her "a +damned meddlesome fool" for interfering in his affairs. +Thus matters were likely to become ravelled at the +Grange. Perhaps it was to lull suspicion and allow the +heated atmosphere to cool that the Captain soon after +this betook himself to Newmarket, and thence to London. +Before he went he gave a private hint to the head gamekeeper +that he would not be inconsolable if that questionable +functionary could manage to make out a case of night-poaching +against Thomas Wanless. An underling heard +of the plot and warned Thomas to take care, and though +Thomas never poached, the warning was probably +needful enough.</p> + +<p>The row at the Grange was the least significant of the +consequences that flowed from Thomas Wanless's visit +to the Vicarage Gardens. Mrs. Morgan had apparently +indicated to her mother the suspicions she entertained as +to the aims of Mrs. Codling, and Lady Harriet, afraid to +tackle her son about his amours, attacked Mrs. Codling +instead. It was plainly enough intimated to that scheming +woman that Lady Harriet disapproved of the constant +visits of the Captain to the Vicarage, and Mrs. Codling +was asked to discourage them.</p> + +<p>A sensible person would have deferred to the wishes +of the greatest lady in the parish on a point so delicate, +but Mrs. Codling proved to be anything but sensible. +Afraid of exciting the wrath of Lady Harriet by open +hostility, she took refuge in underhand plots. The intercourse +between the Captain and her daughter, which had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +hitherto been carried on, in a manner, openly, was now +changed, with the mother's connivance, into a secret +intrigue. By this change the whole moral attitude of the +family became debased. Captain Wiseman was astute +enough to see through the would-be mother-in-law's +motives, and cunning enough to egg her on in a course +of duplicity and folly. His mother need know nothing, +he represented, till all was over. No doubt she would at +first resent a secret marriage, but when she saw she could +no longer help it, her wrath would soon cool down.</p> + +<p>With talks like these it may be supposed that Adelaide +Codling, apt pupil as she was, soon came to look upon a +secret marriage as just the one thing desirable and +necessary to secure her happiness; and, from this conclusion, +it was but a step to destruction. Probably +enough Captain Wiseman had never any intention of +marrying the girl, but whether or not, he certainly had +abandoned it, when, after a few weeks of secret meetings +and clandestine letter writing, he succeeded in persuading +her to join him in London. She left home just after +Christmas, in secret to all appearance, though the village +gossips would have it that her mother knew of her flight +beforehand, and nobody doubted that she had run away +after the Captain. In vain did Mrs. Codling give out +that her daughter had been called away suddenly to visit +a sick aunt. Nobody believed her. Secret intrigues cannot +be successfully carried out in a quiet country village, +and what was declared to be the true version of the flight +was current in all the country side within a week of +Adelaide's departure.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>IS TOO BAD FOR DESCRIPTION.</h3> + + +<p>Unthinkingly, Mrs. Robins repeated this story to Mrs. +Wanless one day in Sally's hearing, and immediately +repented of her folly, for Sally uttered a low moan and +fainted. From that day the gloom of her life seemed +deeper. With unceasing tenderness and watchfulness her +parents had sought to bring back hope to their lost one's +heart, and until this ugly bit of gossip reached her they +had hopes of succeeding. Sally had began to talk a +little more freely, and, recognising the burden she was to +her parents, was becoming anxious to get a situation of +some kind—provided always that it might be far away, +where no one would know her. But from the time she +came back to consciousness on this unhappy day, darkness +again settled down on her spirit. She sat apart +brooding, as when first her babe lay on her lap. That +babe itself appeared to grow almost hateful in her sight, +and was left to the care of her mother, weary though the +old woman was with work and sorrow. With mouth +hard set and eyes looking wistfully sometimes, as if in +terror, into a world far away from the home nest, Sally +heeded no one. Her father again grew deeply concerned +about her, and tried casually to draw her out of the trance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +that seemed to chain her soul. It was useless. She +answered him in monosyllables or never at all. At times +too, and when he spoke to her, a strange, resolute look +would gather on her face. It was not exactly obstinacy, +though she certainly was unyielding. Rather was it a +look as of one who had made up her mind to a great +sacrifice, and feared that she might be betrayed into +abandoning a duty. At that look her father always somehow +grew afraid. It was evident to him that his daughter +in some way connected Adelaide Codling's flight with her +own life, but how he could not guess.</p> + +<p>But his fears were only too well grounded, for one day, +Sally, too, disappeared. Watching her opportunity when +the babe was asleep, her mother busy washing, and her +father away at the farm, she dressed herself as if for a walk, +went out, and did not return. All day her mother had +endured the keenest anxiety in the hope that Sally would +come back. She was unwilling to send for her husband, +and could only make one or two cautious inquiries through +her nearest neighbours. They knew nothing; Sally had +been seen, of course, but she looked and walked as usual, +with hasty steps and eyes bent on the ground. Though +startled at the news, Thomas was not surprised. The +flight only fulfilled his own forebodings. Swallowing a +morsel of food he started for Warwick, and soon learnt +there that a girl answering to Sally's description had left +by the slow London train at eleven o'clock. On his way +home he bitterly reproached himself that he had not +taken means to make such a step impossible. The two +or three pounds that Sally had brought home with her he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +had scrupulously left untouched, and these she had taken +with her, as also the few trinkets given to her by the +Captain. Thomas had no doubt whatever that Sally had +fled to London.</p> + +<p>For a time this blow positively dazed Thomas and his +wife. Once more their nights were nights of sorrow and +tears, and for them the mornings brought no joy. Only +the little one that lay sleeping in its wee cot was all +unconscious of trouble, or that its presence added +poignancy to the bitterness with which the labourer and +his wife mourned for their lost one.</p> + +<p>Thomas Wanless, however, was not a man to abandon +himself long to useless grief. The more keen the pain +the more certain was his nature to rise and fight for +deliverance, and before long he had made up his mind +that, while he had life, his child should not be abandoned. +Cost what it would, he must follow her to that dreadful +city whose horrors darkened his imagination. The lost +one should be found, and, if God would but help him, saved. +So he resolved, although as yet he knew not how his +resolution could be carried out.</p> + +<p>For a day or two he brooded over it, afraid almost to +tell his wife. The fear was weak. No sooner did Mrs. +Wanless know what her husband meant to do than she +became almost cheerful, and brought her ready wit to bear +on all possible plans for enabling him to go. Full of a +true woman's self-sacrificing spirit, she at first proposed +to go out charring, and so make a living, but the child +made that impossible. The utmost she could do was to +continue to take in washing, and even that would be a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +severe strain upon her, with a babe to tend. At best, too, +it would afford her only a precarious living, and nothing +possible could be left to help her husband in London.</p> + +<p>Unable to decide on ways and means, but yet +determined to carry out their one great plan, they ended +by casting their trust on Providence, leaving the future to +take care of itself. As a first step, Thomas went to +Stratford, and withdrew the few pounds left in the bank +there,—some £10 or £12. That done, he next went to +consult his daughter Jane, as to what help she could give. +Jane had little, and was saving that little to get married +and to emigrate; but when the whole matter was laid +before her, she, too, fell in with her father's plans, and +offered him her money.</p> + +<p>"No, no, I cannot take that," he answered. "I hope to +get work in London, and cash enough to keep soul and +body together. I only ask you to help your mother with +it, should she be in need—to help her all you can, in +fact."</p> + +<p>Jane promised all the more cheerfully, perhaps, that +her little all was not immediately to be taken from her +to help in this hunt after Sarah.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wanless also wanted her husband to write to Tom, +telling him the circumstances, and asking for help, but to +this he would in nowise consent.</p> + +<p>"Tom," he said, "needs all his money just now, and +what he sends must come of his own goodwill. Besides +we shall get Sally back again, and then the best thing +will be to send her out to Tom. She wouldn't go if she +thought Tom knew what had befallen her. Jacob does<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +not yet know, Jane will keep silence, and there is no need +for Tom to be enlightened."</p> + +<p>This reasoning was unanswerable, and Mrs. Wanless +had to acquiesce with what heart she could. Nay, more +than that, sore against her will, she had to submit to see +her husband start for London with only £5 in his pocket. +The rest he insisted leaving with her, on the same +grounds as he had refused Jane's savings. "I shall get +work, my dear," he said; "never mind me," and she had +to yield.</p> + +<p>Possibly Thomas would have been less confident had +he known what going to London, and work in London, +meant; but in spite of his dread of the great city, his +conceptions were so hazy, that in his heart, as he afterwards +confessed, he never contemplated needing to work +there at all. He hoped to find Sarah in a day or two, or +at most within a week, and once found, was sure that +she would come home. His wife, it turned out, formed +a truer conception of the task before him, although she +had never seen a bigger town than Leamington or +Warwick. But her fears did not abate her husband's +confidence. Without fixing dates, he told his master and +all whom it concerned, that he expected to be back soon. +Struck, perhaps, by the generous purpose of the man, +Thomas's master thrust a couple of sovereigns into his +hand as they parted, but Thomas would not accept them. +In spite of all the farmer could say, Thomas stoutly +maintained that he had enough. "My own means are +sufficient," he said.</p> + +<p>"Your own means sufficient," laughed the shrewd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +Scot. "Well, I like that! Man, how much hae ye +got?"</p> + +<p>"Five pounds," said Thomas.</p> + +<p>"Five pounds! Five pounds to go to London, and look +for a runaway girl with! Good heavens, man, that'll no +keep ye a week. Ye'll starve, Wanless, lang afore you +find the lassie, if ye ever find her. God, man, if that's a' +you can scrape for the job, you'd better bide where ye +are?"</p> + +<p>"That I cannot do," Thomas answered. "Starve or +not, I must go and seek my child."</p> + +<p>The farmer looked at him for a moment, gave a grunt of +amazement, and turned on his heel, with the remark—</p> + +<p>"Well, well, Wanless, a wilful man must hae his way, +they say, and you must have yours, I suppose, but, faith, +I doubt you'll rue your folly."</p> + +<p>And with that consolatory observation, Thomas parted +from a master whom he had learnt to respect, for the +rough outside hid a not unkindly nature.</p> + +<p>The liking was mutual, and was not on Robson's part +lessened by the refusal of his man to take the two +sovereigns. The sturdy independence of his hind was a +thing so uncommon, that it excited his admiration, and +stirred his somewhat dulled natural feelings of generosity. +Many a time during the absence of her husband, Mrs. +Wanless had cause to bless the "Missus o' Whitbury +Farm" for acts of unostentatious kindness which that +motherly Scotchwoman needed, it must be said, little +prompting to perform. On her husband's suggestion, she +called one day at the cottage, and at once took an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +interest in the pale, sad woman, and the little child. +Thereafter, many little presents of milk, and of butter and +cheese, found their way to the cottage from Whitbury +Farm. And what Mrs. Wanless felt most grateful of all +for, was that these things were never sent to her by +servants, but were brought either by Mrs. Robson herself, +or by one of her daughters. The farmer's wife did not try +to make Mrs. Wanless feel that she was a miserable +dependent upon her bounty. She had not in that respect, +as yet, acquired English manners. In the Lowlands of +Scotland, I am told, there is no abject class like the +English agricultural labourer, and these hard Scotch +farmer folks had still to learn that their hinds were not +human beings of like passions and feelings with +themselves.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>TELLS OF A BETTER QUEST THAN THAT OF THE +HOLY GRAIL.</h3> + + +<p>Thomas Wanless set out for London, within a week +after his daughter's disappearance, on a dull, cold, January +morning. His farewells were cheerful, but his heart was +downcast enough, and the further the slow, crawling train +took him from home the heavier his heart became. It +was dark long before he reached Paddington, to be there +turned out upon the murky bewilderment of London +streets, knowing not where to turn his footsteps.</p> + +<p>Mechanically he followed the string of people and cabs +flowing out of the station into Praed Street, the lamps of +which showed faintly through damp, smoke-charged air. +Then he paused irresolute. A sense of loneliness and +hopelessness stole over him, intensified probably by +hunger, for he had eaten nothing save a crust of bread +and cheese since early morning. He was as one lost, as +helpless in the crush of whirling humanity as a wind-driven +clot of foam on a storm-tossed sea. Amid all this +hurry and bustle of human life, where could he go? how +find lodgings? Fairly overwhelmed by the sense of +desolation, he leant against a wall to try and collect his +thoughts, and mentally prayed for courage and guidance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> + +<p>For some minutes he stood thus self-absorbed, when a +rather kindly voice, speaking almost in his ear, roused +him with a</p> + +<p>"Good evening, mate. Be you a stranger?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Thomas answered, looking up. "Yes, I came up +from Warwick to-day, and never was in London before."</p> + +<p>"Be ye in want o' work then, or not?" the voice +demanded.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, if I can get work I'll be glad of it; but it +wasn't that exactly as brought me here. You see——." +But Thomas checked himself, and turned a scrutinising +gaze on his interlocutor. He saw a rather grimy, ill-clad, +thick-set man, whose face seemed as kindly as his voice, +though its expression was barely discernible, except by +the eyes, which shone brightly in the dull, yellow light of +the neighbouring lamp. By the sack-like covering which +the man wore on his back, and by his be-smudged +appearance generally, Thomas judged that he must be a +labourer among coals. He was poor at any rate, and he +looked kindly; so after a brief inspection, to which the +stranger submitted in silence, and as a matter of course, +Thomas resumed—</p> + +<p>"You see, I'm come up to look for a lass of mine as +has runned away."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" ejaculated the stranger. "Ah!" and then he +stopt with his mouth open, as if embarrassed by this +sudden confidence. But he soon recovered himself, and +after relieving his feelings with a "Well, I never! Who'd +a thowt it?" came back to practical business, by asking +Thomas if he knew of a bed anywhere.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> + +<p>Thomas said "No."</p> + +<p>"Well, then," answered the man, "you just come along +with me. You ain't likely to find the gal to-night, and +you can't stand there till mornin'! Perhaps my missus +can give you a shake-down in the corner somewhere."</p> + +<p>Thomas was only too glad to accept the stranger's +offer, and, hoisting his bundle of clothes over his shoulder, +with his stick through the knot, he at once assented, and +followed wheresoever the other led. They trudged along +for a good half-hour, mostly in silence, for Thomas was +in no mood for talking, and his companion appeared to +have no gifts in that direction. At length they reached the +door of a dingy, tumble-down house in that now happily +abolished slum, Agar Town, and into this the coal-heaver +turned, saying—</p> + +<p>"Mind the steps, friend. The stairs is rather out of +repair." In this rickety, filthy, old tenement the coal-heaver +rented two rooms on the third floor. He had a +wife and three poor sallow-looking children, who were +frightened when they saw a strange man enter with their +father. The man introduced his wife as Mrs. Godbehere, +and said his own name was William. They invited +Thomas, who in turn had given his name, to share their +supper, and he contributed to the feast the remainder +of his bread and cheese. Consulted about a bed, Mrs. +Godbehere declared that it was impossible for her to give +Thomas one, and he agreed with her. She knew, however, +a neighbour who had a lodging to let; 2s. 6d. a-week +she charged for a small room with a bed in it—the lodger +to find and cook his own food. In this room Thomas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +was ultimately installed, and right thankful he was to +find a roof above his head in that appalling city. The +walk along Marylebone and Euston Roads had impressed +him more profoundly than ever with a sense of the vastness +of London. It was like a first lesson in the meaning +of infinity, and it struck him with a feeling of dread. +Oft times did he ask himself that night whether he was +not, indeed, mad in attempting to trace Sarah in such a +sea of human beings. But mad or not, he resolved that +his task should not be lightly abandoned.</p> + +<p>Thus occupied he passed a restless night, and got up +weary next morning. His bed, he found to his cost, was +not over clean, and it was with a depressing sense of +comfortlessness that he went to seek the Godbeheres. +The coal-heaver had already gone to his work, but Mrs. +Godbehere directed him to an eating-house near by, +where he went and had some breakfast. Refreshed a +little, he forthwith started on his quest. He would +wander the myriad streets of London till he found his +lost one, he had said to himself.</p> + +<p>And day after day, night after night, he did wander +hither and thither through the most frequented thoroughfares +of London, returning late and worn-out to his +miserable lodging. A growing hopelessness lay at his +heart, and made him sometimes almost unable to drag +his limbs past each other, but he held on with a dogged +persistence that was almost sullen. Through Godbehere's +friendliness, and the pressure of his own heart agony, he +had scraped acquaintance with sundry policemen, but +they could give him no effective help. One would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +suggest that he ought to keep a close watch about the +Strand, another mentioned Oxford Street and the Circus, +or the Haymarket. All agreed, in their callous sort of +way, that "if she had followed a man to London, she was +a'most sure to find her way to the streets before long." +Thomas did not doubt it. He knew the pride of his +daughter too well to doubt it. Rather than bear among +her kindred the brand which her unfallen sisterhood +would put upon her, she would face a life of open shame, +where none could cast stones at her. So Thomas held +on his way, but never got a glimpse of his lost one. His +means were nearly exhausted, for, pinch as he might, it +costs money to live in London. Yet he would not +surrender. No, he would work. But how could he get +work—he, a mere street loafer, and as lonely in London +as if it had been a desert. London with its hurrying +crowds, its rush of vehicles, its roar and bustle, and +flowing lights, fairly broke down his imagination. He +felt himself a helpless atom amid a mass of atoms that +knew nothing of his misery, and grew too weak-hearted +almost to seek for work. But for his quest, he felt—sometimes +even said to himself—that he could lie down +in the gutter and die. Possibly his wretched lodging +and the sleepless nights he had passed in his pain had +much to do with this utter collapse of mind. I cannot +decide, but he has told me that never till that time did +he realise the sustaining power of a fixed idea. "I came +to find Sally," he said, "and I held to that." For that +he braved not only hunger and cold, but the horrors of +the night in the most abandoned thoroughfares of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +London. For that he mingled in the crowds of educated +and other roughs that frequented theatre doors, and the +doors of the coffee-houses and prostitute dens in the +Haymarket and Gardens. For that he endured cursing +and foul language inconceivable, stood to see men and +women hurrying themselves into worse than a fiend's +condition by their self-indulgence and sin. Into low +dancing rooms he penetrated, often to be bundled out +neck and crop as a spy, or at best to be horrified by +filthy jokes or still more filthy exhibitions of obscenity. +That very Agar Town, in which he lived, he again and +again explored, facing its stenches and miseries, its +wantonness and riot, and worst of all, its terrible crowds +of weary, sin-rotting, broken-hearted, down-beaten, and +unfortunate humanity. Often did he see women there +peering out of their dingy, rag-stuffed windows, that bore +traces of having once been as fair as rash Sally. Nay, +the very rag-pickers who lodged in its garrets, Godbehere +assured him, had many of them once been "flaunting +women of the town." Women of the town, indeed, and +was not the town doomed? Thomas thought that it +was. To him London was already hell. The fumes of +abominations choked his mental senses, and made him +long to escape.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, his mind was fixed. He could not go +without his child, and in order to carry out his purpose +he must work. By the friendly help of Godbehere he +ultimately obtained employment in the coal yard at +Paddington-wages 2s. 6d. per day. He felt rich and +strong for his task henceforth, and as soon as he could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +he removed to a rather better lodging near his work. At +a waste, as he considered it, of several evenings' lodging-seeking, +he found a small clean room in the neighbourhood +of Lindengrove, for which, including a plain breakfast, +he paid 5s. 6d. a-week. His landlady was an elderly +widow who kept three lodgers, and she rather demurred to +Thomas's demand for a latch-key, so that he might go in +and out at nights as he pleased, but his sad, earnest face, +and his remark that he was looking for a lost daughter, +conquered her fears. Thomas had his key, and felt a +kind of thankfulness that if he did find Sally he could +now bring her to a better refuge than the vermin-filled +hole in Agar Town.</p> + +<p>Five weeks had well-nigh passed, and Thomas was no +nearer his object, to all appearance, than the day he +arrived in London. But now that he had work he felt +more assured of his purpose, and therefore less sad. So +he sent home cheery letters to his wife, bidding her hope +yet for Sally, telling her he felt that God would not forsake +her or them. All his letters his wife got read to her by +the schoolmaster, and then passed them on to Jane. +Money he would have sent, but could not. All that was +left after paying his food and the clothes he needed for +his work he spent in his quest. For work did not cause +him to abate his vigilance, nor did it much reduce his +wanderings. As soon as the yard closed he hurried home, +changed his clothes, swallowed a cup of tea, and, sometimes +on foot, sometimes on the top of an omnibus, he made +his way to the usual haunts of vice. There he would +wander, haunting theatre doors, peering into refreshment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +bars, and sometimes spending sixpence to get inside a +low music hall. The sights he saw froze his very heart's +blood with horror, and he often asked himself—Is all this +vice, then, the product of our civilisation? Where is the +Christianity in the habits of a people who permit tens of +thousands of their fellow beings to rot and perish as a +matter of course, and prate about the social evil in their sleek +respectable way as if it was a dispensation of heaven? How +many of these poor girls, whose lives had been blasted, +who now brazenly mocked "society," and laid snares for +the destruction of its darlings, had mothers, perhaps, even +now weeping for them in secret? As he thought of these +things he felt as if he could wander, like Jonah, through +the streets, preaching the doom of this city of Sodom, +whose streets already savoured of the bottomless pit.</p> + +<p>Thoughts of this kind were brought home to him with +terrible force one night that he saw Adelaide Codling. +He was standing watching the play-goers leaving Drury +Lane, when his eye suddenly caught the face of that girl +amid a group of women and "swells," amongst the latter +of whom was Captain Wiseman. She was showily dressed, +and had a profusion of glaring jewellery scattered about her +person, and she was talking fast, and laughing in a loud, +defiant sort of way. But Wanless could see that she was +not happy. As she drew near where he stood he could mark +the restlessness of her eye, and the nervous boldness of her +manner, and he pitied her. Is this what she has come +to already? he thought to himself, and involuntarily +shivered. Ah! if his own sweet lass was now like this, +could he reclaim her? Would it not be too late?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +Adelaide Codling passed on, unconscious of the presence +of her fellow-villager, saw not the pleading look that +crossed his face, the eager step forward he took as if to +speak with her. She entered a cab with Wiseman and +two others, and disappeared from sight.</p> + +<p>The eagerness of Thomas to find his lost one was +intensified after that night. Hardly a night-watchman in +all the district escaped his importunities, and from most +of them the old man met with a rough kindness that +soothed him even in his absorbing grief. One old sergeant +he met in the Strand, and who had more than once listened +to his descriptions and his queries, advised him to alter +his beat. "There are a great many haunts of streetwalkers," +he said, "besides the Strand and the Haymarket. +Why not try the south side of the river, or up Islington +way? There is the East-end, too, and Oxford Street and +Holborn. Yes, none knew where a girl may get to, once +she cuts adrift in London. Such heaps of them takes to +the streets nowadays, that you can find some in every +thoroughfare in London."</p> + +<p>Wanless felt the observation true, alas! too true, but +what could he do? His means would not allow him to +search the whole city. He took a wider range, however, +going by turns to one part of the town, now another, sometimes +as far as the Angel and Upper Street, Islington, +sometimes south to the Elephant and Castle, and the vice +haunts of Walworth and the Borough. Occasionally, too, +he searched the bridges across the river, but always with +a sort of dread that his doing so was a confession that +he believed his girl capable of drowning herself.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>HAS IN IT, ALAS! NOTHING THAT IS NEW.</h3> + + +<p>The winter was moving away thus, and Thomas Wanless +was rapidly losing his vigour. Hard work and constant +vigils, coupled with a sore heart, and a weak appetite, +pulled the man down, and by February he had to confess +that the long walks were too much for his strength. +Mercifully, the weather often made it impossible for him +to go out at night, and when it did clear up, he contented +himself with going somewhere to watch the stream of +people passing by. "I will wait," he said to himself, "for +my darling to come to me." He could not even stand +very long, but usually sought the rest of a friendly doorstep, +and at times a recess on a bridge, watching, with +tender wistfulness, the stream of life hurrying on around +him. Strange to say, he had more than once seen +Adelaide Codling since that night at the theatre, and +somehow that always gave him hope. Her face seemed +to say to him, "Your daughter cannot be far away."</p> + +<p>Often the "unfortunates" came and talked to him, not +rudely in their wantonness—alas! poor, forsaken waifs—forsaken +by all save God—but soberly, as if moved to +speak to this still, sad-eyed, grey-faced old man, who +looked out on the world so keenly, and withal, with such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +tenderness in his look. They would tell him fragments +of their stories—sad enough all, and wonderfully alike—tales +of seduction, and heartless desertion, varied only +by the degree of turpitude usually exhibited in the man. +At one time it would be the tale of a light-headed girl, +seduced by her master—a married man—who huddled +her out of sight, to hide his shame. Many came from +garrison towns, the seduced of the officers there; quiet +country parsonages gave their quota of girls educated to +feel, and therefore hurrying the faster to their doom, +when once cut off from their families by the devices of +their betrayers. One woman excited Thomas's pity +deeply. Though wasted and fast dying, she still had +traces of great beauty when he first met her, leaning +wearily on the parapet of Waterloo Bridge, looking out +on the water below. She flashed defiance—the defiance +of a hunted being—at him when he first spoke to her, +but he soon won her heart, and got her story. A fair blonde, +oval-faced English girl, she had been comely to look +upon, and was wholesome at the heart even yet, for all her +misery. She was the victim of a parson, now high in +the counsels of the church. The villain was but a curate +when he seduced her—the only child of her mother, and +she a widow. He promised to marry her, of course, and +wiled his way to her heart. Then when he had got all +he wanted, and found that she was with child, he cast her +off, daring her to lay the babe to his paternity, and +spreading a story to the effect that he had found other +lovers at her heels. Broken hearted, she buried her head +and obeyed, but the shame killed her mother. "I could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +not die," the daughter said to Wanless; "I have often +tried to kill myself, but fear keeps me back now, after all +that's past, and it kept me back then. My child died, +thank Heaven! I was alone in the world. I drifted to +London seeking work, and found it hard to get. When +I offered myself for a servant's place, people said I was +too well educated, and suspected that something must be +wrong. I could have taught in a school, perhaps, but +had no one to recommend me. I was hungry; I hated +mankind, and cursed them. I said I would betray and +destroy men for revenge! and the way was easy! oh, so +easy. It has led me here; and now if I could but jump +over and be done with it all!"</p> + +<p>Involuntarily Thomas put forth his hand to hold her +back; but he needed not to do so. The poor woman sank +fainting at his feet. He tried to rouse her, but could not; +and finally put her in a cab and took her to the hospital. +Within a week she died there of brain fever. The +doctors said her strength had been too much reduced by +privation before the disease seized her for her to be able +to survive it. And she was only one among tens of +thousands all pressed down the same loathsome course +by our "Christian civilisation." Nay, forgive the epithet, +there is nothing Christian about it. It is only the civilisation +of a priest-born respectableness. The droning +hypocrites that we are!</p> + +<p>At times Wanless stood by the doors of low music +halls and of theatres, but the door-keepers usually ordered +him off. He looked too like a detective for their taste. +Then he would watch the doors of confectioners' shops,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +too—those shops which cloak brothels of the vilest type—staring +there in the face of day, unheeded by the +authorities, who must wink at some kind of outlet for +the suppressed brutal passions of polished society. More +than once Adelaide Codling had crossed his path at +such times, and still in the company of Wiseman; but +each succeeding time he saw her, Wanless thought the boldness +of her manner had an increased dash of despair in it. +The fate that she had come after was eating into even her +light, giddy heart. The last time he spied her was one +night when he stood close by the door of a café near +Regent Street. The light fell full on her face as the +Captain and she passed in from their cab, and her face +was painted. Already, then, the bloom of youth has +vanished, Thomas thought. Her hard but not unmusical +laugh had given place to a grating cackle, and a leer of +affected gaiety had replaced the merry eye. Poor, erring +wanderer, and had a few months brought you to this? +Already was the shadow of society's ruthless judgment +upon you; could you even now see the blight of your +life, the dreary street, the hard world's scorn, the early +grave? Ah! yes, and who shall describe the devouring +agony that gnawed at that girl's heart? Did she not +see day by day the ebbing away of Wiseman's love? +Love? God forgive me for defiling that sacred word. +It was only his brutish passion that was dying. He was +becoming tired of this toy his handling had smudged, +and she saw it all—prepared herself for the hour when he +would turn his back upon her and go to hunt down other +prey. And only six months ago! Ah, parson, parson,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +has the iron not entered your soul? What is this that +your Christian civilisation has done to your daughter? +Has it made you ashamed even to look for her? Poor, +hide-bound, "respectable" sinner that you are, you shall +behold her again, though you sought her not—though her +mother bade you close your heart and home against her +for ever, because she had with that mother's help allowed +herself to be betrayed.</p> + +<p>One cold March night Thomas Wanless had strayed +on to Waterloo Bridge in his coal-begrimed dress. Something, +he could not have said what, had impelled him to +go there that night. He had taken a hasty supper at a +coffee-house near the coal yard to save time. He felt he +was "superstitious," yet he went, whispering to his heart +"who knows but I may see my child to-night," and +trying to be cheerful.</p> + +<p>Paying the toll at the north side, he wandered backwards +and forwards till the chill from the river began to +enter his bones. The one he looked for came not to +him—still he could not drag himself away. He sat +down in a recess and cowered below the parapet for +shelter, waiting for he knew not what. It might have +been ten o'clock. He had sat quite an hour, and was +nearly going to sleep with weariness, inaction, and cold, +when a rustle of a woman's dress near him spurred his +faculties into active watchfulness. Peering into the +darkness, made visible by the feeble shimmer of the +lamp on the parapet, he discovered a woman approach +him, crouching down in the recess on the other side of the +bridge, weeping bitterly, though almost in silence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +Raising himself on his elbow, he was about to speak to +her when she started up with a wild despairing gesture, +and, jumping on the seat, flung away her shawl.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he heard her say to herself, with a wailing +resoluteness, "I'll do it; I'll die," and with one look of +farewell to the world, where no hope was left for her, a +look of despair and horror that gleamed through the darkness, +she clutched the parapet and drew herself on to it.</p> + +<p>It was all the work of a moment, a flash of time, but +Wanless had sprung to his feet at the sound of her voice, +and was half across the bridge by the time the woman +got upon the parapet. Then he saw her last look, and the +gleam of a neighbouring lamp revealed her features. She +was Adelaide Codling, and the recognition so startled Wanless +that he staggered and for a moment stopped short. In +that moment she was lost. Even as the cry burst from his +lips, "Adelaide Codling, Adelaide, Adelaide," she threw +herself over, as if the sight of a man approaching her had +given the last spur to her despair. He reached the +parapet but in time to hear the dull splash of her body in +the dark tide rolling beneath. As she felt the water +close round her, a cry—weird, unearthly, terrible,—broke +from the girl's lips, and then all was silent, till the waves +threw her up again on the other side of the bridge, when +a hollow, dying wail wandered over the river—the last +farewell of this poor waif of humanity, sacrificed to the +pleasures of the scoundrels who "bear rule" among us, +and call themselves refined.</p> + +<p>Wanless was already at the toll-house, panting and +hardly able to speak. But his look was enough, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +presently there arose a shouting to lightermen and bargemen. +Boats were put off by those who had heard the +splash and the cry. A crowd gathered to see. In little +more than a quarter of an hour a shout rose from the +water far down towards Blackfriars, for the tide was +running out, and the girl had gone rapidly down stream. +"Saved! saved!" was the cry, and they had, indeed, +found the body of Adelaide Codling. She herself had +gone. The cold had killed her rather than the length of +time she had been in the water—the cold and the shock.</p> + +<p>Thomas waited to hear the result of the doctor's efforts +at the police office, and then saw the body deposited in +a neighbouring deadhouse. No clue to her identification +was found upon the body, the poor girl had taken care of +that, more mindful of her friends in death than they of +her living. But Thomas felt bound to tell the police +sergeant what he knew. He gave his own address and +that of the Rev. Josiah Codling, but could not tell where +the girl lived, or what had been the immediate cause of +her suicide. The police, seeing that the upper classes +were in question, decided to keep names quiet for the +present—but communicated with the girl's father, and +arranged that the inquest should be delayed for two days +to permit him to attend. Thomas himself was told that +he would be summoned as a witness, and then went his +way.</p> + +<p>He hardly knew how he got home to his lodgings that +night.</p> + +<p>The inquest on the body of Adelaide Codling was held +in the upper room of a low-class public house in Upper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +Thames Street. Thomas Wanless obtained liberty to +absent himself from work that day, at his own charges, of +course, and punctually at three in the afternoon—the +appointed hour—he entered the parlour of the inn. He +was carefully dressed in the now threadbare and shiny +suit of black, which had been his Sunday costume for +many years.</p> + +<p>A small knot of men had gathered in the room, and a +desultory kind of chat was going on when Thomas +entered. Two or three were grumbling at the nuisance +of these "coroner's 'quests," which took men away from +their business, the majority were "having something to +drink," and all were utterly indifferent to the business +that had brought them there.</p> + +<p>Presently the coroner bustled into the room with his +clerk. The latter hurriedly called over some names, +which were answered, and then produced a greasy-looking +volume in leather which he called "the book." This +talisman he put into the hands of the man nearest him, +to whom he mumbled some cabalistic words, at the end +of which the book was passed along and kissed in a +foolish sort of way by the chosen twelve. Having in this +manner "constituted the jury," proceedings commenced +with a procession to "view the body," led by the coroner. +It lay in a rough wooden shell coffin, in a dark hole +attached to an old city church, and used as a mortuary. +Wanless followed the little crowd in a stunned sort of +way. To his simple, rustic mind it was a dreadful thing +that men should be able to go so carelessly about such a +solemn duty. At the mortuary he was surprised to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +the Vicar. The old man stood by his child's head, gazing +at it in a helpless, dazed way, as if hardly conscious +of what it all meant. No emotion was visible on his face, +no tears broke from his eyes when a policeman, softened +by the sight, led him gently away to the inn parlour out of +the way of coroner and jury.</p> + +<p>The "viewing" over, the Court returned to the inn to +take evidence. Of that there was very little, beyond the +personal testimony of the police, until Thomas Wanless +was called. When his name was mentioned, Thomas saw +the old Vicar start, and for the first time look up with +something like intelligence in his glance, then a scared, +shrinking sort of expression stole across his features, as if +he had suddenly thought of home and cruel village +tongues. But he listened quietly to all the old labourer +had to say. It was not much, for a proper-minded coroner +would not have suffered "family secrets" to be too freely +exposed, nor had Wanless himself any desire to tell more +than was absolutely needful.</p> + +<p>"I saw the deceased," he said, "climb upon the parapet +of Waterloo Bridge opposite where I sat, and I ran +towards her, but before I could reach her she had gone +over. As she prepared to spring she gave one last look +behind her, and I knew her to be our Vicar's daughter. +I called her by name, but it was too late."</p> + +<p>The sad cadence of Thomas's voice, and his obvious +superiority of mien, did not prevent one of the jury from +asking him in a brutal tone—</p> + +<p>"And what were <i>you</i> doing there, my man?"</p> + +<p>"I was looking for my own child," answered the old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +labourer. "At first I thought I had found her, till I saw +the face."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" ejaculated the coroner. "Had you then——?" +but his better impulse stopped him, and he did +not finish the question. Thomas, however, understood it, +and replied at once, almost under his breath—</p> + +<p>"Yes, your Honour, I have lost a daughter, and Captain +Wiseman, the same ruffian destroyed her that enticed +away the Vicar's poor lass now lying yonder."</p> + +<p>His words sent a shudder through the room, and +Thomas was vexed he had spoken them ere they were +well out of his mouth, for they seemed to goad the Vicar +into a state of active terror which gave him energetic +utterance. The more vulgar of the jury pricked up their +ears at the sound of scandal, and one of them said—"Can +you give us a clue then as to how this poor girl came to +drown herself?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, for God's sake don't," the Vicar interposed, starting +to his feet, and stretching forth his hand beseechingly +towards the labourer; "for God's sake don't expose it, +Wanless." Then he collapsed again, and began to weep +violently, so that Wanless felt sorry for him, and was relieved +when the loud voice of the coroner was heard again +ruling that "it was quite unnecessary to rake up disagreeables." +He saw the "aristocracy in the business," in short, +and it pleased him to be strict. Thomas, therefore, was +asked a number of venture questions, whether he knew +where the deceased lived, or whether he was aware of her +circumstances, &c., questions to which he had mostly to +answer "No." His examination was, therefore, soon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +ended, and the coroner was beginning to tell the jury that +it was a common case, requiring the usual verdict, +"Suicide while in a state," merely, when, to everybody's +surprise, the Vicar intimated that he had a statement to +make.</p> + +<p>He rose, trembling visibly, and looked round with a +vacant eye till he caught sight of Wanless, who had fallen +back, and was standing near the door. Then his look +changed, and, with something like energy, he exclaimed—"I +wish to ask you, gentlemen, not to believe what that man +says. He has a spite against my family, and against the +family at——" Here he stopped suddenly, afraid to +mention the name of his child's destroyer, and the solemn +voice of the peasant was heard saying—"God forgive you, +Josiah Codling," softly, as if to himself. But the Vicar +heard, and his trembling increased so much that when a +blunt juryman interposed with—"How do you account +for your daughter's suicide then?" he could only stammer +a feeble—"I'm sure I cannot say."</p> + +<p>"But surely you knew her whereabouts—what she was +doing?"</p> + +<p>"N-n-no, I cannot say I did quite. My wife—that is +her mother—told me that she was visiting an aunt in +Kent, and I believed it was so."</p> + +<p>"But were there no letters, then? Didn't your +daughter write to you at times?" persisted the juryman, +though the coroner began to fidget and look black.</p> + +<p>"Letters!" repeated the Vicar, as if struck with a new +idea; "no, I believe not. Yes, I think she did write to +her mother—to my wife that is to say. At least I saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +the envelope of one letter. I picked it out of the coal +scuttle in the breakfast room, but Adelaide—that is my +daughter—did not write to me—not that I recollect."</p> + +<p>"Humph! I see, 'grey mare the better horse,'" +muttered the juryman—a bluff, not unkindly-looking man, +and then there fell a moment of deep silence on the +Court. The Vicar stood, bearing himself up with his +hands on the table before him, and seemed to have more +to say. But when after a brief pause, the impatient +Coroner ejaculated—"Well, sir! have you done?" the +Vicar answered—"Y-yes, I think so. I only wished you +not to judge my child hastily," and sat down.</p> + +<p>A few moments more and the jury had given their +verdict—"the usual one" as the coroner described it—a +verdict permitting the corpse to have Christian burial, +and all was over. The majority of the jury adjourned to +the bar to refresh themselves, and interchange opinions +on, what one of them called, "this jolly queer case." +The bar-keeper himself joined in the conversation, and +Wanless heard him enlarging upon the corruptions of the +"Hupper classes," as he followed the Vicar down stairs. +But there was no danger that comments of this kind +would get into the newspapers. A paragraph about the +suicide did, indeed, appear in several morning journals, +but there was no mention of the seducer's name. Such +a thing as an adjournment to obtain Wiseman's evidence +was not even hinted. The coroner, jury, press, and all +might have been bought up by the Wiseman family, so +discreet was the silence—and, perhaps, some of them +were. The press, at all events, was well gagged by an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +infamous law of libel; and as there had been no sensational +or melodramatic incidents connected with the +girl's end, it was easy to bury all the story in oblivion—for +<i>time</i>. The "gallant" Captain might roll serenely on +his way. Nothing could disturb him here except disease +and the moral leprosy bred of his crimes. "After death +comes the judgment."</p> + +<p>When the little gathering had dispersed, the Vicar +and Thomas Wanless found themselves alone together. +Both had waited to let the unfamiliar faces disappear. +Neither had thought at the moment that this shyness +would bring them face to face. The peasant was the +first to realise the situation, and as he looked at the +broken-down old man before him, he was stirred with +pity. On the impulse of the moment he went to where +Codling stood, and laying his hand on his arm, said—</p> + +<p>"Can I be of any use to you, sir?"</p> + +<p>The Vicar started and turned hastily away, shaking +Thomas's hand from his arm, at the same time answering—"No, +no, Thomas Wanless, I have nothing to say +to you. You have done me enough mischief for one +day!"</p> + +<p>"I have done you no mischief, sir. God forbid that I +should harm you. Had it been possible I would have +saved you this pain,—I would have rescued your +daughter."</p> + +<p>"Rescued my daughter, would you?" and Codling +laughed a low, bitter laugh. "Rescued my daughter! +Why cannot you look after your own, Thomas Wanless? +I do not want your help."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I watch for my child night and day," said the peasant +solemnly. "It was in seeking her that I met yours—too +late. There is ever a prayer in my heart that when I +find my Sally I may not be too late for her also. Ah! +poor Sally!" he sighed, and the Vicar, taking no more +notice of him, he presently added—"Come out of this +place, sir. It is not wise for you to stop here when there +is so much yet to be done."</p> + +<p>The Vicar took Wanless's words as insinuating that he +wanted to drink, which was far enough from what Thomas +intended. But the guilty are ever prone to think themselves +in danger, and it was with more heat and energy +of manner than he had yet shown that the Vicar turned +and faced his fellow-villager.</p> + +<p>"Go away, you loafing, good-for-nothing fellow," he +almost shouted, "surely you have gratified your revenge +sufficiently for one day, without standing there to mock +at my sorrow, as you have already done your best to +make my name a by-word." With that he moved +towards the door. But Thomas stood dumbfounded +between him and it, and the Vicar, too impatient now to +wait for the peasant's slow motions, actually gave him a +shove on one side, and hurried outside, muttering to +himself as he went.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3>POINTS ONCE MORE TO THE MORAL OF THE POET'S +SAYING,—"SWEET ARE THE USES OF ADVERSITY."</h3> + + +<p>When Wanless crept out a minute or two later, still +feeling heart-sore at the Vicar's treatment, he caught +sight of that poor wretch through the adjoining door of +the private bar, which opened to let some one out as he +passed by. Codling was standing, and with trembling +hand stirring a large tumbler of hot brandy and +water.</p> + +<p>Wanless stopped involuntarily, and then turning back +to the bar he had just left, asked for a glass of ale. It +would give him a pretext for waiting to see what became +of the poor parson. In a very short time he heard +Codling's voice beyond the partition ordering another +double glass, and the sound shocked him so much that +he put down his glass of ale half consumed, and, acting +on the impulse of the moment, burst in upon the Vicar +through the swing door of the compartment, crying, as +he did so—</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, don't, Mr. Codling. Leave that, and +come away with me. It's a shame to see a minister of +the Gospel drowning his grief in liquor. Come away at +once." And he again laid hold of Codling's arm.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> + +<p>The drink he had already swallowed had raised the +Vicar's courage, and he turned on Wanless with a look of +scornful bitterness that boded a storm. But Wanless +was also wrought to a high pitch, and there was a +commanding sternness in his eye that served to cow the +drunkard, whose wrath seemed to die within him. He +looked hesitatingly around, and at sight of some +bystanders grinning, a flush of shame spread over his face.</p> + +<p>"For shame, I say," Wanless continued in a low tone, +paying as little heed to the angry looks as he had done +to the former taunts. "Will you stand here besotting +yourself, and allow your child to be flung into a pauper's +grave?"</p> + +<p>"What business is that of yours?" the Vicar replied +sullenly, but in a low voice. "Mind your own paupers, +and let me and my affairs alone."</p> + +<p>"That I will not—cannot do—Mr. Codling," Wanless +answered. "Consider, sir, she was your child. You +fondled her on your knee but the other day, and were +proud to hear her lisp the name of father. Come away, +sir, for God's sake, the body may be gone if we waste +more time here;" and giving the Vicar no further chance +to remonstrate, Thomas seized his arm, and dragged +him out of the place away to the deadhouse.</p> + +<p>They were indeed barely in time. Some men were +about to nail up the remains of Adelaide in the rough +shell where it lay, whether preparatory to burial, or in +order to convey it to some hospital dissecting room, I +would not venture to say. At any rate, a small bribe +made them desist, and one of them even directed the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +Vicar to find an undertaker if he wished to give his child +Christian burial in other than a pauper's trench.</p> + +<p>The sight of his daughter's body, when the lid of the +case was removed, and the Vicar saw it again, moved +him more than it had done at first. The men withdrew, +and Thomas and he were left alone with it. Adelaide's +features had settled down to the calm stillness of death, +and wore a faint semblance of a smile. Sweet and pure +she looked, in spite of the soiled garments and tangled +hair; but the figure indicated only too clearly what had +sent her to a watery grave. She had been about to +become a mother.</p> + +<p>As he looked old memories rose in the Vicar's +imagination, and tears gathered in his dull, sodden eyes. +He stooped tremulously and kissed the cold brow. "Poor +Addy, poor Addy," he murmured, "to think that you +should have come to this," and he sobbed outright—weeping +like a child. Like a child too, when the passion +was over, he surrendered himself to the guidance of Wanless, +without further resistance, who hurried him off to the +undertaker. He would like, he said, to have <i>her</i> buried +that evening; but that the people said they could not +manage; so it was at last arranged to take her to +Highgate Cemetery next morning. Thomas had then +to find a place where the Vicar could pass the night, for +the old man had intended to go home that evening, and +ultimately he deposited him at the Tavistock Hotel.</p> + +<p>"Will you have something to drink before you go?" +said the Vicar, when he had arranged for his bedroom, +evidently wanting a pretext for drinking himself, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +Thomas said "No," and went away to eat a frugal +supper in a humble coffee-shop in Drury Lane.</p> + +<p>They buried Adelaide next morning, Thomas again, +though with difficulty, obtaining leave of absence. As +soon as he saw Codling, Thomas knew that he had been +drinking hard the previous night. The poor man's +hands shook as with the palsy, his step was unsteady, +his eye dull and bloodshot. A low fever seemed to +consume him; yet he obviously felt keenly that morning +the errand he and the labourer were upon, and though +he hardly spoke a word all the way to the grave, he no +longer looked at his companion with sullen anger. +Rather he seemed to cling to Thomas as a woman clings +to her natural protector. And when the earth fell on the +coffin lid as the last words of the solemn burial service of +the Church of England were uttered—solemn even when +gabbled over by the unhappy creatures who have to +repeat it every day, and all day long—he broke down +again, sobbing and weeping like a child. They waited +till the last sod had been placed over the lost Adelaide, +and ere he went away the Vicar knelt on the damp +earth, praying and weeping bitterly. Then he rose and +stretched out his hand to Wanless, whose cheeks were +also wet with tears, as if seeking one to lead him. +Thomas grasped it, and pressed it, with "God bless and +have mercy on you, sir, and on her as lies here."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Thomas"—it was the first time the Vicar had +called him kindly as of old by his Christian name—"ah! +Thomas, my friend, and may God bless you for +what you have done this day. But for you I would have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +deserted my child in death, as I did in life. God forgive +me for it."</p> + +<p>These words seemed to open his heart, so that he +talked to Wanless, all the way back to town, in an eager +way, like one who had a confession to make, and could +taste no peace till it was done. A sad history enough it +was of domestic bitterness, of an enfeebled will, knowing +what was right, and doing it not. His impulse was to +seek his daughter, just as Thomas's had been, but Mrs. +Codling would not hear of it. Her pride did not even +allow her to admit that the girl had gone away after her +betrayer. She talked of a visit to a relative at a distance, +who was her own step-sister, and of Adelaide herself being +ill in Kent, poor thing—not in any danger, but not strong +enough to return yet—with many lies of a like kind, +which the Vicar was weak enough to endorse by his +silence.</p> + +<p>Wanless also spoke of his quest and his sorrow, and +the Vicar listened with sympathy; but when the peasant +ventured to urge that it was his duty to denounce, and +expose the ravenous wolf, who had destroyed the peace +of so many families, Codling shook his head and +answered—"No, no, Thomas, I cannot; I dare not. It +is too late."</p> + +<p>"Why too late, sir? Are you not a minister of Christ, +and bound by the office you hold to denounce the sinner +and his sin?"</p> + +<p>The Vicar shuddered, and sat still for more than a +minute without answering. Then he bent forward and +took Thomas's hand—they sat on opposite sides of the cab.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thomas," he said sadly, "you remember that day of +the row in my garden, between you and—and that fiend +in human shape. You called me a poor tippling creature +that day, and it was true."</p> + +<p>"No, no, and I was very sorry," Wanless began—</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it was," the Vicar interrupted, "I hated you +for exposing me thus; but I felt and knew it was true. +I am not a drunkard, Thomas, as the world measures +drunkenness, but I tipple. I keep myself alive by +stimulants, and bury thus my hopes and aspirations of +other days. And I feel that I can do nothing. Who +would listen to me or heed my words? Men would say +I spoke from spite, and perhaps some even might aver +that I was myself the cause of my daughter's ruin. +Which also," he added, in a reflective kind of way, "which +also might be true. No, no, Thomas, I must bear my +burden. My—oh, my daughter, my child, my pet, when +I think of you and the past, I have no hope—I can do +nothing but tipple."</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Wanless; but the Vicar +relapsed into silence. All the rest of the way to +Paddington, to which he had ordered himself to be driven, +he lay back in the corner of the cab, silent, with his eyes +closed; but Thomas could see him ever and anon +furtively wipe away the tears from his cheeks.</p> + +<p>At Paddington, the two men, now friends again, after +so many years of divergent ways and worldly fortunes, +bade each other a sad farewell. Thomas went back to +his coals, and the Vicar went home to his wife and his +gin and water. Yet he was not quite as he had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +before. More than he himself thought the death of his +once loved child stirred the human soul in him, and he +was not able again to fall back into sottishness. Though +he bore his domestic woes silently, and still drank to dull +the gnawing at his heart, he became more tender towards +the poor among his flock, more attentive to their wants, +more accessible, and softer in manner towards all men. +He even preached with sad pathos that woke responsive +sympathy in the hearts of his flock, though he did not +denounce the ravisher.</p> + +<p>But the best proof of all that he had changed much +for the better, is found in his conduct to Mrs. Wanless. +The memory of the help and sympathy he had received +from the old, despised labourer in London, lay warm in +his heart, and found frequent expression in visits to the +labourer's wife while she was alone, or to both husband +and wife, when Wanless came back. The very day after +he returned from London, he called and told Mrs. +Wanless that he had seen her husband, and that he was +well. He made no allusion to other matters, but he +patted the head of Sally's child, and sighed as he went +away. Perhaps the kindly warmth with which these +simple people always greeted him, helped to soothe +his later years. In giving he received more than he +gave.</p> + +<p>In the village the end of his daughter was never +rightly known. Wiseman naturally never breathed a +word. Rarely was his face seen in Ashbrook, and never +in the church while the old Vicar lived. Mrs. Codling +gave out that the poor child had been suddenly cut off<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +by fever, and went the length of donning mourning, +bemoaning the loss to her friends, braving the scorn of +all true hearts, and vainly imagining she was believed, +But the people guessed that Adelaide had not died so, +and they suspected that Wiseman was at the bottom of +her disappearance, though the story of her having +committed suicide never got general credence in the +village—was only a faint rumour there. So all pitied the +poor Vicar, despised his uppish, false-hearted wife, and +most hated the young squire. Riches and high station +cannot shut men out from the moral results of their deeds, +any more than they can ward off death. Nay, Mrs. +Codling herself, high as she held her head, well as she +acted the part of a sorrowing mother who had been heart-broken +by the unexpected news of her dear daughter's +sudden death, so prostrated as to be unable to go and see +her laid in her grave—even Mrs. Codling felt in some +sense that this was true. She grew harder in her ways, +and more and more haggard in her looks, like one even at +war with herself, and ever losing in the fight—till within +three years God took her, and she knew her folly.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h3>OPENS TO THE INWARD EYE THE CHASTENED JOY THAT +GLOWS, WHEN THE LOST ONE IS FOUND, IN THE +SOUL OF HIM "WHOSE GRIEF WAS CALM, WHOSE +HOPE WAS DEAD."</h3> + + +<p>A great additional strain had been put upon the spirit +of Thomas Wanless, by the death of Adelaide Codling, +and he was becoming too weak in body to hold to his +purpose. There were nights when he returned to his +lonely lodging wishing that he might die, so great was his +physical and mental exhaustion. At other times he felt +an impulse strong upon him to go home—to "abandon +his search for a time," as his inward tempter whispered. +But his will was strong, if strength of body or hope +might be weak, and he only prayed the more and clung +the more to his purpose, the more he felt tempted to turn +aside. "How could I face her mother again," he would +answer himself, "if I had not found her."</p> + +<p>In this conflict of mind, though not of purpose, another +month rolled by, and Thomas was threatened with want +of work. Fewer men were required in the coal yards as +summer came on, and already several had been discharged. +It was a dreary prospect enough, but what made it more +so to Thomas, were the unbidden flashes of almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +gladness that rose in his breast now and then, as the +voice of the tempter then said—"Thomas, you will +be forced to go home." He felt himself a traitor, and +inexpressibly wicked at such moments, and would clench +his hand and mutter—"Not yet anyhow, not yet," as he +strode mechanically through the streets.</p> + +<p>At last he found her. "When hope was calm, and +grief was dead" almost, he lighted on his lost child +unexpectedly, in a place where he would never have +dreamed of looking for her, had it not been for the +friendly advice of the police.</p> + +<p>All over London there are coffee-houses, tobacco-shops, +and confectioner-looking shops, whose real use is to be +haunts of vice. Thomas had learned to know this, and +his eye was always upon such as he wandered through +the streets. Perchance he might see his Sally in one of +them some night. He was crawling rather than walking +along one of the dingy lanes behind Leicester Square +one evening, about eleven o'clock, when, through the open +door of a low eating-house, he heard the voice of a woman +singing. His heart gave a leap within him. Surely that +was Sally's voice. She had been a great singer in her +girlhood, and the song he heard the notes of had once +been a great favourite with her. What was it, think you? +None other than that sweet sentimental ditty, "Be kind +to the loved ones at home." Strange melody to be heard +in such a place.</p> + +<p>The leap of hope in Thomas's heart was followed by a +thrill of anguish as he drew near to listen, more assured +each moment that here, indeed, he had found his daughter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +And was she thinking of home then—here, at the gate of +hell. He would go and see. No one was in the outer +shop, and the door of the back room stood ajar, so +that Thomas walked straight through unchallenged. Pushing +open the half-closed inner door, he paused in amazement +at the scene disclosed to him. There might have been a +score of people in that low-roofed, dingy, smoke-filled +room—men and women seated at small tables, and on one +or two dilapidated benches against the wall, some were +busy eating, all had drink before them—ale, spirits, and +even wine—stuff labelled "champagne." Through the +haze of tobacco smoke, he saw several of the women with +cigarettes in their mouths. All had a reckless, more or +less debauched air, and the women in particular struck +Thomas—a transitory flash though his glance was—as +wearing a look of defiance towards all that the world +deemed propriety. Men had women on their knees, or +sat on the knees of women, and none seemed to heed the +song. One poor outcast woman lay huddled up on the +floor by the fire, too drunk to sit, but not too drunk to +blaspheme. No one heeded her either.</p> + +<p>All these things Thomas saw in the first moment of +vision, but he hardly noted them then. His thoughts and +his eyes were for his lost child alone. The song did not +stop at his entrance, for the singer's face was not towards +the door. So the voice guided his eye and—yes, it was +she. There she sat in the middle of the room, nearer the +fire than a youthful debauchee who sat by her with his +arm round her waist. Thomas gazed a moment, and +then his whole soul went out in a cry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Sally, Sally, oh my pet, my child, I've found you at +last," and he advanced towards her, holding out his hands.</p> + +<p>The song died instantly, but in its place rose a Babel +of tongues. Thomas's cry drew all eyes upon him. +Involuntarily some of the less hardened assumed airs of +propriety, but the majority of the men started in anger, +and a few of the women began to laugh and jeer.</p> + +<p>"Damn your impudence, what do you want here?" +shouted a copper-faced little wretch, who had been lying +half asleep in a woman's lap near the door.</p> + +<p>"Get out of this," roared another, and as Thomas +made no sign the abuse grew general. The wits of the +party cracked jokes over the "heavy father doing the +pathetic business," and so on, but amid the din the peasant +got close to the table, where his child sat. The instant +his call reached her ears, Sally turned a terror-struck gaze +upon him, and then buried her face in her hands. He +could see she wept, for the sobs shook her, but to his +further entreaty to come away she made no response, and +he was trying to pull the table aside so as to reach her, +when he was roughly seized by the brothel keeper, who +had rushed up from the kitchen to see what the noise +was about. With an oath he pulled Thomas back.</p> + +<p>"What the devil do you want here?" he screeched. +"Clear out, or d—n you, I'll give you in custody." +The peasant's garb and appearance had enabled the +experienced scoundrel to guess at once what was up.</p> + +<p>Thomas turned sharp on his assailant, who was a fat, +flabby-looking wretch, whose face indicated a vicious +career in every line and pimple. At the moment it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +lit up by an expression of elfish rage. But when in his +turn the peasant seized him with a grip of iron and flung +him away as if he had been a street cur barking at his +heels, the man's face grew nearly pale with an expression +of mingled wrath and fear. The fear kept him near the +door, where he stood yelling for help, calling on "Jim" +to come and turn this intruder out, volleying oaths and +blasphemies, and finally beseeching the intruder not to +ruin him, but taking good care all the while not to summon +the police.</p> + +<p>"Jim" came at last—the "waiter" or bully of the place. +He was of stronger build than his master, and at once +grabbed Thomas by the collar, purposing to turn him out. +But Thomas was endowed with heroic strength in that +hour, and three such men would not have driven him from +the place. Wrenching himself round, he took his new +assailant by the throat, and dashed him back against his +master with such force that they both rolled over in the +narrow doorway. This feat tickled the company +immensely, and they fell to clattering with pewter pots +and glasses, and to shouting in derision as encouragement.</p> + +<p>Probably Thomas in the end might have been badly +beaten by the fiends among whom he had fallen, but from +that his daughter saved him. Roused, perhaps, at the +sight of the unholy hands laid upon her father, and +sickened by the foul jibes of men and women around her, +she sprang to her feet, and, pushing round the end of the table +where she sat, rushed between the combatants, and flung +herself on her father's bosom, in a passion of weeping.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do not get yourself hurt for me," she sobbed, "go +away and leave me. I'm not worth caring for any more."</p> + +<p>Thomas answered by clasping her closer to his bosom, +and then putting his arm in hers, he led her from the +house, none daring to say him nay. Oaths, shrieks of +hysterical laughter, and obscenities followed them as they +went, but the look on the peasant's face, and the +remembrance of his strength of arm, were enough to +protect his daughter and him from further ill-usage.</p> + +<p>"Thanks be to God I've found ye, my lass; found ye, +never to let ye out o' my sight again in this world," +Thomas murmured when he found himself alone in the +street with his long-lost one, and there welled up in him +a holy joy which was unutterable.</p> + +<p>His daughter hung her head, and answered not, but +she suffered him to lead her to his lodging. A 'bus took +them to the head of Portland Road, and thence they +walked. It was past midnight before they got home, +and all the house was silent; but Thomas gave his +daughter his bedroom, and groped his way to the parlour, +where he hoped to get a sleep in an easy chair—first +prudently turning the key in Sarah's door, to give her no +room for untimely repentance.</p> + +<p>There was no sleep for his eyelids that night. The +cold alone might have kept him awake in any case; but +he was too excited to feel it as other than a stimulus to +his thoughts. Past and future rolled before him—his +daughter lost, joy at her discovery, pain at the life she +had led. The grey dawn found him fevered with his +thoughts, shivering in body, burning at the heart. Nevertheless,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +he had resolved to go home that day by the +early train; and with that view he roused the landlady +to beg an early breakfast for himself and his child. "I have +found my lass," was all he ventured to explain, and the +woman answered she was glad to hear it. In his eagerness +to go home he forgot to tell the coal agent for whom +he worked, and forgot also to draw four days' wages due +to him—did not remember till the day after he and his +daughter reached Ashbrook.</p> + +<p>When Sarah, in answer to her father's summons, came +down to breakfast in the front kitchen, it was easy to see +that she also had slept little. Her eyes were swollen +and red, and she could not eat anything. A cup of hot +tea she swallowed, and that was all. Her father spoke +to her in the old familiar Warwickshire dialect, and urged +her to "eat summat, as she had a long day's journey +afoore her," but Sally could not, and to all he spoke +answered only in monosyllables. Not until he began to +talk directly of going "home" did she wake to anything +like animation. The very sound of the word made her +weep, and her father led her away to his own room to +reason with her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't ask me to go back," she cried; "I cannot, +I cannot; I'm fit only to die."</p> + +<p>But her father soothed her, talked to her of her lonely +mother watching for her coming, praying to see her child's +face again before she died; and when that did not move +her, he bade her think of her little babe she had left last +year. "How could ye like her to grow up a-lookin' for a +mother, Sally, lass, an' not findin' one?" That seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +to touch her more than all his assurances that no one +would ever reproach her or cry shame upon her in her own +father's house. Still she yielded not, but cried out that +she was lost to them all, to every good in this world. +"You might not blame me openly," she said, "but I +would have the feelin' in my heart all the time that I was +a shame an' disgrace to you, and that pity alone kept you +from telling me so. No, no, no, I will not go back to +Ashbrook."</p> + +<p>"Look here, then, Sally," said her father at last, "if +you wonnot go back, I'll stay by you. My mind's made +up. I'll never lose sight of ye again, not while I'm alive; +and if you wonnot go home wi' me, I must bide wi' you. +There is no other way. It will kill your mother, and it will +kill me, an' leave your child an outcast orphan, but ye are +determined, an' it must e'en be so."</p> + +<p>This staggered her, but still she yielded not, thinking, +doubtless, that her father meant not what he said, till at +last, in despair, he told her the story of Adelaide Codling. +He spoke of her despairing looks, her rapid descent from +wild gaiety to death, of her last farewell to this world, +of her lonely grave, and her poor, old, broken-hearted +father, and wound up by asking—"Will you face an end +like that, Sally? Dare you do it, my child? When I +saw her jump on the bridge I thought it was you," he +added, with a look that went straight to his daughter's +heart. The story had at first been listened to in dogged +silence. Then the girl's tears began to flow, at first +silently, at last with convulsive sobs. Her father held +out his hand as he ceased speaking, and she, moved so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +deeply as to be lifted out of herself, laid both her hands in +his, and said—</p> + +<p>"Father, I'll do as ye wish. I'll go home wi' ye." +He drew her down on her knees beside him, and prayed +fervently for mercy and forgiveness for them both. "But +my heart was too full to beg," he afterwards said to me. +"I could only give God thanks for his infinite mercy in +restoring my lost child."</p> + +<p>They missed the morning train, and had to wait till the +evening. In the interval Sarah had stripped off the tawdry +ornaments she wore, and plucked a gaudy feather from +her hat—pleasant incidents which her father noted. In the +middle of the night almost they reached the old cottage +in Ashbrook, and both were glad that the darkness hid +them from every eye save God's.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<h3>MAINTAINS THAT FOR THE WRONG SIN-BURDENED +MORTAL NO SLEEP IS SO SWEET AS THE LAST +LONG SLEEP OF ALL.</h3> + + +<p>There was deep joy in Mrs. Thomas Wanless's cottage that +night—joy all the deeper for the pain that lay beneath it. +Mrs. Wanless was not a demonstrative woman at any +time, but that night she embraced her daughter again +and again, and held her to her heart with passionate +eagerness. Sarah was sad, and after the first momentary +flash of delight, shrank back within herself. She went +and looked at her child sleeping quietly in its grandmother's +bed, but did not kiss or caress it. The joy of +the parents was dimmed at sight of this indifference, but +when Sarah had retired to rest, Thomas did his best to +encourage his wife to hope. "It will soon be all right +between mother and child," he prophesied, and this no +doubt was their hope. It was long, however, ere they +saw any fulfilment of it. In truth, shame took so deep a +hold on Sarah's mind that she became a sort of terror to +herself. She was so crushed by the past, so utterly +incapable of rising out of the darkness that shrouded her +mind, that it is probable she would again have fled from +her father's roof had she not been prevented by illness.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +The life of false excitement she had led in London had +sapped her constitution, and she had not long returned +when her health began to give way. Fits of shivering +seized her, then a hacking, dry cough, which could not be +dislodged. Her complexion grew transparent, her eye +preternaturally bright. She was, in a word, falling into +consumption, and in all probability would not live long +to endure her misery. This was doubtless the kindest +fate that could now befall her, but it was a new grief to +her parents when they awoke to consciousness of the +fact that this lost one, so lately found again, was slowly +vanishing from their sight for ever.</p> + +<p>She herself grew happier in the prospect of early death, +and from being silent and cold became gentle, opener in +her manner, and more kindly to all around her, as if striving +by her tender care of her child and her grateful affection +for her parents to make the last days of her life on earth +a sweet memory. After a time, too, as she became +weaker, her heart moved her to talk of the past, and she +bit by bit told her mother the story of her flight and her +life in the great city. The sum of it all was misery, an +agony of soul unspeakable, from which she ultimately +found no escape save in drink. Her own motive in running +away after Adelaide Codling was not very clear even to +herself. Some vague idea of finding that other victim, +and of rescuing her from the doom that she herself was +stricken by, she had, but the governing motives were +shame and pride. Once in the gate of Hell, which +London is to tens of thousands every year, she tried to +get access to Captain Wiseman, and haunted the entrance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +of his barracks for a week, but he came not. She did see +him at a distance two or three times afterwards, but +women such as she was now dared not approach so great +a person in the open streets by day. With more persistence +she sought for Adelaide Codling, but with no +better success. The only occasion when she got near +enough to speak to that poor girl was one day that they +met by a shop door in Regent Street. Adelaide came +forth gorgeously dressed, and carrying her head high just +as Sarah passed. They recognised each other, and +Sarah stopped to speak, but the other turned away her +head with a toss like her mother's, and hurried off.</p> + +<p>Soon the peasant's daughter had to abandon all +thoughts of others, and face hunger for herself. Her +money and trinkets found her in food and lodgings but +for a few short days, and then she, having obtained no +situation, had to leave the servants' home where she had +at first found refuge, and—either starve or take to the +streets. Her sin had branded her; she had no "references," +and no hope. Had courage only been given her she +would have died, but she dared not. It seemed easier to +go forth to the streets. The raging "social evil" that +mocks in every thoroughfare Christianity and the serene, +tithe-sustained worshipping machinery of the State, +offered her a refuge. There she could welter and rot if +she pleased, fulfilling the excellent economy of life +provided for us in these islands. The army composing +this evil only musters some 100,000 in London, and is +something altogether outside the pale of established and +other Christian institutions.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> + +<p>That summer and winter when the lost Sarah faded +away and died was a hard time for Thomas Wanless and +his wife. Work was precarious, and thus, added to the +pain of seeing their child fade away, was the bitter sense +of inability to do all that was possible to prolong her life. +Nearly all the labourer's savings had disappeared during +Thomas's long quest. But they struggled on, complaining +to none but God, nor did their trials break their trust in +His help. They felt that the kindness with which all +friends and neighbours treated them in their sorrow was +a proof that the Divine Father of all had not forgotten +them. And their daughter herself became a consolation +to their grief-worn spirits. A sweet resignation took +possession of her mind as she neared the end. The +passions of life died away, and the clouds that had hidden +her soul for the most part disappeared. Her parents +might dream for moments, when her cheeks looked +brighter than usual, that she would recover, but she herself +knew that death was near, and thanked God.</p> + +<p>During this time the Vicar—poor old man—came +oftener than ever to the labourer's cottage. He could +not be said to assert himself against his wife in doing so, +for he came as if by a power stronger than his own +wrecked will. When he was seated by the labourer's +fireside, he seemed to be at peace. Often for an hour at +a time he hardly spoke, but just sat still and looked with +a sad kindliness, pathetic to behold, on the wasting form +before him, and either stroked her hand held in his own, +or gently patting the golden head of the little lass that +now began to toddle to his knee. And when the visit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +was over, the cloud settled down upon him again. He +went forth dejected, a hopeless-looking being, and crawled +helplessly back to the Vicarage. He called on the +morning of Sarah's death. She sank gently to rest on +a raw February morning nearly eight months after her +return, and within a week of her twenty-first birthday. +When Mr. Codling was told, he stood for a moment as if +dazed, and then asked to be led to Sarah's bedside. +There he stood, gazing long, with bent head, till the +tears rose and blinded him. With them the higher +emotions of his soul welled up within him, and he turned +and took the hand of Wanless, who stood by his side.</p> + +<p>"Thomas, my friend," he said, "I envy your daughter +that rest. I, too, long to be as she is. Life has become +all a waste desert to me; oh, so dreary, dreary." Then, +after a pause, he went on—"And I envy you, Thomas, +for have you not cause to rejoice that Sarah has died in +her father's house forgiven? Had it been but so with my +Adelaide; oh, had it been but so, I think—I—hope +would not have been lost to me. But I wish I were +dead—yes, dead and forgotten," and, letting go the hand +he had held, he knelt down by the bedside, buried his +face, and wept as he had wept only by his daughter's +grave.</p> + +<p>Unhappy old man. Who shall judge him; who say +that the All-pitying had not forgiven? Calming himself +presently, the aged Vicar rose to his feet, and looked +again on the dead face, so different in its white purity +and smile of peace from the one he had looked on in +London. He bent and kissed it, and then suffered the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +grief-worn but calm old labourer to lead him quietly +away. "God bless you and comfort you, sir, and give +you His peace," was all that Thomas trusted himself to +utter; but sorrow had made these men brothers indeed.</p> + +<p>Although Thomas and his wife knew in their hearts +that Heaven had been merciful to their child and to +themselves in taking her away, their sorrow was nevertheless +keen. Nay, in some senses it was keener, because +the "might have been" rose before the mind. Here was +in truth a waif—a lost one—mercifully removed from +further sorrow, but had there been no wreck, how short +would her life have seemed, how sad its early close. In +Wanless's life, therefore, few days were darker than the +day on which he laid Sarah to rest beside the long-lost +little ones in the old churchyard. It was little consolation +to him that half the village gathered reverently to the +funeral, and yet as he thought of the other grave by which +he had stood not many months before, his spirit was +somehow soothed. The contrast must have struck the +Vicar likewise, but he made no sign. He insisted, however, +on reading the burial service himself, in spite of the +remonstrances of his young curate, who usually did this +work. Bareheaded and trembling, pale, and feeble looking, +with his white thin hair fluttering in the icy breeze, the +sight of their old pastor that day drew tears to many eyes. +His tremulous voice seemed more solemn to the listeners +that day than ever before, and they loved and pitied the +frail old man. More than one villager remarked to his +neighbour as they left the grave that he "did not think +Mr. Codling would be long in following Sally Wanless."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was in truth to be so. The Vicar did not live long +after, but his was not the next burial. Before he went—months +before—old Squire Wiseman died and was buried +in the family vault, with the pomp and circumstance that +became his station. No one sorrowed at his death, but +the lack of grief was hidden by the abundance of display. +All the army of underlings were put in mourning at the +new squire's expense. Cecil was now lord of the Grange, +and one of his first steps was to make it too hot a place +for his mother, by filling it with debased men and women—titled +fledglings and their harpies, horsey men, and +sharpers. The wealthy marriage his mother had sought +for him never came off. An Irish peer, needy as Wiseman, +but with a more marketable commodity in the shape of +his title, had swooped down and carried off the prize. +The carpet or "turf" soldier consequently came to his +inheritance buried in debt, but that seemed to make him +only the more extravagant. His true place was the gutter, +but the land was entailed, tenants were squeezable, and +though hard up, the new squire floundered on, cursing and +a curse.</p> + +<p>His debts should have ruined him, but they merely +ruined his tenants, impoverished the land, and made those +driven to depend on him as beggarly as their master. The +weight of this rottenness lay heaviest of all on the +labouring poor, who stood undermost in the social scale. +Poor farmers meant less labour, badly tilled soil, reduced +wages, and the hinds became a picture of misery. All +Ashbrook parish suffered for the sins of this sprig of the +aristocracy. What of that! Are the sacred, priest-sanctioned,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +bishop-blessed rights of property to be +interfered with because the people want bread? That +would be contrary to all law and order, as established by +these delicate perverters of the Hebrew Scriptures.</p> + +<p>No; better far let the people starve; let the mortgages +squeeze those who do not own; make the fair earth +bestowed on man—to be cultivated, tended, and rendered +fruitful—a waste howling desert, peopled by wild animals, +for whose shooting, wealthy pelf-rakers from the centres +of trade are ready to pay high rents. Next to our +heaven-bestowed Poor Law, the Law of Entail, which +binds the land to a name or a family, has been the greatest +factor for evil in the national life of England. It has +preserved our "institutions;" gives continuity to our +history, men assert. Perish the people then, but hold fast +to this sheet anchor. "It preserves scoundrels from +justice, and the fate they have earned," by reformers. +What of that? These men have the right to be +abominable—you and I, the workers and the sweaters, +the privilege only to bear their abominations.</p> + +<p>It has always struck me, though, that the fetish +machinery of the English Establishment is imperfect in +one particular. While in actual fact all "lord" bishops, +and most preachers therein, determinedly oppose whatsoever +would emancipate the people from their bondage, +the best of them never daring to strike boldly at the root +of the evils that threaten England with extinction, that +fill the land with misery, that huddle the bulk of our +population into the fever dens of her cities—it has struck +me, I say, that their liturgy is incomplete, almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +hypocritical. A prayer like this should be inserted among +the collects of the day, instead, say, of the collect for +peace, which comes so ill from the lips of men whose +ambition is usually to train some of their children as +licensed men-slayers. Let the lawn-sleeved "lord" +bishops look to it, then, and take this hint:—</p> + +<p>"Sanctify might, O Lord, against right, and make it +stronger and stronger. Bless iniquities in high places, +and cause the hypocrisy of princes to be exalted in the +eyes of the people. Protect the nobility and gentry in +their harlotry, and let holiness be measured by the +fineness of the garments. Grind the poor in their poverty, +and cause them to pay that they owe not. And O Lord, +we beseech Thee, suffer not the oppressed to have justice, +lest they rise up against us and refuse to give us the tithes +we have filched from the indignant. These things do, +O Lord, and our lips shall praise Thee."</p> + +<p>If you will honestly pray thus, serene "lord" bishops, +much-wrangling, gorgeously-embroidered deans, vicars, +and incumbents, you will earn the respect of honest men. +Whatever you do, I beseech you go not on as you do now, +lest the people should one day <i>act</i>. They think not a +little even now.</p> + +<p>Fare ye well, then, Cecil Wiseman, sham soldier, horse +racer, blasphemer, drunkard, seducer, sot, farewell! The +upper world "society" protects you, the Church shields +you, nay, the priest must e'en bow when you abduct his +daughter, and the very Jews themselves, wholesome +scourge of your class though they be, cannot utterly ruin +you—here. Go your ways—I leave you to God. What<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +witness, think you, will that diseased body, that bloated +face and hang-dog look of yours, bear against you in the +judgment? In that day your very victims may pity +you.</p> + +<p>And has not the judgment already come on your +mother—cast out, despised, lonely, poor as she is? +Alone, she lives in her little jointure house at Kenilworth, +white-haired, feeble, full of bitterness of spirit. All the +glory of her life has gone. The meanest servant in +Warwickshire may look down on her with commiseration. +Your sins have torn what heart she had, and she begins +to awake to the fact that the law of compensation, the +dim foretaste of divine justice, can reach even such as she. +To her likewise let us bid adieu.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<h3>BRINGS US ALL TO THE JOURNEY'S END.</h3> + + +<p>The closing years of Thomas Wanless's life were years +of peace. His strength never came back to him after his +daughter's death. Indeed, all the summer that followed +it he was beaten down by his old complaint rheumatism, +but there was no dread of the workhouse and the pauper's +grave upon him now. His boy, Thomas the younger, +was prospering in the New World, where landlordism +had not yet grown a curse, and insisted on sharing his +modest wealth with his parents. Had the old man been +well he would probably have sturdily refused this help, +but as things were he bowed his head and took what +God had given, thankful to his son, thankful to Heaven, +and rejoicing above all things that his boy—his three +children that remained—were delivered from the life that +he himself had led. But what would his end have been +save for this assistance? Assuredly a pauper's. Nothing +could have saved him from that fate. The doom of the +labourer is written. It is part of the recognised glory of +the English constitution that he shall die in misery as he +lives; that if he becomes disabled, his shall be the +pauper's dole.</p> + +<p>The prosperity of young Thomas rendered Thomas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +and his wife less reluctant to let their other children go +to Australia. They clung to them, of course, and would +have fain kept them, as it were, within sight.</p> + +<p>Old Mrs. Wanless was heart-broken at the thought of +losing Jane, but she bore her sorrow and made no +complaint, when her husband, his own heart torn with +grief, said—"Let the lass go. There is hope for her and +her husband yonder. Here there is none." Jane therefore +married her young gardener in the autumn of the +year of Sarah's death, and went away to join young +Thomas in Victoria. And the soldier-boy, Jacob, went +with them. His time of soldiering was not ended, but his +brother Thomas bought him off, and assisted them all to go +to the new country. Jacob was the labourer's prodigal son, +and was loved accordingly. While he soldiered his +parents hardly ever saw him, but he spent a couple of +weeks at home before setting sail for Australia; and then +the strength of his nature, its likeness to that of his +father, and the trials he had endured, brought the old +man and him very near to each other. Thus the wrench +of parting was keenest for old Thomas in his case, because +the joy had been but a flash of light in a dark existence.</p> + +<p>"I will never see your face again," the old man said to +his children the last Sunday evening they passed together. +"To your mother and me this parting will be bitterer than +death, because you will live, and we will never hear your +voices nor see you more in this world."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, do not say that," sobbed Jane; "you and +mother will come out to Australia to us, and we'll all live +together and be so happy."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, my dear, that will never be. Mother and me are +too old to move now. We will stay behind and pray for +you. The time will not be long, and we have hope. Be +brave, my children, and be God-fearing, and, I doubt not, +we shall meet in a better world than this."</p> + +<p>In this spirit they parted, and henceforth old Thomas +Wanless and his wife were left alone with only the little +child that Sarah had bequeathed to them—alone, but not +miserable. As the keen edge of sorrow blunted, the old +people went about the daily avocations as before, serene +in appearance, if often sad in spirit. Thomas never +worked again as he had been doing before he went to +London, but he became strong enough to tend his garden +and his allotment carefully, and to do frequent light jobs +for the Scotch tenant of Whitbury farm, whose friend he +became. He was thus living almost up to the time when +I first made his acquaintance.</p> + +<p>Then, as his strength of body failed, his mind, as it +seemed to me, grew keener, broader, and more penetrating. +He read much, and watched with close interest the ebb +and flow of home politics, looking ever for the dawn of a +better day for the tillers of the soil. When the Warwickshire +labourers broke out in assertion of their right to live, +he hailed the event as an omen of better times. Too +wise a man to be carried away by the notion that single-handed +the unlettered, miserable poor could turn the +world upside down, he nevertheless viewed these stirrings +among the dry bones as the beginning of great changes. +"I shall not live to see the land in the hands of those who +till it," he would say, "but I can die in hope now. England<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +will after all be free, and the people will have their own +again. Thank God."</p> + +<p>This belief cheered his last years, and added to the joy +of his death. He died in peace with all men, long indeed, +ere his hopes for his fellow-men had seen fruition, but to +the last he declared that it was coming, that blessed +revolution when State Churches should be no more, and +squires, and fox-hunters, and game preservers, and all the +social abominations that ground the poor to the dust +would be shaken off and left far behind in the progress of +the nation.</p> + +<p>Three years have come and gone since I stood by the +side of Thomas Wanless's eldest son at his death-bed, and +by his grave. He almost died of the joy he felt at seeing +that son once more, when he had given him to God as +one gives the dead. A paralytic stroke seized him within +a few hours of young Thomas's arrival, and he never fully +recovered his faculties. Within a fortnight a second +stroke carried him off, and all the village mourned. His +son and I, surrounded by many mourners, laid him to +rest in the old churchyard beside his children, among his +forgotten forefathers. There now, to be equally forgotten, +lay squire, and parson, and parson's wife, all peacefully +sleeping, life's fever over, its jealousies and petty dignities +laid aside for evermore.</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Wanless waits still, attended by her grandchild, +young Sarah, now a bright, intelligent, well-educated +young woman. When her grandmother joins Thomas in +the last rest of all, she will be taken across the ocean to +these warm-hearted friends far away, and then the old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +land will never more see aught of this sturdy peasant +stock. But our statesmen think it a blessing they +should go.</p> + + +<div class="center"><br /><br />THE END.<br /></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="tnote"> +<div class="center">Transcriber's Notes</div> + +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>Hyphen added: "ditch[-]cutting" (p. 49), "broken[-]hearted" (p. 72), "well[-]nigh" (p. 171).</p> + +<p>Hyphen removed: "house[-]wife" (p. 15), +"ear[-]shot" (p. 58), "dumb[-]founded" (p. 62), "common[-]place" (p. 120), +"now[-]a[-]days" (p. 194), +"man[-]kind" (p. 197), "dead[-]house" (p. 210), +"out[-]cast" (p. 219).</p> + +<p>p. 2: "tatooed" changed to "tattooed" (our tattooed +ancestors)></p> + +<p>p. 27: "enthusiam" changed to "enthusiasm" (the feverish enthusiasm of inexperience).</p> + +<p>p. 27: "portentiously" changed to "portentously" (shook their heads portentously).</p> + +<p>p. 34: "meeeting" changed to "meeting" (the meeting was to be held).</p> + +<p>p. 35: "wizzened" changed to "wizened" (Grey +wizened faces).</p> + +<p>p. 41: "diarymaid" changed to "dairymaid" (the dairymaid will marry).</p> + +<p>p. 59: "famalies" changed to "families" (the pleasure their families would have).</p> + +<p>p. 85: "of of" changed to "of" (sobriquet of Methody Tom).</p> + +<p>p. 91: "upheavel" changed to "upheaval" (that curious +upheaval).</p> + +<p>p. 96: "possibilites" changed to "possibilities" (did not consider +these possibilities).</p> + +<p>p. 100: "Calvanistic" changed to "Calvinistic".</p> + +<p>p. 136: "opportunites" changed to "opportunities" (contrived that his opportunities).</p> + +<p>p. 139: "exited" changed to "excited" (her beauty excited envy).</p> + +<p>p. 144: "Mrs. Wanlass" changed to "Mrs. Wanless".</p> + +<p>p. 179: "thought" changed to "though" (weary though the +old woman was).</p> + +<p>p. 181: "charing" changed to "charring" (to go out charring).</p> + +<p>p. 188: "ricketty" changed to "rickety" (rickety, filthy, old tenement).</p> + +<p>p. 193: "Dury Lane" changed to "Drury Lane".</p> + +<p>p. 203: "Waterleo Bridge" changed to "Waterloo Bridge".</p> + +<p>p. 203: "mein" changed to "mien" (his obvious +superiority of mien).</p> + +<p>p. 220: "deil" changed to "devil" and +"screached" changed to "screeched" ("What the devil do you want here?" he screeched).</p> + +<p>p. 224: "desparing" changed to "despairing" (her despairing looks).</p> + +<p>p. 237: "Jone" changed to "Jane".</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Life of Thomas Wanless, Peasant, by +Alexander Johnstone Wilson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF THOMAS WANLESS *** + +***** This file should be named 38136-h.htm or 38136-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/1/3/38136/ + +Produced by Moti Ben-Ari and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Life of Thomas Wanless, Peasant + +Author: Alexander Johnstone Wilson + +Release Date: November 25, 2011 [EBook #38136] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF THOMAS WANLESS *** + + + + +Produced by Moti Ben-Ari and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + + + + + + THE LIFE + OF + THOMAS WANLESS, + PEASANT. + + Manchester: + JOHN DALE, 296 & 298, STRETFORD ROAD. + ABEL HEYWOOD & SON, 56 & 58, OLDHAM STREET. + + London: + SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO., STATIONERS' HALL COURT. + + INDEX. + + CHAP. PAGE. + INTRODUCTORY, 1 + I. A HELOT'S NURTURE, 11 + II. A PHILANTHROPIC PARSON, 24 + III. THE "ALLOTMENT" CURE FOR HUNGER, 31 + IV. MANUFACTURING CRIMINALS, 48 + V. JAIL LIFE, 69 + VI. NATURE OF A SERMON, 85 + VII. MEN FOR A STANDING ARMY, 96 + VIII. VERY ARISTOCRATIC COMPANY, 115 + IX. AN OLD, OLD STORY, 123 + X. THE PARSONAGE, 131 + XI. A MERE PEASANT MAIDEN, 139 + XII. HIGH AND LOW BREEDING, 150 + XIII. PREACHERS OF "WORDS", 157 + XIV. "CHRISTIAN" RESPECTABILITY, 166 + XV. TOO BAD FOR DESCRIPTION, 179 + XVI. A BETTER QUEST, 186 + XVII. NOTHING THAT IS NEW, 195 + XVIII. SWEET ARE THE USES OF ADVERSITY, 209 + XIX. THE LOST ONE IS FOUND, 217 + XX. THE LAST LONG SLEEP OF ALL, 226 + XXI. THE JOURNEY'S END, 236 + + + + + THE LIFE OF + THOMAS WANLESS, + PEASANT. + + +INTRODUCTORY. + +Some years ago it was my habit to spend the long vacation in a quiet +Warwickshire village, not far from the fashionable town of Leamington. I +chose this spot for its sweet peace and its withdrawnness; for the +opportunities it gave me of wandering along the beautiful tree-shaded +country lanes; for its nearness to such historical spots as Warwick, +Kenilworth, and Stratford-on-Avon, to all of which I could either walk +or ride in a morning. But I love a quiet village for its own sake above +most things, and would rather spend my leisure amongst its simple +cottage folk, take my rest on the bench at the village alehouse door, +and walk amid the smock-frocked peasantry to the grey village church, +than mingle with the fashionable, over-dressed, prurient, +hollow-hearted, and artificial products of civilisation that constitute +themselves society--yea a thousand-fold rather. To me the restfulness +of a little village, with its cots nestling among the drowsy trees in a +warm summer day, is a foreshadowing of the rest of heaven. So I settled +myself in little Ashbrook, in a room sweet and cool, of its little inn, +and laughed at the foolish creatures who, with weary, purposeless steps +trode daily the Leamington Parade with hearts full of all envy and +jealousy at sight of such other descendants of our tattooed ancestors as +fortune might enable to gaud their bodies more lavishly than they. These +droned their idle life away flirting, reading the skim-milk, often +unwholesome, literature of the fashionable library; jabbering about +dress, and picking characters to pieces; shooting in the gardens at +archery meetings; patronising religious shows and thinking it +refinement. And I? I wander forth alone, filling my sketch-book with +whatsoever takes my fancy, or, in sociable moods, drink my ale in rustic +company, talking of hard winters and low wages, the difficulty of +living, of rural incidents, and the joys and sorrows of those toilers by +whose hard labour the few are made rich. They are not faultless, these +rustics, but they are very human, and their vices are unsophisticated +vices--the art of gilding iniquity, of luxuriously tricking out a +frivolous existence in the most subtle conceits of dress and demeanour, +has not yet reached them. When they sin they do not sublimise their sins +into the little peccadilloes and amusements incident to civilisation. So +I love them; marred and crooked and dull-witted though they may be, they +suit my humour, and fall in with my tastes for the open air, the free +expanse of landscape, the grand old trees, and the verdure-clothed +banks of the sleepy streams. + +It was in this village that I met my peasant. He was not a man easy to +pick acquaintance with, for he mingled little among the gossips of the +place. Never once did I see him at the village inn or in church. He +lived apart in a little cottage near the Warwick end of the village, +with his wife and a little lass of ten or eleven summers--his +granddaughter. I often met him in the early morning going to market with +his baskets of vegetables, or in the cool of the evening, when he would +go out with his little girl skipping and dancing by his side. And the +very first time I saw him he awakened in me a strong interest. There was +something striking in his aspect--a still calm was on his face, and at +the same time a hardness lay about the mouth, and in the wrinkles around +the eyes, which was almost repellant. His figure had been above the +middle height; and although now bent and gaunt-looking, had still an +aspect of calm energy and decayed strength. But what struck me most was +the grand, almost majestic outline of his profile, and the keenness of +his yet undimmed eye, which flashed from beneath grey shaggy eyebrows +with a light that entered one's soul. The face was thoroughly English in +type, with features singularly regular, the forehead broad, the nose +aquiline, the chin large; and still in old age round and clean and full, +though the cheeks had fallen in and the mouth had become drawn and hard. +Had one met this man in "society," dressed in correct evening costume, +surrounded by courtly dames in half-dress, one would have been struck +by the individuality of that grand, grey face. Meanly clad, bent, and +leaning on a common oaken staff, the face and figure of this old peasant +were such as once looked at could not be easily forgotten. This also was +a man with a soul in him; ay, and with a heart too; for does not his eye +rest with an inexpressibly sad tenderness on the slim girl by his side +when she interrupts his reverie with the eager query, "Grand-dad, +grand-dad! Oh look at this poor dead bird in the path; who could have +killed it?" + +My interest in this solitary man was keenly roused; and, from the +inquiries I made, I learned enough of his history to make me anxious to +know him. But that was not a desire easily gratified. Although always +courteous in returning my "good evening," he did so with an air that +forbade conversation, and gave me back but monosyllables to any remarks +I might make about the weather, the crops, or the child. He was not +rude, only reserved and dry, and that not with me only. To nearly all +the villagers his manner was the same. Only two may be said to have been +frequenters of his house, the old schoolmaster and the sexton. Even his +wife had few or no gossips. Yet everyone seemed to respect him, and many +spoke of him with a kind of friendly pity. Whether or not the respect +was partly due to the fact that the old man was supposed to have +means--that is, that although no longer able to do more than cultivate +his little garden and allotment patch, he was yet not on the parish--I +cannot say, but it was clear that the kindliness at least was genuine. +And so no one intruded on him. All saluted him respectfully and left +him to himself, save perhaps when one of the village milk dealers might +give him a lift on his way to market. Sometimes on a warm evening I have +seen him seated at his cottage door with a newspaper on his knee, +smoking his evening pipe, and answering the greetings of passers by. But +except his two old friends, and perhaps some village children playing +with his little one, there was no gathering of neighbours; no gossips +leant over his fence to discuss village scandals and local politics. He +was a man apart; and thus it happened that my first holiday in the +village passed away leaving me still a stranger to old Thomas Wanless. + +But for an accident we might have been strangers still, and I would not +have troubled the world with this old peasant's history. I was walking +home one morning from Leamington, whither I had gone to buy some fresh +colours and a sketch-book, when I heard in a hollow behind me a vehicle +of some sort coming along the road at a great pace. Almost immediately a +dog-cart driven tandem overtook and passed me. It contained a stout, +rather blotched-looking man, who might be any age from thirty-five to +fifty, and a groom. Just beyond the road took rather a sharp turn to the +right, dipping into another hollow, and the dog-cart had hardly +disappeared round the corner when I heard a shrill scream of pain, +followed by oaths, loud and deep, uttered in a harsh, metallic, but +husky voice. I ran forward and immediately came upon Thomas Wanless's +little girl lying moaning in the road, white and unable to move, +grasping a bunch of wild flowers in one hand. Half-a-crown lay amongst +the dust near her, and the dog-cart was dashing over the crest of the +further slope, apparently on its way to the Grange. Without pausing to +think, but cursing the while the heartlessness of those who seemed to +think half-a-crown compensation enough for the injury done to this +little one, I flung my parcel over the hedge, and gathering the +half-fainting child as gently as I could in my arms, hurried with her to +her grandfather's cottage. It was a good half-mile walk, partly through +the village. The child was heavy, and I arrived hot and out of breath, +followed by several matrons who had caught sight of me as I passed by, +and who stood round the door with anxious faces. A milkman's cart met me +on the way, and I begged its occupant to drive with all speed to Warwick +for a surgeon, as the child had been run over. The man answered yes, and +went. + +When I burst into Thomas's house he was dozing in his armchair, but the +noise woke him and brought his wife in from the garden. "Oh, my God," +cried Thomas, as he caught sight of the child; and he tried to rise, but +sank again into his seat pale as death, and trembling all over. His wife +burst into tears, but immediately swept an old couch clear of some +clothes and child's playthings, and there I laid poor Sally, as the old +woman called her, half unconscious and still moaning. Rapidly Mrs. +Wanless loosened the child's clothes, and as she did so I told them what +had occurred. When I described the man who had run over the child, I was +startled by a sudden flash of angry scorn, almost of hate, that mantled +over the old man's face. He clutched the arms of his chair +convulsively, and half rose from his seat as he almost hissed out the +words--"By Heaven, the child has been killed by its own father." He +seemed to regret the words as soon as uttered, and tried to hide his +confusion by eagerly inquiring of his wife if she had found out where +Sally was hurt. The effort failed him, however, and he remained visibly +embarrassed by my presence. I would have left, but I too was anxious to +see where Sarah was hurt, so I turned to the couch to give Thomas time +to recover himself. As I did so, Sally screamed. Her grandmother had +attempted to draw down her loosened dress, and in doing so had disturbed +the child's legs, causing acute pain. + +I judged at once that a leg was either bruised or broken, and begged +Mrs. Wanless to feel gently for the hurt. Almost immediately the child +uttered a scream, crying, "Oh, my right leg, my right leg;" and a brief +examination proved the fact that it was broken just a little way below +the knee. The sobbing of the child unnerved Mrs. Wanless, and she seemed +about to faint, so I led her to a seat, gave her a glass of water, and +returned to Sarah, turning her carefully flat on her back, and kneeling +down, gently removed her stocking from the broken limb, which I then +laid straight out on the couch, propping it on either side with such +soft articles as I could lay hands on. That done, I told Sarah to lie as +still as she could until the doctor came, when he would soon ease her +pain. Soothing the child thus, and hardly thinking of the old people, I +was suddenly interrupted by Thomas. He had risen from his chair, and, +leaning on his staff, had approached the couch. He stood there for a +little, looking at his little maiden with an expression of intense pain +and sorrow on his face. Then he turned to me, and, without speaking, +held out his hand. I rose to my feet, grasped it, and, suddenly +bethinking myself for the first time, uncovered my head. The tears +gathered in my eyes in spite of myself. I knew in my heart that Thomas +Wanless and I were friends. + +And great friends we became in time. At first I went to the cottage +daily to enquire after little Sarah, who progressed favourably under the +Warwick surgeon's care; and when she was past all danger and pain, I +went to talk with old Thomas. Gradually his heart opened to me; and bit +by bit I gathered up the main incidents of his history. A commonplace +history enough, yet tragic too; for Thomas was no commonplace man. There +was a depth of passion beneath that still hard face; a wealth of +feeling, a range of thought that to me was utterly astounding. What had +not this village labourer known and suffered; what sorrow; what baffled +hope; yea, what despair; and, through despair, what peace! As I sat by +his chair on the summer evenings and listened to his talk with his old +friends, or walked with him in the by-lanes, gathering from his lips the +leading events of his life, my heart often burned within me. Yet, +refined reader, gentle reader, Thomas Wanless was only a peasant; a man +that sold vegetables and flowers from door to door in little Warwick +town to eke out his means of subsistence. His was the toiler's lot; the +lot without hope for this world, whose natural end is want, and a +pauper's grave. + +Can I hope to interest you in this man's history? I confess I have my +doubts. There is tragedy in it; it is mostly tragedy; but then it is the +tragedy of the low born. I shall not be able to introduce you to any +arch plotter; to groups of refined adulteresses clad in robes of satin +and blazoned with jewels and gold, at once the sign and the fruit of +their shame. Nor can I promise to unweave startling plots, or to deal in +mysterious horrors such as cause the flesh of dainty ladies to creep +with a delicious excitement. No; the incidents of Thomas Wanless's story +are mostly those of a plain English villager, doomed to suffer and to +bear his share of the load of our national greatness; one above the +common level in his personal qualities to be sure, but nowise above the +common lot. Those who cannot bear to read of such, had better close the +book. + +Read by you or not, Thomas Wanless's story I must write, for it is a +story that all the upper powers of these realms would do well to +ponder--from the serene defenders of the faith, with their high +satellite, lord bishops in lawn sleeves, downwards. The day is coming, +and coming soon, when the men of Thomas Wanless's stamp will invite +these dignitaries to give an account of themselves, and to justify the +manner of their being under penalty of summary notice to quit. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +WHEREIN IS SET FORTH THE BLESSEDNESS OF A HELOT'S NURTURE. + + +The grandfather of Thomas Wanless had been a small Warwickshire yeoman, +whom the troublous times towards the latter end of the last century, +family misfortunes, and the pressure of the large landowners, had +combined to reduce in circumstances. His son Jacob had, therefore, found +himself in the position of a day labourer on the farms around Ashbrook, +raised above his fellow labourers only by the fact that he could sign +his name, and that, through his wife, he owned a small freehold cottage +with about a quarter of an acre of garden in the village. His unusual +literary accomplishments, and his small possession did little to relieve +him from the common miseries which pressed more or less on all, but +most, of course, on the lowest class, during the years that succeeded +the "glorious" Napoleonic wars. The winter of 1819, therefore, found him +wrestling with the bitter energy of a hungry despair to get bread for a +family of six children. The task proved too much for him, and he was +reluctantly driven to let his oldest boy Thomas go to work on the +Whitbury farm for a shilling a week. Thomas had been trying to pick up +some inkling of the art of reading at a dame's school in the village, +but had not made much progress--could, when thus launched on the world, +do no more than spell out the Sermon on the Mount, or the first verses +of the 1st chapter in John's Gospel, and ere a year was well over he had +forgotten even that. There were no demagogues in those days disturbing +peaceful villages with clamours for education; no laws prohibiting the +labour of little children at tasks beyond their strength. + +The squires, the parsons, and the larger farmers had the law in their +own hands, and combined to keep the lower orders in ignorance, giving +God thanks that they had the power so to do. The sporting parson of +Ashbrook of that day even thought it superfluous to teach those d----d +labourers' brats the Catechism. He appeared to think his duty done when +he had stumbled through the prayers once a week in church. That, at +least, was the range of his spiritual duties. For the rest, he +considered it of the highest moment that his tithes should be promptly +paid; that all poaching should be summarily punished, and that the +hunting appointments of the shire should always be graced by his +presence. It was also a point of duty with him always to vote true blue, +and never to miss a good dinner at any aristocratic table within his +reach. He would say grace with fervour, and drink the good wines till +his face grew purple and his eyes bloodshot. If he had another mission +in life, it was to do his best to divert in sublime disregard of merit +or human wants, the charity which some reluctantly contrite sinner of +former days had left for the poor of the parish, to the use of +creatures who had excited his good feeling by their obsequiousness. + +So it came to pass that little Thomas Wanless was launched on the world +at the early age of eight, at the age when the well-to-do begin to think +of sending their children to school. Clad in a sort of blue smock and +heavy clog boots; patched, not over-warm breeches and stockings, Thomas +had to face the wintry blasts in the early morning, for it was a good +mile walk to Whitbury Farm. There, all day long, he either trudged +wearily by the sides of the horses at plough, often nearly frozen with +cold, or did rough jobs about the cattle or pigs in the muck-littered +farmyard. Weary, heavy hearted, and hungry, the lad came home at night +to his meagre supper of thin oatmeal porridge, or of black bread +flavoured with coarse bacon, washed down sometimes with a little thin +ale or cider. Often he had for dinner only dry bread and a little watery +cheese, and rarely or never any meat or milk. Supper over the boy crept +straight to bed. For two years this was the life the boy led, and at the +end of these two years his wage was but eighteenpence a week. No food +was given him save, perhaps, an occasional hunch of bread +surreptitiously conveyed to him beneath the apron of a dairymaid endowed +with fellow feeling. What need to fill up the picture of these +years--who does not know it now? The long autumn days spent watching the +corn, often, weary with watching, and hungry, falling asleep by the +hedge side. The dreary winters, the hard pallet, and still harder fare, +the scant clothing and chilled blood, the crowded sleeping rooms and +wan stunted figures; find you not all the history of lives like this set +forth in Parliamentary Blue Books for legislators to ponder over and +mend, if they can or care. Thomas Wanless suffered no more hardships +than millions that have gone before him, or that follow after to this +day, bearing on their weary, patient shoulders the burden of our +magnificent civilization. He and the others suspected not that this was +their allotted mission in our immaculate order of society; but the +concrete sufferings of his lot he could feel. For him the harsh words +and cruel blows of the farmer were real enough, and, in the misery of +his present sufferings, his young life lost its joy and hope. For him +the birds that sang in the sweet spring time brought no melody of +heaven, the autumn with its golden grain no joy. He knew only of labour, +and men's hardness, and was familiar mostly with hunger and cold and +pain. The divine order of the British Constitution had ordained it--why +should he complain? If my lord and my lady lived in wasteful luxury, if +proud squires and their henchmen trod crops under foot in their pursuit +of sport, totally regardless of a people's necessities; if vermin, +strictly preserved, ate the bread of the poor in order that the lordly +few might indulge the wild brute passion for slaughter, deemed by them a +mark of high-breeding, what was that to Thomas and his kind? Had not +those people a right to their pleasure? Was not the land theirs, by +theft or fraud it might be, but still theirs by a power none dared +gainsay? All that was as clear as day, and religion itself was +distinctly on the side of the upper classes. The Church through its +tithes shared in their exclusive privileges, and the parson of the +parish was a diligent guardian of property. On the rare occasions when +he preached a sermon his theme was the duty of the poor to be contented +and obedient. Men who dared to think, he classed as rioters, who, like +poachers and rick-burners, were an abomination to the Lord. Who so dared +to question the divine order of British society, deserved, in the +parson's view, everlasting death. Wealth, in short, according to this +beautiful gospel, was for them that had it or could steal it within the +lines of the constitution, and for the poor there was degradation, +hunger, rags, and, by way of hope, a chance of the pauper's heaven. + +It must be all right, of course; but somehow, gradually, to little +Thomas it did not appear so. Very young and ignorant as he was, strange +thoughts began to stir within him. At home he saw his father sinking +more and more into the hopeless state of a man whose only earthly hope +was the parish workhouse; he saw his mother beaten to the earth with the +weary work of rearing a family of six children, without the means of +giving them enough to eat. One by one these went out, like himself, from +their little three-roomed cottage to try and earn the bread they needed. +The girls worked in the fields like the rest. All were, like himself, +uneducated, and, in spite of all, the wolf could hardly be kept from the +door when bread was dear, as it often was in those days. His father's +wages never averaged more than 8s. a-week the year round. But what did +that matter? Had not the parish provided a poorhouse, and did it not +give bread of a kind to every miserable groundling whom it could not +drive beyond its bounds? They ought surely to have been contented. Yet +Thomas, who saw and often felt their hunger, and contrasted it with the +coarse profusion at the farm, and the pampered condition of the squire's +menials at the Grange--he doubted many things. + +The sight of a meeting of fox-hunters, and of the rush of their horses +across the cultivated land, filled him with wrath even then. The life he +saw around him had no unity in it. Thus it happened that, by the time he +was 13, though still stunted in body, he had begun to assert some amount +of dogged independence, and was driven away from Whitbury farm because +he flew at his drunken master for striking him with the waggoner's whip. + +With some difficulty he got work after this, at 2s. a week and his +dinner, on a small dairy farm called the Brooks, which lay a mile +further from the village, on the Stratford Road. There he got better +treatment. His master was a quiet hard-working man, who had himself a +hard struggle to meet his rent, maintain his stock of nine cows, and get +a living. His own troubles had tended rather to soften than harden his +nature. Thomas, though having to work early and late, at least always +got his warm dinner, and often received a draught of milk from the +motherly housewife. Here, therefore, he began to grow; his stunted limbs +straightened out; his chest expanded, and, by the time he was seventeen +he gave the promise of becoming a more than usually stalwart labourer. + +While Thomas was still new at this dairy farm, and while the remembrance +of his defiance was still fresh in the minds of farmer Pemberton, of +Whitbury, and his family, he was subjected to an outrage which almost +killed him, and left a mark on his mind which was fresh and vivid to the +day of his death. Farmer Pemberton's sons resolved to have a lark with +the "impudent young devil." Their first idea was to catch Thomas as he +came home at night, and, after trouncing him soundly, duck him in the +stinking pond formed by the farm sewage. On consulting their friend, the +eldest son of Lawyer Turner, of Warwick, he, however, said that it would +be better to frighten the little beggar into doing something they might +get him clapped into jail for. Led by this young knave, the farmer's +three sons disguised themselves by blackening their faces and donning +old clothes. Then, armed with bludgeons and knives, they lay in wait for +Thomas as he came home from work in the gloom of an October evening. +Their intention was to seize him, and amid great demonstrations of +knives and fearful imprecations, order him to take them to Farmer +Pemberton's rickyard. Once there they intended to force him to set fire +to some straw in the yard, and then seize him for fire-raising. As young +Turner said, they might easily in this way swear him into jail for a +twelvemonth. + +This diabolical plot was actually and literally carried out upon this +poor, ignorant, peasant lad by four young men, supposed to be educated +and civilised; and it might have had all the disastrous consequences +they could have wished but for an accident. A labourer on the farm +overheard part of the conversation of the plotters as they marshalled +themselves on the night of the expedition, and, as soon as the coast was +clear, stole off to warn the boy's father. Jacob Wanless and he at once +roused the neighbours; and, after a delay of perhaps twenty minutes, +half a dozen men started for Whitbury Farm, while as many took the +Stratford Road to try to save the boy from capture. + +The latter party was too late; Thomas was caught near a cross-road about +a quarter of a mile from the farm. Two disguised men rushed upon him +from opposite sides of the road with savage growls, their blackened +faces half hid in mufflers. Brandishing clubs and knives, they demanded +his name. Thomas gave one piercing yell of terror and dashed forward, +but was seized and held fast. Gripping him by the collar of his smock +till he was nearly choked, young Turner again demanded his name, and, on +Thomas gasping it out, roared in his ear, "then you are the villain we +want. You must take us to farmer Pemberton's rickyard and stables. We +are rick-burners, and will kill you unless you obey." Whereat he +flourished a knife, and drew the back of it across his own throat, with +a significant gurgle. Thomas trembled in every limb, tried to speak, but +his tongue failing him, burst into a wail of crying instead, and sank to +the ground. The scoundrels laughed hoarsely, and, amid a volley of +oaths, hauled him to his feet. Then forcing him on his knees, Turner +ordered him to swear to lead them to the place, and keep faith with +them. As the boy hesitated, they stood over him crying, "Swear, swear, +you obstinate pig, or you die," and Turner held the knife to his heart. +Thoroughly cowed and terror stricken, Thomas gasped out, "I swear." A +man on each side then laid hold of him, hauled him to his feet and led +him towards the farm, the other two ruffians acting guards, muttering +foul oaths, and brandishing their cudgels within an inch of his face in +a way that froze his very heart's blood with terror. + +Arrived at the barn, they produced a tinderbox, and, lighting a match, +ordered Thomas to set fire to a heap of loose straw that lay near the +barn door. Thomas refused. A dim glimmer of the fact that he was being +hoaxed had risen through his fears. He thought he knew the voices of at +least two of his tormentors, and he grew bolder. Twice the order was +repeated amid ominous handling of knives, but he sullenly bade them +light the straw themselves, and thrust his hands into his pockets. After +a third refusal one of the Pembertons struck him in the face a blow that +loosened three of his teeth, and made his nose bleed profusely. Then +once more he was asked to light the straw, but the only reply was a +piercing cry for help. In a moment a gag was thrust into his bleeding +mouth, and he was flung on the ground, where they proceeded to pinion +his hands and his feet. Before completing the tying, Turner hissed into +his ear, "Hold up your hand to say you yield, you little devil, or we +will beat you to death." But Thomas lay still, so the whole four of them +commenced to push him about with their feet, and to strike him with +their sticks, amid growls and horrid oaths. Then Thomas lost +consciousness. When he awoke again he was at home in his mother's bed. +His mother was kneeling by his side weeping bitterly, and his father +stood over him holding a feeble rushlight, watching for the return of +life. The boy was in great pain, especially about the legs and abdomen, +and could not move his left arm at all. His face was swollen, his lips +and gums lacerated and sore, and he lay tossing in pain till the grey +morning light, when he dropt off into a fitful sleep. A fortnight +elapsed before he was able to resume work. + +The rescuing party had reached the farm barely in time to prevent the +brutal ruffians from carrying their sport to perhaps a fatal conclusion. +Guided by the curses and laughter, Jacob and his friends had rushed upon +the savages in the midst of the kicking, and Jacob himself in a frenzy +of rage wrenched a cudgel from the nearest of them, felled him to the +earth with it, and dragged his son from amongst the others' feet. The +man he struck happened to be Turner; and, seeing him down, the cowardly +young Pembertons took to their heels before the slower moving labourers +could capture them. Turner, all bleeding as he was, they attempted to +take with them in order to give him into custody, but on the way to the +village he tripped up one of his guards, wrenched himself free, and +bolted. An outrage like this surely could not go unpunished. Jacob +Wanless determined that it should not, and went to a Warwick lawyer, a +rival of old Turner's, with a view to get redress. This lawyer, Overend +by name, was a sort of pettifogger, who laid himself out for poor men's +work. In his way he was clever enough; but, unfortunately, he often got +drunk; and, even when sober, was hardly a match for old Turner. When +Thomas's case came before the justices, Jacob, therefore, fared badly. +Overend had just enough drink to make him violent and abusive, and the +result was that his witnesses were so bamboozled and browbeaten by both +Turner and the bench that they became confused, and gave incoherent +answers; so it was not very difficult, false swearing being easy, for +Turner and his clients to make Thomas the criminal. His attack on old +Pemberton's person was raked up in proof of his bad disposition, and his +presence in the farmyard was attributed to motives of revenge. As a +result, instead of obtaining redress, Jacob's case was dismissed by the +magistrates, and he and his son admonished. The chairman of the day, +Squire Polewhele, of Middlebury, told Jacob he might be thankful that +they did not put his son in jail for assault. There could be no doubt in +his opinion that the young scamp had gone to farmer Pemberton's rickyard +with malicious intent, for it was clear that he was an ill-conditioned +rascal, and if his father did not take better care of his upbringing he +might live to see him come to a bad end. + +Such was Jacob's consolation. It took him and his son six months to pay +Overend's bill of 30s. The unlucky labourer who had brought the news of +the plot fared perhaps worse than anybody, for old Pemberton, at the +instigation of his sons, turned him off at a moment's notice. It was +nearly four months before the poor fellow could get another steady job, +and he and his family were all winter chargeable on the rates. + +As for the boy Thomas, his nervous system had received such a shock +that it became a positive agony to him to have to trudge home from his +work in the dark winter nights, and when his father was unable to go to +meet him he always ran at the top of his speed past Whitbury farm, his +heart within him palpitating like to burst. All his life long, so deep +was the impression that fright made on him, a certain nervous tremor +seized him whenever he found himself alone on a strange road on a +moonless night. + +The rest of the boyhood of Thomas Wanless was uneventful. He grew in +mind and in stature, and suffered less withal from hunger than many of +his order. At the age of twenty he took a wife, following in that +respect the habits of those around him. 'Tis the fashion nowadays to +inveigh against early marriages, and especially against the poor who +marry early. By such a practice it is declared miseries are heaped upon +them, and our pauper roll is augmented. This is an easy way to push +aside one of the most perplexing social problems that this country has +ever had to face. With the growth of wealth marriage has become a luxury +even to the rich, and for the comparatively poor a forbidden indulgence. +As a consequence of this the youth of the present day avoid marriage +with all its hampering ties. A code of morals has thus grown up which +may be said to be paving the way for a coming negation of all morality. + +A young man may commit almost any crime against a young woman with +impunity so long as he steers clear of all hints of marriage. The +relations of the sexes are under this modern code utterly unnatural and +fruitful of corruption. Nor can it be otherwise while a man is +forbidden under penalty of social ostracism to take a wife. To marry is +almost as sure a way to renounce the world, with all its hopes and +advantages, as of old was the taking of a monastic vow. What the next +generation will be, what licenses it will give itself under the modern +restrictions which outrage all that is best in humanity, I must not +venture to predict. But that corruption is spreading on all hands, that +flippancy, folly, and worse, dominate the relationships of the young of +both sexes is even now too apparent. + +But I am travelling far from Thomas Wanless's history. He at all events +felt no social restraint save that of poverty, which he did not fear, +and so he married young. The lad had, indeed, little choice. + +His mother died when he was 19, and one of his sisters, the youngest of +the family, was also dead. The other had married and gone to a village +five miles beyond Warwick. Of his three brothers, one only remained at +home, a boy of 14. William, the next in age to himself, had been +kidnapped at Gloucester, and carried off to sea in a Government ship; +and the other boy, Jacob, had a place as stable-boy at Melton Priory, +Lord Raven's place, near which his married sister lived. There was no +woman, therefore, at home to cook food for the three that were left. His +father was too broken down to dream of marrying again, there were no +houses in the miserable overcrowded village where the three could be +taken in to lodge together, and so, unless they separated, what could +Thomas do but marry? He was willing enough, of course, being, like all +country lads of his years, honestly in love; and so at twenty he brought +home his wife to take his mother's place in the old freehold cottage, +soon to be his own. Sarah Leigh was a year or two older than her +husband, and had been an under-housemaid at the Grange, the family seat +of Squire Wiseman, who was the greatest man of the parish, and lord of +the manor. Her experiences there were not, perhaps, such as best fitted +her to be a labourer's wife, and at first she was inclined to +commiserate herself. But at bottom Sarah was a woman of sense, and by +the time her second child arrived had grown into a staid, affectionate +housewife, ever cheerfully busy in making her home comfortable. + +Prudent or not, Thomas thus found himself in a humble and modest way +happy. He was now acting as under-waggoner at a farm called Grimscote, +near Warwick, and had as much as 9s. 6d. a week in summer, besides beer +and extra money in harvest. In winter his work was also regular, though +his wages were then only 8s. a week. His duties often took him +considerable distances away from home. He was frequently at Coventry and +Stratford-on-Avon, and he had once been as far as Worcester, and as his +observant faculties were keen, he took mental notes of what he saw. Full +of pity for the misery that he everywhere met, the feelings of his +boyhood became keener, and his independence of spirit more out-spoken. +Already this had attracted in a passing way the attention of the +authorities, and some even went so far as to shake their wiseacre heads +over him, and dubiously hint that he might be dangerous. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +INTRODUCES THE READER TO A PHILANTHROPIC PARSON AND A GREAT SQUIRE. + + +In the years that elapsed between the close of the Napoleonic wars and +the passing of the Reform Bill, as indeed often since, the debasement +and misery of the agricultural poor rose to agony point, and soon after +Thomas Wanless's marriage an outbreak of popular discontent, based on +hunger, stirred a little the smooth surface of society. It became +necessary, for very shame, to at least appear to do something for the +pauperised masses on whose backs "society" was supported. Accordingly, a +pseudo philanthropic agitation was started in the rural districts with +the object of bettering, or rather of seeming to better, the peasant's +lot. Mass meetings were held, parsons and even bishops threw themselves +into the movement, patronised it, and sought to guide it to a +consummation safe for themselves and their "dear church," itself then so +great a landowner. + +For rustic miseries these high personages had one main panacea, and one +only. This was not free land, fixity of tenure for the besotted farmers +always so content to lie at the feet of their earthly lords; it was not +disendowment of the Church and the distribution of its lands among the +people from whom they had been taken originally by chicane and greed; +nor was it the dismissal, with due payment, of those inheritors of the +ancient marauders and appropriators of the soil, with all that is on it +and under it, for whom the people have been kept as slaves for many +generations. No; none of these things did the servants of the British +deity, that idealisation of the sacred rights of feudal property, +advocate. Far be such traitor conduct from them. Their cure for the +agricultural distress was the "allotment system." To these reformers the +free migration of labour, the abolition of that abomination of the poor +law which prevented the poor from leaving their parishes, was as nothing +compared with allotments. Landlords and parish authorities had but to +permit the labourers to cultivate for themselves little patches of land, +let to them at a good rent, and what opulence would these serfs not +reach. + +In the agitation on this tremendous reform, Thomas Wanless took a keen +interest, and then first felt sorely his inability to read. He tried to +recall the lessons of his childhood, but could not, and was ashamed to +apply for help. Few, indeed, amongst his neighbours could have helped +him. His wife was as uneducated as himself, so he had to be contented +with gathering the purport of what was going on from those he met at +market or mill. As far as his mind could comprehend the question it was +very clearly made up. He was convinced that all this agitation about +professed interest in the down-trodden labourers would do them no good, +and he doubted whether any good was meant. + +"It's not a bit of charity land we want," he always said. "What I +maintain is that you and me an' the likes of us ought to get 10 acres or +more at a fair honest rent if we can do wi' it, and let's take our +chance. Why shouldn't I be able to keep cows and grow corn as well as +the farmer? He often wastes more than three labourers' families could +live on, and yet pays his rent. I tell ye, lads, this talk of 'lotments +and half acres, and all that, is just damned nonsense, an' that's what +it be." + +Sentiments like these did not make Thomas popular with the upper powers, +and had old Parson Field been alive he might have smarted for his +freedom of speech. But the old parson had died shortly before the noise +about allotments came to a head, and the new vicar was supposed to be of +a different stamp. He was reputed to be a favourite of one of those +strange fungoid excrescences of Christianity, the "Lord" Bishop of the +diocese, who recommended him for the vacancy, and as he was young and +ignorant of the world, he began his work with some moral fervour and a +tendency to religious zeal. The Rev. Josiah Codling, M.A., of Jesus +College, Cambridge, was in fact a young man of liberal, not to say +democratic tendencies. He had been sufficiently impressed by some of the +more glorious precepts of the faith he came to teach to wish in a +general sort of a way to do good. Left to follow his higher impulses he +probably might have led a life of active philanthropy, and the +democratic thoroughness of the Christian faith might have enabled him to +do something to lift the down-trodden people who formed the bulk of his +flock. It was well, at all events, that Mr. Codling began with good +intent. He was hardly warm in the parish before he went into the +allotment agitation with the feverish enthusiasm of inexperience, and he +also had the temerity to start a school. Dismissing the old parish clerk +who had drowsily mumbled the "amens" and "we beseech Thee's" for nigh +forty years, he brought a young man from Birmingham who knew something +of the three R's, and was rumoured to have even conned a Latin primer, +and constituted him parish clerk and schoolmaster. The vicarage +coach-house was turned into a schoolroom till better could be provided, +and the vicar and his assistant began, the one to hunt up pupils, and +the other to guide their feet in the way of knowledge. + +The farmers for a time looked on, scarce able to realise the meaning of +this innovation, but the more they looked the less they liked what they +saw. So they grumbled when they met in the churchyard on Sundays, and +shook their heads portentously over their beer or brandy punch at market +ordinaries, hinting that the "Squoire" should interfere. In their bovine +manner they soon began to place stumbling-blocks in the vicar's path. A +sudden demand for the services of boys and girls sprang up. Nearly every +farmer in the district found that he needed a new ploughboy or kitchen +wench, and the universal shilling rose to eighteenpence a week, from the +sheer pressure of this demand. Nothing daunted, Parson Codling +determined to start a night school, and if possible get the grown lads +and young men to attend. He succeeded in inducing nearly thirty youths +to come to this night class, and among the first to do so was Thomas +Wanless. Here was his chance, he thought, and he seized it with avidity. +Soon the numbers thinned away. Some left because they could see no good +in learning, but most of them because their masters on hearing of the +class threatened to dismiss them at once unless they promised to stop +"going to play the fool with that young Varsity ninny o' a parson, as +knew nowt o' plain country folks' wants;" and at the end of a month the +young schoolmaster had only seven pupils. To these he stuck fast, and +they made great progress that winter, for the poor pale-faced Birmingham +lad was an enthusiast in his way. Thomas and he became close friends, +and the former drank in the current political ideas which William Brown +brought with him from Birmingham as a sponge drinks up water. Early and +late, at every spare moment, Thomas was busy with his book, and by the +time spring came round again he was able to read with tolerable ease the +small county newspaper that found its way a week old from the Grange to +the village inn. He had read the Pilgrim's Progress, Robinson Crusoe, +and some other books lent him by the vicar, who looked upon him as his +model scholar, and took glory to himself over the labourer's success. + +From that winter forth, however, the enthusiasm of the new vicar for +education sensibly died away. Naturally fitful in disposition, he craved +for immediate results, and, if they came not, his hopes were +disappointed, and his efforts at once relaxed. The pressure of the upper +powers of his parish was also beginning to tell on his unsophisticated +mind. He met with little overt opposition, for that might have been +both troublesome and impolitic. But quiet social forces worked on him +continually to bring him round to a proper sense of his position as +local priest of feudalism. When he dined out, which often happened, his +host would chaff him on his attempts to make scholars of those loafing +rascals of labourers. Squire Wiseman in particular gravely assured him +that he was encouraging dangerous ideas among a very dissolute and +indefinitely corrupt lot of pariahs. Educate them and they would +altogether go to the devil. + +"Tell you what it is, sir," shouted a half-drunk J.P. one evening as the +vicar and some half dozen others sat over their wine after dinner at +Squire Wiseman's: "Tell you what it is; we must get you a wife; blest if +that wouldn't give you something better to do, my boy, than trying to +make gentlemen of those damn'd skulking labourers." + +The company ha ha'd with delight, and the parson blushed to the very +root of his hair. + +"Capital idea, 'pon my life!" said the host; "and I know just the girl +for you, Codling--at least my wife does, for she was remarking only last +night what a pity it was--" + +"Please, sir," said the butler suddenly, after whispering for a short +time with a maid who had entered the room, "Timms would like to speak +wi' you. He says he's found poacher's snares in the Ashwood coppice, and +he wants two or three fellows to help him watch the place." + +"Damn the fellow! can't he let a man eat his dinner in peace! Tell him +to go to the devil, Robins, and--and I'll see him to-morrow morning." + +"Yes, sir. But, sir, Timms says--" + +"Curse Timms, and you too! Do you hear what I say?" roared the squire, +and Robins vanished. + +The conversation did not get back to the subject of Codling's marriage; +and the host, after playing absently with his glass for a minute or two, +got up hastily, and muttering, "Excuse me, gentlemen, only I think I had +better see Timms after all," left the room. + +That night three poachers--a Warford villager and two shoemakers from +Warwick--were caught in the coppice, and lodged in Warwick jail. + +In two days it was all over Ashbrook village that the vicar was going to +get married. The servants at the Grange had told the news to their +friends in confidence. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +EXHIBITS MORE PHILANTHROPY, OF A MIXED SORT, PLUS A LITTLE FIGHTING--THE +"ALLOTMENT" CURE FOR HUNGER. + + +The village gossips were right. Lady Harriet Wiseman did find the vicar +a wife, though not just then. The vicar's young zeal, his vague ideas, +had first to be moderated or abandoned. Bit by bit he was brought down +to the prosaic realities of parish life, which embraced obligations +unheard of in Holy Writ. That says nothing about the necessity for +upholding feudalism. A mere twelvemonths' labour at reforming the morals +and refining the minds of the rustics by means of the schoolmaster was +not quite enough to bring young Codling to a proper sense of his +position. A few more vagaries, a little further indulgence in the +pleasure of sowing religious wild oats, and then the vicar would be +ready to contract that highly advantageous marriage, which forms the +goal of so many a parson's ambition. + +That accomplished, Codling might be considered tamed. The one further +aberration of his which we have to notice was his plunge into the +allotment agitation. As the excitement over teaching the rustics their +alphabet and multiplication table began to die out in his mind, this +new whim came handily to take its place and prevent him from feeling +like a deserter. Here, he declared, was the true remedy for the miseries +of the rural poor; he had become convinced that to educate them first +was to begin at the wrong end. The first thing was to make them +comfortable in their homes, and then they might learn to read with more +advantage. The schoolmaster was by no means to be thrown over, but +meanwhile Codling said the most important thing was that the labourers +should have patches of land to grow cabbages and potatoes. + +The vicar's new fad, as it was called, did not excite the same amount of +hostility amongst the squirearchy of the neighbourhood as his effort at +education, but the farmers liked it as ill. Squire Wiseman was indeed +opposed to the experiment, and had there been no other landed proprietor +of influence in the parish, the vicar's fuss would have left no results. +But fortunately, in some respects, for the labourers, nearly all +Ashbrook village, and a good deal of the rolling meadow land to the +south of it, and that lay between wooded knolls, belonged to an +eccentric old fellow, named Hawthorn. The people called him Captain +Hawthorn, perhaps to distinguish him from the Squire, but he had never +known more of military life than three months' service as a subaltern in +a militia regiment. This Hawthorn was an oddity. A dry, withered, rather +small man, of between 50 and 60, slovenly in dress, and full of a +sardonic humour, he was constantly to be met walking in the country +lanes, and as often as not conversing with waggoners, poachers, and +such country people as came in his way. He was therefore distrusted by +the other big people of his neighbourhood; but the common people loved +him. The new vicar had hardly been a week in the parish ere he was +warned by the gentry to beware of this old man. Old Polewhele of +Middlebury roundly declared that Hawthorn was an infidel; and the +Dowager-Countess of Leigholm, Lady Harriet Wiseman's mother, felt sure +that he was in league with the Evil One, for he was always muttering to +himself, or else talking to a one-eyed, mangy, tailless cur, that +followed him everywhere, and which had more than once snarled at her in +a very vicious manner. Her ladyship, however, had a private grudge +against him, in that he had on several occasions been wicked enough to +win money from her at cards, and take it too--a crime she was never +known to forgive. + +Whatever his relationship with, or belief in, the unseen powers, +Hawthorn alone of the landed gentry furthered Codling's latest project, +and made it a success in spite of the fact that the fitful zealot was at +the point of throwing the whole thing at his heels in disgust. Codling +felt that he had a right to be disheartened when his projects were not +adopted forthwith, and moreover, he was getting under weigh as a lover, +and that made other occupations irksome. He had done all he could, he +said to himself, and yet nobody was converted. Wiseman laughed at him +good humouredly as usual, and the farmers sent old Sprigg of Knebesley, +as their spokesman, to tell him that in their opinion "'lotments would +be the ruin of all honest labour. Gi'e the labourers land," he said, +"and they'll skulk at home instead of doin' an honest day's work for +us. They're the laziest vagabonds in creation, and the only thing you +can do is to keep them dependent on the rates, and when ye want 'em to +work, stop supplies. Hunger's the only prod for cattle o' that kidney." + +The vicar was rapidly becoming convinced that he had made a mistake, but +he had gone so far that he could hardly at once back out, so he resolved +to make one final attempt to carry his point, in which he would obtain +the aid of a brother parson. This device would, he thought, enable him +to retreat gracefully from his false position. The man he summoned to +his help was a Leicestershire rector, whose consuming zeal had induced +him to become a sort of itinerant evangelist of the allotment system. +What could be better than to get such a brilliant apostle to address a +mass meeting at Ashbrook. With the failure of a prophet to convince +landlords and farmers, Codling felt that his weak-kneedness might be +justified. + +The Rev. Henry Slocome's services were therefore secured, and notices of +the coming meeting were posted on the church doors and in the +neighbourhood for a fortnight in advance. As there was no building large +enough, the meeting was to be held beneath the old elm on Ashbrook +Green. The news excited great interest amongst the labourers who, on the +Saturday evening in July when the meeting was held, gathered to the +number of about 200 men and women from all the villages in the +neighbourhood. A strange sight they presented as they stood with +upturned faces around the waggon on which the vicar, the parish clerk, +and the speaker of the evening were perched. Grey wizened faces, watery +eyes, blueish hungry-like lips these men and women had--a weird, +hopeless-looking, toil-bent congregation of the have-nots. + +Young men were stunted and shrivelled with labour and want, and old men +were gaunt and twisted with exposure, overwork, and rheumatism. Verily +if allotments were to do these people good, the work of the self-chosen +missionary, who had come to set the country on fire, was not to be +contemned. But it boded ill for the success of his efforts that never a +landed proprietor in the district gave the meeting his countenance. +Just, however, as business began the crowd of labourers was recruited by +from 20 to 30 young farmers and farmers' sons. These stood apart, +ranging themselves on the left of the meeting near the churchyard wall, +and rather behind the waggon. They were too far off to hear well, but +near enough for interruptions, and they accordingly indulged frequently +in groans, ironical laughter, or jeers at the labourers. Two of the +Pembertons were there, the two who had succeeded their father at +Whitbury farm, and there also was hulking young Turner from Warwick, +half drunk as usual. + +The labourers themselves were in high good humour, and indulged in a +great deal of rough chaff at each other's expense. A noted poacher in +particular came in for much attention, and amongst other things was +asked if he would "haul a cove afore the justices if he caught him +snaring rabbits in his 'lotment?" But all this was hushed when the vicar +and his ally mounted the waggon and began proceedings. I cannot give you +the speech of the Rev. Henry Slocome, for Thomas had but a dim +recollection of it, his attention being too much occupied watching the +ongoings of the farmers. These for a time contented themselves with +making a noise, but that was far too tame a kind of fun to satisfy such +bright sparks long, and they soon began to shy small pebbles among the +crowd, aiming at such hats or sticks as were prominent. This raised a +clamour which interrupted the meeting, and matters were brought to a +crisis by one of these stones hitting Thomas Wanless on the cheek. It +was a sharp-edged bit of flint which cut the cheek open, and made Thomas +furious. Turning his bleeding face, now barely visible in the gathering +dusk, to the crowd, and heedless of the vicar's shouts for silence, he +exclaimed--"Lads, are you going to stand this stone-throwing any longer; +are these slave-drivers to be allowed to bully us on our own village +green?" + +"No, no, no," shouted the labourers in a chorus. + +"Let us thrash them, then," he replied, "and teach them that we have the +right to live." + +He was answered with a shout and a rush. In vain the orator parson and +the vicar gesticulated and roared; in vain the parish clerk, at +Codlings' suggestion, jumped from the waggon and tried to hold the +people back. The tall figure of Thomas Wanless, the sight of blood on +his face, his fiery looks and determined attitude, completely carried +the labourers away. More stones too were thrown, and the jeers that +accompanied them hurt almost more than stones. A conflict was now +inevitable. + +Seeing the younger labourers gathering round Wanless for an onset, +Turner, ever the leader in mischief, hastily collected his forces, and +drew them back against the churchyard wall. They had hardly time ere the +labourers were upon them. + +"Come on, boys," Wanless shouted, without waiting to form an array, +hardly, indeed, waiting to see who was following him. Clenching his +teeth and drawing himself together he dashed up the slope, and singling +out Turner, closed with him, and sent his stick flying over the +churchyard wall. A moment after Turner himself was rolling amongst the +feet of those who had hurried after Wanless. The strife now became +general, and for a time all was wild confusion. Gradually, however, the +fight, as it were, gathered into knots round the leading men on either +side. Big Tom Pemberton had been struck at by a puny little handful of +pluck, whose slender frame and pinched face indicated an absence of +stamina which ill-fitted him for a struggle with that stalwart bully. He +was instantly caught by the throat and bent backwards. Had Wanless not +happened to look that way Pemberton might have broken his back, for he +proceeded to twist him round and double him over his knee, but Wanless +was passing, and swift as lightning, his stick came down on Pemberton's +head. The blow staggered him, and made him let go. Pushing him aside, +Thomas seized the pale-faced lad and hurried him out of the fight. +Turning, he skirted along the edge of the battle to cheer his comrades +and help others that might be in distress, dealing a blow here, and +tripping up a foe there, and dodging many a stroke aimed at himself. +Comparatively scathless, but somewhat blown, he worked his way back to +the thick of the struggle, and immediately found himself face to face +with the other Pemberton, who had just ended a tough fight with the +blacksmith, and like Wanless, was a little spent. He, however, made for +Thomas the moment he saw him, and they closed in a fierce wrestle. They +tugged and tore at each other for a moment or two, and then went down +together, falling on their sides, Wanless, being, if anything, rather +undermost. In the fight that followed for supremacy, Pemberton's greater +weight, for he was fuller, taller, and stouter than Thomas, seemed to +promise him the victory; but with a violent wrench, Wanless so far freed +himself as to get his knees planted against Pemberton's body, when, with +a final tug, he broke free and sprang to his feet. Bill Pemberton also +scrambled up, and they then began hitting at each other wildly with +their fists. A kind of ring gathered round them, each side cheering its +champion, but the fight was not an equal one. The young farmer was too +fat and heavy, and Thomas's random blows punished him fearfully. Blood +trickled down his face, and he was gasping for breath before they had +fought five minutes, and Thomas finished the contest by rushing at +Pemberton and throwing him crashing amongst his followers' feet. They +dragged him out of the melee, and, their fury redoubled, returned to +make a combined onset on the labourers. Had they been at all equally +matched in numbers, the farmers would now probably have driven their +foes from the field, and, overmatched as they were, they twice forced +the labourers back on the old folks, and women still huddled round the +waggon eagerly watching the fight through the gathering darkness. + +But Wanless and his lieutenant, the young blacksmith, again and again +rallied their forces and advanced to the attack. At last, edging round +to the upper end of the churchyard, which lay aslant a considerable +declivity, they bore down on the flank of the farmers' party, with a +rush that carried everything before it. Before they could rally +themselves, the farmers were huddled together, and, amid random blows, +kicks, and oaths, driven pell mell clear off the green, as far as the +vicarage gate. There they tried to make a stand, but the momentum and +numbers of the labourers, now swollen by many of the women, were too +much for them, and they were finally chased from the village, amid the +derisive shouts of the victors. They retired, cursing and vowing +vengeance as they went. + +The fight over, the people, panting and exhausted, drew slowly together +by the waggon once more, recounting their exploits and showing their +wounds. One man had got his arm broken, and many had severe cuts, +bruises, and sprains, but, on the whole, the damage done had been +slight. + +It was now almost dark, and the crowd soon began to ask whether there +was to be any more speechifying. The old people, who had stayed by the +waggon, thought the meeting must be at an end. "The vicar," they said, +"had gone off in a huff, taking t'other parson wi' him, when he found +nary a one mindin' a bit what he said." So the labourers were in doubts +what to do. Some wanted to go home, having thrashed the farmers, "a +good nights job enough;" others thought a deputation ought to go to the +vicarage to try and mollify the parson, for after all allotments might +be worth having. + +Just as the dispute was waxing warm, the light of a lantern shone out +from behind the tree, and, coming round to the waggon, attracted +attention. Thinking it was the parsons come back, the labourers ceased +their talk to listen; but what they heard was the voice of Captain +Hawthorn swearing at his servant for not lighting the way better. The +servant paid no attention to the oaths, but cast his light over the +waggon, and exclaimed: "Here we are, sir. Here's where the strange cove +was a spouting. But, by the Lord Harry! he's hooked it!" he added in a +disappointed tone. + +"Strange cove! What's that I hear, Francis? Francis, you scamp, don't +you know that's blasphemy? Hooked it! He! he! D---- the fellow! that +comes of picking up London servants." Then, changing his tone, the +Captain almost shouted, "Help me up, Francis. I want to see these +scoundrels. How the devil is a man to get into this waggon? Find me a +chair, will you, eh?" + +"Please, sir, can't you manage to mount by the wheel, sir," answered his +servant, and after some trouble the Captain did get in by the wheel, +swearing much, and followed by his servant with the lantern. The dog +then wanted to mount also, but, being fat and heavy couldn't manage it, +so sat down and began to yelp. This caused a fresh outburst of swearing, +and ultimately Francis had to get out again and hoist the dog in, as +the brute would allow none of the people to touch him. + +Quiet and order being restored, Hawthorn stood forward, took the lantern +from his servant's hand, and, raising it, proceeded very deliberately to +survey the crowd before him. Most of their faces, and many of their +names were well known to him; and he addressed some of those he knew +with some characteristic greeting. The wounded men appeared to interest +him specially, and it was ludicrous to hear him rate one fellow for +being unable to protect his handsome face, and condole with another on +the coming interview with his wife. He discovered the countenance of his +own groom disfigured by a cut on the nose and a black eye, and he held +the light over it, chuckling loudly, till the fellow fairly ducked +under. "Ha, Silas, you thief," he said, "I have always told you that you +would get punished some day for your vanity, and sure enough the +dairymaid will marry the blacksmith in less than a month, if you show +that face to her. Gad, you'll frighten my old mare out of her wits, too, +with that diabolical figure-head of yours. You had better go home to +your mother and get it mended." + +"By heavens," he exclaimed, again casting his light on another face, +"there's poacher Dick. Were you in the fray, Dick, my boy? No, no, it +cannot be; he's been mauling the gamekeepers, and has taken refuge +amongst you lads, eh?" + +"No, no; he fought with us all square," was the answer, and the crowd +laughed, and the Captain chuckled again and again. + +Suddenly laying down the lantern he shouted, "Three cheers for the +victors of Ashbrook fight," a call instantly responded to amid great +good humour and much laughter. + +"Three cheers for the Captain," called a voice in the crowd, and off +went the huzzas again. + +"Drop that nonsense, will you, boys; drop it, I say," roared the +Captain, and added as soon as he could make himself heard above the din, +"what the devil are you cheering me for? I didn't help you to win the +fight, did I?" + +"No, but you cheered us for it," answered a dozen voices together. + +"And that's more than any other squire in Warwickshire would 'a' done," +cried young Wanless. + +"Is that you, Tom Wanless?" queried Hawthorn. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then you are a damned fool, Tom, and know nothing about it. All +Englishmen like to see pluck, don't they, you young rascal?" + +The ironical tone of this query was perceptible to all, and raised an +answering laugh of irony, amid which Wanless shouted back-- + +"We ain't Englishmen, we labourers, except when we list and let +ourselves be shot by the thousand when some big chap with a handle to +his name says, March! An' even then the big chaps get all the rewards, +and such o' the common lot as escape hardly get leave to beg. No, no, +sir; we ain't Englishmen, we are only Englishmen's slaves." + +"Drop that, Tom Wanless," interrupted Hawthorn; "drop it. Good Lord, +man, do you suppose I came here to listen to a speech from you, when I +kept well without earshot of the parsons. And, Gad, that reminds +me--Where are the parsons? Francis! Francis!" + +"Yes sir, yes sir," answered that staid person, hurriedly coming +forward. + +"Humph, making love to the wenches at my very elbow, you graceless dog. +Go and tell the vicar with my compliments, that I want to speak to him +out here in this old waggon with the bottom half out. Gad, I'll be +through it, I do believe, before you get back. Could that shouting +fellow have stamped holes in it," he added to himself, as Francis +disappeared. "Shouldn't wonder," and chuckling again at the idea, he sat +down on the side of the waggon, quite oblivious of the expectant crowd +around him. An impatient hum soon broke on his ear, and he lifted his +head and called out, "Go home to bed, you mutinous pack; you'll be +defrauding your masters of an hour's work to-morrow morning." + +"No fear of that, sir; and we want to hear what you have got to say to +us." + +"Say to you! Ah, yes, to be sure I have something to say; but we must +wait for the parson, boys." + +"Here he comes! Here he comes!" shouted voices from the edge of the +crowd, and after a little bustling the ruddy face of Codling, and the +grey head of his friend gleamed over the side of the waggon in the dim +candle-light. + +"Glad to see you, sir, I'm sure," said Hawthorn to the vicar +graciously; "and you, too, sir," turning to Mr. Slocome. "Sorry I didn't +hear your speech; Gad, you have put new life into the boys; they've +smashed the farmers. 'Pon my soul, sir, I didn't think they had it in +them. You must be a powerful orator, and I wish I had been here sooner." + +"Pardon me, sir, I have not the advantage," stammered Slocome. "I did +not cause the fight, God forbid. I did all I could to stop it; my +mission is not to stir up sedition, sir, but to preach peace." This last +remark in a tone of high offence. + +"He, he, he!" laughed the cynical squire. "Well, well, we shan't dispute +the point. The boys did fight, and well, too, as you must allow. Licked +the farmers, by Jove; and I tell you what, Mr. Vicar," turning again to +Codling, "I mean to show my appreciation of their pluck by doing +something for them. What do you propose it should be?" + +"I'm afraid, sir," answered the vicar, pompously, "I can't abet you in +your design, or lend it my countenance. I am deeply grieved that my +humbler parishioners should have so far forgotten themselves as to +create a disturbance in the village to-night. It has been my wish to do +them good, and for that end I held this meeting, and brought my esteemed +brother here to imbue their minds with the principles of forethought and +thrift. But they interrupted his address with an unseemly riot, led, I +am sorry to say, by a young man of whom I had hoped better things. +Bitterness between man and man, class and class, has been created by the +conduct of which you have been guilty to-night, my friends, and you may +be sure, though I wish you well, it will be long before I again make the +mistake of seeking to increase your material comforts." Turning again to +Hawthorn, he added, "I must beg you to excuse me, sir, but I cannot +remain here to behold a landed proprietor of this parish, the landlord, +in fact, of these villagers, acting as an inflamer of sedition," and +with lofty bow, and a wave of his hand, dimly visible to his listeners, +Codling turned to go. + +"Stay a moment," roared Hawthorn, reaching forth his stick as if to +catch the vicar by the collar of his coat. "Stop, sir; don't let him go, +boys, I also have something to say." The vicar stood still, looking +rather foolish, and Hawthorn continued--"You have made an accusation +against my tenants, and I, as their representative and spokesman, must +ask you to substantiate those charges. I don't care a curse what you say +about myself, but I'm not going to stand by and see these men slandered. +Tell me, sir, who began the disturbance?" + +"It was--I believe--I--fancy--some people on the outskirts of the +meeting--people from Warwick I should imagine." + +"Bah! can't you speak out like a man, instead of beating about the bush +like a fool? Who began the disturbance?" The old Captain was clearly +getting excited. + +"The--the farmers and--but--" blurted out Codling. + +"Ah! the farmers was it?" interrupted Hawthorn, "and would you have had +these lads stand still like asses to be thwacked? Do you mean to come +out here and deliberately blame my tenants for having spirit enough +left to resent insult and abuse? A nice parson you are--a fine preacher +of peace. Suppose it had been the other way, and the farmers had been +taunted and stoned by the labourers until they turned and thrashed them. +What would you have said then? No doubt that these wretches deserved +their fate. I hate all this snivelling cant about the obligation of the +poor to submit to whatever is put upon them." + +Hawthorn spoke fast and bitterly, and, as he ended, his audience broke +into ringing cheers much prolonged. + +Codling stood dumb, and looked so cowed and sheepish that Slocome tried +a diversion. + +"Captain Hawthorn--I believe--and good people," he began, but his voice +was drowned amid cries of "Silence--hold your tongue; we want to hear +the Captain." + +"I have a little more to say, my boys," Hawthorn answered. "My chief +object in coming here, and in asking the Vicar to come here, was to tell +you that I have decided to assign to you, the men of my own village, the +twenty acre field just by on Warwick road, to be made into allotment +gardens. I admire"--but he got no further. Shout upon shout, the men +cheered, and the women wept and laughed by turns, as if the speaker had +promised them all fortunes. The announcement was so unexpected, and the +way it was made went so about the hearts of these poor villagers, that +they could have hugged the old Captain to death for joy had he let +himself within their reach. As it was, they crowded round the waggon to +shake hands with him, hustling the Vicar and his friend out of the way, +and it was fully five minutes before order could be restored. During the +hubbub the Vicar and Mr. Slocome managed to slink away. What Codling may +have thought about his own conduct on that evening no one can say, but +he evidently resented Hawthorn's freedom of speech most bitterly. He was +disgusted also that the people should have got their allotments so +obviously without his help, and from this time forth he may be said to +have abjured philanthropy. Henceforth he found it safer and much more +pleasant to confine his attention to Church ritual and the worship of +feudalism. + +The labourers never missed the Vicar in their delight over Hawthorn's +announcement. They wanted to escort him home in a body, but he would not +hear of it. He peremptorily ordered them to go home to bed, and departed +with his servant and his dog. A few of the younger men followed him to +the end of the village, then sending a parting cheer after him quickly +dispersed. Thus ended the great Ashbrook allotment meeting. It was a +nine days' wonder in the neighbourhood, and the oddities of Hawthorn +were held to be dangerous by the squires, while farmers cursed him for +his liberality. But these things did not prevent the labourers from +obtaining their allotments, and they were thereby rendered perhaps a +degree less hungry for a time. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +DISCLOSES AN EXCELLENT, INFALLIBLE AND ARISTOCRATIC PLAN FOR +MANUFACTURING CRIMINALS. + + +Nothing serious came directly of the Ashbrook fight. There was a talk of +bringing certain labourers before the justices, and the Pembertons in +particular uttered loud threats against Tom Wanless, young Satchwell, +the blacksmith, and one or two others; but old Hawthorn let it be widely +known that if any steps were taken to prosecute the labourers, he would +not only provide means for their defence, but enable them also to raise +counter actions, in support of which he would compel the Vicar to enter +the witness-box. That did not suit the farmers or their abettors, still +less Codling, so after a little noisy squabbling the matter dropped. + +Henceforth, however, the feud, if such it may be called, between the +Pembertons and Wanless was renewed, and became on their part a sleepless +desire for petty vengeances. They never missed the smallest opportunity +of making him feel their ill-will. Thomas had in other ways enough to +bear with in those days, helped though he was by his freehold cottage +and allotment. His intelligence told against him with most of the +farmers, making them regard him with hatred and suspicion. So he got no +opportunity of bettering himself, was, indeed, hardly able to keep his +head above water by the severest labour. Many a time did he see other +and less skilled workmen preferred before him, and often in harvest had +he to work as one of a gang of reapers under another contractor, instead +of himself taking the lead. This, by and by, caused him to try and find +work at greater distances from home, and he was occasionally away for +months at a time wood-cutting, ditch-cutting, toiling early and late for +what pittance he could pick up, while his wife struggled at home to make +ends meet in spite of her increasing family. By the time Thomas was 35 +years old, she had borne him eight children, of whom seven were alive, +and it was almost more than mortal could do to bring these up decently +on 9s. or 10s. a-week. How his neighbours, who had rent to pay, managed, +was more than Thomas could divine, unless they quietly stole what was +not given them; as, indeed, most of them did. Many also were so +demoralised as to look upon poor relief as a perquisite which they +thought it no shame to accept, and even demand, on all occasions. Nearly +all poached game, when they had a chance, and boasted of it to each +other. In regard to game there was, in fact, no consciousness of +wrong-doing in the mind of any labourer, and Thomas himself thought +nothing of killing a rabbit or leveret when he had the chance; the only +anxiety was not to be caught doing it. There was a clear distinction in +his mind between slaying wild animals protected by selfish and +abominable laws, and stealing vegetables, fowls, stray eggs, or fruit, +which many of his comrades made a practice of doing, pleading in their +defence that man must live. + +Thomas Wanless had a soul above petty thieving of this kind. Not only +was he naturally high-spirited and jealous of a good conscience, but his +mind had become considerably expanded by diligent cultivation. He did +not again forget his reading, and though his books were few, he still +contrived to read enough on odd Sundays in summer, and in the winter +evenings, to stimulate his naturally strong thinking powers. His +friends, the blacksmith and the parish clerk, were also often in his +company, and the three discussed matters of Church and State in the +freest possible style over their jugs of thin ale. Poor Brown, the +parish clerk and schoolmaster, had not improved his prospects by +settling in Ashbrook, for the vicar had long ceased to interest himself +in the education of the poor, and the school emoluments had become +meagre enough. But Brown had married, and so was, in a measure, rooted +to the spot, not knowing where to better himself. + +He eked out his parish clerkship with odd accountant jobs for +surrounding farmers, and occasionally picked up a crown or two by acting +as clerk at country auctions, and his greatest earthly blessing was a +contested parliamentary election. Yet life was hard for him withal, and +his Radicalism naturally was bitter, for adversity is the best nursery +of democratic ideas. It is only the noblest natures that can enjoy +prosperity, and yet be just and considerate towards all men. Too often +the man who when poor was a blatant Radical becomes a hollow tin kettle +sort of creature when he has struggled up from the earth where his +Radicalism took birth. I say not that Brown was of this sort, but +undeniably poverty and disappointment put an edge on his wit when he +dealt with the inequalities of life, and under his leadership Thomas +Wanless stood in no danger of becoming an unquestioning pauper. The +three friends solved social problems in a style that would have amazed +their superiors had they known; nay, that they would have even startled +some of the limp and dilettante friends of the people who, in these +days, haunt London clubs, and dilate with wondrous volubility on social +reform. Thomas's Radicalism, however, never interfered with his work, +for his family was more to him than the ills of the State. He viewed +these wrongs, perhaps, from too narrow a standpoint for him to be a +great social reformer. He felt for his little ones, and for his once +blooming, patient wife--now grown brown, gaunt, and hollow-eyed from +incessant care, toil, and privation--and the disjointed order of society +was to him a personal wrong. His life was, indeed, cheerless; and after +his father died and his brother had been killed by a fall from a rick, +he often felt lonely and sullen at the heart, working against his fate +as a prisoner might in chains. For him this life had no hope, no +prospect of rest but the grave. + +Struggling bravely, though bitter at the heart, Thomas dragged his +family through the terrible years that followed the passing of the +Reform Bill--years during which his wife and children were almost as +familiar with want as with the light of the sun. How they survived he +could hardly tell. "My remembrance of that time," he one day said to +me, "is but a kind of confused dream. I ceased to think or feel. I just +worked where and when I could; and I swallowed my crust like a dumb +beast. But now I thank God that I had health, though then to commit +murder would at times to me have seemed as nothing." + +In that time Thomas became a strong Chartist, and was a leader among his +fellows; and, feeling as he did, it says much for his force of character +that there were no outbreaks by the Ashbrook villagers such as occurred +in many parts of Warwickshire at that time. His opinions, however, were +well known, and he was called a rogue freely enough by his enemies the +farmers. More than once he might have suffered unjust imprisonment for +his freedom of speech at village gatherings and elsewhere, had not old +Squire Hawthorn stood his friend. Ever since Ashbrook fight, that +strange old man had taken a special interest in Thomas. It only +extended, however, to occasional efforts to keep him out of the grip of +the justices, and could hardly perhaps have gone further, for Thomas was +proud; and, besides, he was a labourer, and in that lowly lot he was +predestined by the laws of the landed oligarchy to remain. Over the +great gulf fixed by that mighty trades union of the Take-alls he could +never pass. + +So passed the years of my friend's early manhood. He was familiar with +care; poverty was his abiding portion. A young family gathered round his +knee; which he tried to bring up in less ignorance than had been his +early lot, but whom he could not always keep less hungry. Thomas had +many times difficulty in providing his household with a sufficiency of +coarse dry bread. Insufficiently nourished his children were weakly and +stunted; little able to wrestle with disease. His two eldest boys were +sent to work for good at the age of ten; and the younger of the two died +through exposure and hunger before he was twelve. The girls were kept +longer at home, hard though the fight for life was; but the third boy +(Thomas) was taken on at Squire Hawthorn's own farm, at 2s. per week, +when he was little over nine. That same year, Thomas himself had had a +fine spell of harvesting; and his wife, having no new baby to provide +for, had saved a few shillings by selling vegetables from the allotment +garden, to people in Warwick town, so that the winter was faced by the +couple in better heart than they had known almost since the day they +were married. A pound or two in hand after meeting the bills that the +harvest money had to pay! Surely greater bliss no man could know. The +thought of such riches made Thomas declare that he might yet escape the +workhouse, as, thank God, his father had done. Already, though not forty +years old, the shadow of that accursed refuge of the English poor had +begun to loom over Thomas's future, grim and horrible as the gate of +Hell. As he thought, in his hours of bitterness, of whither his endless +toil was carrying him, of the sole "good" that the Take-alls left to him +and such as him, he set his teeth and cursed his country. Nor would he +believe that for this he had been born. His soul was bitter within him, +and, young as he yet was, hard work and harder fare were telling on his +stalwart frame. + +But this autumn had brought him a gleam of hope; and the stirring events +of the time helped to strengthen that hope. All things were changing. +The great towns had been roused into political activity by the Reform +Bill, and railways were fast revolutionising the habits of the people +the land through, as well as opening up new fields of labour. At last, +then, and even in sleepy, wealth worshipping, hide-bound England, +democracy might be considered born. Thomas was sanguine that in the +coming struggles the people would win, and, like all sanguine believers +in the future good, his belief expected instant fulfilment. The apostles +themselves lived in the belief that the end of the world was at hand. +Might not the way-worn and heart-weary agricultural labourer therefore +hope? Thomas Wanless, at least, did so. The world was changing for +others; for him and his also better times might be at hand. Hitherto, +alas, the changes had been mostly to his hurt. Railway-making itself had +done his class harm rather than good, for the new iron roads linked the +country more and more closely to the great centres of industry. Prices +of all kinds of agricultural produce went higher and higher, but without +bringing a corresponding increase in the labourer's pay. The landowner +grabbed all he could of the augmented gains, and what he left the farmer +took. For the hind was there not still the workhouse? Yet the demand for +labour was increasing fast, and not all the hungry kerns of Ireland +seemed able to meet that demand. For once Thomas and his wife had +enjoyed a good year. Was not Leamington Priors growing a big town +moreover, and going to have a college of its own to outshine Rugby +itself? Surely Ashbrook would benefit from the nearness of so much +wealth as this implied. The grounds for this hope were many and obvious. +Thomas might yet rent his own little farm, and be independent. His +ambition ran no higher, yet the indulgence of it proved him to be a +short-sighted fool. + +At this time Thomas was an odd or day labourer, taking contract jobs on +his own account when he could get them, and working for a daily wage +when these failed. This winter found him at work grubbing up old hedges, +and helping to lay out anew some land on a farm of Lord Duckford's +beyond Radbury. He had to walk about four miles each way daily to and +from his work, but as the days were short he lost no time, and the +company of a fellow villager engaged with him at the same job made the +trudge lighter. And the hopes that lay around his heart helped him more +than aught else, as they always help us poor will-o'-the-wisp-led +mortals in this dark world. + +Alas for these hopes! Thomas Wanless had not been a month at his new +work when an epidemic of scarlet fever broke out at Ashbrook, and +amongst the first to catch the disease was his youngest child, a girl of +two years. Ere ten days had elapsed five out of his seven surviving +children were down with the treacherous disease. His eldest boy and girl +had had it years before, but the boy was sent home from the farm where +he worked for fear of spreading contagion, and the girl was little more +than nine years old, so that she could not do much to help the +overworked mother. + +Crowded together in the long low-roofed attic of the cottage, three of +the five lay helpless and wailing for many days. After the first week +the other two whose attack had been slight got out of bed, but were kept +in the same room to avoid cold. The food of all was poor, the medical +attendance miserable and infrequent. Thomas's heart was nearly broken. +All his hopes vanished, and the old bitterness settled down on his +spirit. The rage of helplessness often swept over him as he looked at +his tired and harassed wife, or thought of her left alone, day in and +out, with those sick children. The little savings would mostly be needed +for the doctor's bill; there was only the 10s. a-week that Thomas +happily still earned to stand between the whole family and want. Can +anyone wonder that Thomas grew moody, and glowered at the world to which +he owed so little? + +One evening, in the middle of the third week of their affliction, as he +and neighbour Robins were trudging home together through the perplexing +obscurity of a grey November fog, the latter said-- + +"Couldn't we get a rabbit or two, Tummas? They'd make a nice pot for the +young ones, poor things; better nor barley gruel, any way." + +"I don't mind," said Thomas, in an indifferent tone. "But where can we +come at 'em?" + +"Oh, there's a warren up in Squire Greenaway's fir coppice to the left +here, just off the Banbury road. We can beat it in five minutes. Come +on," he added, seizing Thomas's arm. + +"All right, let's have some o' the wermin," his friend answered, and +presently they turned off the road, making for the coppice. + +"You keep up by the fence here, and you'll strike the edge of the wood +in no time," said Robins. "The burrows lie mostly along to the right. +Crouch down by the holes and be ready. I'll walk round the field and +drive the bunnies in. There's sure to be lots feedin' to-night in old +Claypole's turmuts." + +Thomas obeyed, and the two at once lost sight of each other. Robins, it +is to be feared, had often helped himself to a rabbit before now, here +and elsewhere, but by some chance Thomas had never yet been a regular +poacher. He could not say why, for certainly he had no respect for the +game laws. Such, however, was the fact, and he said a queer kind of +feeling came over him when he found himself alone, and realised the +errand he was upon. But his mind was in tone to be tempted now, and he +never thought of turning back. There was, indeed, little time to think +of it, for he was among the rabbit-holes in a minute, and choosing a +handy bush where the holes were thick he knelt down, grasped his stick +and waited. Presently he heard a low whistle from the field below, but +quite near, and almost as it reached his ears rabbits by the dozen came +hopping up cautiously, and with frequent pauses of watchfulness. The +foremost caught sight of Thomas and scudded to the left, whither the +whole troop might have followed had not Robins at that instant rushed +up and sent a batch of the scared creatures right amongst Thomas's feet. +Ere they could get under ground he managed to knock over three, and +Robins himself maimed but did not succeed in catching a fourth. Two of +the three knocked over were not quite dead, but Robins at once finished +them, and as he did so, said:-- + +"Look here Tummas, you takes the two big uns. You're more in need o' 'em +than me," and as he would take no denial the spoil was so divided. + +Thomas thanked his friend, and stowing the rabbits inside their coats as +best they could, the two carefully made their way out of the coppice, +and again took the road for home. + +By this time it was very dark, and the fog thicker than ever, so that +they had never a thought of danger. Yet they had not been unobserved. +Tom Pemberton, as ill-luck would have it, had been passing the coppice +while the two labourers were after the rabbits, and had either heard +their voices or the whistling, made more audible by the fog. Suspecting +that poachers were at work, and always eager to do his fellow man an ill +turn, Pemberton stopped his walk, and stole along the edge of the field +till he reached the gate, where he crouched for his prey. In a few +minutes the voices of the approaching labourers reached his ears, and +being a coward he crawled along the ground, and lay down in the frozen +ditch lest he should be seen, but still kept well within earshot. To his +intense satisfaction he recognised one at least of the men by his voice, +as they passed him, unconscious of his presence. Robins he could not be +sure of, but he had only too good cause to recollect the voice of +Wanless. The two were talking of the pleasure their families would have +in eating stewed rabbit, and doubtless Pemberton chuckled to himself as +he heard. But he had the prudence to keep quite still until the +labourers got well beyond hearing. Then he arose and went on his mission +of evil. The unsuspecting labourers trudged home in peace. Thomas with +even a flicker of gladness at his heart, a flicker that deepened to a +glow of thankfulness, when he reached his cottage and learned that the +doctor had pronounced the child who had suffered most out of danger. She +was the youngest but one, a little girl of four. Before her illness she +had been a fair-haired, delicate-looking, but healthy child, with +bright, engaging ways, and a sweet merry voice, a great favourite of her +father's. Now she was thin and worn, and her lips had become dry and +cracked with the fire that had burned and burned in her little body, +till all its flesh was consumed. Night after night Thomas had come home, +and, changing his wet clothes, had, after a hasty supper, gone up beside +his little ones to watch and tend them in the early night, while the +mother tried to snatch an hour or two's sleep. Through these weary weeks +nothing had wrung his heart so keenly as the sore battle for life made +by wee Sally. Hour after hour her little transparent feverish hands +would clutch his nervously, as she lay panting in his arms, or wander +pitifully about his weather-worn face, her burning touch causing him to +shiver to the very marrow of his bones. + +"I'se so ill, daddy; I'se so ill," she would keep moaning, and sometimes +she would start screaming from an uneasy slumber that gave no rest. +Then she grew too ill to speak, and lay gasping and delirious in the +close, ill-ventilated attic beside her two sisters, who were themselves +part of the time too ill to raise their heads. Thomas thought that death +had come for his little girl the night before he brought the rabbits +home, and the nearer death seemed to come the more agonising grew the +pain at his heart. His wife and he together had watched by Sally's cot +till towards morning, fearing that each moment she would choke. But +about half-past two the breath began to be more free; she swallowed a +little weak tea, and gradually fell into the quietest sleep she had had +for more than ten days. + +When Thomas left for his day's work she was asleep still, and he had +held the hope that she would yet get better to his heart all day. So +mixed are the motives that sway men that this very hope made him the +more ready to go after the rabbits. The savoury broth might help his +little ones--and Sally. + +So they were glad that night in the little Ashbrook Cottage. Sally had +slept till daylight, and woke quiet, cooler-skinned and hungry. The +doctor said she would live yet. Thomas went up as usual beside his +little ones, and told them about the rabbits that Robins and he had +caught, making them laugh at the thought of to-morrow's treat. He had +not waited for supper, and his wife brought it up stairs, spreading it +out at the foot of the bed where "baby" and "bludder" Jack lay, and then +the whole family enjoyed the luxury of a cup of tea in honour of Sally's +improvement. How little the labourer suspected then that the hand of +vengeance was already stretched forth to blast him and his joys, it +might be, for ever. Yet so it was, and thus does life ever mock us, +especially if we be poor. And had not Thomas sinned against the English +Baal. The sacred laws of property had been violated by him; he had +entered its holy of holies--a game preserve--and must bear the penalty. + +The thought did not quite thus shape itself in Tom Pemberton's mind as +he crept from his lair and made off as fast as the thick gloom would +permit him, to Squire Greenaway's gamekeeper's cottage; but his heart +exulted at the thought of the vengeance it was now in his power to +wreak. That very night he hoped to see the hated Wanless locked up. In +this hope, however, he was disappointed. The gamekeeper was not at home, +nor could his wife say exactly where he was. Probably she knew well +enough; and certain gamedealers in Leamington also were likely to know, +for, like most of his class, this fellow was only a licensed poacher; +but Pemberton had to be content with his answer. He told the keeper's +wife that he wanted some poachers apprehended, and that he would return +to-morrow. + +Sure enough he came, and came early, but the keeper was again out, +setting his gins probably, and had left word that he would not be back +till dinner-time. Ultimately, Pemberton met his man, and the two decided +to go and seize Wanless at night in his own cottage. Accordingly, that +same evening as Thomas and his family were enjoying their supper +together in the attic, they were disturbed by a rude thumping at the +door and before Thomas himself could get down to see who was there, the +latch was lifted, and in walked Tom Pemberton with the gamekeeper at his +heels. The latter was a squat, ill-favoured, heavy man, with small +piercing eyes that were never at rest. He sniffed noisily as he entered, +and gave vent to a gleeful chuckle as he caught sight of Wanless. Dull +Pemberton had grown fat and bloated-looking since the days of the +allotment agitation, but his usually stolid, sodden-looking features, +were to-night almost animated by the leer of triumph which had displaced +the customary sullen vacuity. Yet he was not at his ease; and when +Thomas, divining the men's purpose, drew himself up, and holding up his +rushlight the better to see the faces of his visitors, flashed a look of +scornful defiance at the farmer, that worthy drew back involuntarily. + +But the keeper had no feelings, and at once struck in with-- + +"Sorry to hinterrup' yer feast, my man; but we want ye, d'ye see. God! +what a prime smell! Kerruberatin' evidence, eh, farmer? Ye've been +poachin', Wanless, that's evident; an' the Squire'll be glad to speak +wi' ye about it. Ha! ha!" + +For a moment Thomas felt disposed to fight. A thrill of fury swept +through him, and he wished he could tear keeper and farmer in pieces +with his hands. But that soon passed, and he stood dumbfounded. Hearing +the strange voices, his wife stole down the stair, followed by the three +children who were able to be about the house, and two of these latter, +catching a vague fear of danger, began to cry. Young Tom did not weep, +but stole softly up to his father's side. But a minute before all had +been happiness, such happiness as a family of miserable groundlings +might dare to feel, and now---- + +Bah! Why give a thought to such wretches. They can have no feelings like +my lord and the squire, or his scented and sanctified parsonship. And +yet the cold night wind made these sick children shiver as you or I +might; and the stricken wife, who had caught the purport of the keeper's +speech, was just as ready to faint with grief and terror, as if she had +had your feelings or mine. Her first act was to protect the children +from harm by trying to shut the door; but Pemberton, with a growl, +pushed her back, and she then gathered them in her arms, and sat down on +an old box by the fire, weeping silently. + +Still Thomas stood, silent but not cowed, and the keeper's wrath began +to blaze up. + +"Come along, man," he growled, "none of yer hobstinincy, now. We don't +want no scenes here; none o' yer blubberin' wife and family kick-ups. +Come along." + +Then Pemberton plucked up heart to laugh. With a mocking hee! hee! hee! +he said-- + +"We've got you now, Wanless, and no mistake, you d----d old blackguard, +an' we'll tame that devilish spirit of yours afore we're done wi' ye. +Roast me if we don't." + +His voice roused the spirit of Wanless once more. Clenching his hands he +stepped forward, moving the keeper aside, and putting his fist in +Pemberton's face, said, in a voice that quivered with concentrated +passion-- + +"Hold your tongue, you black-hearted scoundrel, and leave my house this +instant, or I'll throw you out at the door. What right have you to enter +my door? Be off!" + +Pemberton shrank back and looked as if he thought it might be best for +him to obey; but the keeper grasped Thomas by the collar from behind and +swung him round, at the same time saying-- + +"Come, come, none o' this nonsense now, Wanless. I'll have no fightin' +here, or, by God, if you do I'll transport you, sure's my name's Crabb. +You must go with us quietly." + +At the threat of transporting him, Thomas's wife uttered a shrill cry of +horror, and Thomas himself grew pale, but he was now too much stirred to +yield at once. Instead, he shook off the keeper's hand; and demanded +fiercely what right he had to arrest him. + +The keeper laughed mockingly. + +"Well now, that is a good un'. Why, damme, you've been poaching." + +"How do you know that? And what is it to you if I have?" + +"How do I know? Why, bless my life, I can smell it, you fool. But I +beant here to hargify the p'int. I harrest ye on a criminal charge, +Wanless, that's all; and I've brought the bracelets, my boy. Just the +correct horneyments for chaps like you, he, he," croaked the keeper, +with malign glee. + +"But where's your warrant?" urged Thomas. "You have no right to enter a +man's own house in this way, and haul him wherever you like when it +suits you to put out your spites on him. Poachers, faith; who's a +poacher, I'd like to know, if you ain't? Leave my house, both of you, +or, by God, I'll rouse the village. Tom, Tom," he added, turning to his +son, who had again crept to his side, "go and find Sutchwell, and Pease, +and----" + +"Hold hard there, you ---- fool," roared the keeper. "Curse you, d'ye +suppose we came here to stand your insolence." + +Pemberton closed the door and put his back to it. + +"Look ye here, my fine haristocrat," continued the keeper in the +boundless wrath of fear, "look ye here, if you don't go quietly, devil +take me if I don't get ye a trip to Botany Bay for this job. I'm a sworn +constable, and I've got the justices' warrant, surely that's 'nuff for +thieves like you. Come, farmer Pemberton," he added more quietly, "help +me to hornament this gent," and in a very brief space the two mastered +and handcuffed the labourer. + +He, indeed, made little resistance, for he began to see that he was at +the mercy of these scoundrels. His wife clung to him, but they tore her +roughly away. The children wailed in chorus, and "bludder Jack" crept +downstairs in his thin nightgown to see what was causing the hubbub, +howling like the rest without knowing why. But it was soon all over. +Thomas barely got time to kiss his wife, and to whisper to her to tell +Hawthorn, ere he was out of the cottage and away with his captors. All +down the little village street the shrieks of his family rung in his +ears, and his heart within him was like to burst with grief, +humiliation, and impotent wrath. + +That night he was formally committed by Squire Greenaway himself to be +tried for poaching, before the justices at Leamington Priors, on Tuesday +next. This was Friday. + +In due course Thomas Wanless appeared before the "Justices"--God save +them! and, after a very brief trial, was "let off," as one phrased it, +with six months' hard labour in Warwick Jail. The only evidence against +him was that of Tom Pemberton, but he made no attempt to deny the +charge, and as the squires already considered him a "dangerous" fellow, +they thought their sentence a model of clemency. So did Pemberton and +Keeper Crabb. His judges were Wiseman, Greenaway, the man whose vermin +he had helped to thin by just three rabbits, Parson Codling, of +Ashbrook, and a bibulous old creature who lived in Leamington Priors, a +retired Birmingham merchant, who had been made J.P. for his subservience +to the Tories. Greenaway was violent, and rather disposed to give an +"exemplary" sentence; Wiseman was contemptuously indifferent, as became +a big acred man and the husband of a woman with a handle to her name; +and Parson Codling was unctuously severe. + +An attempt was made to get Wanless to tell the name of his co-offender, +but that he refused, so he was told that his obstinacy had prevented a +more lenient sentence, which was false. But something is due to +appearances at times, and even from such divine personages as justices +of the peace. So careful was the "bench" of proprieties on this +occasion, that Codling, on a hint from the chairman, gave Wanless the +benefit of a short exhortation before consigning him to the salutary +and eminently Christian discipline of the jailer. In the course of this +homily, Codling took occasion to observe that he had once hoped better +things of the prisoner, but had long ago been forced to give him up. +"With grief and sorrow," said the parson, "I have again and again +watched his obduracy, and his tendency to consort with agitators, or +worse. His fate will, I trust, be a warning to others." + +This Parson Codling you will perceive had become tame. Once on a time he +had been almost given over to agitation himself; but that danger soon +passed, and he was now a proper ornament to and supporter of the British +hierarchy. Its morals were his morals. He knew no god but the god of the +landed gentry. In his youth the functions of the priestly office had +been misunderstood by him; but he had married soon after we last met him +a gentlewoman of Worcestershire with L2,000 a year, and that cured him +of many weaknesses--amongst others of the foolish craze he once had that +the religion of Christ was a religion to be practised. He now knew that +it was nothing of the kind. Certain tenets of it had been made up into a +creed "to be said or sung," and a singularly complex institution called +the Church had been elaborated for the good of public morals, and the +support of the English aristocracy--that was all. Therefore could he now +wag his head pompously at poor Tom Wanless standing dumb before him; +therefore could he now raise his fat soft hands, and thrust from his +sight with sanctimonious horror that criminal guilty of rabbit murder. +A stranger, unfamiliar with the usages of rural England--that country +whose liberties, we are told, all nations admire and envy--might have +supposed that Wanless was some foul manslayer, some midnight assassin +meeting his just doom. Unhappy stranger, woe on thy ignorance. Know thou +that in England no crime is so heinous as the least approach to +rebellion against the sacred rights of the Have-alls? "Touch not the +land nor anything that is thereon," is to the English landholder all the +law and the prophets. So Codling cursed Wanless for his crime, and the +doom-stricken labourer passed from his sight. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +MAKES KNOWN THE EXCELLENT QUALITIES OF JAIL LIFE. + + +Captain Hawthorn had been duly apprised of Thomas's misfortune, but was +unable to do anything directly to help him. Because of his obnoxious +opinions Hawthorn was not a justice of the peace; and he felt that any +attempt on his part to appear as the labourer's champion might only end +in making the poor fellow's sentence all the heavier. Since the Reform +Bill and the Chartist agitations had alarmed the landholders, they had +shown less disposition than ever to admit such a nondescript radical as +Hawthorn into their society; and his interference in local affairs was +so prominently resented on several occasions that he had almost ceased +to attempt any. He had even some difficulty in obtaining access to +Wanless in jail; but ultimately succeeded, by the help of a little +judicious bribery, and the friendly assistance of a mountebank drunken +parson, who was in jail for debt during six days of the week, but got +bailed out on Sundays, so that he might edify his flock and keep down +expenses. + +The old man's first greeting to Wanless was in his customary rough +form. + +"Well, Tom, a nice ass you have made of yourself. Why the devil hadn't +you more sense, man? Eh? D--n it, you might have taken some of my +rabbits, my boy, and never a keeper would have said you nay." + +This was true enough, for Hawthorn had now no keeper, and, for that +matter, little game. He allowed his tenants to do as they pleased, and +one of the deepest grievances his neighbours had against him, was that +these tenants thinned their game wherever their lands marched with his. + +To this sally Thomas, however, made no answer beyond a smothered groan. +The man's spirit was too much broken to bear rough comfort of this kind, +as his visitor instantly perceived. Changing his tone at once, the +Captain bent over the bench where the prisoner sat hanging his head, and +laying his hand on Thomas's shoulder, added-- + +"Come, come, Tom, my boy; bless my life! don't lose heart because you've +been a fool. I'll see that the chicks don't starve, and you'll soon be +out of this, and a man again." + +The kind tones of Hawthorn's voice affected Tom more even than the +promise. He tried to speak, but his voice broke in sobs. + +"Tut, tut. 'Pon my life, don't, Tom, d--n it, man, don't," spluttered +the Captain; but, as Tom did not stop, he grasped his hand suddenly and +gave it a hearty grip. Then he turned and fled, afraid probably of +himself betraying his feelings. + +His visit did Thomas much good, and he bore his trials more patiently +henceforth, though the bitterness of his heart at times nearly maddened +him. I can never forget the description which he gave me in after days +of the agonies suffered by him during those horrible six months. We were +seated together in his little garden one September evening, the sun was +far down in the west, the ruddy glow of a calm, bright autumn evening +fell athwart Wanless's grey, worn face, lighting it with a sober +brilliance that fitted well the fixed look of sadness that sat on it as +he then told me of that dark time. His voice was calm for the most part, +although full of subdued passion; and the impression his narrative made +on me was so deep that I can almost give you his very words. + +"At first," said he, "I felt like a caged wild beast, and could do +nothing but chafe. The night in the keeper's out-house, where the +villain kept me to save himself trouble, with both hands and feet +cruelly tied, had been bad enough; and the nights and days in Leamington +lock-up were hard to bear, but a kind of hope sustained me, and I did +not fully comprehend what loss of liberty was till I lay in Warwick +Jail. For three nights after I entered that hell upon earth I did not +sleep a wink. The very air I breathed seemed to choke me. Sometimes I +felt so mad that I could hardly keep from dashing my head against the +walls of the cell. Had I been alone perhaps I might have done it, but +there were five beside myself cooped up in a den not much bigger than my +kitchen, and in the darkness I was for a time horribly afraid lest one +or other of these men should do me an injury. Though in one sense eager +for death, I did not like being killed; and when not raging I was +trembling with fear. It was nervousness, no doubt, but you can hardly +wonder when I tell you what my neighbours were. One was a burglar from +Birmingham, sentenced to transportation for stealing a coat from +somebody's hall; two were miners from Dudley way, "doing" sixty days for +kicking a chum and breaking his leg, another was a wild, brutish-like +day labourer, who had got six months at last Assizes for cutting his +wife's throat, not quite to the death, and the last was a poor, hungry +youth of a tailor's apprentice, who had got the same sentence for +stealing some cloth. We were a strange lot, and I feared these men in +the darkness. If one moved, my heart leapt to my mouth; and the horrible +language in which some of them indulged, made my flesh creep. That wild +labourer especially terrified me. What if the murderous frenzy was to +come upon him, and he should try to throttle me in the dark. + +"After a few nights, exhausted nature asserted herself, and I slept. +Then other thoughts arose in my heart that were still worse to +bear--thoughts about my wife and family. Sarah had been allowed to speak +to me for a minute or two before I was removed from the Leamington +Courthouse to jail, and she then told me that Jack and Fanny caught cold +_that_ night, and threatened dropsy. Lucy, also, had had a relapse of +the fever. Poor woman, she looked so broken-hearted and worn-out like, +and I could say nothing, still less do anything now. 'Oh, Tummas, +Tummas, that it should a' coom to this' she cried, and wept bitterly +behind her thin old shawl. It was the shawl I married her in, sir; and +I thought on the past and the future till I, too, broke down and cried +like a child. But what good was that to her; to either of us? Well; I +couldn't help it. + +"Then she picked up a bit, and tried to cheer me, as women will when the +worst comes. She told me that Mrs. Robins was very kind, and had come to +look after the children for her that day, having none of her own, and no +fear of the infection, and she was sure that the neighbours would never +see her want. That was some comfort at the time; but once I came to +myself in jail the thought that I was now helpless, that my family might +be dying and I unable to reach them, raised anew the agony in my mind. I +saw them gathered round our Sally's bed weeping for their absent father. +My wife's weary looks and thin white face haunted me in the night +seasons far worse than the wife mutilator. What could neighbours do for +her in such a strait; what could I do now? The thought of my +helplessness came over me with waves of agonising self-abasement and +disgust, till my nerves seemed to crack and my brain spin round. Often +did I stuff my sleeve into my mouth to stop myself from crying out as I +lay tossing on the floor of the den. I would beat my head with my +clenched hands till the sparks danced in my eyes, and groan till my +neighbours muttered curses through their sleep. Oh, I thought, if I +could but get an hour with my little ones, to see wee Sally and the baby +in their bed, to watch poor Jack and Fan, and help the worn out mother. +An hour! nay, half an hour, only five minutes! God, it was unbearable; +it was hell to be caged like this! + +"And what had I done to be thus torn from my wife and children, and made +to consort with brutal criminals? What had I done? Killed three rabbits, +vermin that curse God's earth and devour the bread of the poor. They +belonged to nobody any more'n rats or mice or weasels, and did nobody +good in this world. Why, the man that had nearly killed his wife was not +harder treated than me. What then was my crime? Was I indeed a criminal? +I asked myself again and again, and the answer came--'No, Tom Wanless, +but you were worse; you were a fool. You knew the power of the +landlords; you knew that to them the rabbit was a sacred animal, and +that they could punish you if they caught you. You were a fool ever to +put yourself in their clutches.' Ah yes, there was the sting of it. How +could I hope to escape doom when all the world except the labourers were +on one side. + +"But though I saw I had been a fool; that made me no better in my mind; +rather worse; for, as I tossed and raved in my heart, I took to cursing +squire and parson: I cursed, too, the land of my birth, and ended by +cursing the God who made me. Ay, that did I. In the darkness I mocked at +Him, I swore at Him, and told Him that I wouldn't believe there was a +God at all. Why, if He lived, did he suffer scoundrels to call +themselves His chosen people, and mock Him by their chattering prayers +and mumblings all the time that they lived only to oppress the poor. +Life was a curse if that was right. + +"Well," Thomas continued, after a short pause, during which he leant +back and watched the changing tints of gold flitting across the western +sky, "well, that mood also passed, and after the old captain had been to +see me I got a little quieter. But the jailers did not make life easy +for me, I can tell you. Because I was silent, speaking little, eating +little, and hardly fit for the task they set me upon that weary +treadmill, they gave me a taste of the whip many a time, and abused me +for a sullen gallows bird, but I paid no heed. + +"Within a fortnight after my punishment began, little Tom brought me +word that two of my children, Jack and Lucy, were dead, and that Fanny +was not expected to live. When I heard this news I laughed a bitter +laugh, and said, 'Thank God, some good has been done. The squires won't +imprison them, anyway!' My boy looked terrified for a moment, and then +fell a-weeping bitterly. The sight of him crouching at my feet, and +quivering in passionate grief, brought me a bit to. A vision of my dear +little ones, of my dying wee Fan, swept over me; my heart yearned for +them, and I mingled my tears with my son's. I charged him to be kind to +mother, and tried to comfort him. Poor lad, poor lad! He is in Australia +now, and has a farm of his own. The sorrow of that time is past for him +long ago." + +Here my old friend paused, wiping the tears from his eyes furtively, and +sighing softly to himself. The dying glow of the sunset was now on his +face, gleaming in his silvery hair, and making his sad but animated +features shine with a soft glory. I sat still and gazed at him with +feelings too strong for speech. After a little he turned to me with a +smile, and said:-- + +"Yes, my friend, that's all passed, and many sorrows beside, nor do I +now curse God as I look back upon them. But I cannot tell you more +to-night. I didn't think that I should have been moved so much by +recalling that old story. Let us go indoors, the night is growing +chilly." + +Future conversations gave me most of the particulars of that time, but I +cannot harrow the reader's feelings with a full recital of all that +Thomas Wanless felt and suffered in these six months of misery. Three of +his children died while he chafed and toiled in Warwick Jail. The +heart-stricken mother alone received their dying words, heard their last +farewell. Kind neighbours tried to comfort her. The parson's wife even +called, and said, "Poor woman, I'm afraid you've had too many children +to bring up. I'll see if the vicar can spare you a few shillings from +the poor box;" but the shillings never came, much to Thomas's +satisfaction in after days. Perhaps Codling thought the family +altogether too reprobate for his charity. + +It would have gone hard indeed with Mrs. Wanless and the little ones +spared to her but for old Captain Hawthorn. Though verging on seventy, +and by no means strong, no single week elapsed all that winter when his +cheery voice was not heard in the cottage. Often he came twice a week, +but never with any ostentation of charity. On the contrary, he went so +far the other way as to pretend to take a bond over the cottage for +money, professedly lent to the family, and without which they must have +gone into the workhouse. He never, perhaps, felt so like a hypocrite in +his life as he did when he took this bond to the jail for Thomas to +sign. Young Tom was put back to his work on the home farm, and his wages +raised on some pretence or other to six shillings a week. The dry, old +man, so hard and repellant, had, after all, a human heart in him that my +Lord Bishop of Worcester might have envied had he ever experienced any +desire for such an organ. More true sympathy with distress was shown by +this hardened old Voltarian since this family had attracted his notice +than by all the squires of the district and the parsons to boot. It had +not yet become fashionable for the latter to rehearse deeds of +philanthropy in pedantic garments. Hawthorn's fault was not want of +heart or of sympathy, but a self-centredness which prevented him from +seeing his duty, except when, as in this instance, it was forced upon +him. Yet, after all, what could he have done to help the poor around him +that would not in some way have redounded to their hurt? Charity doles +would have demoralised them more than their hard lot did; and any +opening of the door for them to help themselves would have brought +hatred, contumely, and perhaps real injury to them and him. He could not +raise wages by his fiat, nor could he break up his land and distribute +it to the people. All the laws of the country, as well as the prejudices +of "society," were against him, if he had ever thought of so wild a +project; which I do not suppose he ever did. He sat apart and mocked at +a world with which he had no sympathy; whose hollowness, self-seeking, +and cruelty, hid beneath infinite hypocrisies, he thoroughly +understood. + +And this good, at least, has to be recorded of him, that he saved the +family of Thomas Wanless from want, by consequence, also, in all +probability, saving Thomas himself from becoming an abandoned +Ishmaelite. The sight of his family beggared, homeless, and in the +workhouse, either would have driven him reckless or broken his heart. +From that sight, at least, he was saved; and Thomas has often told me +that the conduct of the old squire during these six months did more to +revive hope in his heart and keep him from losing all faith in God or +man, than any other single event of his life. Yet had his heart +bitterness enough. + +"I remember," he said, one night as we conversed together; "I remember +the morning I left jail. It was a warm, May morning, and the air was so +fresh and sweet that the first breath of it made me feel quite giddy +with joy. 'Free! free! I am free!' I whispered softly to myself, and +with difficulty refrained from capering about the road like a madman, as +the joyous thought surged through my heart. It lasted only for a few +moments. Pain took hold of the heels of my joy as usual. I was a man +disgraced. Why should I be glad to get out of jail? Were not its +forbidding, gloomy walls the best shelter left for one like me? Why +should I be glad? The law of the land had branded me a criminal; let the +law makers enjoy paying for their work. + +"Ah, no; disgraced as I was, filled with bitter passionate hate of those +above me as my heart might be, I was not yet ready to stoop to +deliberate crime as a mode of revenge. The memory of my lost children +and my lonely, heart-broken wife stole into my heart and brought the +tears to my eyes. The four that were left to me would be waiting on this +May morning for my home coming. I would go home. + +"So I started; but when I reached the castle bridge my heart again +failed me. I was weak through long confinement, ill-usage, and want of +food, for the messes served to us in that jail were often worse than I +would have given to my pig. The very thought of meeting a village +neighbour terrified me. My limbs shook, and I crept through a gap in the +fence, resolved to hide till night and steal home in the darkness. For a +little while I sat behind a bush at the water's edge, feeling a coward, +but wholly unable to scold myself for it. Then I crept along the bank of +the Avon towards Grimscote, till I reached a clump of osiers, into which +I plunged. The ground was very damp, and here and there almost swampy; +but presently I found a dry mound, and there I lay down, buried from all +eyes. How long I lay I cannot tell, for I paid no heed to time, though I +gradually became calmer. Once again I was in contact with nature. The +air was full of the music of birds, and the chirp of insects among the +grass sounded almost like the movement of life in the very ground +itself. A sweet smell of hawthorn blossom came to me from some old trees +close by, and now and then I heard the plash of oars on the river, and +voices came to me sweet and clear off the water. Gradually I became more +hopeful. Life was all around me; the bushes themselves seemed moved by +it as I lay beneath their shade. Behind me the traffic of the high road +made a constant rattle, and beyond the river I heard the bleating of +lambs. And life somehow came back to me also. I arose with new hopes in +my breast. All could not yet be lost to me, I somehow felt; and, at any +rate, I would go home, for I began to be very hungry. + +"I often stopped on the way with weariness and faint-heartedness, but +did not again turn back, and by two o'clock in the afternoon I reached +my own cottage. My wife welcomed me with a burst of crying. I learnt +from her that she had begun to dread that I had done something rash. She +and the little ones had gone to meet me in the morning as far as the +castle bridge, which they must have reached soon after I lay down among +the willows. There they sat for a while hoping that I would come, but +seeing nothing of me they crept back again with hearts sad enough, you +may be sure. I was not long behind them, and my wife soon brightened +enough to be able to eat some dinner with me; but my heart smote me for +being so selfish and unkind as to go and hide as if no one had to be +considered but myself." + +Such in faint outline was Thomas's account of his release from prison. +His meeting with his family was sad beyond description. In the short six +months of his absence three of his little ones had been put under the +sod. Out of a family of eight in all he had now but four left. A great +mercy that it was so, some will say; and possibly they may be right. The +world's goods are so ill distributed that death is for many the only +blessing left. Nevertheless, I question if the sorrow of the labourer +at the loss of his children was not keener than that of many who need +not fear a want of bread for their offspring. He had toiled and suffered +for all the eight, and the love that grows up in the heart through such +discipline as his is akin to the deepest and holiest passion known to +man. Thomas and his wife mourned for their dead to their own life's end, +because the little ones had been part of their life. Is it so with you, +pert censor of the miserable poor? + +Though sorrowing, Thomas had yet no time to nurse his sorrow. The world +had to be faced again, and work to be found. For sentimental griefs and +morbid wailings in the world's ear the Wanlesses had no time. At first +Thomas got some jobs from Mr. Hawthorn, but he soon saw that they were +jobs mostly created on purpose for him, and he could not bear the +thought of living on charity, no matter how disguised. Therefore, he +began to hunt about for odd work in the neighbourhood, and found much +difficulty in getting it. His recent imprisonment told against him +everywhere, if not in keeping work from his hands, at all events in low +pay for the work. The farmers had now got their feet on his neck, and +took it out of him, as they alone knew how; for the brutalised slave is +always the cruellest of slave-drivers. But Thomas fought on, and for the +best part of a year contrived to exist with the help that young Tom's +wages gave. He did no more; nay, not always so much; for he and his wife +sometimes wanted their own dinners that their children might have +enough. Still he existed; lived through the year somehow and was +thankful, notwithstanding the fact that he had made no progress in +paying off his debt to the old Captain. "He can take the cottage, +Thomas," said his wife. "Someone will pay him rent enough for it, though +we can't; but we can get a hovel somewhere." + +He was spared this last sacrifice, for about this time old Hawthorn +died, and a sealed packet addressed to Thomas Wanless was found among +his papers. When the labourer came to open this, he found that it +contained his bond with the signature torn off, a receipt in full for +the money advanced, and a L20 note. On a slip of paper was written in +the Captain's scraggy, trembling hand, "Don't mention this to a living +soul, Tom Wanless, or by God I'll haunt you.--E.H." Thus the scorned +infidel was soft-hearted and characteristic to the last. His estate +passed to a cousin, who soon gave the tenants cause to remember how good +the old Captain had been. And once more he had kept the labourer's heart +from breaking. The deliverance from debt which this packet brought, and +the prodigious wealth a L20 note appeared to be to Thomas, renewed his +courage and made him resolve to strike further afield in search of +better paid labour. Railway making was at its height all over the +country, and he had often thought of becoming a navvy. Now he decided to +be one if he could get work on the line down Worcester way. A bit of +that line came within fifteen miles of Ashbrook, and he might therefore +see his family now and then at least Young Tom was to stay at home, and +the 5s. a-week, to which his wages was reduced after old Hawthorn's +death, would help to keep house till work was found by his father. The +L20 was not to be touched till the very last extremity, and in the +meantime Thomas put it in as a deposit in a savings bank at +Stratford-on-Avon. He would not deposit it in Warwick lest questions +might be asked, and the Captain's dying command be in consequence +disobeyed. + +The new plans succeeded better almost than Thomas had hoped. He got work +on the railway; it was very hard work, but the wages were good; at first +he only got 18s. per week, and he began by stinting himself in order to +send 10s. of this home; but he soon found that to be a mistake. His work +demanded full vigour of body, and to be in full vigour he must be well +fed. The other men had meat of some kind three times a day, and Thomas +followed their example, with the best results. Not only did he stand by +his work with the rest, but he displayed such energy and intelligence +that within a few weeks he obtained charge of the work in a deep cutting +at 28s. per week. Of this he saved from 12s. to 14s. a-week, after +paying for clothes, lodgings, and food. It seemed very little, and he +grudged much the cost of his own living; but there was no help for it. +Besides, what he saved now was more than all he earned in Ashbrook, +except for a few weeks during harvest. Much reason had he to thank the +dairyman's wife for feeding him in his youth so as to fit him now for a +navvy's toil. + +Truly the life was rough, and little to Wanless' liking, yet he worked +with a heart and hope rarely his before. Altogether this job lasted for +two years, and regularly all that time Thomas went home once a month +with his savings. Sometimes he had more than 20 miles to walk each way, +but he had health, and never failed. Starting on Saturday evenings, in +wet weather and dry, summer and winter, he would reach home early on +Sunday morning, when after a good sleep, he passed a few happy hours, +and then started on the Sunday afternoon for his work again. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +IS OF THE NATURE OF A SERMON. + + +During these two years the attitude of Thomas's mind changed much +towards society and its institutions. He may be said for the first time +to have become a religious man, and his religion was of the simpler and +more unsophisticated type which comes to a man who knows little of +dogma, but much of the contents of the Bible. That book was studied by +him as something fresh and altogether new on the lonely Sundays he +passed amongst the navvies. He took to it at first more because he had +no other book to read, but it laid hold of his imagination after a time, +and he began to test the world around him by the lofty morality of the +New Testament. In due course the thoughts that burned within him found +utterance and infected some of his fellow workmen. Almost before he was +aware a certain following gathered round him. They drew together in the +parlour of the inn, which most of the navvies frequented, and discussed +things political and religious on the Saturday and Sunday nights. + +The wilder spirits soon nicknamed Thomas and his friends the Saints, and +he himself went by the sobriquet of Methody Tom; but, though jeered at +and sometimes cursed by the wilder sort, their influence spread, and +radical views of society were canvassed among these navvies with a +freedom that would have made parson and squire alike shiver with horror +had they known. But they did not know. How could they? Such creatures as +navvies were not, strictly speaking, human at all. They lived beyond the +pale, like the Irish ancestors of many among them, and were essentially +of the nature of wild beasts, for whom the policeman's baton or the +soldier's musket was the only available moral force. + +No parson ever looked near that community of busy workers, whose strong +backed labour was swiftly altering the physical conditions of modern +civilisation, and calling a new world into being for squire and trader +alike. Nay, I am wrong. Thomas informed me that a parson did go astray +among the workmen in the cutting of which he had charge. A poor, deluded +young curate came round once distributing tracts. The fervour of a +yesterday's ordination was upon him, and shone in the rigorous cut of +his garments. He thought he might do the navvies good by the sight of +him, and bless them with his tracts. But his visit was a failure, and +his reception rough. Thomas declared that he felt sorry for the poor +fellow, and yet could not refrain from joining in the laugh at his +expense. One sturdy northerner, to whom he handed a tract, protested +loudly that he "hadn't done nothing to be summonsed for," and when the +curate blandly explained that it was a tract, he blessed his stars, and +swore that he "took the chap for one of the new peelers." Another was of +an opinion that "the parson had a mighty easy job of it," and suggested +his taking a turn at the pick; while one more blasphemous than the +rest, declared that he didn't know who the Lord Jesus might be, and +didn't care; but, in his opinion, it was d----d impudent of him to send +any of his flunkeys down their way "a spyin' and a pryin'." They chaffed +the poor man about his clothes; begged a yard or two of the tail of his +coat to mend their Sunday breeches with; explained how much better he +could walk in a short jacket; wanted to know why he wore a white +choker--and altogether made such a fool of the poor wretch that he soon +turned and fled, amid their jeers and laughter. + +That was the only time they ever saw a parson of the Church during these +two years; and no doubt this poor curate felt that they were a reprobate +crew whom the Church did quite right to abandon to their fate. It is so +much pleasanter and easier to play at pietism amongst well-bred, +comfortable people "of good society" than to save souls. The sweet order +of a gorgeous ritual, the vanities of richly-embroidered garments, +squabbles about archaic rites as worthless as an Egyptian mummy--these +things are more valuable to the modern parson, and more pleasing in the +sight of his God, than the lives of such men as Wanless and his +fellow-labourers. For the parson's God is the God of the rich, to whom +gorgeous ritual and sensuous music are necessary as foretastes of the +blessedness of an aesthetic paradise. + +So be it: far be it from me to question the taste of parson or parson's +following. They can go their own way, only it may be permitted to one to +point out that outside their charmed circle there are forces at work, +before the power of which their fair fabric may yet crumble and +disappear like sand heaps before the rushing tide. Thomas Wanless and +his friends were rude and unlettered, but they had definite ideas +enough, and a wild sense of justice. In their dim way they tried to fit +together the various parts of the human life that lay around them, and +failing to do so, as better than they have failed, they came to the +conclusion that they and their class were cheated by the rest. +Democracy, communism, subversive ideas of all kinds, therefore, found +currency among them, as in ever-growing volume they find currency now. +Imagine if you can these men trying to evolve the prototype of a modern +Lord Bishop, in lawn sleeves and pompous state, from the simple records +of the New Testament. Can you wonder at their failure in that instance, +or in many such like? Where could they find church or chapel that was no +respecter of persons? in which the possession of money and power was not +the ultimate test of true godliness? Is it astonishing that in placing +the ideal and actual side by side, these men should have come to the +conclusion that the actual was a fraud: that the whole basis of modern +society was corrupt? + +Do not, I beseech you, pass lightly by the doings of these men, most +sublime Lord Bishops, most serene peers of the realm, smug buyers of +county votes. These ideas are spreading all around you. Few possessed +them fifty years ago among the agricultural poor; but there, as +elsewhere, democracy is getting educated, is awaking to the reality of +things, and will make its feelings known to you in a manner you little +dream of one of these days. Your Olympus will prove but a molehill when +the earth shakes with the onset of the millions on whose necks you have +sat all these ages. Titles are a mockery, hereditary dignities a +contempt, in the eyes of men who live face to face with the hard +realities of existence. A new life is abroad in the world. The +image-breaker is exalted above my Lord Bishop in all his glory of lawn +sleeves and piety in uniform by men like Wanless and his friends. They +want to know, not what part "my lord" professes to act, what creed this +or that snug Church dignitary chants or drones; but what his life is +worth? What are you? in short, is the question, not what you give +yourself out to be; and, depend upon it, if the answer is +unsatisfactory, you and your hypocrisies will disappear together. + +Nothing struck me so forcibly in my intercourse with Wanless as the +extraordinary bitterness with which he spoke of the English Church. To +it he seemed in his later life to have transferred the greater part of +his hatred of the landed gentry. He viewed it as an organised blasphemy, +and worse than that, as the jailor, so to say, by whom the chains of a +miserable captivity had been rivetted for ages on the limbs of the +toiling poor. The ground for this attitude of mind on the part of the +labourer was easily discovered. He read his Bible much, and endeavoured +to fit its precepts and the example of its greatest characters to the +life around him, and of course he failed. The more he tried to bring +together the presentment of Christianity afforded by the modern Church +and teaching of the New Testament, the more he saw their divergencies. +This set him pondering, and he soon came to the conclusion that this +modern institution was not Christian at all, but Pagan. It was a +department of State, paid by the State, and employed by it for the +purpose of deluding the people into the belief that the existing order +of life was divinely appointed. How effectively it had done this work, +he said, let history show. The clergy had aided and abetted the gentry +in all their robberies of the people; it had been the instrument of many +flagrant thefts of endowments left for the education of the poor; there +never had been a reform proposed calculated to benefit the people that +had not been ardently opposed by this organised band of hypocrites, and +no class of the community was so habitually, so flagrantly selfish as +preachers. Take them all in all, Thomas Wanless declared, the people who +preached for a trade, be they dissenters or Anglican, gave him a lower +idea of human nature than any navvy he ever met. "Their trade makes them +bad," he often declared; "and I suppose I ought to pity the miserable +wretches, but they do so much mischief that I really cannot." + +Once I recollect urging the commonplace argument that there were many +good men among them, but he caught me up short with-- + +"Yes, yes, I admit all that; but that proves nothing in favour of either +the Church or the parson's trade. These men would have been good +anywhere, as Papists, Mohamedans, or Hindus, just as certainly as in +church or chapel. It is their nature to, and they cannot help it. But +their very goodness is a curse to people, sir--yes, a curse, for they +prop up fabrics and institutions that but for them would long ago have +been too rotten to stand." + +Thus it will be seen that Wanless, though in his way a profoundly +religious man, was in no sense a sectary. He was in fact ranged among +the iconoclasts. He sighed for a living faith, not a dead creed; and +were he living to-day he would certainly give his hearty support to that +band of men who wage war on the shams of modern creeds, who mock +unceasingly at the disgusting spectacle of men who call themselves +disciples of Christ wrangling over the cut and embroidery of garments, +and trying to make themselves martyrs for the sake of a candle or two. +The tractarian movement attracted Thomas's attention in a dim way, and +he was amused at the frightful din made by the conversions to Romanism +which accompanied that curious upheaval of mediaevalism. Not that he +understood much of the meaning of what was going on. It was not worth +discovering, he said; but he was amused over it, and roundly declared +that for this and all other ills of the Church there was but one +cure--to take away its money. "Let these parsons try living by faith," +he would often exclaim. "If they believe in God as they say, why do they +not trust him for a living? Their proud stomachs would come down a bit +if they are just turned adrift in a body and let shift for themselves. +But Lord, what a howl they'll make if the people get up and say we'll +have no more of your mummeries, we want our money for a better purpose. +They won't think much about God then, I can tell you. It will be every +man for himself, and who can grab the most. I never have any patience +with parsons, never. They are bad from the beginning, bad all through, +self-deluders and misleaders of others at the best, and at the +worst--well, not much more except in degree." + +"These are the mere ravings of an ignorant peasant," most readers will +exclaim. I do not deny that in a certain sense they may seem only that. +Yet look around and consider the signs of the times before you dismiss +these things as of no significance. What means the spread of secularism +amongst the working classes of the present day, the contempt for +religion and parsons which most of them display? Is it not a most +ominous indication of future trouble for serene lord bishops and their +brood when events bring them face to face with the people? I do not +admire Charles Bradlaugh's teaching on many points; but I cannot deny +the power that he and such as he wield on the common people. It is a +power that increases with the spread of education; and what does it +betoken? Only this; that in time, for one man among the peasantry who +now thinks like Thomas Wanless there will be tens of thousands. The +churches and chapels themselves, with their exceedingly worldly +respectability, produce these men more certainly than all the teachings +of the Bradlaughs; nay, Bradlaugh himself is directly the product of a +corrupt, time-serving and utterly blasphemous church organisation. +Therefore be not too contemptuous of sentiments like those of this +peasant. They are significant of many things--of a coming democracy that +will at least try to burn up the rottenness of our modern ultra +Pagan-civilization. + +On other questions than those of Church and State the opinions of +Thomas Wanless were equally uncompromising, and, perhaps, equally +impracticable. His intelligence was far deeper than his reading, and +much of his political economy, as well as of his code of social morals, +was taken from the Bible. To my thinking he could have gone to no better +book, but I am also free to admit that his too exclusive study of it +gave a quaint and sometimes impracticable turn to his conceptions that +may lead many to have a poor opinion of his wisdom. + +On the land question, for example, he grew to be a kind of disciple of +Moses. He would have had the whole country parcelled out amongst the +people--each family enjoying the inalienable right to a certain bit of +the soil. The year of jubilee was also, in his eyes, a most merciful and +just provision for freeing the unfortunate, or the children of the +spendthrift, from the grasp of the usurer--always the most relentless of +men--and he often exclaimed--"How much better my lot would have been +to-day had a jubilee year brought back to me and mine the land my +grandfathers sacrificed in the stress of hard times." And not to land +only would he have applied this principle, but to all kinds of +indebtedness. "A limit of time should be fixed," he said, "beyond which +the debtor should be free from his debt, unless he had committed a +crime." The national debt itself he would have treated on this +principle; and few things excited his wrath more quickly than any +mention of the heavy burden which the consolidated debt continued to be +to the English people. In national matters he would have had no debt +remaining beyond 30 years, on the principle that it was a crime to cast +the burdens of the present on posterity. Freedom to borrow indefinitely +was in his eyes, moreover, the cause of much abominable robbery and +crime. Next to the Church, however, the object of his deepest hatred and +strongest contempt was modern kingship; and here again his inspiration +was drawn from the Bible. He told me that he often read Samuel's +description of the curse of kingship to his children on Sunday evenings, +with a view to make them proper Republicans; and his greatest interest +in modern history consisted in tracing the working of this curse in +England for the last 200 years. To this evil principle he declared that +we owed most of our social miseries, all our wars of aggression, our +national debt, our social corruptions, our bad land laws, our standing +army, and perhaps even our Established Church, with all its crop of +spiritual, moral, and social perversions. + +It is easy to understand how a man holding opinions like these should +exercise a tremendous influence on the better class of his +fellow-workmen. To those who gathered about him in the evenings he was +never weary of enlarging on topics like these; and had the nature of the +work in hand kept the men permanently together, Thomas must in time have +appeared as the leader of a formidable school of democrats. But the +navvy is here to-day and gone to-morrow, and the seed which Thomas sowed +was scattered far and wide ere two years were over. The good he did is +therefore untraceable, yet doubtless his work bore fruit in ways and +places unseen, and in after days may have increased the receptivity of +the labouring poor after a fashion that the modern agitator thought due +wholly to his own exertions. + +Over the wild Irishmen who formed the majority of the gangs on the line +Thomas never obtained any influence; and, in his opinion, they were +either a race of men bad from its very beginning, or whose nature had +been warped and debased by a long course of shameful tyranny and +deep-rooted habits of submission to degrading superstitions. However +produced, the Irish, in his esteem, were wretched creatures. They lacked +honesty and independence, and would beg like pariahs one hour from a man +whom they would treacherously murder the next in their drunken furies. +More than once he had the greatest difficulty in keeping clear of the +devastating fights with which these wild men of the west were in the +habit of finishing up their drunken revels, and once he, and the more +respectable men who followed him, had to arm themselves and help to +protect some villages in the neighbourhood of the line from being +stormed and sacked by a squad of Irishmen out for a spree. Life +surrounded by such elements was dreary at the best, and, good though the +wages might be, Thomas was not sorry when the job was finished, and the +way open for him to return once more to his own little cottage in +Ashbrook. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MAY INDICATE TO THE READER, AMONGST OTHER THINGS, SOME OF THE ADMIRABLE +ARRANGEMENTS WHEREBY ENGLAND OBTAINS MEN FOR A STANDING ARMY. + + +Had Thomas Wanless known what was in store for him in the future he +might have elected to leave Ashbrook for ever, and continue the life of +a railway navvy. As such his pay was good, and by thrift he might save +enough money either to venture on small contracts for himself, or start +some kind of business in one of the growing midland towns. But Thomas +did not consider these possibilities. The life he led grew more and more +repulsive to him as time went on; and he yearned unceasingly for the +quietude of his native village, and for his own fireside peace. Besides, +he hungered to get back to work on the land. If he could not get fields +of his own to till, at least he might hope to again help to till the +fields of others, and to watch the corn bloom and ripen as of yore. + +So when the local bit of railway was made, Thomas came home to Ashbrook, +and once more went abroad among his neighbours; once more he accepted +the labourer's lot, with its hard fare and starvation pay. He returned +late in autumn when work was scarce; but his wife and he had saved money +in the past two years, and he managed to live with the help of what odd +jobs he could get, and without much trenching on his store till spring +came round. Fortunately his son Thomas had been able to cultivate the +allotment patch in his father's absence, and in spite of the fact that +the new owner of the soil had doubled their rent, it had paid for its +cultivation very well. The growing importance of Leamington provided all +surrounding villages with an improving vegetable and fruit market, of +which Thomas's wife and family had taken full advantage in his absence. +So well indeed had they done, that he himself indulged for a short time +in dreams of becoming a market gardener; but he soon found that there +was no chance for him in that direction. He might get work from the +farmers around, but no landlord would rent him the few necessary acres. +A broken man when he left Ashbrook to become a navvy; his absence had +not improved his position. On the contrary, the parish magnates rather +looked upon him as a greater black sheep than ever. The old ideas about +the rights of landowners to the labour of the hind, as well as to the +lion's share of the products of that labour, had by no means died out, +and it was still a moral crime in the eyes of the landlord for a +labourer to have enough daring and independence of spirit, to enable him +to seek work in another part of the country. In some respects Wanless +was therefore a greater pariah when he came home than when he went away, +and the summit of offence was reached when the report got abroad that +he had actually made some money, and wanted to rent a little farm. +Squire Wiseman had condescended to mention this report to Parson +Codling, and they both agreed that this kind of thing must be +discountenanced, else the country would not be fit for respectable +persons to live in. "The idea," Wiseman had exclaimed, "of this d----d +poacher-thief wanting to become a farmer! why bless my life, we shall +have our butlers wanting to be members of parliament next." And this +seemed to be the general opinion, so that the only practical outcome of +Thomas's ambition was a greater difficulty in procuring work, and a +further advance in the rent of his allotment. The successor of old +Captain Hawthorn took this mode of expressing his concurrence in the +general opinion, rather than that of a summary ejectment, he being a +practical man, and wise in his generation. It was better policy to take +the profits of Thomas's labours than to turn him adrift, and have to pay +rates for the maintenance of him and his family. + +Against the odds and prejudices thus at work, Wanless fought manfully +for more than two years. When he could get work he laboured at it early +and late, and when, as often happened, work was denied him, he tended +his little garden and his allotment patch with the closeness of a +Chinese farmer. His flowers were the pride of the village, and his care +coaxed the old trees in his garden into a degree of fruit-bearing that +almost put to shame the vigour of their youth. Yet he could not always +make ends meet; and when he began to see his little hoard melting away, +his heart once more failed him. If the farmers would not have him he +must once more try elsewhere, and again a local railway afforded him a +refuge. He became a "ganger" on the Stratford line at 14s. a-week, and +for more than four years made his daily journey backwards and forwards +on his "beat," winter and summer, in cold and heat, well or ill. In one +sense, this work was not so hard as a farm labourer's or a navvy's is, +but it told on the health as much. Exposure, thin clothing, and poor +food did their work rapidly enough, and Thomas's limbs began to stiffen, +and his back to grow bent before his time. Like his fellows, he promised +to become an old man at 50, but he would have stuck to his work had not +a sharp attack of pleurisy laid him up in the winter of 1855, and once +more compelled him to seek to live by farm labour. He could not face the +bleak unsheltered railway track again, and even if he could, there was +no room for him. His place had been filled up. With a weary heart and a +spirit well-nigh crushed, Thomas once more looked for work on the farms +around Ashbrook. "Is there no hope for us, Sally, lass?" he would often +cry. "Must we go to the workhouse at last?" "Ay, the workhouse, the +workhouse!" he would exclaim. "The parsons promise us a deal in the +other world, but that's the best they think we deserve here. Well, +perhaps they mean to give us a better relish for the other world when it +comes." + +Thomas had one thing to cheer him, though, and no doubt that gave him +more courage to face the world again than he otherwise would have had. +His precious son, young Tom, had emigrated to Australia about a year +before this terrible illness had enfeebled his father. He had gone as an +assisted emigrant, but the old man had given him L10 of old Hawthorn's +L20 to begin the New World upon. The parting had cost the family much, +and the father most of all; but they felt it to be for the best. There +was no room to grow in the old land; in the new there was a great +freedom. The lad dreamt of gold nuggets; but the wiser father bade him +stick to the land as soon as he could get a bit to stick to. + +This departure was a loss to the family purse, for the youth had +obtained pretty steady work, and generously gave all into the keeping of +his mother. But Jane and Jacob were now also out into the world, winning +such bread as they could get, and the family burden was therefore +lighter. Jane was general servant to a dissenting draper in Leamington, +and Jacob enjoyed the proud distinction of being waggoner's boy at +Whitbury farm, now tenanted by a go-ahead Scotch ex-bailiff, who had +succeeded the Pembertons when they went to the dogs with drink and +horse-dealing. This hard-fisted, ferret-eyed agriculturist worked his +men and boys as they had never been worked before, but he did not make +the hours of labour so long, and he paid them a trifle better than his +neighbours, whose jealousy and dislike he thereby increased. Probably he +rather liked to be contemned by his fellows. It increased the +self-sufficiency of his righteousness, and made him the more proud of +being a strict Calvinistic Presbyterian, endowed with a conscience as +inelastic as his creed. Be that as it may, this man gave Jacob Wanless +10s. a week and made the lad work for it. Jacob was not then 17, and at +his previous place had only obtained half that sum with a grudge. But +then his work had been a long day's drawl too often, while now his duty +as under waggoner was practically a good 10 to 12 hours' toil as stable +assistant, feeder of stalled cattle, and general labourer about the +farm. + +From these causes Wanless had some ground for hope, although work was +difficult for him to get, and his power to do it when got less than it +had been. And when he looked round him his causes for thankfulness +multiplied. Was not his neighbour Hewens, the under gardener at the +Grange, worse off than he, with a younger family of seven, one of whom +was an object, and a weekly income averaging about 9s. a week all the +year round. Thomas's old and tried friend Satchwell, the blacksmith, +too, with his three children living and a wife dying in decline, had +surely a harder lot than he, for all the coldness of farmers and +contumely of parish deities. + +As spring warmed into summer, indeed, Wanless's strength and heart came +back to him in a measure. His hopes were chastened, but they were there +still, and asserted their life. Good news came from his far-away son, +too. Young Tom had taken his father's advice, and, avoiding the charms +of gold digging, had gone to work at high pay on a sheep run. Already he +spoke of buying a farm of his own, and getting father and mother and all +the rest to join him in the colony. Surely any man's heart would warm at +prospects like these, and Thomas so far entertained the project as to +talk it over with his friends, Brown, Satchwell, and Robins, who agreed +in thinking it "mighty fine," and in wishing that they could mount and +go along. "A vain wish, friends," Brown would say, "vain so far as I am +concerned, for I cannot herd sheep or hold a plough, and they want +neither parish clerks nor schoolmasters in the bush." Robins felt that +he was too old and too poor to think of the change, and Satchwell sighed +often as he thought on what a sea voyage might yet do for his wife. But +as for Thomas, of course he could go when his son sent him the money, +they said; and he, remembering that he had still a few pounds of his +hoard unspent, almost thought that he could. His family should have the +first chance, though. Jane and Jacob might both be able in another year +to get away to the new country so full of hope; and it was best that the +old hulk should stay at home, perhaps. So ran his thoughts for these +two, but he always stopped when he reached Sally, his youngest living +child, and precious to him as the apple of his eye. She was the fairest +of the family, and her father's darling above all the others. Her, at +all events, he felt he could not part with. If she went away at all her +mother and he must go too. + +As yet "wee Sal," as she was called, though by this time nigh fourteen +years old, had not been suffered to go out to service. She had got more +schooling than the others, thanks to the better means that her father +had during part of her childish years; thanks likewise to his partiality +for her. In this you will say he was weak; but let him who is strong on +such a point fling stones. I cannot blame Thomas much for committing so +common a sin as to love most yearningly his youngest child; but I admit +that his fondness was perhaps to her hurt. Not that she was taught to +love idleness or things above her station. Far from that. Kept at home +though she was, she had to work. In the summer season she helped her +mother to tend the garden, and to carry flowers, vegetables, and fruit +to Leamington for sale. Under her mother's eye she at other times +learned something of laundry work. But her schooling; what could she do +with that? Did it not tend to give her vain thoughts above her lot; for +her lot was fixed more even than that of her brothers. The peasant maid +could never hope to advance to aught beyond some kind of upper service +in a rich man's family; a service often increasingly degrading in +proportion as it is nominally high. She might become a ladies' maid, +perhaps, and marry a butler in time, or she might fill her head with +vanities, and in apeing those above her sink to the gutter. The love of +Thomas for his child exposed her to many risks, when it took the form of +getting old Brown to teach her all he knew. If she could only get to the +new country at the other end of the world all that might be changed. She +might be happy and prosperous as an Australian farmer's wife. Yes, that +would be best; but they must all go. Neither Thomas nor his wife, who +shared his partiality, could think of parting with Sally. Jacob might go +first to help Tom to gather means to take out the rest; and Jane might +even go with him could a way be found; but not Sally: that sacrifice +would be too much. + +In all probability the emigration plan might have been carried out in +this sense that very winter, if an emigration agent could have been got +to take Jacob and Jane, had not misfortune once more found the labourer +and smitten his hopes. Jacob enlisted. He was by no means a bad boy, but +like all youths, enjoyed what is called a bit of fun; and, in fun, he +had betaken himself to a kind of hiring fair held in Warwick, in +November, and called the "Mop." There was no need for him to go, as he +was not out of work, but the day was a kind of prescriptive holiday, and +others were going, so why not Jacob? Idle, careless, and brisk as a +lark, the lad followed where others led; drank for the sake of good +companionship more than his unaccustomed head could carry; and when in a +wild, devil-may-care mood was picked up by a recruiting sergeant, who +soon joked and argued him into taking the shilling. A neighbour saw the +boy, half-tipsy, following the sergeant and his party through the fair +with recruit's ribbons fluttering round his head, and rushed home to +tell Thomas as fast as his legs could carry him. The old man was +horror-struck; and the boy's mother broke into bitter wailing. Thomas, +however, wasted no time in useless grief, but took the road for Warwick, +within three minutes of hearing the news, in the hope of being in time +to buy his boy off. He had an idea that if he managed to pay the +smart-money before Jacob was sworn in, the lad might escape with little +difficulty. But he was too late. The sergeant was too well up to his +work to wait in Warwick all night, in order that parents might come in +the morning and beleaguer him for their betrayed children. Long before +Thomas reached the town and began his search for his son the sergeant +had gone off with his entire netful to Birmingham. + +As soon as Thomas found this to be the case he made for the railway +station, intending to follow his boy without asking himself whether it +would do any good. But there again he was baulked. The cheap train to +Birmingham had passed long before, a porter told him, and there was +nothing that night but the late and dear express. For this Thomas had +not enough money in addition to what would be required to buy off Jacob, +so he had no help for it but to go home. This he did with a heart heavy +enough. Well did he know that ere he could reach Birmingham to-morrow he +would be too late. Recruiting sergeants do not linger at their work, +especially after the army had been reduced by war and disease as it then +had been in the Crimea. Before ten o'clock next morning Jacob, still +dazed with yesterday's unwonted debauch, was sworn in before a +Birmingham J.P., and not all the money his father possessed could then +release him. Henceforth, till his years of service were out, he must go +and kill or be killed at the bidding of these "sovereigns and +statesmen," whose business it still, alas, is to make strife in the +world. + +This untoward event was in many ways a knock-down blow to the old +labourer and his wife. She, however, sorrowed mostly on personal +grounds, and dwelt on gloomy prospects of wounds and violent deaths as +the only lot now open for her son--bone of her bone, and flesh of her +flesh--whom she had nursed and tended from the womb only for this. Like +a good housewife, she mourned also the loss of Jacob's wages, which not +only helped to keep the wolf from the door, but also served to nourish +the hope that one day all might yet see the new land of promise. If any +savings could be pointed to they were always in the mother's eyes due to +those wonderful earnings of her boy's. + +Thomas shared these feelings with his wife, but he had others into which +she did not enter. The emigration scheme had, perforce, to be given up, +and that was to him a far more bitter thought than to his wife, who +declared that she did not mind if they all went, but hung back at the +thought of "putting one after another of her children into a living +tomb," as she phrased it. But the deepest pain of all to Thomas probably +lay in the humiliation he felt in having a son a soldier. The trade of +murder, as he called it, was to his mind the most degrading to which a +man's hands could be set. He firmly believed that standing armies were a +mockery of the Almighty, and that the nations which fostered them would +sooner or later sink to perdition beneath the blows of divine vengeance. +Armies led to wars, and wars were the curse of the world, he averred, +and when contradicted was ready to prove to his antagonist that all the +wars in which England had been engaged since the revolution of 1688, +were dictated by the worst passions of mankind. Either, he said, they +were undertaken to consolidate the power of a rapacious faction over the +lives, liberties, and means of the people at large, or they were +actuated by mere bestial greed, by inordinate vanity and love of power, +or by mulish obstinacy and hatred or fear of liberty, and it was +amazing to hear what arrays of facts he brought forth in support of his +thesis. As a general conclusion he, of course, urged that, but for kings +and priests, most of the wars of the modern world would never have come +about. He did not know which cause was most effective, but inclined to +think it was the priests. Certainly the sight of ministers of Christ +so-called, unctuously blessing red-handed and red-coated murderers by +wholesale, and training their children to go and do likewise, was in his +opinion one of the most revolting things under God's sky. + +You can, therefore, well understand with what bitterness of heart he +thought of the fate of his boy. He brooded over it; it became more +terrible in his sight than an actual crime. If Jacob had stolen and been +transported for breaking the law, Thomas could not have felt more shame +and humiliation than now haunted him. He almost cursed his son, and he +did unstintedly curse the system under which the lad had been caught up +by the agent of the State and spirited away from his labour. How it was +done he knew but too well; and when afterwards Jacob himself told the +story, it only confirmed what he had all along felt to be true. The boy +had never intended to enlist; but the drink, imprudently taken, had gone +to his head. The sergeant first cajoled him, and then, when he had taken +the fatal shilling, terrified him with threats of what would befall if +he broke faith with the Queen. So he took the oaths and went away to +practice the goose step, and moralise on the oddness of things in the +world. An officer, he now learnt, could sell out at a high price and +retire; but the common soldier belonged to the State, and had to be +bought back therefrom if he wished to be free. For Jacob there came no +such redress. + +Gloom settled on the heart of his father, and on the little home in +Ashbrook after this great blow, and, but for the spur of hard necessity, +Thomas thought he should have laid down his burden altogether. Happily, +duty called him to work for others, if not for himself; and work brought +its usual blessing--a healing of the wounds and a revival of life in the +heart. All was not yet lost, though the buffets of adversity were +frequent and sore. + +Indeed, in one sense Jacob's enlistment brought good to the family, for +it gave Thomas work at Whitbury Farm. Once more, after so many +vicissitudes, he came back to the old place. A changed place it proved +to be, but, on the whole, the change was for the better. The work was +hard, but the farmer was not brutal like the Pembertons, who had ruined +themselves by wild living, been sold up, and had disappeared none knew +whither. + +Jacob himself had plenty of time to rue his folly, and he did rue it +bitterly. At first in Chatham, and afterwards in various Irish barracks, +he spent seven dreary years, wishing many a time he were dead, and +regretting that his fate did not lead him to India, where a mutineer's +bullet might have ended his career. Possessing much of his father's +energy of nature and many of his father's habits of thought, the idle +and seemingly purposeless life of a barrack became at times almost more +than the young man could endure. Had he fallen into the loose ways of +many among his comrades, it is probable that he would have capped the +folly of enlisting by the military crime of desertion. Fortunately he +kept his soul clean, and managed to utilise some portion of his time in +improving his mind. The mental wants of the soldier were not cared for +in his time, as they have begun to be since; but there were a few books +available in most barracks, and in Ireland a kindly old adjutant, who +had himself risen from the ranks, discovered Jacob's thirst in time to +afford him some assistance. Save for "providences" like these, and for +the stout heart that grew within him as he developed into full manhood, +Jacob's life as a soldier would have represented only wasted years. + +Three more years in this way passed over Thomas Wanless and his +family--years marked by no incident of great importance. The dull +uniformity of their struggles with the ills of life has no dramatic +interest. Under it characters may be shaped and twisted like trees by +the east wind; but the graduations of change are mostly imperceptible to +those that endure the daily buffetings, and are beyond the scope of the +chronicler. Some day in the lapse of years, a man wakes up suddenly to +find himself changed, and looks back upon a former self with wonder and +astonishment, with thankfulness, it may be, for the drastic cleansing he +has endured, or with that flash of horror at the sudden vision of the +pit into which he has all the time been slowly sinking. In these years, +while a father labours for his children's bread, and thanks God that the +bread comes to him for his labour, his children grow up, develop +characters, assume attitudes in the world he never suspects, bringing +him joy or sorrow as the fruit is bitter or sweet. All is changing +ever; life moves onward, and the one generation perceives not the path +that the next shall follow. Ah! the mystery of life. What does it all +mean? The wrong triumphs often; the high hopes are dashed; weariness and +pain haunt us wherever we go; the fruit of the sweet blossom is ashes +and exceeding great bitterness; yet we hope on, plod on, battle till the +end comes--and the judgment: then perhaps we shall know. + +As yet, however, the unkindly blows of a hard fate had not broken Thomas +Wanless's spirit: far otherwise. His heart might fail him beneath the +greater of his misfortunes, but when the storm had overpassed, his head +rose again, his eye yet brightened, and the laughter of hope broke forth +once more: so was it now. Steady work soothed the pain of Jacob's +disgrace, and in time the boy's own cheerfulness and manifest +improvement made his father begin to think good might be brought forth +out of evil in this case also. His daughter Jane continued to do well, +and was looking towards promotion in her sphere--such promotion as +consists in being one among many fellows, instead of the solitary drudge +in the family of a small retail merchant. With the higher wages that +followed elevation, Jane hoped also to be able to help her parents more. +That was Jane's ambition, so far as confessed, and it did her credit. +There might be something behind that, which was her own; but for the +present her father and mother stood first. + +Then the news from Tom was ever good. He prospered with the colony of +Victoria, where he had settled, and might in time be a rich man, though +as yet his means were, for the most part, hid in the land he had bought. + +Life, therefore, was not at all dark in those years of quiet toil, +either for Thomas or his family; and yet a cloud was gathering on the +horizon; a little cloud that might grow till all the life became wrapped +in its darkness. + +The enlistment of Jacob had compelled Sally to go to service like her +sister. Thomas yielded to this necessity most reluctantly, and his +friends, even his wife, said he was foolishly fond of the girl. He would +not admit that it was over-fondness; it was solicitude, he said. An +undefined feeling of dread haunted him about the last and best loved +that was left. She was fairer than any girl of the village, and without +being exactly giddy, she was thoughtless and merry-hearted; too easily +led away; too guilelessly trustful of others. How could he let this +tender, unprotected maiden go out into the world, and fight her +life-battle alone among strangers? Many a prayer had he prayed in secret +that this sacrifice might be spared; but in this also the heavens were +as brass. The time had come when she must either go or starve, and with +a heavy heart he gave his consent. It was hardly given when his wife in +her turn woke up to the danger of the step. She then sought to bring +Thomas to revoke the decision, and try one more year; but it was too +late. Sally herself was now eager to go. Her pride was touched. She +would no longer be a burden to her parents, and must take a place like +her sister. + +"But in another year, Sally, we may all be able to go to Australia," the +mother pleaded. + +"Well, I can work for money to help us to go there," was the answer; and +the mother had to yield. + +Sally found a place as drudge to a newly-married couple in Warwick--a +young surgeon and his wife. They had imprudently married on his +"prospects," and had to use many shifts to hide their poverty, lest the +world, which can only measure men's worth by the length of their purses, +should pass him by. It was thus a poor place, especially for one like +Sally, who had been better educated than probably any one else of her +class in the whole shire; and the wages were poor. At first they gave +her 1s. 6d. a-week with her food, but after six months they gave her +2s., partly to prevent neighbours from gossiping about their want of +means. + +Here the girl remained for two years, not because she liked the place, +but because her parents told her that it was good to be able to say that +she had been so long in one family. Then she removed to the household of +a lawyer as housemaid, where two servants were kept, and had been in +that place over a year when her father met with an accident which laid +him up for many weeks. It seems that in building a rick he had somehow +been knocked off by a sheaf flung up at him thoughtlessly before he had +adjusted the previous one. He raised his one hand mechanically to catch +it, and his other slipped from under him. Being near the edge, he rolled +off heavily, striking the wheel of the waggon as he fell. The rick was +high, and the fall so severe, that, when picked up and examined, Thomas +was found to have badly bruised his shoulder and fractured two of his +ribs. + +A long and tedious illness followed, during which Thomas was unable to +earn anything. Until young Tom could know and send money the old folks +were therefore likely again to feel the pinch of want, and it would take +many months to bring help from Australia. Some of the old hoard was +still left, but doctors' bills and necessary dainties soon made a hole +in that. In nursing her husband, too, Mrs. Wanless was prevented from +earning anything herself. There was no one to go to market with the +little garden produce that might be to spare. Neighbours were helpful, +but they could do little where all alike lived in daily converse with +want. Thomas's master was kindly, and declared that he would not see +them starve, but Thomas liked to be independent, and took umbrage at the +tone in which the charity was offered. + +Talking of these things, and of the difficulties of the future, one +Sunday evening, when Sally was down from Warwick, the girl suddenly +asked why she could not go to a better place where her wages might be of +more use. She had only 3s. a week where she was, and felt sure she could +earn more. + +Her parents were for letting well alone. "All the extra money you can +get, Sally, won't amount to much," her mother said, and her father urged +her to wait for Tom's letter. Who knew that Tom might not be sending +money to take them all away to the new country? But Sally was positive, +according to her impulsive nature. She was now nearly 18, she said, and +was sure she could earn more. "Besides, mother," she added, "I want to +better myself. I am learning nothing where I am, and never will, and I +hate messing about with so many children. They ought to keep a nurse, +but they can't afford it, missis says; and I'm sure I'm nothing but a +slave. Why should you object?" + +Why, indeed. There were no good grounds for it in her eyes, and none +tangible to her parents. The result, therefore, was that Sally sought +and found a new place. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +INTRODUCES THE READER TO VERY ARISTOCRATIC COMPANY. + + +It so happened that what servants call "a good place" was not so +difficult to find when Sally went to seek it, as it had been some years +before. The growing wealth of a portion of the nation was telling every +year with increased force on the demand for domestic servants; and at +the same time manufacturers were everywhere drawing more and more of the +female population into employments in the great industrial centres of +the Midlands. In any case, therefore, Sally Wanless would probably soon +have found a place of some kind in a gentleman's family; but, unknown to +herself, her good looks had already been working in her behalf. She had +attracted the attention of the housekeeper at the Grange one day that +the two had chanced to meet in a grocer's shop in Warwick. When Sally +went out the housekeeper asked after her, and told the grocer that she +was just in want of "a still-room maid," whatever that may be. The +grocer gave Sally a good character as far as he knew her, and said +further that he believed the girl wanted a new place. What the +housekeeper heard elsewhere also pleased her; and in due time Sally was +engaged at the, to her, fabulous wages of L10 per annum. Perhaps, had +Lady Harriet Wiseman known that the pretty girl who thus entered her +house in the humble capacity of still-room maid, was the daughter of +"that seditious old poaching scamp, Wanless," as the squires called +Sally's father, she might have vetoed her housekeeper's action. But that +finely-distilled aristocrat did not condescend to notice such trivial +matters as the coming and going of menials. She barely knew the names of +some of the oldest servants about the place, and when she had occasion +to speak to any of them--a thing she avoided as much as possible--gave +all alike the name of Jane. She viewed her domestic world from afar. She +was of the gods, and her menials were of the sons and daughters of men. +To her their lives were unknown; of their hopes and feelings she knew +less than she did of the varied dispositions of her dogs. They were +there to minister to her every want and whim, to bend the knee, bate the +breath, and lower the eye before her when she crossed their path, and if +they did these things silently as machinery, it was well. Her sole duty +was to find them food and wages, and she kept her contract. But if they +failed in one iota they were dismissed. + +It would be unfair to suppose that Lady Harriet was an exceptionally +hard woman, because this was her relationship with her household. She +was indeed nothing of the kind. On the contrary, in some respects she +was a kind-hearted person enough, and would for example have turned away +her housekeeper on the spot, had she been made aware that the servants +were badly fed or uncomfortable in their bedrooms, or anything of that +sort. Sins of that kind affected the reputation of her mansion, and +jarred, moreover, on her sense of comfortableness. To have life flow +easily, to see and feel none of the roughnesses of existence--this was +Lady Harriet's ideal. For the rest--how could she help it if menials +were low creatures? They were born so, and it was for her comfort +probably that Providence thus ordered the gradations of society. She had +been heard, moreover, to plume herself upon the exceptionally good +treatment her servants got, and to declare that she knew it to be much +better than that of her sister, who was the wife of a lord bishop of a +neighbouring diocese, and a woman of fashion. + +Lady Harriet was, in short, an average sample of the modern English +aristocrat. Nay, in some respects she was better than the average woman +of her class, for she was gifted with some touch of the shrewd brains +that had lifted her grandfather, the London clothier, to great wealth +and an Irish peerage. In another sphere, as the parsons say, she might +have distinguished herself as a woman of affairs, but she loved ease, +disliked trouble, and wrapped her mind up in the refinements proper to +high birth and breeding. First amongst these she placed exemption from +all the cares and duties of maternity, and from the worries of household +management. Her aim was not lofty, and even her ladyship had begun to +fear that somehow her life had been a failure. A weary look was often +seen on her face--visible to the meanest domestic--telling all who saw +it that luxury could not insure any poor mortal from care any more than +from disease and death. But cannot one trace the hideous grinning skull +beneath the skin of the fairest and loftiest in the land? Care comes to +all, and sorrow, and pain, and for years before Sally went to the +Grange, the mistress thereof had felt the worm gnawing at her heart. + +For one thing, her husband, now a man beyond sixty, was rapidly losing +the little wits he had possessed. His life was to all appearance most +prosperous. To the envy of many, he had made much money through the +railway speculations of the preceding decade; and by material standard +of the time should have been supremely happy. But he drank and over-ate +himself, and his self-indulgences in these and other ways made him gouty +and diseasedly fat. His life had thus become a misery to himself and to +all around him, even before he had become really old; and now his memory +was failing him, a sottish stupidity was stealing over his brain, so +that it was with much difficulty that his wife could rouse him to attend +to the most necessary affairs of his estates. Peevish and +ill-conditioned when in pain, stupified with wine when well, and at all +times of a dreary vacuity of mind, this pillar of the State, wielder of +men's votes, arbiter of parish fates and men's fortunes, was not a +lovable man to live with. To outsiders he might be an object of pity or +scorn; but to his wife! Ah, well, the servants said she looked worried. +Let it pass. + +And yet had this been all she might have been in a fashion happy, for +she could turn off much of the ill-humour of her husband on his servants +by simply avoiding him. Other troubles, however, were coming thick upon +her, and making her look as old as the Squire, although she was nigh ten +years younger. Three children of the five she had borne were alive--two +daughters and a son. Of course the son, being also the heir, was made +much of, fawned on by mother and menial alike, and equally, of course, +he grew up a remarkable creature. Who has not known such without longing +for a whip of scorpions, and a strong arm to wield it? One daughter had +married a soldier--a showy man of good family but small fortune, who +sold out, became stock-gambler, and bankrupt in the brief space of +eighteen months; and then bolted to Australia to try sheep-farming with +a few hundreds given him by his friends to get rid of him. He had left +his wife and three children to the care of his mother-in-law. The eldest +daughter--eldest also of the family--was slightly deformed, and had +never left home, though some poor curates had cast longing looks at her, +hoping perhaps, that the money and influence she would have might be the +means of bringing them preferment. But they were not men of family, and +Lady Harriet would have none of them. The deformed daughter was left +otherwise to her own devices; and was probably the happiest in the +house, as she certainly was the gentlest. These were small troubles too, +and Lady Harriet could not afford to make herself long unhappy over +them; but it was otherwise with those of her son. + +This pampered darling of his mother, this remarkable youth whose leading +idea was that the world and all that was therein had been created +expressly for him--if, indeed, he had ever stopped in his career of +selfish lust to form an idea so definite--this youth of many privileges, +before whom the path of life was rolled smooth and carpeted, on whom the +sun dare not shine too freely nor any wintry storm beat untempered, was +now causing his mother more agony than she ever imagined she could bear +and live. She felt she was wronged somehow in having so much sorrow by +one she so deeply loved. Had she not done everything for him all his +life, given him all he asked, made the whole household his slaves, +forbidden his masters to task his brain with too many studies, poured +handfuls of pocket-money into his lap, and in all ways treated him like +a demi-god? Yes, yes; she knew that no mother could have done more, felt +it in her heart as she reviewed the past, and yet had not this precious +boy been stabbing her to the heart every day of his life? Lady Harriet +felt that the world was out of joint. + +Others, less blind, will say that this nurture would have destroyed the +noblest of natures. On a commonplace mind like Cecil Wiseman's its +effect was disastrous. The young man was, about the time of Sally +Wanless's entry on service at the Grange, some twenty-four years of age, +and handsome enough to look upon. When he liked his manners were +engaging, and his conversation not without shrewdness. But its range was +limited to matters of the stable. He had no acquaintance with literature +outside the sporting papers and some filthy English novels. French he +had never learned to read. He shone more in the stable than in +drawing-rooms, and understood the philosophy of horse jockeys, or racing +touts, better than the difference between right and wrong. If he had a +pet ambition it was to "make a pot of money" on a horse, and if he had +not been the heir to a great estate he might have distinguished himself +as a horse-dealer, that is, had he not come to the treadmill before he +got the chance. + +The social position to which he was born saved him the trouble of +choosing a profession, and from the grasp of the law, but it did not +prevent him from being a criminal worse than many a poor wretch in the +dock. A commission had been bought for him some years before in a +regiment of dragoons, and by means of money he was now a captain, but +there was little about him of the soldier. When not bawling on a race +course he was lounging about the clubs of Pall Mall, playing billiard +matches for high stakes, or losing money at cards with the +freehandedness of a gentleman of fashion. What leisure these high +occupations left him was devoted to the society of loose women, by whom +his purse was just as freely emptied. + +Naturally a career of this kind cost much, and soon Lady Harriet was +driven to her wits' end to find her son the means he demanded, and at +the same time to hide his extravagance from his father. The old man was +growing stupid, but not on the side of lavishness. On the contrary, he +clung to his money the more tenaciously, the more he felt that, and all +other earthly goods slipping from him, and woke to snappish +inquisitiveness when his name was wanted at the bottom of a cheque. + +For a time Cecil's mother smuggled considerable sums for her boy through +the household accounts, and by pinching herself in the matter of new +clothes and jewels, managed to keep him afloat. But soon his +wastefulness went far beyond the range of such petty expedients. From +hundreds his losses grew to thousands, and she was in despair. Again and +again did she beseech her darling to be careful, to restrain himself, to +have pity on her grey hairs. She might as well have prayed to the church +steeple. Cecil abused her, and told her that he would have money, get it +how he might; if she did not give it him the Jews would, and it would be +the worse for her. Sometimes she thought she must tell his father, but +the courage and truth of heart were alike wanting for a course so open. +Once she threatened Cecil with this dreaded alternative, and he wrote +back that he did not see why she could not put his father's name to a +cheque, and be done with it. And he spoke of the old man's grasping +tendencies in terms unfit for transcription. + +Verily, Nemesis was overtaking this poor woman, and bitter care had +become her familiar friend, though she knew hardly the fringe of her +son's iniquity. He weltered in a pool of corruption, caring for nobody, +loving no one but himself, despising natural affection, trampling it +under his feet with the unconsciousness of a demon, and crying for +money, money, as a horse leech seeks for blood. Such are some of the +characteristics of the family under whose roof the daughter of Thomas +Wanless now found herself, a stranger, bewildered with the splendour +around her, and the signs of a wealth greater than her imagination had +ever conceived. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +TELLS AN OLD, OLD STORY. + + +Sarah Wanless did not quite suit the housekeeper, Mrs. Weaver, as +still-room maid. She was not sufficiently acquainted with the work, and +got flurried when the deputy tyrant of the household scolded her, which, +after the first few days, was many times a-day. So, after a month of +this purgatory, she was transferred to the nursery as under-nurse to the +children of Lady Harriet's daughter, Mrs. Morgan. There her position was +in some respects improved, though the head nurse was a woman of vulgar +instincts, and given to nagging, as women verging on forty, face to face +with old maidhood, often are. Doubtless she had had her sorrows and +disappointments, and felt that the world had been unkind to her--a +feeling which justifies much unloveliness here below in other folks than +old maids. + +However, Sally endured her lot in hope, and soon began to find a certain +pleasure in her work, for she liked children. There were two boys and a +girl, the girl being youngest, and at this time two years old. The +drudgery was, therefore, less severe than if there had been babies in +arms, and, as the children were not naturally ill disposed, though +imperious as became their birth, they and the new nurse soon got on +very well together. Part of every fine day was spent out of doors, and +that also helped to make petty troubles bearable. It is only bitter care +and sorrow that seem heavier under God's sky than within four walls. At +first the upper nurse always formed one of the party, and was rather a +nuisance in her persistent endeavours to check what she called +"ungenteel beayvour." Her voice was a chorus ever intruding with "Master +Morgan, you mustn't do this," or, "Miss Ethel, you shocking girl, don't +beayve so," and the key did not conduce to harmony, but, like every +other discord in the world, it deafened the ears that heard, and the +young ones enjoyed themselves in spite of it. + +Nor did this drawback last long, for, some three months after Sarah +entered the nursery, fate, or the spirit of mischief, ordered things so +that the head nurse once more fell in love. The object of her mature +affection was the new farm bailiff, a gigantic Welshman some few years +her junior, and the prosecution of their courtship made the presence of +Sarah inconvenient. As a stroke of policy, therefore, she was often sent +off with the two elder children to wander through the park and gardens, +or into the woods, as the whims of the children or her own might +dictate, while the "baby," as the youngster was still called, went with +the other nurse in quest of Mr. Peacock. Then Sarah was in bliss. She +danced along with the little ones, singing as she went, romped around +the old park trees or through thickets, and often brought her charges +home splashed and dirty, with their clothes all torn, but in a state of +delight not to be described. And the scoldings that ensued did not +somehow hurt Sarah's feelings much. Life was strong within her, and her +heart was light. + +All this time, in fact, Sally Wanless was developing into a lovely +woman. Her slim, rather lanky figure grew rounder and increased in +gracefulness. Her face, ah! how many a lordly dame would have envied +her, would have thanked Heaven for a daughter with such a face! It was +impossible to look on it and not be struck with its beauty. Her +complexion was fair like her mother's, but her features resembled her +father's. The face was a fine soft oval, the nose aquiline, the brow +perhaps narrower than strong intellect demanded, but high and open, and +the eyes of greyish blue were large and full of dancing mirth. A certain +sensuousness lay hid in the lines of the mouth, but it betokened rather +an unformed character than a bent of disposition. Under the right +guidance, Sally's mouth might yet grow as firm in its lines as her +father's. Poor lass, would she get that guidance? + +Well, well, think not of evil now. Try rather to picture this fair +peasant maiden in your mind. Behold her all innocent as she is, romping +through the park with the children, dressed in her clean, neat, print +gown, with her rich brown hair perhaps broken loose and tossing about +her shoulders as she runs hither and thither, chased by the shouting +little ones. And as you look, remember that this fair lass was but a +peasant's child, born to serfdom at the best. Between her and those +children there was hardly a human bond. + +Think not of evil, I have said; and yet at this very time much evil was +at hand for poor Sally. Just as I have set her before you, all rosy and +bright with exercise, she ran full tilt one day almost into the arms of +Captain Cecil Wiseman. The captain was lounging along with his gun under +his arm, smoking a pipe of wonderful device, and with a couple of +setters at his heels, who barked half in surprise at the sudden +apparition. Sarah came rushing from behind a clump of rhododendrons, and +almost fell at the Captain's feet, through the violent wrench she gave +herself to avoid a collision. Cecil Wiseman opened his heavy eyes, +stared in impudent wonder for a moment, and then, as if moved to +involuntary respect by what he saw, doffed his hat, and mumbled +something or other, Sally did not wait to hear what. Blushing all over +her already flushed face, she darted off to hide her confusion, followed +by the shouting children, from whom she had been fleeing. + +After that meeting the captain suddenly found his nephews and niece +interesting. He condescended to play with them so often, that his mother +began to take heart. Her son was going to turn out a fine fellow, after +all, and, poor boy, she had perhaps been too hard on him for his wild +oat sowing. It was part of the education of gentlemen in his position, +and, no doubt, contributed to endow them with that contempt for the +feelings of the common people proper to aristocrats. So Lady Harriet was +happier. Her son found means to come home oftener, and stayed longer +when he did come. He even took some interest in the affairs of the +estate, went to church occasionally, and asked some of the farmers' +names. + +Never for a moment did Cecil's mother imagine that he was merely engaged +in stalking down the under nurse of his sister's children, and that the +greater the difficulty he experienced in doing so, the more his passion +incited him to acts of apparent self-denial. He grew an adept in +hypocrisy in order to put the girl, his mother, everyone, off the scent, +and it became positively astonishing to see how his habits changed, and +his wits sharpened, under the stimulus of this now exciting hunt. He +displayed cunning and ingenuity of device worthy of a better cause. + +In early summer, for example, he spent whole mornings teaching the two +elder children to ride, walking or trotting with them all round the +park, and to all appearance heedless of the nurse girl, who was left +alone with the youngest, when her superior chose to be elsewhere. At +other times, if he met her with the children, which was often +enough,--it seemed to be always by chance,--he would be busy discussing +horticulture with the gardener, fishing, or going for a row on the pond, +off to the warren to shoot, always occupied, and always ready to express +noisy surprise at finding the "pups" there, as he called the little +ones. When he went on wet days to play in the children's room, it was +always in company with his sister, who, however, was usually driven off +within a few minutes of her entrance, by the row that "Uncle" +systematically started. + +All this and much more, Captain Cecil Wiseman, the nobly born +aristocrat, put himself to the trouble to do, and suffer, in order that +he might work the ruin of an innocent, unsuspecting, country maiden. For +long, he had no apparent success, for Sally Wanless was shielded by her +very innocence, and she was also very shy, so that it was most difficult +to get near her. By degrees, however, she became familiar with the +Captain's face and figure, and his presence ceased to be either +repulsive to her or to frighten her. Not very tall, heavy in make, and, +with fluffy, sodden features, and a skin already over red from +dissipation, Captain Cecil was by no means an attractive person. His +voice, too, was harsh, and his eye evil. For all that, patience and +cunning carried the day. Labouring incessantly to throw the girl off her +guard, he succeeded, and as soon as he had done so, he knew the game to +be in his own hands. It is a terrible mystery this power which +evil-minded men gain over women. They fascinate them, as snakes are said +to fascinate birds, till they become powerless, and fall helpless and +abandoned into the jaws of destruction. + +By slow degrees then the captain drew Sally into his power, and seduced +her. He had stalked his game, with more than a hunter's patience, but he +triumphed. Bewildered, surprised, horrified, the poor girl scarcely knew +what had befallen her, felt only a vague dread and consciousness that +somehow, for her, the world was all altered, that where joy and hope had +been, there was now the ashes of a burnt-out fire. Ah, poor young lass, +this squire's son, this noble captain of Her Majesty's Dragoon Guards, +had done his best to destroy you, body and soul, and boasted of the +deed. In proportion, as the task was hard, he exulted at his success. +To destroy the life of a virtuous girl was almost a greater triumph to +him than to be first in at the death of a fox. To win this triumph he +had stooped to lies black as hell, and cared not. His end gained, his +interest in his victim at once sank, and soon he hated the sight of her +sad, tear-swollen face. Ah, God! that these things should be, and men +have no shame for the shameless seducer, no horror of his blasting +career. + +But had this maiden no guilt, then? Yes, she had guilt of a kind. She +was inclined to be vain of her beauty, and her betrayer fastened on that +weakness. His flattery pleased her, till she grew, half unconsciously, +proud that so fine a gentleman as this captain creature should notice +her. This pride begat conceit and a foolish confidence in herself that +made her betrayal easy. After what her parents had taught her, she ought +to have known better. True pride, a jealous care for her womanhood, +should have possessed her. Instead of that she grew giddy, and so was +allured to her destruction, like the moth to the candle. Thus far she +was guilty; but wilt thou condemn her, O censor? And if so, what of the +man? Is it not strange that he, so much more guilty, should go +scatheless; that to "society," as the froth at the top insolently calls +itself, this base creature, this loathsome seducer, should be as good as +ever? For him the lofty mothers of the aristocracy would have no +censure, in him their daughters, should whispers of his deeds reach +their ears, would have a livelier interest. Amongst most people he would +bear repute as a "man of gallantry," a "dreadful lady-killer;" at +worst, a "rake" of the dirt-heroic kind that heightened rather than +otherwise his eligibility as a match for the fairest of the daughters +exhibited for sale in the markets of Belgravia and Mayfair. A man that +could ruin a country maiden and then fling her from him, all heedless of +her broken heart, with no more thought of her than if she had been a +dead dog, must, in the view of society, be a man of spirit. As for the +ruined one--faugh! speak not of a thing so repulsive. Let her die in the +street. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +BRINGS THE READER BACK TO THE RESPECTABILITIES OF THE PARSONAGE. + + +After the high-born Captain Cecil Wiseman had accomplished his purpose, +Sarah Wanless lost her attraction for him. With a fiendish guile he had +tracked her down, and now that the chase was over, the victory won, why +should he bother himself further? Sarah's beauty was not less; nay, was +rather enhanced by the new sadness that shaded her face; but the Captain +hardly looked at her again. These confounded wenches were so given to +whimpering, and this serene aristocrat hated "scenes." Had Sally been +bold and of brazen iniquity, like many of the stained ones he knew in +the greenrooms of London theatres, she might possibly have held this +lust-consumed reptile a little longer in her power, but being only a +simple village maiden slowly awakening to the horror of the fate that +had befallen her, the sight of her tearful face made him avoid her. What +had he to do with the consequences of sin and folly? Was not the world +bound to make his vices pleasant to him? + +This thoroughbred captain in Her Majesty's Dragoon Guards left Sally +then, and sought other attractions, his appetite whetted by his success. +Even as he snared Sarah Wanless his roving eye had sighted other game. + +The vicar's wife, Mrs. Codling, had several daughters whom, like a +judicious mother, she was anxious to marry well. These the Captain had +deigned to notice somewhat in the course of his long visits at the +Grange while Sally's destruction was in progress. At church more than +once his greedy eye had rested on the vicar's pew with a hard gaze of +admiration, and on week days his footsteps had begun to stray towards +the vicarage often enough to set Mrs. Codling's brain a-scheming. It +would be indeed a triumph, she felt, if the heir of Squire Wiseman could +be got to marry one of her daughters. But that was a job which needed +the most delicate handling, for if Lady Harriet got wind of her designs, +the consequences would be more than Mrs. Codling felt able to face. At +the best the parson's daughter would have been considered no fit match +for so great a personage as this ill-doing guardsman, but, as things +were, the very idea of such a marriage would have been received at the +Grange with unutterable scorn. + +Times were in many ways changed with the vicar since that day now long +past, when his soft, fat hands were uplifted in holy repulsion of the +horrible rabbit-slaying criminal who stood before him doomed. For one +thing he had gathered a family around him, and for another he had been +overtaken by poverty--a poverty that came of greed. The living of +Ashbrook was worth in money about L250 a year, and there was a good +vicarage with a large garden and paddock, so that altogether Mr. +Codling was as well off in the country as he would have been with L500 a +year in town. To this income, itself above starvation point many +degrees, Mrs. Codling had added an income of nearly L2,000, which made +the home more than comfortable. A contented man would have been very +happy with such a provision, judged even by the standard of the +_Spectator_, which admires Christianity with a well filled purse, but +Mr. Codling wanted more, like most parsons. One would think from the +eagerness shown by such to possess themselves either of rich wives or of +large incomes made out of nothing, that somehow Christianity and poverty +are things that cannot exist together. Luxury is certainly essential to +the true faith of the majority of modern parsons. Without it they +shrivel up, grow morose, full of evil thoughts, such as envy and malice, +and instead of an example are a warning. + +Parson Codling, then, took the common clerical fever. During the railway +mania he saw men spring suddenly from poverty to great wealth, and very +soon came to the conclusion that nothing would be easier than for him to +do as they did. Entirely ignorant of the game of speculation, Codling +took to speculating with the fearlessness of a master in the art, and +following a common rut of fortune, he for a time succeeded. One land +speculation in which he joined, and where the shareholders of a new line +of railway were fleeced of fabulous thousands, cleared him, it was said, +about L1800, and he did well with sundry purchases of shares. Naturally, +success made him bolder. He bought anything and everything, became an +expert user of stock exchange slang, and deeply versed in the "rigs" +and dodges of the share market. Some of the squires around began to envy +him, others cursed him for a nuisance, but still he made money, and no +doubt would have gone on making it indefinitely had somebody always been +found ready to buy when he wanted to sell. Unluckily for him, the day +came when he could not sell at any price, and as he had been lifted +clean off his feet by the elation of his early speculative successes, he +only came back to the hard earth to find himself ruined. The crisis of +1847 did not break out without much foreshadowing to prudent men, but to +the Rev. Josiah Codling it came like the trumpet of doom. Till the very +last he clung to the hope that a rise in the share markets would set him +free. That fatal October therefore passed like a whirlwind, leaving +Codling stripped of all he had previously made and some L40,000 in debt. +To save him from public exposure and disgrace, his wife had to part with +nearly all her property in Worcester, and they were glad, ultimately, to +escape with as much as yielded about L200 a-year beyond the value of the +living. Had all the creditors been fairly paid they would not have +retained a penny, but Codling struggled and wheedled, and, it is said, +shed copious floods of tears over his hard fate, until pitying people +let him go. + +Such an untoward end of the glorious visions in which the vicar had +indulged naturally embittered his home circle. Mrs. Codling could not +forgive her lord for ruining her, and took to reviling the poor wretch +early and late. The miserable fellow would have borne his misfortunes +ill enough even if sympathised with. Being reviled, he bore them not at +all. He drowned them in drink. At first he stupified himself with +brandy; but that proving too dear for his means, he relapsed to gin, and +led a sodden existence. + +All too late his wife saw the blunder she had made, and tried to wean +him back to sobriety. Failing in that, her pride and cunning came to the +rescue. She smothered her tears and veiled her sorrows before the world, +hiding at the same time her husband's infirmity as much as possible from +the public eye. The lot was hard, her punishment severe, but she braced +herself to it with a woman's patient courage, and straightway opened her +heart to new hopes and dreams of better days to come. Henceforth the aim +of her life must be to get her four daughters settled in life. Alas! the +settlements would need to be humbler now than those she had once dreamed +of. The tables of the great ones of the parish were not now open to them +as they had been before her money had gone, and before Codling took to +drink. There was not even a barrack in the neighbourhood, with its +successive bevies of foolish young officers to prey upon--only +Leamington with its dawdling crowds of nobodies. Ah, well, the most had +to be made of the opportunities that offered. + +These being the circumstances of the family at the vicarage, this the +mental attitude of Mrs. Codling, who could wonder that her soured spirit +rose once more within her with a feeling akin to gratitude towards a +merciful providence, when Captain Wiseman came in her way? Despair had +sometimes nearly marked her down for his prey, and lo! here was the +Prince of the fairy tale. Dresses were forthwith obtained for the girls +such as they had not worn for years, for happily their mother had still +a few jewels left which she could pawn or sell. And being handsome +girls--two of them particularly so--they soon attracted a good deal of +the roving guardsman's attention. At first a little flirtation with them +gave a pleasant variety to his existence, rendered just a little +monotonous by the labour of stalking down Sally Wanless. The shrewd +mother contrived that his opportunities should be frequent. The old pony +chaise was furbished up anew and the girls took to driving the fat, +wheezy, old pony about the country in a manner new and far from +agreeable to it. In this way they managed to cross the Captain's trail +much after his own style with Sally. During that winter he hunted a good +deal, and the Codling girls developed an enthusiasm for the sport which +made them haunt meets far and near. Months before the Captain flung +Sarah from him he had thus become familiar with the sight of these +girls, and no sooner was she well destroyed than he began to develop a +preference for the youngest but one--Adelaide or Adela Codling. Miss +Adela was a buxom, roystering, kind of girl, of handsome features, light +brains, and abundant animal spirits. Already, though but nineteen, she +had a reputation amongst her acquaintances of being what the pump-room +gossip of Leamington styled "fastish." She affected _outre_ fashion in +dress, and was always ready to lead a revolt against established +proprieties. To play the boisterous hoyden at a harvest home or +farmer's Christmas dance, where she could scandalise all the sober +domestic virtue of the parish and make every buxom farmer's lass wild +with jealousy by her extravagant flirtations with the young men, +delighted Miss Adelaide beyond measure. + +This free young lady was most to the Captain's taste of all the four, +but her mother felt disappointed at the preference. It not only left the +eldest girl out in the cold, but made Mrs. Codling's task more +dangerous. Adela had no prudence, and unripe plans might become known to +Lady Harriet through her folly. Besides, her ladyship would probably be +harder to persuade into accepting Adela as a daughter-in-law than any of +the other three. + +So thought the prudent, anxious mother; but she was too wise to +interfere. A risk must be taken in any case, and she resolved to let the +captain have his way, bracing herself to greater vigilance and higher +flights of matrimonial diplomacy than ever. And she found a much more +efficient ally in the Captain than she had expected. Men, in her +opinion, were never prudent in love matters, but this man was as +cautious as a diplomat on a secret mission. It did not suit him any more +than Mrs. Codling that his mother should scent danger in his visits to +the vicarage. In such a place as Ashbrook and in ordinary circumstances +all their care would have gone for nothing; but, happily for their +plans, her ladyship did not go out much now, and called seldom on any of +her neighbours. Her husband, the estate, her miserable son, any one of +them would have given her grief or work enough to keep her well at home. +When she went abroad, therefore, it was generally for an hour's drive +out and home, or to Leamington or Warwick on business. + +Just now she was struggling hard not to lose the dream of hope that had +for a short time gladdened her heart about her boy, and was failing in +the effort. Notwithstanding his long visits to the Grange, his demands +for money continued to be insatiable. He always put his necessities down +to the bad conduct of the Jews. They had got him fast, he said, and +would give him no peace. But as bill after bill got paid, only to be +succeeded by a new crop, Lady Harriet began to doubt the truth of this +tale, and in her unhappiness shut herself up more than ever. The Captain +had only to spend a little of the money wrung from his mother in bribing +her maid, and he was free to destroy all the women of the parish if he +chose. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +REVEALS THE SORROWS OF A MERE PEASANT MAIDEN. + + +Lady Harriet did not even hear of her son's ongoings with Sally Wanless, +though to the menials of her household and the gossips of the village +they had furnished for months back one of the most delightful and +engrossing topics of conversation that the oldest among them had ever +been permitted to share in. It was better than the most sensational +romance of the _London Journal_; for was not this drama being acted out +before their very eyes? They took the same delight in it, though keener +and deeper, that they would have taken in any sport involving the death +of the weaker creature, and few among them cared in the least for the +girl whose danger they failed not to see. Among the young her beauty +excited envy, and they virtuously rejoiced that her pride would yet +bring her sorrow. All, young and old, loved an intrigue for itself; and +would not have spoiled their sport for the world. The servants at the +Grange carried their tales to the village, and the village gossips drew +together in the fields, on the road, by the pump, at cottage doors, to +roll the sweet morsel of scandal under their tongues. + +All this time Sarah's parents were kept in ignorance of what was afoot. +Neither dreamt of danger to their daughter, because neither was aware +of the fiend who pursued her. As for Sarah herself, she behaved better +after she had begun to feel the spell of the Captain's fascination upon +her than before; was more demure and obedient. This she was half +unconsciously, half from a wish to propitiate her father and mother in +view of she knew not what. + +Pausing not to think, heedless of the smiles and whispers, the nods and +winks that greeted her wherever she went, all of them signs full of +warning to one disposed to alarm, free, happy-hearted Sally Wanless +plunged into the abyss. + +Ruined and forsaken, she came to herself only to find that she had +entered a new world. Sorrow and darkness dwelt within where light had +been; and around her all was changed. The silent hints of her fellow +servants gave place to open taunts and scorn. None pity a fallen woman +so little as her fellow women, and Sally's fellow servants were not long +in making her life an unrelieved agony. The bloom forsook her cheek, her +step became listless, her eyes dull and sunken. She literally withered +before her tormentors, and they pitied her not. + +A change so great soon attracted the attention of her parents, +especially as for a little time her manner in her visits to them became +suddenly dashed with recklessness. The wretched girl, in trying to be +her old self, was, like a bad actor, overdoing her part. Her parents +grew uneasy, and the uneasiness gave place to alarm when Sally grew pale +and silent. Afraid to speak, hoping it might be some cross in love +matters, which most young lasses experience, both her father and mother +yearned after their daughter. At length the accidental discovery of some +trumpery trinket of the Captain's, which Sally wore round her neck, led +to the revelation of all their daughter's peril and loss, although the +knowledge came too late. + +The ribbon by which the trinket hung had become loose, and it fell on +the floor. Before Sally could pick it up, her mother's hand was on it. +Holding it to the light, she found that it was a gaudy looking locket, +and instantly demanded where Sally had got this. Taken by surprise Sally +answered at once, + +"From Captain Wiseman." + +"From Captain Wiseman! Oh, Sally!" That was all she said; but the tone +and the look went to the girl's heart and tore it with a new misery. Her +father turned in his chair and looked at her for a minute or two without +speaking. She took his gaze to mean rebuke, and mechanically tried to +escape from the house. Then her father spoke. + +"Stay, Sarah," he said. "Go with your mother to the boys' room. We must +know what this means." + +Equally mechanically she obeyed, suffering her mother to lead her away. + +Left alone, Thomas said that he did not think of anything particular for +some time. He just sat still as if animation was suspended, a dull +feeling of pain, a sense of stunnedness possessing his whole being. The +fate of his pretty daughter was before his inward eye all the time. He +gazed at it and realized it, but it did not move him. His emotions were +frozen up. + +It was some time before the mother and daughter came back, and the girl +would not face her father. He rose to bid her good night. She hesitated +a moment and then muttering, "I shall be late," turned and fled from the +house. + +Mrs. Wanless told her husband that she could make nothing of the girl. + +"I plead with her," she said; "I scolded her and tried to work on her +feelings, but she just hid her face in her hands, and rolled and moaned +like to break her heart." + +Poor, lone lass, her tale needed no words to make it plain. Already it +was known to all the village, and this Sunday night the hideous reality +entered the minds of her parents, breeding there a sorrow the keenest +they had ever known. + +At the Grange, too, who was there knew not? That Sunday night Sally was +actually late as she had said, and the scolding, seasoned with brutal +taunts, which she had to endure from her superior, might have stung the +girl to retaliation had not a deeper pain laid hold of her spirit. She +paid no heed to the taunts and broad allusions of her neighbour, whose +heart was perhaps the bitterer from the recent failure of her own last +effort at husband-catching. A fire raged in Sally's heart that seemed to +be consuming her very life. Her one hope now was to die. That would be +best. As soon as possible she crept silently away to bed. How blessed is +the darkness to the soul that is ashamed! Sally's grief, deep and +bitter though it might be, was little to the sorrow and pain she had +left that night in the home of her childhood. The deathly calm in her +father's mind was succeeded by a storm before which Sally's sobs were as +the wailings of an infant. His spirit had been stirred to its depths by +many storms in the past, and needed much to rouse it now, but what he +had learned to-night was surely enough. In the darkness of the night the +full horror of what had befallen his daughter and himself was pressed in +upon his thoughts till his heart rose in bitterness unspeakable. Was it +true, then, he asked himself again and again, that his child, the +darling of his old age, had been ruined by this cub of the oppressor? +Had this blackest of all wrongs been added to all the rest? There was +but one answer, and as he brooded over the shame and misery that would +fall upon his daughter and on all the family, as he thought of this +heartless seducer going through the world scathless, passion swelled +within him. An impulse to vengeance swept over him. Had the Captain been +within reach of Thomas's hands then, the old man might have slain him. +Yes, he felt he could die cheerfully for his daughter's sake, were her +wrongs fully avenged. Ah, if he could thus bring back her good name! But +would not mere vengeance be sweet? To take the scoundrel's life-blood! +He set his teeth, his frame shook under the gust of his terrible agony +of grief, hatred, and shame, and he longed for the daylight that he +might go and find the seducer of his precious one. The desire for +revenge was strong upon him with the strength of a great temptation. + +Then his mood changed. The fierce fires burnt themselves low. Weary and +exhausted he lay still, and for the first time became aware that his +wife was silently weeping by his side. He had thought she slept. A +softer mood stole into his heart, but he could not speak of the grief +that consumed them both. In the morning he rose, weary and sad, to go +about his day's work. Days passed before he made up his mind what to do, +and during these days, his wife waited with anxious patience, too wise +to worry her husband. At last, he resolved to bring her home. Anger and +revenge were conquered thus far, and love and pity for his child were +victorious. + +"We must take Sally's shame to ourselves, mother," he said to his wife, +when his mind was made up. "I know it will be hard for you, harder than +you think; but she is our flesh and blood, and we must stand by her. +What say ye, wife?" + +"An' what can I say, Thomas? I've been wishin' her home ever since +Sunday, for I'm sure she'll die where she is. Oh! my poor darling; God +pity her. The sin is surely not hers;" and Mrs. Wanless wept, but her +heart was glad that the father was ready to shield and forgive. +Sometimes, as she watched the hard stern lines of his face, or his fixed +gaze of wrath, she had dreaded a sterner decision. But now again +Thomas's better nature had triumphed, and his faith in the everlasting +justice inclined him to mercy. + +As this talk took place on the Thursday evening, it was thought best to +wait for Sally's return on Sunday, rather than to excite comment by +going at once in quest of her. Her mother had stolen to the Grange on +the previous Monday morning, to find out whether Sally had gone back, +and had then seen and heard enough to make her dread another visit. + +But they waited in vain for Sally that Sunday. She never came near her +father's house, but spent her hours of liberty alone in the woods, +afraid to face her father, and vaguely wishing she were dead. Her mother +must go and tell her what had been decided on, after all. + +So on the Monday morning, Mrs. Wanless again set out for the Grange. +With sickening heart and trembling steps, she crept along the sweeping +avenue like a thief in dread of being seen. The day was grey and cold, +as the latter days of April often are, and the leaden clouds threatened +rain. It was one of those days when spring has, as it were, turned back +to give a farewell hand-shake to winter. A chilly blast swept along the +ground in gusts, and made one shiver; the world looked dreary and +forbidding; birds were silent; and as one looked abroad on the cheerless +world, and mournful sky, one grew unconsciously to have a shut-in kind +of feeling. If only a rift would appear in that grey canopy, then one +might breathe and have hope. Who has not come under the spell of such +days? To whom have they not seemed to increase the bitterness of sorrow, +to add weight to the burden of disappointment? + +Mrs. Wanless was probably all the sadder this morning that the day was +sad, though her thoughts were too fixed on Sally to be overborne by any +idle impressions from the leaden aspect of the landscape. Or perhaps +she felt that the day and her feelings were in wonderful unison. A +beautiful spring morning might have jarred on her spirit. Spring +sunshine is so gladsome, so full of hope, and Mrs. Wanless had no hope, +only a longing to bring her daughter home and hide her away out of the +world's sight. + +Intent on her errand, she approached the house--a large, square +building, with innumerable staring windows and a bare lawn in front, +where a poor woman could find no hiding place--but as she neared the +servants' door round in the east end of the mansion she paused +irresolute. She remembered the reception of a week ago, the whispers and +nods and innuendos of the wenches who came and went with a wonderful +bustle of extemporized activity as she stood speaking to her daughter +just by the door. If Sally would but come out, she thought, as once and +again she turned back unable to muster courage, and cowered by the +garden wall, which approached that end of the house, wherein lay the +servants' quarters, with her old shepherd's plaid shawl gathered tightly +round her. But no one came save menials, out of whose sight the poor +bruised mother would fain have kept herself. The children of the +gentlefolks would not be out of doors that day. It was too cold. + +At last Mrs. Wanless nerved herself to a desperate effort, left the +shelter of the garden wall, and walked as firmly as she could up to the +kitchen door, and feebly knocked. She waited a long time as it seemed to +her palpitating heart, but no answer came. Her knock had not been heard, +so she tried again, this time a little less feebly. It was no +use--nobody minded her. Would she go away? Nay, she dared not do that. +She would wait, somebody was sure to turn up presently. The resolution +was hardly formed when the door opened, and her daughter and she stood +face to face. A scared look came into the girl's eyes as she exclaimed, +"You here again, mother;" the blood mantled to her forehead, and she +half stepped back. But her mother caught her by the arm feverishly, and +led her away from the house, saying-- + +"Oh, Sally, I do so want to see you, but I didn't like to come in again. +Why didn't you coom home last night?" + +Sally tried to frame some excuse, but her voice failed her; she turned +pale as death, and hung her head. + +"Why didn't you, dear;" her mother repeated, in a dull, mechanical sort +of way. Sally's feelings overcame her. She burst into tears, and through +her sobs gasped out-- + +"I thought you--father--wouldn't let me come back." + +Her mother did not at once reply, she was too pained, and also too +keenly alive to the eyes that were at many a window gloating over her +daughter's misery. Almost roughly she tightened her grasp on the girl's +arm, and hurried her round the corner of the garden wall, never halting +till safely behind a clump of evergreens. Then she released her +daughter, turned, and clasped her to her breast. Both wept now, and, as +she wept, the poor, stricken mother cried-- + +"Ah, Sally, Sally, my pet, my pet, you mustn't think on us like that," +in tones that expressed reproach and love and pity and misery all in +one. But no word of reproach did she utter. + +It was some time before the two were composed enough to say much about +anything. Sally roused herself first, for she suddenly recollected that +she had orders to be quick back. She had been sent out for milk for the +nursery. + +"I must run, mother," she said hurriedly, "or Mary Crane will nag at +me;" and she made as if to go. + +"Wait a moment, Sally dear," her mother answered. "I had nearly +forgotten what I came for; A-dear! a-dear! you mustn't stand no more of +Mary Crane's naggings, Sally; an' if she begins to-day, you're to give +up the place and coom home. Now, mind, Sally," she added, eagerly, "that +will be best, give up your place;" for Sally seemed to shrink from the +idea of coming home. + +"But father----he"---- + +"It was father as said it, Sally dear. Father says you must coom home. +He can't a-bear to see you suffering and abused in this big house as +you've been so wronged in; an' ye'll do what father wishes, won't you, +my pet?" + +"Is it really true, mother. Are you sure that father will let me coom +home?" + +"My dear, he sent me to tell ye. Oh, say ye'll coom home, Sally?" + +"But father'll be angry with me and scold me, mother, and I can't abide +that--oh, I can't, I can't," and Sally shook her head despairingly, the +gleam of hope vanishing from her eyes. + +"No, Sally, your father wonnot scold ye. Surely you know him better nor +that. He is too heart-broke about ye a' ready to have any scoldings +left, an' he was never hard to ye. Coom, now; say you'll give up the +place, and it will be all right." + +This and much more the mother said, pleading as for her daughter's life, +and she won her point. Once Sally's dread of her father was somewhat +removed, she caught eagerly at the prospect of escape from the Grange. +Any change would be like going from Hell to Heaven that would take her +away from that place of torment. So anxious was she to get away, once +her mind became fixed, that she never once thought of the burden she +would be to her parents. But for the inexorable month's warning, she +would have taken flight that night. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +WHEREIN WE SEE BREEDING--HIGH AND LOW. + + +Mother and daughter parted almost the moment that the former was assured +of Sally's readiness to come home, and Sally, nearly half-an-hour late, +sped on her errand. It was with a glow on her face and a light in her +eye that had been absent for many a day, that she ultimately reappeared +in the nursery. Her bright looks seemed to add fuel to the wrath of the +upper nurse, who burst out on Sally before she was well in at the door. + +"I shan't stand this no longer, miss, depend on't," the soured, elderly +maiden wound up. "I'm a decent woman, I ham, and don't mean to be +disgraced by the likes o' you, not if I knows it. I've stood a lot too +much from you a'ready, shameless gipsy that ye are. Your hongoin's is +just past bearin', and I mean to tell Mrs. Morgan this very day as 'ow +she must get another nurse an she means to keep you." + +Nearly if not quite as much as this had been said to Sarah Wanless +before now, and she had borne it silently with a bitter heart, because +she found herself alone in the world. But to-day she was bolder from the +consciousness within her that she was not yet wholly forsaken. Driven to +bay by this woman's tongue, she turned upon her, and with flashing +eyes, a voice trembling with passion, cried-- + +"And I have stood too much from you, Mary Crane. You have behaved to me +worse than if I had been a dog, and you're a hard-hearted, selfish +woman. What right have you to trample upon me, as if you was a saint and +more? You've a black enough mind any way, and mebbe you've done worse +nor me before now, for all your spiteful pride and down-looking on a +poor, heart-stricken girl, as never did you no harm. Shame on you, Mary +Crane, I would not exchange my lot for yours yet, if it was to give me a +heart like yours. And you need not trouble Mrs. Morgan with your tales. +I've made up my mind to stand your insolence no longer. I'll go to Mrs. +Morgan myself and give up my place, and tell her how you've used me." + +This unexpected outburst fairly took the nurse's breath away. She +stuttered with inarticulate passion, and danced again in the agony of +rage. A torrent of abuse was on her tongue, but she only managed to hiss +out an opprobrious epithet at the girl, at the sound of which Sally +faced her like one transformed. Drawing her form up to its full height, +and holding her clenched hands close by her sides, she marched straight +at nurse Crane, and fairly stood over her with her face a-flame and lips +set, every feature rigid with scorn and wrath. Crane's heart died within +her. She cowered and hid her face in her hands. + +"Say that word again, Mary Crane," Sally demanded in a low, +passion-thrilled voice, but Mary Crane uttered never a sound. + +"Say it again, will you!" Sally repeated in low tones. "Dare to call me +that name again, and I'll----" But Sarah had no threat big enough for +her wrath. She caught her breath sharp, and came closer to her enemy, +suddenly bent down and laid hold of Mary Crane's head with both her +hands, forcing her to turn up her face. + +But Crane would not look at her. With a half wail, half shriek, her +knees gave way under her, and she sank on the floor wriggling as if +about to take a fit. + +Sarah looked at her for a moment contemptuously, and then turned away, +while the heroic mood was upon her, to seek an interview with Mrs. +Morgan. + +That lady received the announcement of her under-nurse with her usual +high-bred indifference, merely saying, "Oh, very well, you can go." But, +as the girl turned away, something in her manner made Mrs. Morgan +scrutinise her keenly. The girl seemed changed even to the eyes of the +aristocratic lady, and, perhaps, she, too, began to suspect her, for +Sally thought that she saw an expression of mingled contempt and +annoyance on Mrs. Morgan's face, of which she caught a last glimpse on +turning to shut the door behind her. It might have been only her own +heated fancy, but, all the same, Sally's brief spell of courage was over +from that moment. Happily Mary Crane vexed her no more openly, but she +took her revenge in secret. + +Mrs. Morgan's suspicions had been in reality so far excited as to cause +her to make further inquiries. She called Mary Crane into her room one +day and questioned her about "this girl, Sarah--What's her name?" Mary +Crane for a little time would tell nothing. She now both hated and +feared Sally Wanless, and until she could discover exactly where the +girl stood with her mistress, she was not going to commit herself. Her +remarks were therefore cautiously shaped at first, with a view to draw +her mistress out. She prevaricated, dropped hints, and tried to measure +the extent of Mrs. Morgan's knowledge before revealing her own. There +was not only the girl to consider, but also the Captain. It might be +more than her own place was worth to "blab on the Capting." + +Either Mrs. Morgan was obtuse or ignorant, for she gave no response for +some time to Mary's stream of words. "You see, 'm, as Sarah's a light +sort of girl, 'm, as is allus a-runnin' after the men, 'm. She mayn't be +bad, 'm, but she don't beayve proper for one in her station. I'm sure, +'m, I've told her times enough as no good id come of her upsittin' ways, +and her ongoin' with the gentlemens--_a_ gentleman in particler--'as +hoften shocked me, 'm." + +Thus she ran on, till Mrs. Morgan, quite bewildered, exclaimed-- + +"But what has the girl done, then, Mary?" + +"Laws, 'm, 'ow should I know, 'm. Hax herself, 'm, hax the--_a_ +gentleman as you knows, 'm, knows hintimate, 'm." + +"A gentleman I know intimately--what do you mean? I know no gentleman. +Surely you don't mean Captain Wiseman?" + +"Well, 'm, I don't know, 'm. You see, 'm, I thought the family mightn't +like it----" + +"That will do, Mary, that will do. I want no more beating about the +bush. Tell me, yea or nay, has Captain Wiseman been noticing this girl?" + +"Yes, 'm, he 'as, 'm; but I don't think----" + +"Never mind what you think, you are sure of that fact?" + +"Oh, yes, 'm, quite." + +"Ah, thank you; then that'll do for the present," and she motioned to +Crane to leave the room. + +That worthy departed not quite satisfied. She had doubts as to whether +her mistress liked to know the truth, doubted also if she had done Sarah +as much harm as she wished to. But she showed none of these mental +clouds in the servants' hall. There, in Sally's absence, she was +triumphant, and the "said she's" and "said I's" with which the tale was +embellished, served to emphasise the triumph which she indicated that +the interview had been to her diplomatic skill. She only confessed to +one regret. Mrs. Morgan had somehow cut the interview short, "just when +I was a-goin' to tell her all about it." + +Mrs. Morgan, however, did not need to be told all about it. She knew the +habits of her brother, and, her interest once aroused, managed to put +this and that together so well as to arrive before many minutes at a +tolerably shrewd conclusion. "This, then," she said to herself, "is the +secret of Captain Cecil's wonderful reform." That reflection at once +brought her face to face with the question--Shall I or shall I not tell +my mother? It was not a question so easily answered as it seemed. Mrs. +Morgan was inclined to do it from her dislike of the Captain, who had +always absorbed too much of his mother's attention--ought I to have said +love?--for the good feelings of the rest of the family. But, then, this +very preference made it difficult to decide. She might enrage her +mother, and there were family money matters yet to settle, in the +disposition of which a mother's displeasure might cause permanent +changes. For these and other reasons, "too numerous to mention," Mrs. +Morgan hesitated. She would wait on events, on her mother's moods and +her own; so avoiding a decision. + +That seemed easiest, and yet it proved the hardest course to Mrs. +Morgan, who had quite a vulgar woman's delight in retailing scandal. +Before a week was out she found it expedient to tell all. Her mother and +she held a long conference in secret on the Friday after Sally had given +up her place. What they said to each other will never be known; but one +decision came of it that was at once acted upon. Sarah Wanless was +dismissed that night by the orders of Lady Harriet, who sent her own +maid with the message. "Jane," as she was called, delivered it with curt +insolence, and at the same time flung a month's wages, which Lady +Harriet had likewise sent, on the table, with a significant gesture, as +if to say, "You are too unclean, Sally Wanless, to be touched by a +superior person like me." + +When Sarah went home, which she did as soon as her small box was packed +up, and told her parents that she was dismissed, her father was so +indignant that he wanted to send the extra weeks' wages back. His wife, +however, persuaded him that it was better to let things alone. "The +money," she said, "is her right, and can do us no harm; and Sally is +well out of _that_ den anyway." And Mrs. Wanless was right. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THROWS A LITTLE LIGHT ON A SUBJECT SOMETIMES UNCTUOUSLY CONDESCENDED +UPON BY PREACHERS OF "WORDS." + + +I wonder where Christians find authority for our modern treatment of +illegitimacy? Preachers of all sects are never tired of telling us that +they preach peace and goodwill among men. Their religion is to redeem +all wrongs, to make mankind better, to lift the fallen, and cheer the +broken-hearted. So at least they say, but when we look for deeds, we do +not find many in this lower world. The fulfilment of the Christian ideal +is prudently (?) adjourned to the next, above or below. Wherever one +turns in contemplation of modern Christianity, one finds a ghastly +divergence between its professions and its practice, and at no point is +this more visible than in the behaviour of the Churches towards women +who have sinned. Taking their tone from a corrupt society, which desires +to enjoy its vices, and to prey upon its women without taking upon +itself responsibilities which the poor besotted Turk even never dreams +of shirking, the dispensers of the gospel of peace lead the chorus of +reprobation which is heaped upon the woman, who, like the virgin mother +so many of them profess to worship, bears the burden of maternity in +shame and loneliness. No distinction is drawn between woman and +woman--rarely or ever is the guilt of the man considered; the duties of +fatherhood can be neglected by the seducer with tacit, nay, often with +the full approbation of society and the Churches. But on the woman a +penalty falls that is worse than death. She has yielded to the seducer, +and henceforth she must be pressed down and cast out, unless--and the +distinction is important--she be a sinner of the highest caste in +society, when the sin may be covered with lies as with an embroidered +garment; or, unless she belong to the lowest, where the +difference between morality and immorality is too often nearly +indistinguishable--thirteen centuries of more or less well-paid-for +priestly instruction notwithstanding. Speaking broadly, however, the law +of social life condemns the "unattached" woman and her offspring to +obloquy and degradation, and it does this not merely without the protest +of the Churches, but by their full sanction. For ages priests of all +hues have arrogated to themselves the power of regulating the union of +the sexes; without their rites and blessings no two human beings could +become man and wife. When two were thus united the universal cry was +"What God hath joined together let no man put asunder." The priest, in +fact, arrogated to himself the power of the Deity. His "joining" was +God's, and none but his held on Earth or in Heaven. Greater blasphemy +has hardly ever been committed even by priests. By this abominable +fraud--this false assumption of authority--deeper social wrongs have +come upon the world than from any other priestly assumption whatsoever. +The priest has habituated society to disregard all ties formed in what +is called an illegitimate manner. It has sanctioned the desertion of +women by their seducers, and what is even worse, the desertion of +children by their fathers and mothers, for, of course, if the parents +were not priest-joined, the offspring must be of the devil. A man may, +according to this dogma, have lived the life of a fiend, ruining women, +bringing children into the world to live or die as the poor law or +hunger should order; but this is no hindrance to his obtaining the +blessing of "the Church" should he one day take it into his head to +submit to be married to one woman--for gain, for any reason, or none. + +Scoundrel and saint are alike welcome to the priest's services and +blessings if the marriage fees be paid; and with the full concurrence +and blessing of any sectary in the world, a man may disjoin himself from +a woman or women he has lived with for years in order to take another, +if there was no marriage uniting him to these he deserted. God, of +course, could not be expected to "join" those who never sought a +priest's help. The whole basis of this treatment of the sexes is grossly +and blasphemously immoral, and the fruits of it are visible on every +side. To it we owe the highly nourishing character of the "social evil" +quite as much as to man's inherent depravity, and we shall never really +begin to overcome that evil until the whole of the teachings and +assumptions of the sects, as applied to marriage and divorce, are swept +clean out of the public mind. + +Who is there to whom the history of some poor woman betrayed and +deserted is not known--a woman, it may be, tender-hearted and true, as +worthy of wifehood as any of her sex? Did society pity that woman? Have +you pitied her? Perhaps, but would you not also gather up your garments +and pass by on the other side, if you met her in public? Habit is so +strong, you will say in excuse; yes, yes, habit is strong, and the woman +is weak. Why should one heed her? She brought her fate on herself. Leave +her to perish. The man she loved has left her, and the world treats her +no worse than he. If her own sex spits upon her and hisses at her, what +can man do? These be the thoughts of most men over broken lives, and +most readers may therefore feel impatient that I should linger over the +ruin and fall of a poor peasant lass. Yet what can I do? my task is to +write the history of this family; its sorrows and failings, its burdens +and tears, are all that it has wherewith to claim the world's attention. +And to my thinking, they mean much. Their lives were real to them, as +yours, reader, is to you, and they had a part in making up the pitiful +social life of this decrepit old England possibly just as high as yours. + +Therefore must I ask you to turn aside with me for a moment to look +again on Sally Wanless, when she reappears from her seclusion--a shame +mother, with a babe born to sorrow and shame in her arms. I have said +reappears, but she has not yet ventured to meet the, to her, scathing +gaze of the people in the village street. She steals into the little +garden behind her father's cottage, and there, in the soft September +afternoons, you would find her seated beneath the shade of an old apple +tree, face to face with her doom, and looking at it as one who has no +hope. + +In some people the soul wakes late; some, indeed, appear to pass through +the world without its ever awakening. They may be bright-hearted people, +full of animal life and spirits, capable of much work and a few +sacrifices, yet they have never risen up to full consciousness of the +meaning of life, to its higher impulses, and its terrible risks and +obligations. No great inward commotion has ever visited them; they +vegetate tamely on till they reach the grave. Others, like Thomas +Wanless, awake early to consciousness of the mystery and burden of +existence, and battle with hopes and fears their lives long. + +Would that his daughter had also found the realities of living ere the +curse of life had come upon her! But she did not. Her awakening came too +late. While it was possible she hid from herself the meaning of her +fall, and refused to look at the awful questions which for the first +time surged in upon her soul. It was not possible for long. When the +wail of her infant first broke on her ear she awoke and was stricken +with the full consciousness of what she had lost. Her past life stood +out before her as something apart; its hopes belonged to another state +of existence, to a life in which her future could have no part. All +lonely at the heart she had borne the pains of motherhood, and a feeble +infant lay by her side bearing witness against her now and evermore. No +father welcomed it. The sound of its feeble cry brought a forsakenness +about the mother's heart nothing could remove. In vain her mother +soothed her. In vain her true-hearted father, bravely hiding away his +shame and grief, took the little one in his arms and fondled it with a +fatherhood that assumed all the sin and all the responsibilities of his +child. Sarah could not be comforted. Blank despair took possession of +her. Why was she not dead? Why did the child live? Surely they would be +both better dead and buried out of sight for ever? This was the under +tone of her thoughts now, save when at times, and as she grew strong +again, gusts of passion like her father's would sweep over her soul. +Then she felt for moments as if she could compel the world to stop and +witness her revenge. Should a fit like this master her, what might one +so desperate not do? Hers was a soul awake and in prison, but if it +burst its bonds? + +Let the gay and frivolous, the light talkers, the young and giddy, the +tempter and the tempted, stop to look upon this ruin. Is it a small +thing, do you think, for a man to have the undoing of this woman and +child laid to his charge. He passes in the world unharmed, nay, admired, +probably, the very women in secret whispering admiringly of his prowess. +But does that make his guilt the less? Is there no retributive justice +dogging his heels, from which all the glories and adulations of earth +cannot shield him? Look at the history of such men, and be they kings or +carters, you will find that they become degraded wretches, moral +abortions, repulsive ruins of humanity, as the result of their crimes +against woman. Yea, the woman is avenged, though only after death comes +the judgment. + +But Sally Wanless thought not of revenge, that calm September evening, +on which my memory pictures her through the mirror of other eyes, +seated, half in shadow, half in sunlight, beneath the old apple tree. +Her baby lies asleep on her lap, the sunlight glints through the leaves +on her hair, and flickers now and then across the infant's face--but she +heeds neither child nor light. A far-away look is in her eyes--a look +that tells of longing, for what will never be hers again on earth. The +evening sun-glow throws into relief the pale, pinched face with its +unresigned hungry look, for in that face there is no welcome to the +sober autumn warmth. The dull fire of Sally's eyes is the fire of an +unquenchable pain. Where is there room in her life for joy any more? Her +eye does not trace heaven's battlemented walls, in those grand masses of +white clouds--the blue expanse beyond is not eloquent of the near world +unseen. No; her thoughts are self-centred; she never looks upward. Day +after day she sits here, still and silent, as one stunned. Her spirit +seems at such times as if beaten to the earth, never to rise again. The +child sometimes fails to interest or rouse her. When its wails demand +attention, she will fondle and kiss it much, as if it were made of wood. + +Alas; poor Sally, winsome lass. How many such as you go aching through +the world, broken-hearted, and forsaken,--waiting for the judgment to +come, when, as they still, perhaps, lingeringly hope, the wrong shall be +righted for evermore. + +Her parents yearned after their daughter, and yet feared to break in +rudely upon her brooding spirit. Neighbours came too, full of kindly +promises and curiosity, ready to speak volumes of comforting words; but +Sally shrank from contact with them,--preferred the garden seat, or her +own garret window. + +Thomas became broken-hearted about his child. He could not get her to so +much as look at him. Often times he laid his hands softly on her bent +head, and whispered--"Sally, my lass, cheer up a bit. Don't break +mother's heart and mine, by taking on so." But Sally merely wept, and +bent still lower over her babe. They could not get her to go out during +the day--only at night would she creep along by the hedge-rows, in the +most unfrequented paths, accompanied by her mother, and hiding the child +as much as possible, beneath her shawl, when it was not asleep at home. +Her morbid fancy made her think that everyone knew her shame. She could +not see people talking together without a rush of blood to her face, as +if she felt the talk must be of her. + +And how fared it all this time with her seducer? As the world elects, it +shall always fare. From it he had neither frown nor word of rebuke. +Those that knew his sin thought as little about it as he did, and that +was apparently never at all. He took no more notice of Sarah Wanless and +the infant girl she had borne to him, than if they had been dogs. Nay, +far less, for they were hateful to his selfish, ease-loving nature, and +therefore he rigorously banished them from his sight and thoughts. Just +as before, he took his "pleasure" coming and going to town, and living +the life of sottish ease, as became a man of fashion and a court +soldier. At the Vicarage his welcome was just as warm as ever, although +every soul within its walls was quite aware of the ruin he had brought +on the poor peasant's daughter. Mrs. Codling's verdict naturally was, +that it served the gipsy right, and and her father too. He was always an +insolent fellow, who never showed proper respect for the Olympians, and +this would perhaps take down his pride a bit. This was the view of the +matter insinuated to Adelaide, who had become "skittish" when the news +first reached her ears, thereby, however, increasing the ardour with +which the captain followed her. Mrs. Codling had quite made up her mind, +that through Adelaide she would succeed in catching the Captain as a +son-in-law, and therefore took occasion to put "matters in their proper +light." + +"Of course, my dear," she would say, "we shall have to get rid of the +girl and her brat, for it might be unpleasant to have them in the +parish; but the Captain can manage all that, never fear, and if the +whole nest of them remove to another part of the country, the parish +will have a good riddance. I daresay a few pounds will do it, for all +that old rascal's pride." + +Adelaide was soon satisfied, and soon, also, her flippant tongue had +disseminated this view of the case all over the parish; for Adelaide +would talk to the housemaid when no better listener was to be had. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +BRINGS THE DOUBTLESS RELUCTANT READER ONCE MORE INTO CONTACT WITH A +"GALLANT" WOOER, AND GIVES FURTHER PROOF OF THE DIFFICULTY WHICH BESETS +ALL ATTEMPTS TO HARMONISE TRUTH AND FASHIONABLE "CHRISTIAN" +RESPECTABILITY. + + +Thus was the Captain's way made smooth to him, and the country side soon +became as full of his ongoings with "the parson's girl" as ever it had +been about his intrigue with Sally Wanless. + +Thomas Wanless himself saw and heard much, for his cottage was not very +far from the Vicarage road, and the Captain sometimes forgot himself, +and passed his very door, instead of taking up the back street. +Doubtless it never entered the Captain's head that any peasant would +accost him about such a trifle as the ruin of his daughter. He ought +rather to feel honoured thereat. What he did fear was the girl +herself--he having a fine gentlemanly dread of "scenes." + +Nevertheless, Thomas's wrath was awakened anew at the sight of this +"cool blackguard," as he most irreverently styled the Captain, and soon +the feeling extended to them that "harboured him." It was borne in upon +his spirit, as the Methodists say, that he must denounce the "ruffian." +Yes, yes, he thought, this must be done; till it was done there would be +no relief in his mind. He had borne too much in silence, but that this +harbouring of criminals should go on before his face was more than he +could stand. + +"It will do no good," his wife said, as he declared his purpose to her. + +"Good!" he answered, "who wants or expects good to come to them or us? I +expect none, but I must and shall tell the blackguard what I think of +him." + +Yet this was easier said than done. He could not well stop the Captain +in the street, for he nearly always drove or rode, and never once passed +Thomas's cottage door on foot. It was utterly useless to call at the +Grange, for no one would see him. Obsequious menials might even set the +dogs at him, or trump up a charge against him and put him in jail. +Besides, Thomas had no time except on Sundays to go in quest of his +enemy, and on Sundays the Captain was usually at the Vicarage. In the +bitterness of spirit which these thoughts brought him to, Thomas might +have, perhaps, done something rash, but happily necessity prevented him. +He had now to work, if possible, harder than ever--early and late at the +farm, on his allotment, in the little garden at his cottage, he laboured +for the means of life--and did but poorly, though the work kept him up +and helped him to control the fire that burned within him. + +At last the chance he longed for came suddenly, and without his seeking +it. He was passing the Vicarage garden one beautiful Sunday afternoon +in October, and heard voices on the little lawn which lay between the +hedge and the house. Laughter and the chatter of merry tongues fell on +his ear, and one hard man's voice he instantly guessed must be that of +Captain Wiseman. To reach that conclusion and the resolve to face his +daughter's seducer then and there may be said to have constituted one +mental effort. A rush of strong emotion swept over him and made him +feel, as he opened the Vicarage gate and slipped within, as if God had +laid a mission upon him to lay bare the iniquity of this man and of +those who countenanced him. Under the influence of this feeling he +straightened himself and strode across the grass direct to the place +where he heard the voices. + +The scene that burst upon his view if possible heightened his courage, +and I can well imagine that the rough, toil-gnarled, weather-buffeted +old man looked like an avenging fate to those whose privacy he had thus +invaded. Always dignified and noble in aspect, the anger at his heart +now doubtless made him heroic. + +Mrs. Codling and her four daughters were seated in a group on chairs in +front of a sort of arbour that stood at the further end of the lawn, and +a little behind the western end of the house, not far from the +churchyard, from which it was hidden by a clump of evergreens and a +wall. Behind Adelaide Codling, leaning over her chair, and apparently +teasing her in a familiar _nonchalant_ way, stood Captain Wiseman. As he +faced the gate he was the first to catch sight of Thomas Wanless, and +although he hardly knew Sally's father by sight, he appeared to guess +intuitively that a "scene" was at hand. His red face grew redder still, +his talk suddenly ceased, and an ugly scowl gathered on his fleshly +brow. Mrs. Codling's back was towards the approaching peasant, but the +Captain's sudden silence and the look he gave made her turn round just +as Thomas came up. She also divined that trouble was at hand, and, +bridling up at the idea of that "disgusting creature" parading his +girl's shameless conduct before her pure-minded daughters, prepared at +once for action. + +"See if the Vicar can come out, my dear," she said to the girl nearest +to her, and then addressing Thomas, cried in tones meant to be frigidly +severe, but which only succeeded in being savagely spiteful-- + +"If you want the Vicar, my good man, go to the house. You have no right +to enter this garden." + +She might just as well have addressed the nearest tree. Thomas paid no +attention to her, but stalking up to the Captain, glared at him till +that wretched being shivered with fear in spite of himself. Perhaps this +"gallant" soldier thought Wanless would knock him down, and that may +have been the peasant's first impulse. However, he did not, but instead +turned after a minute or so to Mrs. Codling, and asked, with stern +abruptness-- + +"Madam, do you know who this man is?" + +For a brief space the woman seemed scared and cowed by the tones and at +the face she saw looming above her. "Good gracious me!" she exclaimed, +half to herself. "What does the man mean?" Then, recovering courage, +added, "I do believe the creature is crazy. I'm very sorry, Captain +Wiseman, but really I fear you will have to come to the rescue of us +weak women. Do speak to him and order him off." + +At this two of the girls began to scream, but Adelaide giggled. + +"Since you give me no answer, madam," Thomas struck in, "I shall tell +you who this man is," and he stepped round and backed a little, so as to +be able to look at both the Captain and the Vicar's wife. "This man is +the seducer of my daughter," he continued. "He has committed a crime +against her and against me which is worse than murder in the sight of +God. He is the father of a helpless child that, for all he cares, might +be flung into a roadside ditch to die. For his cold-blooded villainy +that child and my child must suffer all their days. This man, I tell +you," and here his voice rang all over the place, "this man has broken +an innocent girl's heart, and you know it, madam, and you harbour him. +Shame on you!" + +Mrs. Codling grew pale with rage, and tried to speak; but before she got +a word out Thomas had turned to the Captain, who took a step forward as +if to collar him. + +"Captain Wiseman," he said; and at the sudden, sharp address that wretch +paused, grew mottled in the face, and dropped the raised hand by his +side. "What!" cried the labourer, "would you dare to touch me, you low, +libertine scoundrel? Stand back, lest I have to sully my hands by +choking the life out of you, reptile that you are!" + +How much further Thomas might have gone I know not, but by this time +Mrs. Codling had got her voice and charged in turn. She ordered Thomas +to leave the place, and in shrill tones threatened him with the police, +with the Captain's vengeance, with the Vicar's wrath, called him a hoary +old sinner, and well-nigh swore at him for polluting the ears of her +precious daughters with the story of his own girl's immorality. It was a +fearful torrent, Thomas afterwards confessed. Until then he had never +known the length of a woman's tongue. But it came to an end at last, for +Mrs. Codling lost her breath. With a parting shot to the effect that +Thomas had only got what he deserved, and it was like father like +child--low wretches all--the ruffled woman relapsed into a fuming +silence. Somehow the tirade brought relief to Thomas's overcharged +heart. It had an amusing and grotesque side that struck him forcibly in +spite of himself, and it was therefore with a certain sense as of +laughter welling up through his heart of sorrow--a feeling for which he +would fain have reproached himself--that he answered in a voice that +bore down all attempts at interruption-- + +"Poor lady, I did not come here to quarrel with you, far from it. God +forgive you for having such ill feelings, and you a parson's wife too. +But what could one expect when you harbour scamps like this fine +military seducer here? That's enough to make your heart the abode of all +that is wicked. I bear you no malice though, far from it. I would warn +you to mend your steps in time. You call me names, and accuse me of +bringing my corrupt affairs before the pure ears of your daughters. +Take care, woman, take care. The serpent that destroyed my precious lass +has not lost his fangs, and your turn to mourn as I mourn may be nearer +than you think. Because you have fine clothes and luxuries, and live in +a grand house, you think that the ills of the poor cannot reach you. +Take care, I say, or the day may come when I can return your taunt, and +tell you that if you had set a better example to your children, if you +had guarded them against evil company, you might have been spared much +sorrow and humiliation." With this, Thomas turned to go, but the cries +of Mrs. Codling arrested him. + +"The wretch," she shrieked. "Josiah, do, for heaven's sake, speak to +this low fellow. His foul abuse is positively sickening." And as the +Vicar shuffled up in obedience to the summons, his wife, turning to the +gallant rake, added, "I'm so sorry, Captain, that you should have been +insulted here. This must be very disagreeable to you." + +The Captain found voice to assure her that it did not matter. He didn't +"care a hang, you know," and gave it as his opinion that a strategic +movement towards the house might be the best end of the affair. + +"Yes, yes," cried Adelaide, "let us go indoors and leave that fellow to +speak to the trees. He'll soon tire of that;" and she proceeded to +gather up the stray wraps. + +But before this noble plan of out-manoeuvring an enemy could be carried +out, the Vicar and Thomas had encountered each other, and Mrs. Codling +had to rush to the defence of her husband. + +"My good man," the Vicar had begun. "Eh, Thomas Wanless is it? Dear me! +You forget yourself, sir. You mustn't behave in this way in my garden, +and before ladies, too. Go away, go away, and come to me to-morrow if +you have anything to complain of. I'll see you in my study." + +"Come to you!" answered the peasant in tones of amazement and scorn. +"Come to you! what could you do, you whited sepulchre? You God-forsaken, +poor, tippling creature. Mind your own affairs," and he laughed a bitter +laugh, as once more he turned to go. + +The Vicar also turned and slunk away with a scared guilty look, but his +wife's wrath found outlet anew. + +"This is too bad," she screamed after Wanless, "the low scoundrel. Oh, +Captain Wiseman, I do wish you would thrash the fellow to within an inch +of his life. Oh dear! oh dear! will nobody pity me," and she fairly wept +with rage. + +The last that Thomas heard of them was the Captain explaining in his +most persuasive words that "By Jove, you know, it would hardly be the +thing for me to take to fisticuffs with a low labourer-ruffian, else, by +Gad, nothing would have delighted me more than to beat him to a pulp, +you know." + +Thomas turned and gazed in the direction of the speaker as if to invite +him to come and try, but the Captain was busy hurrying the ladies into +the house, and though near enough to see well the look on Thomas's +face, he showed no sign of accepting the implied challenge. + +It was Mrs. Codling who, brave to the last, and woman-like, gave the +parting shot. + +"Be off, you low blackguard," she screamed, and then disappeared within +the house. It afterwards transpired that she caught sight of some of the +servants watching the encounter with Wanless from a window, and had much +comfort from the blowing up she gave them. Her superfluous temper was +thereby wholesomely expended. + +Thomas Wanless went home that afternoon struggling with a feeling of +disappointment in which there mingled a certain degree of shame. He had +never entered the Vicar's grounds with the intention of either wrangling +with the Vicar or his wife. A desire to expose a scoundrel was his sole +motive, and he had felt a sense of the heroic as he proceeded to seek +his daughter's betrayer. Had that man abused him, or struck him, or in +any way given him the opportunity of letting loose his wrath, he would +have, perhaps, felt that a duty had been discharged. Instead of that, +Thomas had merely fallen out with a sharp-tongued, not over-sensitive +woman, and abused a poor parson who, whatever his failings, had not at +the moment the least intention to act otherwise than as a peace-maker. +The heroics had all vanished, and in their place was something grotesque +and ludicrous. The more Thomas thought of it the more he felt that he +had that day vindicated neither his own honour nor his daughter's, and +he resolved that henceforth he should bear his sorrows in silence. + +Perhaps this self-condemnation was not quite reasonable, for Mrs. +Codling provoked Wanless most unjustifiably. She, at all events, got no +more than she deserved. But the labourer was sensitive and proud, and +these feelings made him prefer silent endurance to the loss of +self-respect. Could he have foreseen the consequences which seemed at +least to flow from his one effort at bringing home to the sinner his +sin, he might have had still greater doubts about the wisdom of the +course he pursued on that calm October Sunday afternoon. + +For one thing, the noise of the row between the Captain and Thomas was +soon heard all over Ashbrook. The Vicarage servants retailed it with +many embellishments to their friends--as a secret, of course--and +Adelaide Codling herself let out some episodes to her then bosom friend. +Presently, and in due course, the tale reached the Grange, where it took +the circumstantial and easily comprehended form of an account of a great +fight between the Captain and the labourer, in which the latter had got +two black eyes, a broken nose, cut lips, a thumb out of joint, and some +said three, some five teeth knocked down his throat by the scientific +handling of the gallant guardsman. It was nothing to the purpose to say +that the labourer had been seen going about his work as usual, for +people of his sort thought nothing of maulings that would have nearly +been the death of superior persons--like flunkeys and valets. + +In some such guise, the story ultimately reached the ears of Mrs. +Morgan, who was so much shocked at the idea of a fight between her +brother and a low labouring fellow that she felt constrained to tell +her mother, especially as the fight was alleged to have taken place on +the Vicarage lawn, in presence of the Vicar's family. Mrs. Morgan, +keener sighted than her mother now was, had for some time been aware of +the ambitions of Mrs. Codling, so far at any rate as to disapprove of +the constant intercourse which the Captain had with the Vicarage. In +telling her story, therefore, it was possible for her also to lay +emphasis upon the Captain's relationship with the Codlings, which she +took care to do, and as she flattered herself much that she succeeded +admirably. + +At first it seemed as if she had done nothing of the kind. The Juno of +the parish, Lady Harriet Wiseman, forgot everything for a time in her +wrath at the abominable presumption of a labourer in fighting with her +blue-blooded son, and was eager to have him arrested and punished. In +vain Mrs. Morgan pleaded the scandal such a step would cause; her +wrathful ladyship would hear never a word. Nothing pacified her till she +had spoken to her son on the subject, and she had so set her heart upon +making an example of that vagabond fellow, who had troubled the parish +ever since she could remember, that she was positively more angry than +before when her son told her that what she wished could not be done for +the best of all reasons--there had been no fight. Then her wrath fell +partly on her son, and they quarrelled. She asked him what he was doing +at the Vicarage. He replied that it was none of her business, and left +her with the seeds of jealous suspicion in her heart. + +Next time the Captain met his sister, he rounded upon her, and, +according to common report, called her "a damned meddlesome fool" for +interfering in his affairs. Thus matters were likely to become ravelled +at the Grange. Perhaps it was to lull suspicion and allow the heated +atmosphere to cool that the Captain soon after this betook himself to +Newmarket, and thence to London. Before he went he gave a private hint +to the head gamekeeper that he would not be inconsolable if that +questionable functionary could manage to make out a case of +night-poaching against Thomas Wanless. An underling heard of the plot +and warned Thomas to take care, and though Thomas never poached, the +warning was probably needful enough. + +The row at the Grange was the least significant of the consequences that +flowed from Thomas Wanless's visit to the Vicarage Gardens. Mrs. Morgan +had apparently indicated to her mother the suspicions she entertained as +to the aims of Mrs. Codling, and Lady Harriet, afraid to tackle her son +about his amours, attacked Mrs. Codling instead. It was plainly enough +intimated to that scheming woman that Lady Harriet disapproved of the +constant visits of the Captain to the Vicarage, and Mrs. Codling was +asked to discourage them. + +A sensible person would have deferred to the wishes of the greatest lady +in the parish on a point so delicate, but Mrs. Codling proved to be +anything but sensible. Afraid of exciting the wrath of Lady Harriet by +open hostility, she took refuge in underhand plots. The intercourse +between the Captain and her daughter, which had hitherto been carried +on, in a manner, openly, was now changed, with the mother's connivance, +into a secret intrigue. By this change the whole moral attitude of the +family became debased. Captain Wiseman was astute enough to see through +the would-be mother-in-law's motives, and cunning enough to egg her on +in a course of duplicity and folly. His mother need know nothing, he +represented, till all was over. No doubt she would at first resent a +secret marriage, but when she saw she could no longer help it, her wrath +would soon cool down. + +With talks like these it may be supposed that Adelaide Codling, apt +pupil as she was, soon came to look upon a secret marriage as just the +one thing desirable and necessary to secure her happiness; and, from +this conclusion, it was but a step to destruction. Probably enough +Captain Wiseman had never any intention of marrying the girl, but +whether or not, he certainly had abandoned it, when, after a few weeks +of secret meetings and clandestine letter writing, he succeeded in +persuading her to join him in London. She left home just after +Christmas, in secret to all appearance, though the village gossips would +have it that her mother knew of her flight beforehand, and nobody +doubted that she had run away after the Captain. In vain did Mrs. +Codling give out that her daughter had been called away suddenly to +visit a sick aunt. Nobody believed her. Secret intrigues cannot be +successfully carried out in a quiet country village, and what was +declared to be the true version of the flight was current in all the +country side within a week of Adelaide's departure. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +IS TOO BAD FOR DESCRIPTION. + + +Unthinkingly, Mrs. Robins repeated this story to Mrs. Wanless one day in +Sally's hearing, and immediately repented of her folly, for Sally +uttered a low moan and fainted. From that day the gloom of her life +seemed deeper. With unceasing tenderness and watchfulness her parents +had sought to bring back hope to their lost one's heart, and until this +ugly bit of gossip reached her they had hopes of succeeding. Sally had +began to talk a little more freely, and, recognising the burden she was +to her parents, was becoming anxious to get a situation of some +kind--provided always that it might be far away, where no one would know +her. But from the time she came back to consciousness on this unhappy +day, darkness again settled down on her spirit. She sat apart brooding, +as when first her babe lay on her lap. That babe itself appeared to grow +almost hateful in her sight, and was left to the care of her mother, +weary though the old woman was with work and sorrow. With mouth hard set +and eyes looking wistfully sometimes, as if in terror, into a world far +away from the home nest, Sally heeded no one. Her father again grew +deeply concerned about her, and tried casually to draw her out of the +trance that seemed to chain her soul. It was useless. She answered him +in monosyllables or never at all. At times too, and when he spoke to +her, a strange, resolute look would gather on her face. It was not +exactly obstinacy, though she certainly was unyielding. Rather was it a +look as of one who had made up her mind to a great sacrifice, and feared +that she might be betrayed into abandoning a duty. At that look her +father always somehow grew afraid. It was evident to him that his +daughter in some way connected Adelaide Codling's flight with her own +life, but how he could not guess. + +But his fears were only too well grounded, for one day, Sally, too, +disappeared. Watching her opportunity when the babe was asleep, her +mother busy washing, and her father away at the farm, she dressed +herself as if for a walk, went out, and did not return. All day her +mother had endured the keenest anxiety in the hope that Sally would come +back. She was unwilling to send for her husband, and could only make one +or two cautious inquiries through her nearest neighbours. They knew +nothing; Sally had been seen, of course, but she looked and walked as +usual, with hasty steps and eyes bent on the ground. Though startled at +the news, Thomas was not surprised. The flight only fulfilled his own +forebodings. Swallowing a morsel of food he started for Warwick, and +soon learnt there that a girl answering to Sally's description had left +by the slow London train at eleven o'clock. On his way home he bitterly +reproached himself that he had not taken means to make such a step +impossible. The two or three pounds that Sally had brought home with her +he had scrupulously left untouched, and these she had taken with her, +as also the few trinkets given to her by the Captain. Thomas had no +doubt whatever that Sally had fled to London. + +For a time this blow positively dazed Thomas and his wife. Once more +their nights were nights of sorrow and tears, and for them the mornings +brought no joy. Only the little one that lay sleeping in its wee cot was +all unconscious of trouble, or that its presence added poignancy to the +bitterness with which the labourer and his wife mourned for their lost +one. + +Thomas Wanless, however, was not a man to abandon himself long to +useless grief. The more keen the pain the more certain was his nature to +rise and fight for deliverance, and before long he had made up his mind +that, while he had life, his child should not be abandoned. Cost what it +would, he must follow her to that dreadful city whose horrors darkened +his imagination. The lost one should be found, and, if God would but +help him, saved. So he resolved, although as yet he knew not how his +resolution could be carried out. + +For a day or two he brooded over it, afraid almost to tell his wife. The +fear was weak. No sooner did Mrs. Wanless know what her husband meant to +do than she became almost cheerful, and brought her ready wit to bear on +all possible plans for enabling him to go. Full of a true woman's +self-sacrificing spirit, she at first proposed to go out charring, and +so make a living, but the child made that impossible. The utmost she +could do was to continue to take in washing, and even that would be a +severe strain upon her, with a babe to tend. At best, too, it would +afford her only a precarious living, and nothing possible could be left +to help her husband in London. + +Unable to decide on ways and means, but yet determined to carry out +their one great plan, they ended by casting their trust on Providence, +leaving the future to take care of itself. As a first step, Thomas went +to Stratford, and withdrew the few pounds left in the bank there,--some +L10 or L12. That done, he next went to consult his daughter Jane, as to +what help she could give. Jane had little, and was saving that little to +get married and to emigrate; but when the whole matter was laid before +her, she, too, fell in with her father's plans, and offered him her +money. + +"No, no, I cannot take that," he answered. "I hope to get work in +London, and cash enough to keep soul and body together. I only ask you +to help your mother with it, should she be in need--to help her all you +can, in fact." + +Jane promised all the more cheerfully, perhaps, that her little all was +not immediately to be taken from her to help in this hunt after Sarah. + +Mrs. Wanless also wanted her husband to write to Tom, telling him the +circumstances, and asking for help, but to this he would in nowise +consent. + +"Tom," he said, "needs all his money just now, and what he sends must +come of his own goodwill. Besides we shall get Sally back again, and +then the best thing will be to send her out to Tom. She wouldn't go if +she thought Tom knew what had befallen her. Jacob does not yet know, +Jane will keep silence, and there is no need for Tom to be enlightened." + +This reasoning was unanswerable, and Mrs. Wanless had to acquiesce with +what heart she could. Nay, more than that, sore against her will, she +had to submit to see her husband start for London with only L5 in his +pocket. The rest he insisted leaving with her, on the same grounds as he +had refused Jane's savings. "I shall get work, my dear," he said; "never +mind me," and she had to yield. + +Possibly Thomas would have been less confident had he known what going +to London, and work in London, meant; but in spite of his dread of the +great city, his conceptions were so hazy, that in his heart, as he +afterwards confessed, he never contemplated needing to work there at +all. He hoped to find Sarah in a day or two, or at most within a week, +and once found, was sure that she would come home. His wife, it turned +out, formed a truer conception of the task before him, although she had +never seen a bigger town than Leamington or Warwick. But her fears did +not abate her husband's confidence. Without fixing dates, he told his +master and all whom it concerned, that he expected to be back soon. +Struck, perhaps, by the generous purpose of the man, Thomas's master +thrust a couple of sovereigns into his hand as they parted, but Thomas +would not accept them. In spite of all the farmer could say, Thomas +stoutly maintained that he had enough. "My own means are sufficient," he +said. + +"Your own means sufficient," laughed the shrewd Scot. "Well, I like +that! Man, how much hae ye got?" + +"Five pounds," said Thomas. + +"Five pounds! Five pounds to go to London, and look for a runaway girl +with! Good heavens, man, that'll no keep ye a week. Ye'll starve, +Wanless, lang afore you find the lassie, if ye ever find her. God, man, +if that's a' you can scrape for the job, you'd better bide where ye +are?" + +"That I cannot do," Thomas answered. "Starve or not, I must go and seek +my child." + +The farmer looked at him for a moment, gave a grunt of amazement, and +turned on his heel, with the remark-- + +"Well, well, Wanless, a wilful man must hae his way, they say, and you +must have yours, I suppose, but, faith, I doubt you'll rue your folly." + +And with that consolatory observation, Thomas parted from a master whom +he had learnt to respect, for the rough outside hid a not unkindly +nature. + +The liking was mutual, and was not on Robson's part lessened by the +refusal of his man to take the two sovereigns. The sturdy independence +of his hind was a thing so uncommon, that it excited his admiration, and +stirred his somewhat dulled natural feelings of generosity. Many a time +during the absence of her husband, Mrs. Wanless had cause to bless the +"Missus o' Whitbury Farm" for acts of unostentatious kindness which that +motherly Scotchwoman needed, it must be said, little prompting to +perform. On her husband's suggestion, she called one day at the cottage, +and at once took an interest in the pale, sad woman, and the little +child. Thereafter, many little presents of milk, and of butter and +cheese, found their way to the cottage from Whitbury Farm. And what Mrs. +Wanless felt most grateful of all for, was that these things were never +sent to her by servants, but were brought either by Mrs. Robson herself, +or by one of her daughters. The farmer's wife did not try to make Mrs. +Wanless feel that she was a miserable dependent upon her bounty. She had +not in that respect, as yet, acquired English manners. In the Lowlands +of Scotland, I am told, there is no abject class like the English +agricultural labourer, and these hard Scotch farmer folks had still to +learn that their hinds were not human beings of like passions and +feelings with themselves. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +TELLS OF A BETTER QUEST THAN THAT OF THE HOLY GRAIL. + + +Thomas Wanless set out for London, within a week after his daughter's +disappearance, on a dull, cold, January morning. His farewells were +cheerful, but his heart was downcast enough, and the further the slow, +crawling train took him from home the heavier his heart became. It was +dark long before he reached Paddington, to be there turned out upon the +murky bewilderment of London streets, knowing not where to turn his +footsteps. + +Mechanically he followed the string of people and cabs flowing out of +the station into Praed Street, the lamps of which showed faintly through +damp, smoke-charged air. Then he paused irresolute. A sense of +loneliness and hopelessness stole over him, intensified probably by +hunger, for he had eaten nothing save a crust of bread and cheese since +early morning. He was as one lost, as helpless in the crush of whirling +humanity as a wind-driven clot of foam on a storm-tossed sea. Amid all +this hurry and bustle of human life, where could he go? how find +lodgings? Fairly overwhelmed by the sense of desolation, he leant +against a wall to try and collect his thoughts, and mentally prayed for +courage and guidance. + +For some minutes he stood thus self-absorbed, when a rather kindly +voice, speaking almost in his ear, roused him with a + +"Good evening, mate. Be you a stranger?" + +"Yes," Thomas answered, looking up. "Yes, I came up from Warwick to-day, +and never was in London before." + +"Be ye in want o' work then, or not?" the voice demanded. + +"Why, yes, if I can get work I'll be glad of it; but it wasn't that +exactly as brought me here. You see----." But Thomas checked himself, +and turned a scrutinising gaze on his interlocutor. He saw a rather +grimy, ill-clad, thick-set man, whose face seemed as kindly as his +voice, though its expression was barely discernible, except by the eyes, +which shone brightly in the dull, yellow light of the neighbouring lamp. +By the sack-like covering which the man wore on his back, and by his +be-smudged appearance generally, Thomas judged that he must be a +labourer among coals. He was poor at any rate, and he looked kindly; so +after a brief inspection, to which the stranger submitted in silence, +and as a matter of course, Thomas resumed-- + +"You see, I'm come up to look for a lass of mine as has runned away." + +"Ah!" ejaculated the stranger. "Ah!" and then he stopt with his mouth +open, as if embarrassed by this sudden confidence. But he soon recovered +himself, and after relieving his feelings with a "Well, I never! Who'd a +thowt it?" came back to practical business, by asking Thomas if he knew +of a bed anywhere. + +Thomas said "No." + +"Well, then," answered the man, "you just come along with me. You ain't +likely to find the gal to-night, and you can't stand there till mornin'! +Perhaps my missus can give you a shake-down in the corner somewhere." + +Thomas was only too glad to accept the stranger's offer, and, hoisting +his bundle of clothes over his shoulder, with his stick through the +knot, he at once assented, and followed wheresoever the other led. They +trudged along for a good half-hour, mostly in silence, for Thomas was in +no mood for talking, and his companion appeared to have no gifts in that +direction. At length they reached the door of a dingy, tumble-down house +in that now happily abolished slum, Agar Town, and into this the +coal-heaver turned, saying-- + +"Mind the steps, friend. The stairs is rather out of repair." In this +rickety, filthy, old tenement the coal-heaver rented two rooms on the +third floor. He had a wife and three poor sallow-looking children, who +were frightened when they saw a strange man enter with their father. The +man introduced his wife as Mrs. Godbehere, and said his own name was +William. They invited Thomas, who in turn had given his name, to share +their supper, and he contributed to the feast the remainder of his bread +and cheese. Consulted about a bed, Mrs. Godbehere declared that it was +impossible for her to give Thomas one, and he agreed with her. She knew, +however, a neighbour who had a lodging to let; 2s. 6d. a-week she +charged for a small room with a bed in it--the lodger to find and cook +his own food. In this room Thomas was ultimately installed, and right +thankful he was to find a roof above his head in that appalling city. +The walk along Marylebone and Euston Roads had impressed him more +profoundly than ever with a sense of the vastness of London. It was like +a first lesson in the meaning of infinity, and it struck him with a +feeling of dread. Oft times did he ask himself that night whether he was +not, indeed, mad in attempting to trace Sarah in such a sea of human +beings. But mad or not, he resolved that his task should not be lightly +abandoned. + +Thus occupied he passed a restless night, and got up weary next morning. +His bed, he found to his cost, was not over clean, and it was with a +depressing sense of comfortlessness that he went to seek the Godbeheres. +The coal-heaver had already gone to his work, but Mrs. Godbehere +directed him to an eating-house near by, where he went and had some +breakfast. Refreshed a little, he forthwith started on his quest. He +would wander the myriad streets of London till he found his lost one, he +had said to himself. + +And day after day, night after night, he did wander hither and thither +through the most frequented thoroughfares of London, returning late and +worn-out to his miserable lodging. A growing hopelessness lay at his +heart, and made him sometimes almost unable to drag his limbs past each +other, but he held on with a dogged persistence that was almost sullen. +Through Godbehere's friendliness, and the pressure of his own heart +agony, he had scraped acquaintance with sundry policemen, but they could +give him no effective help. One would suggest that he ought to keep a +close watch about the Strand, another mentioned Oxford Street and the +Circus, or the Haymarket. All agreed, in their callous sort of way, that +"if she had followed a man to London, she was a'most sure to find her +way to the streets before long." Thomas did not doubt it. He knew the +pride of his daughter too well to doubt it. Rather than bear among her +kindred the brand which her unfallen sisterhood would put upon her, she +would face a life of open shame, where none could cast stones at her. So +Thomas held on his way, but never got a glimpse of his lost one. His +means were nearly exhausted, for, pinch as he might, it costs money to +live in London. Yet he would not surrender. No, he would work. But how +could he get work--he, a mere street loafer, and as lonely in London as +if it had been a desert. London with its hurrying crowds, its rush of +vehicles, its roar and bustle, and flowing lights, fairly broke down his +imagination. He felt himself a helpless atom amid a mass of atoms that +knew nothing of his misery, and grew too weak-hearted almost to seek for +work. But for his quest, he felt--sometimes even said to himself--that +he could lie down in the gutter and die. Possibly his wretched lodging +and the sleepless nights he had passed in his pain had much to do with +this utter collapse of mind. I cannot decide, but he has told me that +never till that time did he realise the sustaining power of a fixed +idea. "I came to find Sally," he said, "and I held to that." For that he +braved not only hunger and cold, but the horrors of the night in the +most abandoned thoroughfares of London. For that he mingled in the +crowds of educated and other roughs that frequented theatre doors, and +the doors of the coffee-houses and prostitute dens in the Haymarket and +Gardens. For that he endured cursing and foul language inconceivable, +stood to see men and women hurrying themselves into worse than a fiend's +condition by their self-indulgence and sin. Into low dancing rooms he +penetrated, often to be bundled out neck and crop as a spy, or at best +to be horrified by filthy jokes or still more filthy exhibitions of +obscenity. That very Agar Town, in which he lived, he again and again +explored, facing its stenches and miseries, its wantonness and riot, and +worst of all, its terrible crowds of weary, sin-rotting, broken-hearted, +down-beaten, and unfortunate humanity. Often did he see women there +peering out of their dingy, rag-stuffed windows, that bore traces of +having once been as fair as rash Sally. Nay, the very rag-pickers who +lodged in its garrets, Godbehere assured him, had many of them once been +"flaunting women of the town." Women of the town, indeed, and was not +the town doomed? Thomas thought that it was. To him London was already +hell. The fumes of abominations choked his mental senses, and made him +long to escape. + +Nevertheless, his mind was fixed. He could not go without his child, and +in order to carry out his purpose he must work. By the friendly help of +Godbehere he ultimately obtained employment in the coal yard at +Paddington-wages 2s. 6d. per day. He felt rich and strong for his task +henceforth, and as soon as he could he removed to a rather better +lodging near his work. At a waste, as he considered it, of several +evenings' lodging-seeking, he found a small clean room in the +neighbourhood of Lindengrove, for which, including a plain breakfast, he +paid 5s. 6d. a-week. His landlady was an elderly widow who kept three +lodgers, and she rather demurred to Thomas's demand for a latch-key, so +that he might go in and out at nights as he pleased, but his sad, +earnest face, and his remark that he was looking for a lost daughter, +conquered her fears. Thomas had his key, and felt a kind of thankfulness +that if he did find Sally he could now bring her to a better refuge than +the vermin-filled hole in Agar Town. + +Five weeks had well-nigh passed, and Thomas was no nearer his object, to +all appearance, than the day he arrived in London. But now that he had +work he felt more assured of his purpose, and therefore less sad. So he +sent home cheery letters to his wife, bidding her hope yet for Sally, +telling her he felt that God would not forsake her or them. All his +letters his wife got read to her by the schoolmaster, and then passed +them on to Jane. Money he would have sent, but could not. All that was +left after paying his food and the clothes he needed for his work he +spent in his quest. For work did not cause him to abate his vigilance, +nor did it much reduce his wanderings. As soon as the yard closed he +hurried home, changed his clothes, swallowed a cup of tea, and, +sometimes on foot, sometimes on the top of an omnibus, he made his way +to the usual haunts of vice. There he would wander, haunting theatre +doors, peering into refreshment bars, and sometimes spending sixpence +to get inside a low music hall. The sights he saw froze his very heart's +blood with horror, and he often asked himself--Is all this vice, then, +the product of our civilisation? Where is the Christianity in the habits +of a people who permit tens of thousands of their fellow beings to rot +and perish as a matter of course, and prate about the social evil in +their sleek respectable way as if it was a dispensation of heaven? How +many of these poor girls, whose lives had been blasted, who now brazenly +mocked "society," and laid snares for the destruction of its darlings, +had mothers, perhaps, even now weeping for them in secret? As he thought +of these things he felt as if he could wander, like Jonah, through the +streets, preaching the doom of this city of Sodom, whose streets already +savoured of the bottomless pit. + +Thoughts of this kind were brought home to him with terrible force one +night that he saw Adelaide Codling. He was standing watching the +play-goers leaving Drury Lane, when his eye suddenly caught the face of +that girl amid a group of women and "swells," amongst the latter of whom +was Captain Wiseman. She was showily dressed, and had a profusion of +glaring jewellery scattered about her person, and she was talking fast, +and laughing in a loud, defiant sort of way. But Wanless could see that +she was not happy. As she drew near where he stood he could mark the +restlessness of her eye, and the nervous boldness of her manner, and he +pitied her. Is this what she has come to already? he thought to himself, +and involuntarily shivered. Ah! if his own sweet lass was now like this, +could he reclaim her? Would it not be too late? Adelaide Codling passed +on, unconscious of the presence of her fellow-villager, saw not the +pleading look that crossed his face, the eager step forward he took as +if to speak with her. She entered a cab with Wiseman and two others, and +disappeared from sight. + +The eagerness of Thomas to find his lost one was intensified after that +night. Hardly a night-watchman in all the district escaped his +importunities, and from most of them the old man met with a rough +kindness that soothed him even in his absorbing grief. One old sergeant +he met in the Strand, and who had more than once listened to his +descriptions and his queries, advised him to alter his beat. "There are +a great many haunts of streetwalkers," he said, "besides the Strand and +the Haymarket. Why not try the south side of the river, or up Islington +way? There is the East-end, too, and Oxford Street and Holborn. Yes, +none knew where a girl may get to, once she cuts adrift in London. Such +heaps of them takes to the streets nowadays, that you can find some in +every thoroughfare in London." + +Wanless felt the observation true, alas! too true, but what could he do? +His means would not allow him to search the whole city. He took a wider +range, however, going by turns to one part of the town, now another, +sometimes as far as the Angel and Upper Street, Islington, sometimes +south to the Elephant and Castle, and the vice haunts of Walworth and +the Borough. Occasionally, too, he searched the bridges across the +river, but always with a sort of dread that his doing so was a +confession that he believed his girl capable of drowning herself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +HAS IN IT, ALAS! NOTHING THAT IS NEW. + + +The winter was moving away thus, and Thomas Wanless was rapidly losing +his vigour. Hard work and constant vigils, coupled with a sore heart, +and a weak appetite, pulled the man down, and by February he had to +confess that the long walks were too much for his strength. Mercifully, +the weather often made it impossible for him to go out at night, and +when it did clear up, he contented himself with going somewhere to watch +the stream of people passing by. "I will wait," he said to himself, "for +my darling to come to me." He could not even stand very long, but +usually sought the rest of a friendly doorstep, and at times a recess on +a bridge, watching, with tender wistfulness, the stream of life hurrying +on around him. Strange to say, he had more than once seen Adelaide +Codling since that night at the theatre, and somehow that always gave +him hope. Her face seemed to say to him, "Your daughter cannot be far +away." + +Often the "unfortunates" came and talked to him, not rudely in their +wantonness--alas! poor, forsaken waifs--forsaken by all save God--but +soberly, as if moved to speak to this still, sad-eyed, grey-faced old +man, who looked out on the world so keenly, and withal, with such +tenderness in his look. They would tell him fragments of their +stories--sad enough all, and wonderfully alike--tales of seduction, and +heartless desertion, varied only by the degree of turpitude usually +exhibited in the man. At one time it would be the tale of a light-headed +girl, seduced by her master--a married man--who huddled her out of +sight, to hide his shame. Many came from garrison towns, the seduced of +the officers there; quiet country parsonages gave their quota of girls +educated to feel, and therefore hurrying the faster to their doom, when +once cut off from their families by the devices of their betrayers. One +woman excited Thomas's pity deeply. Though wasted and fast dying, she +still had traces of great beauty when he first met her, leaning wearily +on the parapet of Waterloo Bridge, looking out on the water below. She +flashed defiance--the defiance of a hunted being--at him when he first +spoke to her, but he soon won her heart, and got her story. A fair +blonde, oval-faced English girl, she had been comely to look upon, and +was wholesome at the heart even yet, for all her misery. She was the +victim of a parson, now high in the counsels of the church. The villain +was but a curate when he seduced her--the only child of her mother, and +she a widow. He promised to marry her, of course, and wiled his way to +her heart. Then when he had got all he wanted, and found that she was +with child, he cast her off, daring her to lay the babe to his +paternity, and spreading a story to the effect that he had found other +lovers at her heels. Broken hearted, she buried her head and obeyed, but +the shame killed her mother. "I could not die," the daughter said to +Wanless; "I have often tried to kill myself, but fear keeps me back now, +after all that's past, and it kept me back then. My child died, thank +Heaven! I was alone in the world. I drifted to London seeking work, and +found it hard to get. When I offered myself for a servant's place, +people said I was too well educated, and suspected that something must +be wrong. I could have taught in a school, perhaps, but had no one to +recommend me. I was hungry; I hated mankind, and cursed them. I said I +would betray and destroy men for revenge! and the way was easy! oh, so +easy. It has led me here; and now if I could but jump over and be done +with it all!" + +Involuntarily Thomas put forth his hand to hold her back; but he needed +not to do so. The poor woman sank fainting at his feet. He tried to +rouse her, but could not; and finally put her in a cab and took her to +the hospital. Within a week she died there of brain fever. The doctors +said her strength had been too much reduced by privation before the +disease seized her for her to be able to survive it. And she was only +one among tens of thousands all pressed down the same loathsome course +by our "Christian civilisation." Nay, forgive the epithet, there is +nothing Christian about it. It is only the civilisation of a priest-born +respectableness. The droning hypocrites that we are! + +At times Wanless stood by the doors of low music halls and of theatres, +but the door-keepers usually ordered him off. He looked too like a +detective for their taste. Then he would watch the doors of +confectioners' shops, too--those shops which cloak brothels of the +vilest type--staring there in the face of day, unheeded by the +authorities, who must wink at some kind of outlet for the suppressed +brutal passions of polished society. More than once Adelaide Codling had +crossed his path at such times, and still in the company of Wiseman; but +each succeeding time he saw her, Wanless thought the boldness of her +manner had an increased dash of despair in it. The fate that she had +come after was eating into even her light, giddy heart. The last time he +spied her was one night when he stood close by the door of a cafe near +Regent Street. The light fell full on her face as the Captain and she +passed in from their cab, and her face was painted. Already, then, the +bloom of youth has vanished, Thomas thought. Her hard but not unmusical +laugh had given place to a grating cackle, and a leer of affected gaiety +had replaced the merry eye. Poor, erring wanderer, and had a few months +brought you to this? Already was the shadow of society's ruthless +judgment upon you; could you even now see the blight of your life, the +dreary street, the hard world's scorn, the early grave? Ah! yes, and who +shall describe the devouring agony that gnawed at that girl's heart? Did +she not see day by day the ebbing away of Wiseman's love? Love? God +forgive me for defiling that sacred word. It was only his brutish +passion that was dying. He was becoming tired of this toy his handling +had smudged, and she saw it all--prepared herself for the hour when he +would turn his back upon her and go to hunt down other prey. And only +six months ago! Ah, parson, parson, has the iron not entered your soul? +What is this that your Christian civilisation has done to your daughter? +Has it made you ashamed even to look for her? Poor, hide-bound, +"respectable" sinner that you are, you shall behold her again, though +you sought her not--though her mother bade you close your heart and home +against her for ever, because she had with that mother's help allowed +herself to be betrayed. + +One cold March night Thomas Wanless had strayed on to Waterloo Bridge in +his coal-begrimed dress. Something, he could not have said what, had +impelled him to go there that night. He had taken a hasty supper at a +coffee-house near the coal yard to save time. He felt he was +"superstitious," yet he went, whispering to his heart "who knows but I +may see my child to-night," and trying to be cheerful. + +Paying the toll at the north side, he wandered backwards and forwards +till the chill from the river began to enter his bones. The one he +looked for came not to him--still he could not drag himself away. He sat +down in a recess and cowered below the parapet for shelter, waiting for +he knew not what. It might have been ten o'clock. He had sat quite an +hour, and was nearly going to sleep with weariness, inaction, and cold, +when a rustle of a woman's dress near him spurred his faculties into +active watchfulness. Peering into the darkness, made visible by the +feeble shimmer of the lamp on the parapet, he discovered a woman +approach him, crouching down in the recess on the other side of the +bridge, weeping bitterly, though almost in silence. Raising himself on +his elbow, he was about to speak to her when she started up with a wild +despairing gesture, and, jumping on the seat, flung away her shawl. + +"Yes," he heard her say to herself, with a wailing resoluteness, "I'll +do it; I'll die," and with one look of farewell to the world, where no +hope was left for her, a look of despair and horror that gleamed through +the darkness, she clutched the parapet and drew herself on to it. + +It was all the work of a moment, a flash of time, but Wanless had sprung +to his feet at the sound of her voice, and was half across the bridge by +the time the woman got upon the parapet. Then he saw her last look, and +the gleam of a neighbouring lamp revealed her features. She was Adelaide +Codling, and the recognition so startled Wanless that he staggered and +for a moment stopped short. In that moment she was lost. Even as the cry +burst from his lips, "Adelaide Codling, Adelaide, Adelaide," she threw +herself over, as if the sight of a man approaching her had given the +last spur to her despair. He reached the parapet but in time to hear the +dull splash of her body in the dark tide rolling beneath. As she felt +the water close round her, a cry--weird, unearthly, terrible,--broke +from the girl's lips, and then all was silent, till the waves threw her +up again on the other side of the bridge, when a hollow, dying wail +wandered over the river--the last farewell of this poor waif of +humanity, sacrificed to the pleasures of the scoundrels who "bear rule" +among us, and call themselves refined. + +Wanless was already at the toll-house, panting and hardly able to speak. +But his look was enough, and presently there arose a shouting to +lightermen and bargemen. Boats were put off by those who had heard the +splash and the cry. A crowd gathered to see. In little more than a +quarter of an hour a shout rose from the water far down towards +Blackfriars, for the tide was running out, and the girl had gone rapidly +down stream. "Saved! saved!" was the cry, and they had, indeed, found +the body of Adelaide Codling. She herself had gone. The cold had killed +her rather than the length of time she had been in the water--the cold +and the shock. + +Thomas waited to hear the result of the doctor's efforts at the police +office, and then saw the body deposited in a neighbouring deadhouse. No +clue to her identification was found upon the body, the poor girl had +taken care of that, more mindful of her friends in death than they of +her living. But Thomas felt bound to tell the police sergeant what he +knew. He gave his own address and that of the Rev. Josiah Codling, but +could not tell where the girl lived, or what had been the immediate +cause of her suicide. The police, seeing that the upper classes were in +question, decided to keep names quiet for the present--but communicated +with the girl's father, and arranged that the inquest should be delayed +for two days to permit him to attend. Thomas himself was told that he +would be summoned as a witness, and then went his way. + +He hardly knew how he got home to his lodgings that night. + +The inquest on the body of Adelaide Codling was held in the upper room +of a low-class public house in Upper Thames Street. Thomas Wanless +obtained liberty to absent himself from work that day, at his own +charges, of course, and punctually at three in the afternoon--the +appointed hour--he entered the parlour of the inn. He was carefully +dressed in the now threadbare and shiny suit of black, which had been +his Sunday costume for many years. + +A small knot of men had gathered in the room, and a desultory kind of +chat was going on when Thomas entered. Two or three were grumbling at +the nuisance of these "coroner's 'quests," which took men away from +their business, the majority were "having something to drink," and all +were utterly indifferent to the business that had brought them there. + +Presently the coroner bustled into the room with his clerk. The latter +hurriedly called over some names, which were answered, and then produced +a greasy-looking volume in leather which he called "the book." This +talisman he put into the hands of the man nearest him, to whom he +mumbled some cabalistic words, at the end of which the book was passed +along and kissed in a foolish sort of way by the chosen twelve. Having +in this manner "constituted the jury," proceedings commenced with a +procession to "view the body," led by the coroner. It lay in a rough +wooden shell coffin, in a dark hole attached to an old city church, and +used as a mortuary. Wanless followed the little crowd in a stunned sort +of way. To his simple, rustic mind it was a dreadful thing that men +should be able to go so carelessly about such a solemn duty. At the +mortuary he was surprised to see the Vicar. The old man stood by his +child's head, gazing at it in a helpless, dazed way, as if hardly +conscious of what it all meant. No emotion was visible on his face, no +tears broke from his eyes when a policeman, softened by the sight, led +him gently away to the inn parlour out of the way of coroner and jury. + +The "viewing" over, the Court returned to the inn to take evidence. Of +that there was very little, beyond the personal testimony of the police, +until Thomas Wanless was called. When his name was mentioned, Thomas saw +the old Vicar start, and for the first time look up with something like +intelligence in his glance, then a scared, shrinking sort of expression +stole across his features, as if he had suddenly thought of home and +cruel village tongues. But he listened quietly to all the old labourer +had to say. It was not much, for a proper-minded coroner would not have +suffered "family secrets" to be too freely exposed, nor had Wanless +himself any desire to tell more than was absolutely needful. + +"I saw the deceased," he said, "climb upon the parapet of Waterloo +Bridge opposite where I sat, and I ran towards her, but before I could +reach her she had gone over. As she prepared to spring she gave one last +look behind her, and I knew her to be our Vicar's daughter. I called her +by name, but it was too late." + +The sad cadence of Thomas's voice, and his obvious superiority of mien, +did not prevent one of the jury from asking him in a brutal tone-- + +"And what were _you_ doing there, my man?" + +"I was looking for my own child," answered the old labourer. "At first +I thought I had found her, till I saw the face." + +"Ah!" ejaculated the coroner. "Had you then----?" but his better impulse +stopped him, and he did not finish the question. Thomas, however, +understood it, and replied at once, almost under his breath-- + +"Yes, your Honour, I have lost a daughter, and Captain Wiseman, the same +ruffian destroyed her that enticed away the Vicar's poor lass now lying +yonder." + +His words sent a shudder through the room, and Thomas was vexed he had +spoken them ere they were well out of his mouth, for they seemed to goad +the Vicar into a state of active terror which gave him energetic +utterance. The more vulgar of the jury pricked up their ears at the +sound of scandal, and one of them said--"Can you give us a clue then as +to how this poor girl came to drown herself?" + +"Oh, for God's sake don't," the Vicar interposed, starting to his feet, +and stretching forth his hand beseechingly towards the labourer; "for +God's sake don't expose it, Wanless." Then he collapsed again, and began +to weep violently, so that Wanless felt sorry for him, and was relieved +when the loud voice of the coroner was heard again ruling that "it was +quite unnecessary to rake up disagreeables." He saw the "aristocracy in +the business," in short, and it pleased him to be strict. Thomas, +therefore, was asked a number of venture questions, whether he knew +where the deceased lived, or whether he was aware of her circumstances, +&c., questions to which he had mostly to answer "No." His examination +was, therefore, soon ended, and the coroner was beginning to tell the +jury that it was a common case, requiring the usual verdict, "Suicide +while in a state," merely, when, to everybody's surprise, the Vicar +intimated that he had a statement to make. + +He rose, trembling visibly, and looked round with a vacant eye till he +caught sight of Wanless, who had fallen back, and was standing near the +door. Then his look changed, and, with something like energy, he +exclaimed--"I wish to ask you, gentlemen, not to believe what that man +says. He has a spite against my family, and against the family at----" +Here he stopped suddenly, afraid to mention the name of his child's +destroyer, and the solemn voice of the peasant was heard saying--"God +forgive you, Josiah Codling," softly, as if to himself. But the Vicar +heard, and his trembling increased so much that when a blunt juryman +interposed with--"How do you account for your daughter's suicide then?" +he could only stammer a feeble--"I'm sure I cannot say." + +"But surely you knew her whereabouts--what she was doing?" + +"N-n-no, I cannot say I did quite. My wife--that is her mother--told me +that she was visiting an aunt in Kent, and I believed it was so." + +"But were there no letters, then? Didn't your daughter write to you at +times?" persisted the juryman, though the coroner began to fidget and +look black. + +"Letters!" repeated the Vicar, as if struck with a new idea; "no, I +believe not. Yes, I think she did write to her mother--to my wife that +is to say. At least I saw the envelope of one letter. I picked it out +of the coal scuttle in the breakfast room, but Adelaide--that is my +daughter--did not write to me--not that I recollect." + +"Humph! I see, 'grey mare the better horse,'" muttered the juryman--a +bluff, not unkindly-looking man, and then there fell a moment of deep +silence on the Court. The Vicar stood, bearing himself up with his hands +on the table before him, and seemed to have more to say. But when after +a brief pause, the impatient Coroner ejaculated--"Well, sir! have you +done?" the Vicar answered--"Y-yes, I think so. I only wished you not to +judge my child hastily," and sat down. + +A few moments more and the jury had given their verdict--"the usual one" +as the coroner described it--a verdict permitting the corpse to have +Christian burial, and all was over. The majority of the jury adjourned +to the bar to refresh themselves, and interchange opinions on, what one +of them called, "this jolly queer case." The bar-keeper himself joined +in the conversation, and Wanless heard him enlarging upon the +corruptions of the "Hupper classes," as he followed the Vicar down +stairs. But there was no danger that comments of this kind would get +into the newspapers. A paragraph about the suicide did, indeed, appear +in several morning journals, but there was no mention of the seducer's +name. Such a thing as an adjournment to obtain Wiseman's evidence was +not even hinted. The coroner, jury, press, and all might have been +bought up by the Wiseman family, so discreet was the silence--and, +perhaps, some of them were. The press, at all events, was well gagged by +an infamous law of libel; and as there had been no sensational or +melodramatic incidents connected with the girl's end, it was easy to +bury all the story in oblivion--for _time_. The "gallant" Captain might +roll serenely on his way. Nothing could disturb him here except disease +and the moral leprosy bred of his crimes. "After death comes the +judgment." + +When the little gathering had dispersed, the Vicar and Thomas Wanless +found themselves alone together. Both had waited to let the unfamiliar +faces disappear. Neither had thought at the moment that this shyness +would bring them face to face. The peasant was the first to realise the +situation, and as he looked at the broken-down old man before him, he +was stirred with pity. On the impulse of the moment he went to where +Codling stood, and laying his hand on his arm, said-- + +"Can I be of any use to you, sir?" + +The Vicar started and turned hastily away, shaking Thomas's hand from +his arm, at the same time answering--"No, no, Thomas Wanless, I have +nothing to say to you. You have done me enough mischief for one day!" + +"I have done you no mischief, sir. God forbid that I should harm you. +Had it been possible I would have saved you this pain,--I would have +rescued your daughter." + +"Rescued my daughter, would you?" and Codling laughed a low, bitter +laugh. "Rescued my daughter! Why cannot you look after your own, Thomas +Wanless? I do not want your help." + +"I watch for my child night and day," said the peasant solemnly. "It was +in seeking her that I met yours--too late. There is ever a prayer in my +heart that when I find my Sally I may not be too late for her also. Ah! +poor Sally!" he sighed, and the Vicar, taking no more notice of him, he +presently added--"Come out of this place, sir. It is not wise for you to +stop here when there is so much yet to be done." + +The Vicar took Wanless's words as insinuating that he wanted to drink, +which was far enough from what Thomas intended. But the guilty are ever +prone to think themselves in danger, and it was with more heat and +energy of manner than he had yet shown that the Vicar turned and faced +his fellow-villager. + +"Go away, you loafing, good-for-nothing fellow," he almost shouted, +"surely you have gratified your revenge sufficiently for one day, +without standing there to mock at my sorrow, as you have already done +your best to make my name a by-word." With that he moved towards the +door. But Thomas stood dumbfounded between him and it, and the Vicar, +too impatient now to wait for the peasant's slow motions, actually gave +him a shove on one side, and hurried outside, muttering to himself as he +went. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +POINTS ONCE MORE TO THE MORAL OF THE POET'S SAYING,--"SWEET ARE THE USES +OF ADVERSITY." + + +When Wanless crept out a minute or two later, still feeling heart-sore +at the Vicar's treatment, he caught sight of that poor wretch through +the adjoining door of the private bar, which opened to let some one out +as he passed by. Codling was standing, and with trembling hand stirring +a large tumbler of hot brandy and water. + +Wanless stopped involuntarily, and then turning back to the bar he had +just left, asked for a glass of ale. It would give him a pretext for +waiting to see what became of the poor parson. In a very short time he +heard Codling's voice beyond the partition ordering another double +glass, and the sound shocked him so much that he put down his glass of +ale half consumed, and, acting on the impulse of the moment, burst in +upon the Vicar through the swing door of the compartment, crying, as he +did so-- + +"For God's sake, don't, Mr. Codling. Leave that, and come away with me. +It's a shame to see a minister of the Gospel drowning his grief in +liquor. Come away at once." And he again laid hold of Codling's arm. + +The drink he had already swallowed had raised the Vicar's courage, and +he turned on Wanless with a look of scornful bitterness that boded a +storm. But Wanless was also wrought to a high pitch, and there was a +commanding sternness in his eye that served to cow the drunkard, whose +wrath seemed to die within him. He looked hesitatingly around, and at +sight of some bystanders grinning, a flush of shame spread over his +face. + +"For shame, I say," Wanless continued in a low tone, paying as little +heed to the angry looks as he had done to the former taunts. "Will you +stand here besotting yourself, and allow your child to be flung into a +pauper's grave?" + +"What business is that of yours?" the Vicar replied sullenly, but in a +low voice. "Mind your own paupers, and let me and my affairs alone." + +"That I will not--cannot do--Mr. Codling," Wanless answered. "Consider, +sir, she was your child. You fondled her on your knee but the other day, +and were proud to hear her lisp the name of father. Come away, sir, for +God's sake, the body may be gone if we waste more time here;" and giving +the Vicar no further chance to remonstrate, Thomas seized his arm, and +dragged him out of the place away to the deadhouse. + +They were indeed barely in time. Some men were about to nail up the +remains of Adelaide in the rough shell where it lay, whether preparatory +to burial, or in order to convey it to some hospital dissecting room, I +would not venture to say. At any rate, a small bribe made them desist, +and one of them even directed the Vicar to find an undertaker if he +wished to give his child Christian burial in other than a pauper's +trench. + +The sight of his daughter's body, when the lid of the case was removed, +and the Vicar saw it again, moved him more than it had done at first. +The men withdrew, and Thomas and he were left alone with it. Adelaide's +features had settled down to the calm stillness of death, and wore a +faint semblance of a smile. Sweet and pure she looked, in spite of the +soiled garments and tangled hair; but the figure indicated only too +clearly what had sent her to a watery grave. She had been about to +become a mother. + +As he looked old memories rose in the Vicar's imagination, and tears +gathered in his dull, sodden eyes. He stooped tremulously and kissed the +cold brow. "Poor Addy, poor Addy," he murmured, "to think that you +should have come to this," and he sobbed outright--weeping like a child. +Like a child too, when the passion was over, he surrendered himself to +the guidance of Wanless, without further resistance, who hurried him off +to the undertaker. He would like, he said, to have _her_ buried that +evening; but that the people said they could not manage; so it was at +last arranged to take her to Highgate Cemetery next morning. Thomas had +then to find a place where the Vicar could pass the night, for the old +man had intended to go home that evening, and ultimately he deposited +him at the Tavistock Hotel. + +"Will you have something to drink before you go?" said the Vicar, when +he had arranged for his bedroom, evidently wanting a pretext for +drinking himself, but Thomas said "No," and went away to eat a frugal +supper in a humble coffee-shop in Drury Lane. + +They buried Adelaide next morning, Thomas again, though with difficulty, +obtaining leave of absence. As soon as he saw Codling, Thomas knew that +he had been drinking hard the previous night. The poor man's hands shook +as with the palsy, his step was unsteady, his eye dull and bloodshot. A +low fever seemed to consume him; yet he obviously felt keenly that +morning the errand he and the labourer were upon, and though he hardly +spoke a word all the way to the grave, he no longer looked at his +companion with sullen anger. Rather he seemed to cling to Thomas as a +woman clings to her natural protector. And when the earth fell on the +coffin lid as the last words of the solemn burial service of the Church +of England were uttered--solemn even when gabbled over by the unhappy +creatures who have to repeat it every day, and all day long--he broke +down again, sobbing and weeping like a child. They waited till the last +sod had been placed over the lost Adelaide, and ere he went away the +Vicar knelt on the damp earth, praying and weeping bitterly. Then he +rose and stretched out his hand to Wanless, whose cheeks were also wet +with tears, as if seeking one to lead him. Thomas grasped it, and +pressed it, with "God bless and have mercy on you, sir, and on her as +lies here." + +"Ah! Thomas"--it was the first time the Vicar had called him kindly as +of old by his Christian name--"ah! Thomas, my friend, and may God bless +you for what you have done this day. But for you I would have deserted +my child in death, as I did in life. God forgive me for it." + +These words seemed to open his heart, so that he talked to Wanless, all +the way back to town, in an eager way, like one who had a confession to +make, and could taste no peace till it was done. A sad history enough it +was of domestic bitterness, of an enfeebled will, knowing what was +right, and doing it not. His impulse was to seek his daughter, just as +Thomas's had been, but Mrs. Codling would not hear of it. Her pride did +not even allow her to admit that the girl had gone away after her +betrayer. She talked of a visit to a relative at a distance, who was her +own step-sister, and of Adelaide herself being ill in Kent, poor +thing--not in any danger, but not strong enough to return yet--with many +lies of a like kind, which the Vicar was weak enough to endorse by his +silence. + +Wanless also spoke of his quest and his sorrow, and the Vicar listened +with sympathy; but when the peasant ventured to urge that it was his +duty to denounce, and expose the ravenous wolf, who had destroyed the +peace of so many families, Codling shook his head and answered--"No, no, +Thomas, I cannot; I dare not. It is too late." + +"Why too late, sir? Are you not a minister of Christ, and bound by the +office you hold to denounce the sinner and his sin?" + +The Vicar shuddered, and sat still for more than a minute without +answering. Then he bent forward and took Thomas's hand--they sat on +opposite sides of the cab. + +"Thomas," he said sadly, "you remember that day of the row in my garden, +between you and--and that fiend in human shape. You called me a poor +tippling creature that day, and it was true." + +"No, no, and I was very sorry," Wanless began-- + +"Yes, but it was," the Vicar interrupted, "I hated you for exposing me +thus; but I felt and knew it was true. I am not a drunkard, Thomas, as +the world measures drunkenness, but I tipple. I keep myself alive by +stimulants, and bury thus my hopes and aspirations of other days. And I +feel that I can do nothing. Who would listen to me or heed my words? Men +would say I spoke from spite, and perhaps some even might aver that I +was myself the cause of my daughter's ruin. Which also," he added, in a +reflective kind of way, "which also might be true. No, no, Thomas, I +must bear my burden. My--oh, my daughter, my child, my pet, when I think +of you and the past, I have no hope--I can do nothing but tipple." + +"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Wanless; but the Vicar relapsed into silence. +All the rest of the way to Paddington, to which he had ordered himself +to be driven, he lay back in the corner of the cab, silent, with his +eyes closed; but Thomas could see him ever and anon furtively wipe away +the tears from his cheeks. + +At Paddington, the two men, now friends again, after so many years of +divergent ways and worldly fortunes, bade each other a sad farewell. +Thomas went back to his coals, and the Vicar went home to his wife and +his gin and water. Yet he was not quite as he had been before. More +than he himself thought the death of his once loved child stirred the +human soul in him, and he was not able again to fall back into +sottishness. Though he bore his domestic woes silently, and still drank +to dull the gnawing at his heart, he became more tender towards the poor +among his flock, more attentive to their wants, more accessible, and +softer in manner towards all men. He even preached with sad pathos that +woke responsive sympathy in the hearts of his flock, though he did not +denounce the ravisher. + +But the best proof of all that he had changed much for the better, is +found in his conduct to Mrs. Wanless. The memory of the help and +sympathy he had received from the old, despised labourer in London, lay +warm in his heart, and found frequent expression in visits to the +labourer's wife while she was alone, or to both husband and wife, when +Wanless came back. The very day after he returned from London, he called +and told Mrs. Wanless that he had seen her husband, and that he was +well. He made no allusion to other matters, but he patted the head of +Sally's child, and sighed as he went away. Perhaps the kindly warmth +with which these simple people always greeted him, helped to soothe his +later years. In giving he received more than he gave. + +In the village the end of his daughter was never rightly known. Wiseman +naturally never breathed a word. Rarely was his face seen in Ashbrook, +and never in the church while the old Vicar lived. Mrs. Codling gave out +that the poor child had been suddenly cut off by fever, and went the +length of donning mourning, bemoaning the loss to her friends, braving +the scorn of all true hearts, and vainly imagining she was believed, But +the people guessed that Adelaide had not died so, and they suspected +that Wiseman was at the bottom of her disappearance, though the story of +her having committed suicide never got general credence in the +village--was only a faint rumour there. So all pitied the poor Vicar, +despised his uppish, false-hearted wife, and most hated the young +squire. Riches and high station cannot shut men out from the moral +results of their deeds, any more than they can ward off death. Nay, Mrs. +Codling herself, high as she held her head, well as she acted the part +of a sorrowing mother who had been heart-broken by the unexpected news +of her dear daughter's sudden death, so prostrated as to be unable to go +and see her laid in her grave--even Mrs. Codling felt in some sense that +this was true. She grew harder in her ways, and more and more haggard in +her looks, like one even at war with herself, and ever losing in the +fight--till within three years God took her, and she knew her folly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +OPENS TO THE INWARD EYE THE CHASTENED JOY THAT GLOWS, WHEN THE LOST ONE +IS FOUND, IN THE SOUL OF HIM "WHOSE GRIEF WAS CALM, WHOSE HOPE WAS +DEAD." + + +A great additional strain had been put upon the spirit of Thomas +Wanless, by the death of Adelaide Codling, and he was becoming too weak +in body to hold to his purpose. There were nights when he returned to +his lonely lodging wishing that he might die, so great was his physical +and mental exhaustion. At other times he felt an impulse strong upon him +to go home--to "abandon his search for a time," as his inward tempter +whispered. But his will was strong, if strength of body or hope might be +weak, and he only prayed the more and clung the more to his purpose, the +more he felt tempted to turn aside. "How could I face her mother again," +he would answer himself, "if I had not found her." + +In this conflict of mind, though not of purpose, another month rolled +by, and Thomas was threatened with want of work. Fewer men were required +in the coal yards as summer came on, and already several had been +discharged. It was a dreary prospect enough, but what made it more so to +Thomas, were the unbidden flashes of almost gladness that rose in his +breast now and then, as the voice of the tempter then said--"Thomas, you +will be forced to go home." He felt himself a traitor, and inexpressibly +wicked at such moments, and would clench his hand and mutter--"Not yet +anyhow, not yet," as he strode mechanically through the streets. + +At last he found her. "When hope was calm, and grief was dead" almost, +he lighted on his lost child unexpectedly, in a place where he would +never have dreamed of looking for her, had it not been for the friendly +advice of the police. + +All over London there are coffee-houses, tobacco-shops, and +confectioner-looking shops, whose real use is to be haunts of vice. +Thomas had learned to know this, and his eye was always upon such as he +wandered through the streets. Perchance he might see his Sally in one of +them some night. He was crawling rather than walking along one of the +dingy lanes behind Leicester Square one evening, about eleven o'clock, +when, through the open door of a low eating-house, he heard the voice of +a woman singing. His heart gave a leap within him. Surely that was +Sally's voice. She had been a great singer in her girlhood, and the song +he heard the notes of had once been a great favourite with her. What was +it, think you? None other than that sweet sentimental ditty, "Be kind to +the loved ones at home." Strange melody to be heard in such a place. + +The leap of hope in Thomas's heart was followed by a thrill of anguish +as he drew near to listen, more assured each moment that here, indeed, +he had found his daughter. And was she thinking of home then--here, at +the gate of hell. He would go and see. No one was in the outer shop, and +the door of the back room stood ajar, so that Thomas walked straight +through unchallenged. Pushing open the half-closed inner door, he paused +in amazement at the scene disclosed to him. There might have been a +score of people in that low-roofed, dingy, smoke-filled room--men and +women seated at small tables, and on one or two dilapidated benches +against the wall, some were busy eating, all had drink before them--ale, +spirits, and even wine--stuff labelled "champagne." Through the haze of +tobacco smoke, he saw several of the women with cigarettes in their +mouths. All had a reckless, more or less debauched air, and the women in +particular struck Thomas--a transitory flash though his glance was--as +wearing a look of defiance towards all that the world deemed propriety. +Men had women on their knees, or sat on the knees of women, and none +seemed to heed the song. One poor outcast woman lay huddled up on the +floor by the fire, too drunk to sit, but not too drunk to blaspheme. No +one heeded her either. + +All these things Thomas saw in the first moment of vision, but he hardly +noted them then. His thoughts and his eyes were for his lost child +alone. The song did not stop at his entrance, for the singer's face was +not towards the door. So the voice guided his eye and--yes, it was she. +There she sat in the middle of the room, nearer the fire than a youthful +debauchee who sat by her with his arm round her waist. Thomas gazed a +moment, and then his whole soul went out in a cry-- + +"Sally, Sally, oh my pet, my child, I've found you at last," and he +advanced towards her, holding out his hands. + +The song died instantly, but in its place rose a Babel of tongues. +Thomas's cry drew all eyes upon him. Involuntarily some of the less +hardened assumed airs of propriety, but the majority of the men started +in anger, and a few of the women began to laugh and jeer. + +"Damn your impudence, what do you want here?" shouted a copper-faced +little wretch, who had been lying half asleep in a woman's lap near the +door. + +"Get out of this," roared another, and as Thomas made no sign the abuse +grew general. The wits of the party cracked jokes over the "heavy father +doing the pathetic business," and so on, but amid the din the peasant +got close to the table, where his child sat. The instant his call +reached her ears, Sally turned a terror-struck gaze upon him, and then +buried her face in her hands. He could see she wept, for the sobs shook +her, but to his further entreaty to come away she made no response, and +he was trying to pull the table aside so as to reach her, when he was +roughly seized by the brothel keeper, who had rushed up from the kitchen +to see what the noise was about. With an oath he pulled Thomas back. + +"What the devil do you want here?" he screeched. "Clear out, or d--n +you, I'll give you in custody." The peasant's garb and appearance had +enabled the experienced scoundrel to guess at once what was up. + +Thomas turned sharp on his assailant, who was a fat, flabby-looking +wretch, whose face indicated a vicious career in every line and pimple. +At the moment it was lit up by an expression of elfish rage. But when +in his turn the peasant seized him with a grip of iron and flung him +away as if he had been a street cur barking at his heels, the man's face +grew nearly pale with an expression of mingled wrath and fear. The fear +kept him near the door, where he stood yelling for help, calling on +"Jim" to come and turn this intruder out, volleying oaths and +blasphemies, and finally beseeching the intruder not to ruin him, but +taking good care all the while not to summon the police. + +"Jim" came at last--the "waiter" or bully of the place. He was of +stronger build than his master, and at once grabbed Thomas by the +collar, purposing to turn him out. But Thomas was endowed with heroic +strength in that hour, and three such men would not have driven him from +the place. Wrenching himself round, he took his new assailant by the +throat, and dashed him back against his master with such force that they +both rolled over in the narrow doorway. This feat tickled the company +immensely, and they fell to clattering with pewter pots and glasses, and +to shouting in derision as encouragement. + +Probably Thomas in the end might have been badly beaten by the fiends +among whom he had fallen, but from that his daughter saved him. Roused, +perhaps, at the sight of the unholy hands laid upon her father, and +sickened by the foul jibes of men and women around her, she sprang to +her feet, and, pushing round the end of the table where she sat, rushed +between the combatants, and flung herself on her father's bosom, in a +passion of weeping. + +"Do not get yourself hurt for me," she sobbed, "go away and leave me. +I'm not worth caring for any more." + +Thomas answered by clasping her closer to his bosom, and then putting +his arm in hers, he led her from the house, none daring to say him nay. +Oaths, shrieks of hysterical laughter, and obscenities followed them as +they went, but the look on the peasant's face, and the remembrance of +his strength of arm, were enough to protect his daughter and him from +further ill-usage. + +"Thanks be to God I've found ye, my lass; found ye, never to let ye out +o' my sight again in this world," Thomas murmured when he found himself +alone in the street with his long-lost one, and there welled up in him a +holy joy which was unutterable. + +His daughter hung her head, and answered not, but she suffered him to +lead her to his lodging. A 'bus took them to the head of Portland Road, +and thence they walked. It was past midnight before they got home, and +all the house was silent; but Thomas gave his daughter his bedroom, and +groped his way to the parlour, where he hoped to get a sleep in an easy +chair--first prudently turning the key in Sarah's door, to give her no +room for untimely repentance. + +There was no sleep for his eyelids that night. The cold alone might have +kept him awake in any case; but he was too excited to feel it as other +than a stimulus to his thoughts. Past and future rolled before him--his +daughter lost, joy at her discovery, pain at the life she had led. The +grey dawn found him fevered with his thoughts, shivering in body, +burning at the heart. Nevertheless, he had resolved to go home that day +by the early train; and with that view he roused the landlady to beg an +early breakfast for himself and his child. "I have found my lass," was +all he ventured to explain, and the woman answered she was glad to hear +it. In his eagerness to go home he forgot to tell the coal agent for +whom he worked, and forgot also to draw four days' wages due to him--did +not remember till the day after he and his daughter reached Ashbrook. + +When Sarah, in answer to her father's summons, came down to breakfast in +the front kitchen, it was easy to see that she also had slept little. +Her eyes were swollen and red, and she could not eat anything. A cup of +hot tea she swallowed, and that was all. Her father spoke to her in the +old familiar Warwickshire dialect, and urged her to "eat summat, as she +had a long day's journey afoore her," but Sally could not, and to all he +spoke answered only in monosyllables. Not until he began to talk +directly of going "home" did she wake to anything like animation. The +very sound of the word made her weep, and her father led her away to his +own room to reason with her. + +"Oh, don't ask me to go back," she cried; "I cannot, I cannot; I'm fit +only to die." + +But her father soothed her, talked to her of her lonely mother watching +for her coming, praying to see her child's face again before she died; +and when that did not move her, he bade her think of her little babe she +had left last year. "How could ye like her to grow up a-lookin' for a +mother, Sally, lass, an' not findin' one?" That seemed to touch her +more than all his assurances that no one would ever reproach her or cry +shame upon her in her own father's house. Still she yielded not, but +cried out that she was lost to them all, to every good in this world. +"You might not blame me openly," she said, "but I would have the feelin' +in my heart all the time that I was a shame an' disgrace to you, and +that pity alone kept you from telling me so. No, no, no, I will not go +back to Ashbrook." + +"Look here, then, Sally," said her father at last, "if you wonnot go +back, I'll stay by you. My mind's made up. I'll never lose sight of ye +again, not while I'm alive; and if you wonnot go home wi' me, I must +bide wi' you. There is no other way. It will kill your mother, and it +will kill me, an' leave your child an outcast orphan, but ye are +determined, an' it must e'en be so." + +This staggered her, but still she yielded not, thinking, doubtless, that +her father meant not what he said, till at last, in despair, he told her +the story of Adelaide Codling. He spoke of her despairing looks, her +rapid descent from wild gaiety to death, of her last farewell to this +world, of her lonely grave, and her poor, old, broken-hearted father, +and wound up by asking--"Will you face an end like that, Sally? Dare you +do it, my child? When I saw her jump on the bridge I thought it was +you," he added, with a look that went straight to his daughter's heart. +The story had at first been listened to in dogged silence. Then the +girl's tears began to flow, at first silently, at last with convulsive +sobs. Her father held out his hand as he ceased speaking, and she, moved +so deeply as to be lifted out of herself, laid both her hands in his, +and said-- + +"Father, I'll do as ye wish. I'll go home wi' ye." He drew her down on +her knees beside him, and prayed fervently for mercy and forgiveness for +them both. "But my heart was too full to beg," he afterwards said to me. +"I could only give God thanks for his infinite mercy in restoring my +lost child." + +They missed the morning train, and had to wait till the evening. In the +interval Sarah had stripped off the tawdry ornaments she wore, and +plucked a gaudy feather from her hat--pleasant incidents which her +father noted. In the middle of the night almost they reached the old +cottage in Ashbrook, and both were glad that the darkness hid them from +every eye save God's. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +MAINTAINS THAT FOR THE WRONG SIN-BURDENED MORTAL NO SLEEP IS SO SWEET AS +THE LAST LONG SLEEP OF ALL. + + +There was deep joy in Mrs. Thomas Wanless's cottage that night--joy all +the deeper for the pain that lay beneath it. Mrs. Wanless was not a +demonstrative woman at any time, but that night she embraced her +daughter again and again, and held her to her heart with passionate +eagerness. Sarah was sad, and after the first momentary flash of +delight, shrank back within herself. She went and looked at her child +sleeping quietly in its grandmother's bed, but did not kiss or caress +it. The joy of the parents was dimmed at sight of this indifference, but +when Sarah had retired to rest, Thomas did his best to encourage his +wife to hope. "It will soon be all right between mother and child," he +prophesied, and this no doubt was their hope. It was long, however, ere +they saw any fulfilment of it. In truth, shame took so deep a hold on +Sarah's mind that she became a sort of terror to herself. She was so +crushed by the past, so utterly incapable of rising out of the darkness +that shrouded her mind, that it is probable she would again have fled +from her father's roof had she not been prevented by illness. The life +of false excitement she had led in London had sapped her constitution, +and she had not long returned when her health began to give way. Fits of +shivering seized her, then a hacking, dry cough, which could not be +dislodged. Her complexion grew transparent, her eye preternaturally +bright. She was, in a word, falling into consumption, and in all +probability would not live long to endure her misery. This was doubtless +the kindest fate that could now befall her, but it was a new grief to +her parents when they awoke to consciousness of the fact that this lost +one, so lately found again, was slowly vanishing from their sight for +ever. + +She herself grew happier in the prospect of early death, and from being +silent and cold became gentle, opener in her manner, and more kindly to +all around her, as if striving by her tender care of her child and her +grateful affection for her parents to make the last days of her life on +earth a sweet memory. After a time, too, as she became weaker, her heart +moved her to talk of the past, and she bit by bit told her mother the +story of her flight and her life in the great city. The sum of it all +was misery, an agony of soul unspeakable, from which she ultimately +found no escape save in drink. Her own motive in running away after +Adelaide Codling was not very clear even to herself. Some vague idea of +finding that other victim, and of rescuing her from the doom that she +herself was stricken by, she had, but the governing motives were shame +and pride. Once in the gate of Hell, which London is to tens of +thousands every year, she tried to get access to Captain Wiseman, and +haunted the entrance of his barracks for a week, but he came not. She +did see him at a distance two or three times afterwards, but women such +as she was now dared not approach so great a person in the open streets +by day. With more persistence she sought for Adelaide Codling, but with +no better success. The only occasion when she got near enough to speak +to that poor girl was one day that they met by a shop door in Regent +Street. Adelaide came forth gorgeously dressed, and carrying her head +high just as Sarah passed. They recognised each other, and Sarah stopped +to speak, but the other turned away her head with a toss like her +mother's, and hurried off. + +Soon the peasant's daughter had to abandon all thoughts of others, and +face hunger for herself. Her money and trinkets found her in food and +lodgings but for a few short days, and then she, having obtained no +situation, had to leave the servants' home where she had at first found +refuge, and--either starve or take to the streets. Her sin had branded +her; she had no "references," and no hope. Had courage only been given +her she would have died, but she dared not. It seemed easier to go forth +to the streets. The raging "social evil" that mocks in every +thoroughfare Christianity and the serene, tithe-sustained worshipping +machinery of the State, offered her a refuge. There she could welter and +rot if she pleased, fulfilling the excellent economy of life provided +for us in these islands. The army composing this evil only musters some +100,000 in London, and is something altogether outside the pale of +established and other Christian institutions. + +That summer and winter when the lost Sarah faded away and died was a +hard time for Thomas Wanless and his wife. Work was precarious, and +thus, added to the pain of seeing their child fade away, was the bitter +sense of inability to do all that was possible to prolong her life. +Nearly all the labourer's savings had disappeared during Thomas's long +quest. But they struggled on, complaining to none but God, nor did their +trials break their trust in His help. They felt that the kindness with +which all friends and neighbours treated them in their sorrow was a +proof that the Divine Father of all had not forgotten them. And their +daughter herself became a consolation to their grief-worn spirits. A +sweet resignation took possession of her mind as she neared the end. The +passions of life died away, and the clouds that had hidden her soul for +the most part disappeared. Her parents might dream for moments, when her +cheeks looked brighter than usual, that she would recover, but she +herself knew that death was near, and thanked God. + +During this time the Vicar--poor old man--came oftener than ever to the +labourer's cottage. He could not be said to assert himself against his +wife in doing so, for he came as if by a power stronger than his own +wrecked will. When he was seated by the labourer's fireside, he seemed +to be at peace. Often for an hour at a time he hardly spoke, but just +sat still and looked with a sad kindliness, pathetic to behold, on the +wasting form before him, and either stroked her hand held in his own, or +gently patting the golden head of the little lass that now began to +toddle to his knee. And when the visit was over, the cloud settled down +upon him again. He went forth dejected, a hopeless-looking being, and +crawled helplessly back to the Vicarage. He called on the morning of +Sarah's death. She sank gently to rest on a raw February morning nearly +eight months after her return, and within a week of her twenty-first +birthday. When Mr. Codling was told, he stood for a moment as if dazed, +and then asked to be led to Sarah's bedside. There he stood, gazing +long, with bent head, till the tears rose and blinded him. With them the +higher emotions of his soul welled up within him, and he turned and took +the hand of Wanless, who stood by his side. + +"Thomas, my friend," he said, "I envy your daughter that rest. I, too, +long to be as she is. Life has become all a waste desert to me; oh, so +dreary, dreary." Then, after a pause, he went on--"And I envy you, +Thomas, for have you not cause to rejoice that Sarah has died in her +father's house forgiven? Had it been but so with my Adelaide; oh, had it +been but so, I think--I--hope would not have been lost to me. But I wish +I were dead--yes, dead and forgotten," and, letting go the hand he had +held, he knelt down by the bedside, buried his face, and wept as he had +wept only by his daughter's grave. + +Unhappy old man. Who shall judge him; who say that the All-pitying had +not forgiven? Calming himself presently, the aged Vicar rose to his +feet, and looked again on the dead face, so different in its white +purity and smile of peace from the one he had looked on in London. He +bent and kissed it, and then suffered the grief-worn but calm old +labourer to lead him quietly away. "God bless you and comfort you, sir, +and give you His peace," was all that Thomas trusted himself to utter; +but sorrow had made these men brothers indeed. + +Although Thomas and his wife knew in their hearts that Heaven had been +merciful to their child and to themselves in taking her away, their +sorrow was nevertheless keen. Nay, in some senses it was keener, because +the "might have been" rose before the mind. Here was in truth a waif--a +lost one--mercifully removed from further sorrow, but had there been no +wreck, how short would her life have seemed, how sad its early close. In +Wanless's life, therefore, few days were darker than the day on which he +laid Sarah to rest beside the long-lost little ones in the old +churchyard. It was little consolation to him that half the village +gathered reverently to the funeral, and yet as he thought of the other +grave by which he had stood not many months before, his spirit was +somehow soothed. The contrast must have struck the Vicar likewise, but +he made no sign. He insisted, however, on reading the burial service +himself, in spite of the remonstrances of his young curate, who usually +did this work. Bareheaded and trembling, pale, and feeble looking, with +his white thin hair fluttering in the icy breeze, the sight of their old +pastor that day drew tears to many eyes. His tremulous voice seemed more +solemn to the listeners that day than ever before, and they loved and +pitied the frail old man. More than one villager remarked to his +neighbour as they left the grave that he "did not think Mr. Codling +would be long in following Sally Wanless." + +It was in truth to be so. The Vicar did not live long after, but his was +not the next burial. Before he went--months before--old Squire Wiseman +died and was buried in the family vault, with the pomp and circumstance +that became his station. No one sorrowed at his death, but the lack of +grief was hidden by the abundance of display. All the army of underlings +were put in mourning at the new squire's expense. Cecil was now lord of +the Grange, and one of his first steps was to make it too hot a place +for his mother, by filling it with debased men and women--titled +fledglings and their harpies, horsey men, and sharpers. The wealthy +marriage his mother had sought for him never came off. An Irish peer, +needy as Wiseman, but with a more marketable commodity in the shape of +his title, had swooped down and carried off the prize. The carpet or +"turf" soldier consequently came to his inheritance buried in debt, but +that seemed to make him only the more extravagant. His true place was +the gutter, but the land was entailed, tenants were squeezable, and +though hard up, the new squire floundered on, cursing and a curse. + +His debts should have ruined him, but they merely ruined his tenants, +impoverished the land, and made those driven to depend on him as +beggarly as their master. The weight of this rottenness lay heaviest of +all on the labouring poor, who stood undermost in the social scale. Poor +farmers meant less labour, badly tilled soil, reduced wages, and the +hinds became a picture of misery. All Ashbrook parish suffered for the +sins of this sprig of the aristocracy. What of that! Are the sacred, +priest-sanctioned, bishop-blessed rights of property to be interfered +with because the people want bread? That would be contrary to all law +and order, as established by these delicate perverters of the Hebrew +Scriptures. + +No; better far let the people starve; let the mortgages squeeze those +who do not own; make the fair earth bestowed on man--to be cultivated, +tended, and rendered fruitful--a waste howling desert, peopled by wild +animals, for whose shooting, wealthy pelf-rakers from the centres of +trade are ready to pay high rents. Next to our heaven-bestowed Poor Law, +the Law of Entail, which binds the land to a name or a family, has been +the greatest factor for evil in the national life of England. It has +preserved our "institutions;" gives continuity to our history, men +assert. Perish the people then, but hold fast to this sheet anchor. "It +preserves scoundrels from justice, and the fate they have earned," by +reformers. What of that? These men have the right to be abominable--you +and I, the workers and the sweaters, the privilege only to bear their +abominations. + +It has always struck me, though, that the fetish machinery of the +English Establishment is imperfect in one particular. While in actual +fact all "lord" bishops, and most preachers therein, determinedly oppose +whatsoever would emancipate the people from their bondage, the best of +them never daring to strike boldly at the root of the evils that +threaten England with extinction, that fill the land with misery, that +huddle the bulk of our population into the fever dens of her cities--it +has struck me, I say, that their liturgy is incomplete, almost +hypocritical. A prayer like this should be inserted among the collects +of the day, instead, say, of the collect for peace, which comes so ill +from the lips of men whose ambition is usually to train some of their +children as licensed men-slayers. Let the lawn-sleeved "lord" bishops +look to it, then, and take this hint:-- + +"Sanctify might, O Lord, against right, and make it stronger and +stronger. Bless iniquities in high places, and cause the hypocrisy of +princes to be exalted in the eyes of the people. Protect the nobility +and gentry in their harlotry, and let holiness be measured by the +fineness of the garments. Grind the poor in their poverty, and cause +them to pay that they owe not. And O Lord, we beseech Thee, suffer not +the oppressed to have justice, lest they rise up against us and refuse +to give us the tithes we have filched from the indignant. These things +do, O Lord, and our lips shall praise Thee." + +If you will honestly pray thus, serene "lord" bishops, much-wrangling, +gorgeously-embroidered deans, vicars, and incumbents, you will earn the +respect of honest men. Whatever you do, I beseech you go not on as you +do now, lest the people should one day _act_. They think not a little +even now. + +Fare ye well, then, Cecil Wiseman, sham soldier, horse racer, +blasphemer, drunkard, seducer, sot, farewell! The upper world "society" +protects you, the Church shields you, nay, the priest must e'en bow when +you abduct his daughter, and the very Jews themselves, wholesome scourge +of your class though they be, cannot utterly ruin you--here. Go your +ways--I leave you to God. What witness, think you, will that diseased +body, that bloated face and hang-dog look of yours, bear against you in +the judgment? In that day your very victims may pity you. + +And has not the judgment already come on your mother--cast out, +despised, lonely, poor as she is? Alone, she lives in her little +jointure house at Kenilworth, white-haired, feeble, full of bitterness +of spirit. All the glory of her life has gone. The meanest servant in +Warwickshire may look down on her with commiseration. Your sins have +torn what heart she had, and she begins to awake to the fact that the +law of compensation, the dim foretaste of divine justice, can reach even +such as she. To her likewise let us bid adieu. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +BRINGS US ALL TO THE JOURNEY'S END. + + +The closing years of Thomas Wanless's life were years of peace. His +strength never came back to him after his daughter's death. Indeed, all +the summer that followed it he was beaten down by his old complaint +rheumatism, but there was no dread of the workhouse and the pauper's +grave upon him now. His boy, Thomas the younger, was prospering in the +New World, where landlordism had not yet grown a curse, and insisted on +sharing his modest wealth with his parents. Had the old man been well he +would probably have sturdily refused this help, but as things were he +bowed his head and took what God had given, thankful to his son, +thankful to Heaven, and rejoicing above all things that his boy--his +three children that remained--were delivered from the life that he +himself had led. But what would his end have been save for this +assistance? Assuredly a pauper's. Nothing could have saved him from that +fate. The doom of the labourer is written. It is part of the recognised +glory of the English constitution that he shall die in misery as he +lives; that if he becomes disabled, his shall be the pauper's dole. + +The prosperity of young Thomas rendered Thomas and his wife less +reluctant to let their other children go to Australia. They clung to +them, of course, and would have fain kept them, as it were, within +sight. + +Old Mrs. Wanless was heart-broken at the thought of losing Jane, but she +bore her sorrow and made no complaint, when her husband, his own heart +torn with grief, said--"Let the lass go. There is hope for her and her +husband yonder. Here there is none." Jane therefore married her young +gardener in the autumn of the year of Sarah's death, and went away to +join young Thomas in Victoria. And the soldier-boy, Jacob, went with +them. His time of soldiering was not ended, but his brother Thomas +bought him off, and assisted them all to go to the new country. Jacob +was the labourer's prodigal son, and was loved accordingly. While he +soldiered his parents hardly ever saw him, but he spent a couple of +weeks at home before setting sail for Australia; and then the strength +of his nature, its likeness to that of his father, and the trials he had +endured, brought the old man and him very near to each other. Thus the +wrench of parting was keenest for old Thomas in his case, because the +joy had been but a flash of light in a dark existence. + +"I will never see your face again," the old man said to his children the +last Sunday evening they passed together. "To your mother and me this +parting will be bitterer than death, because you will live, and we will +never hear your voices nor see you more in this world." + +"Oh, father, do not say that," sobbed Jane; "you and mother will come +out to Australia to us, and we'll all live together and be so happy." + +"No, my dear, that will never be. Mother and me are too old to move now. +We will stay behind and pray for you. The time will not be long, and we +have hope. Be brave, my children, and be God-fearing, and, I doubt not, +we shall meet in a better world than this." + +In this spirit they parted, and henceforth old Thomas Wanless and his +wife were left alone with only the little child that Sarah had +bequeathed to them--alone, but not miserable. As the keen edge of sorrow +blunted, the old people went about the daily avocations as before, +serene in appearance, if often sad in spirit. Thomas never worked again +as he had been doing before he went to London, but he became strong +enough to tend his garden and his allotment carefully, and to do +frequent light jobs for the Scotch tenant of Whitbury farm, whose friend +he became. He was thus living almost up to the time when I first made +his acquaintance. + +Then, as his strength of body failed, his mind, as it seemed to me, grew +keener, broader, and more penetrating. He read much, and watched with +close interest the ebb and flow of home politics, looking ever for the +dawn of a better day for the tillers of the soil. When the Warwickshire +labourers broke out in assertion of their right to live, he hailed the +event as an omen of better times. Too wise a man to be carried away by +the notion that single-handed the unlettered, miserable poor could turn +the world upside down, he nevertheless viewed these stirrings among the +dry bones as the beginning of great changes. "I shall not live to see +the land in the hands of those who till it," he would say, "but I can +die in hope now. England will after all be free, and the people will +have their own again. Thank God." + +This belief cheered his last years, and added to the joy of his death. +He died in peace with all men, long indeed, ere his hopes for his +fellow-men had seen fruition, but to the last he declared that it was +coming, that blessed revolution when State Churches should be no more, +and squires, and fox-hunters, and game preservers, and all the social +abominations that ground the poor to the dust would be shaken off and +left far behind in the progress of the nation. + +Three years have come and gone since I stood by the side of Thomas +Wanless's eldest son at his death-bed, and by his grave. He almost died +of the joy he felt at seeing that son once more, when he had given him +to God as one gives the dead. A paralytic stroke seized him within a few +hours of young Thomas's arrival, and he never fully recovered his +faculties. Within a fortnight a second stroke carried him off, and all +the village mourned. His son and I, surrounded by many mourners, laid +him to rest in the old churchyard beside his children, among his +forgotten forefathers. There now, to be equally forgotten, lay squire, +and parson, and parson's wife, all peacefully sleeping, life's fever +over, its jealousies and petty dignities laid aside for evermore. + +And Mrs. Wanless waits still, attended by her grandchild, young Sarah, +now a bright, intelligent, well-educated young woman. When her +grandmother joins Thomas in the last rest of all, she will be taken +across the ocean to these warm-hearted friends far away, and then the +old land will never more see aught of this sturdy peasant stock. But +our statesmen think it a blessing they should go. + + +THE END. + + + + +Transcriber's Notes + +Obvious punctuation errors repaired. + +Hyphen added: "ditch[-]cutting" (p. 49), "broken[-]hearted" (p. 72), +"well[-]nigh" (p. 171). + +Hyphen removed: "house[-]wife" (p. 15), "ear[-]shot" (p. 58), +"dumb[-]founded" (p. 62), "common[-]place" (p. 120), "now[-]a[-]days" +(p. 194), "man[-]kind" (p. 197), "dead[-]house" (p. 210), "out[-]cast" +(p. 219). + +p. 2: "tatooed" changed to "tattooed" (our tattooed ancestors)> + +p. 27: "enthusiam" changed to "enthusiasm" (the feverish enthusiasm of +inexperience). + +p. 27: "portentiously" changed to "portentously" (shook their heads +portentously). + +p. 34: "meeeting" changed to "meeting" (the meeting was to be held). + +p. 35: "wizzened" changed to "wizened" (Grey wizened faces). + +p. 41: "diarymaid" changed to "dairymaid" (the dairymaid will marry). + +p. 59: "famalies" changed to "families" (the pleasure their families +would have). + +p. 85: "of of" changed to "of" (sobriquet of Methody Tom). + +p. 91: "upheavel" changed to "upheaval" (that curious upheaval). + +p. 96: "possibilites" changed to "possibilities" (did not consider these +possibilities). + +p. 100: "Calvanistic" changed to "Calvinistic". + +p. 136: "opportunites" changed to "opportunities" (contrived that his +opportunities). + +p. 139: "exited" changed to "excited" (her beauty excited envy). + +p. 144: "Mrs. Wanlass" changed to "Mrs. Wanless". + +p. 179: "thought" changed to "though" (weary though the old woman was). + +p. 181: "charing" changed to "charring" (to go out charring). + +p. 188: "ricketty" changed to "rickety" (rickety, filthy, old tenement). + +p. 193: "Dury Lane" changed to "Drury Lane". + +p. 203: "Waterleo Bridge" changed to "Waterloo Bridge". + +p. 203: "mein" changed to "mien" (his obvious superiority of mien). + +p. 220: "deil" changed to "devil" and "screached" changed to "screeched" +("What the devil do you want here?" he screeched). + +p. 224: "desparing" changed to "despairing" (her despairing looks). + +p. 237: "Jone" changed to "Jane". + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Life of Thomas Wanless, Peasant, by +Alexander Johnstone Wilson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE OF THOMAS WANLESS *** + +***** This file should be named 38136.txt or 38136.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/1/3/38136/ + +Produced by Moti Ben-Ari and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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