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diff --git a/old/frwps10.txt b/old/frwps10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a65e03f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/frwps10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7617 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Friarswood Post Office +by Charlotte M. Yonge +(#19 in our series by Charlotte M. Yonge) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before distributing this or any other +Project Gutenberg file. + +We encourage you to keep this file, exactly as it is, on your +own disk, thereby keeping an electronic path open for future +readers. Please do not remove this. + +This header should be the first thing seen when anyone starts to +view the etext. 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His clothes aren't good +enough for a scarecrow--and the dirt, you can't see that from here, +but you might sow radishes in it!' + +'Oh, he's swinging on the rail, just as I used to do. Put me down, +Nelly; I don't want to see any more.' And the eyes filled with +tears; there was a working about the thin cheeks and the white lips, +and a long sigh came out at last, 'Oh, if I was but like him!' + +'Like him! I'd wish something else before I wished that,' said +Ellen. 'Don't think about it, Alfred dear; here are Miss Jane's +pictures.' + +'I don't want the pictures,' said Alfred wearily, as he laid his head +down on his white pillow, and shut his eyes because they were hot +with tears. + +Ellen looked at him very sadly, and the feeling in her own mind was, +that he was right, and nothing could make up for the health and +strength that she knew her mother feared would never return to him. + +There he lay, the fair hair hanging round the white brow with the +furrows of pain in it, the purple-veined lids closed over the great +bright blue eyes, the long fingers hanging limp and delicate as a +lady's, the limbs stretched helplessly on the couch, whither it cost +him so much pain to be daily moved. Who would have thought, that not +six months ago that poor cripple was the merriest and most active boy +in the parish? + +The room was not a sad-looking one. There were spotless white dimity +curtains round the lattice window; and the little bed, and the walnut +of the great chest, and of the doors of the press-bed on which Alfred +lay, shone with dark and pale grainings. There was a carpet on the +floor, and the chairs had chintz cushions; the walls were as white as +snow, and there were pretty china ornaments on the mantel-piece, many +little pictures hanging upon the walls, and quite a shelf of books +upon the white cloth, laid so carefully on the top of the drawers. A +little table beside Alfred held a glass with a few flowers, a cup +with some toast and water, a volume of the 'Swiss Family Robinson;' +and a large book of prints of animals was on a chair where he could +reach it. + +A larger table was covered with needle-work, shreds of lining, +scissors, tapes, and Ellen's red work-box; and she herself sat beside +it, a very nice-looking girl of about seventeen, tall and slim, her +lilac dress and white collar fitting beautifully, her black apron +sitting nicely to her trim waist, and her light hair shining, like +the newly-wound silk of the silk-worm, round her pleasant face; where +the large, clear, well-opened blue eyes, and the contrast of white +and red on the cheek, were a good deal like poor Alfred's, and gave +an air of delicacy. + +Their father had been, as their mother said, 'the handsomest coachman +who ever drove to St. James's;' but he had driven thither once too +often; he had caught his death of cold one bitter day when Lady Jane +Selby was obliged to go to a drawing-room, and had gone off in a deep +decline fourteen years ago, when the youngest of his five children +was not six weeks old. + +The Selby family were very kind to Mrs. King, who, besides her +husband's claims on them, had been once in service there; and +moreover, had nursed Miss Jane, the little heiress, Ellen's foster- +sister. By their help she had been able to use her husband's savings +in setting up a small shop, where she sold tea, tobacco and snuff, +tape, cottons, and such little matters, besides capital bread of her +own baking, and various sweet-meats, the best to the taste of her own +cooking, the prettiest to the eye brought from Elbury. Oranges too, +and apples, shewed their yellow or rosy cheeks at her window in their +season; and there was sometimes a side of bacon, displaying under the +brown coat the delicate pink stripes bordering the white fat. Of +late years one pane of her window had been fitted up with a wooden +box, with a slit in it on the outside, and a whole region round it +taken up with printed sheets of paper about 'Mails to Gothenburg,-- +Weekly Post to Vancouver's Island'--and all sorts of places to which +the Friarswood people never thought of writing. + +Altogether, she throve very well; and she was a good woman, whom +every one respected for the pains she took to bring up her children +well. The eldest, Charles, had died of consumption soon after his +father, and there had been much fear for his sister Matilda; but Lady +Jane had contrived to have her taken as maid to a lady who usually +spent the winter abroad, and the warm climate had strengthened her +health. She was not often at Friarswood; but when she came she +looked and spoke like a lady--all the more so as she gave herself no +airs, but was quite simple and humble, for she was a very good right- +minded young woman, and exceedingly fond of her home and her good +mother. + +Ellen would have liked to copy Matilda in everything; and as a first +step, she went for a year to a dress-maker; but just as this was +over, Alfred's illness had begun; and as he wanted constant care and +attendance, it was thought better that she should take in work at +home. Indeed Alfred was such a darling of hers, that she could not +have endured to go away and leave him so ill. + +Alfred had been a most lively, joyous boy, with higher spirits than +he quite knew what to do with, all fun and good-humour, and yet very +troublesome and provoking. He and his brother Harold were the +monkeys of the school, and really seemed sometimes as if they COULD +NOT sit still, nor hinder themselves from making faces, and playing +tricks; but that was the worst of them--they never told untruths, +never did anything mean or unfair, and could always be made sorry +when they had been in fault. Their old school-mistress liked them in +spite of all the plague they gave her; and they liked her too, though +she had tried upon them every punishment she could devise. + +Little Miss Jane, the orphan whom the Colonel and Mrs. Selby had left +to be brought up by her grandmother, had a great fancy that Alfred +should be a page; and as she generally had her own way, he went up to +the Grange when he was about thirteen years old, and put on a suit +thickly sown with buttons. But ere the gloss of his new jacket had +begun to wear off, he had broken four wine-glasses, three cups, and a +decanter, all from not knowing where he was going; he had put sugar +instead of salt into the salt-cellars at the housekeeper's dining- +table, that he might see what she would say; and he had been caught +dressing up Miss Jane's Skye terrier in one of the butler's clean +cravats; so, though Puck, the aforesaid terrier, liked him better +than any other person, Miss Jane not excepted, a regular complaint +went up of him to my Lady, and he was sent home. He was abashed, and +sorry to have vexed mother and disappointed Miss Jane; but somehow he +could not be unhappy when he had Harold to play with him again, and +he could halloo as loud as they pleased, and stamp about in the +garden, instead of being always in mind to walk softly. + +There was the pony too! A new arrangement had just been made, that +the Friarswood letters should be fetched from Elbury every morning, +and then left at the various houses of the large straggling district +that depended on that post-office. All letters from thence must be +in the post before five o'clock, at which time they were to be sent +in to Elbury. The post-master at Elbury asked if Mrs. King's sons +could undertake this; and accordingly she made a great effort, and +bought a small shaggy forest pony, whom the boys called 'Peggy,' and +loved not much less than their sisters. + +It was all very well in the summer to take those two rides in the +cool of the morning and evening; but when winter came on, and Alfred +had to start for Elbury in the tardy dawn of a frosty morning, or +still worse, in the gloom of a wet one, he did not like it at all. +He used to ride in looking blue and purple with the chill; and though +he went as close to the fire as possible, and steamed like the tea- +kettle while he ate his breakfast and his mother sorted the letters, +he had not time to warm himself thoroughly before he had to ride off +to leave them--two miles further altogether; for besides the bag for +the Grange, and all the letters for the Rectory, and for the farmers, +there was a young gentlemen's school at a great old lonely house, +called Ragglesford, at the end of a very long dreary lane; and many a +day Alfred would have given something if those boys' relations would +only have been so good as, with one consent, to leave them without +letters. + +It would not have mattered if Alfred had been a stouter boy; but his +mother had always thought he had his poor father's constitution, and +therefore wished him to be more in the house; but his idleness had +prevented his keeping any such place. It might have been the cold +and wet, or, as Alfred thought, it might have been the strain he gave +himself one day when he was sliding on the ice and had a fall; but +one morning he came in from Elbury very pale, and hobbling, as he +said his hip hurt him so much, that Harold must take the letters +round for him. + +Harold took them that morning, and for many another morning and +evening besides; while poor Alfred came from sitting by the fire to +being a prisoner up-stairs, only moved now and then from his own bed +to lie outside that of his mother, when he could bear it. The doctor +came, and did his best; but the disease had thrown itself into the +hip joint, and it was but too plain that Alfred must be a great +sufferer for a long time, and perhaps a cripple for life. But how +long might this life be? His mother dared not think. Alfred +himself, poor boy, was always trying with his whole might to believe +himself getting better; and Ellen and Harold always fancied him so, +when he was not very bad indeed; but for the last fortnight he had +been decidedly worse, and his heart and hopes were sinking, though he +would not own it to himself, and that and the pain made his spirits +fail so, that he had been more inclined to be fretful than any time +since his illness had begun. + +His view from the window was a pleasant one; and when he was pretty +well, afforded him much amusement. The house stood in a neat garden, +with green railings between it and the road, over which Alfred could +see every one who came and went towards Elbury, and all who had +business at the post-office, or at Farmer Shepherd's. Opposite was +the farm-yard; and if nothing else was going on, there were always +cocks and hens, ducks and turkeys, pigs, cows, or horses, to be seen +there; and the cow-milking, or the taking the horses down to the +water, the pig-feeding, and the like, were a daily amusement. +Sloping down from the farm-yard, the ground led to the river, a +smooth clear stream, where the white ducks looked very pretty, +swimming, diving, and 'standing tail upwards;' and there was a high- +arched bridge over it, where Alfred could get a good view of the +carriages that chanced to come by, and had lately seen all the young +gentlemen of Ragglesford going home for the summer holidays, making +such a whooping and hurrahing, that the place rang again; and beyond, +there were beautiful green meadows, with a straight path through +them, leading to a stile; and beyond that, woods rose up, and there +was a little glimpse of a stately white house peeping through them. +Hay-making was going on merrily in the field, under the bright summer +sun, and the air was full of the sweet smell of the grass, but there +was something sultry and oppressive to the poor boy's feelings; and +when he remembered how Farmer Shepherd had called him to lend a hand +last year, and how happy he had been tossing the hay, and loading the +waggon, a sad sick feeling crept over him; and so it was that the +tears rose in his eyes, and he made his sister lay him back on the +pillow, for he did not wish to see any more. + +Ellen worked and thought, and wanted to entertain him, but could not +think how. Presently she burst out, however, 'Oh, Alfred! there's +Harold coming running back! There he is, jumping over that hay-cock- +-not touched the ground once--another--oh! there's Farmer Shepherd +coming after him!' + +'Hold your tongue,' muttered Alfred moodily, as if each of her words +gave him unbearable pain; and he hid his face in the pillow. + +Ellen kept silence for ten minutes, and then broke forth again, 'Now +then, Alfred, you WILL be glad! There's Miss Jane getting over the +stile.' + +'I don't want Miss Jane,' grumbled Alfred; and as Ellen sprang up and +began smoothing his coverings, collecting her scraps, and tidying the +room, already so neat, he growled again, 'What a racket you keep!' + +'There, won't you be raised up to see her? She does look so pretty +in her new pink muslin, with a double skirt, and her little hat and +feather, that came from London; and there's Puck poking in the hay-- +he's looking for a mouse! And she's showering the hay over him with +her parasol! Oh, look, Alfred!' and she was going to lift him up, +but he only murmured a cross 'Can't you be quiet?' and she let him +alone, but went on talking: 'Ah, there's Puck's little tail +wriggling out--hinder-end foremost--here he comes--they are touching +their hats to her now, the farmer and all, and she nods just like a +little queen! She's got her basket, Alfred. I wonder what she has +for you in it! Oh dear, there's that strange boy on the bridge! She +won't like that.' + +'Why, what would he do to her? He won't bite her,' said Alfred. + +'Oh, if he spoke to her, or begged of her, she'd be so frightened! +There, he looked at her, and she gave such a start. You little +vagabond! I'd like to--' + +'Stuff! what could he do to her, with all the hay-field and Farmer +Shepherd there to take care of her? What a fuss you do make!' said +poor Alfred, who was far too miserable just then to agree with any +one, though at almost any other time he would have longed to knock +down any strange boy who did but dare to pass Miss Selby without +touching his cap; and her visits were in general the very light of +his life. + +They were considered a great favour; for though old Lady Jane Selby +was a good, kind-hearted person, still she had her fancies, and she +kept her young grand-daughter like some small jewel, as a thing to be +folded up in a case, and never trusted in common. She was afraid to +allow her to go about the village, or into the school and cottages, +always fancying she might be made ill, or meet with some harm; but +Mrs. King being an old servant, whom she knew so well, and the way +lying across only two meadows beyond Friarswood Park, the little pet +was allowed to go so far to visit her foster-mother, and bring +whatever she could devise to cheer the poor sick boy. + +Miss Jane, though of the same age as Ellen, and of course with a +great deal more learning and accomplishment, had been so little used +to help herself, or to manage anything, that she was like one much +younger. The sight of the rough stranger on the bridge was really +startling to her, and she came across the road and garden as fast as +she could without a run; and the first thing the brother and sister +heard, was her voice saying rather out of breath and fluttered, 'Oh, +what a horrid-looking boy!' + +Seeing that Mrs. King was serving some one in the shop, she only +nodded to her, and came straight upstairs. Alfred raised up his +head, and beheld the little fairy through the open door, first the +head, and the smiling little face and slight figure in the fresh +summer dress. + +Miss Jane was not thought very pretty by strangers; but that dainty +little person, and sweet sunny eyes and merry smile, and shy, kind, +gracious ways, were perfect in the eyes of her grandmamma and of Mrs. +King and her children, if of nobody else. Alfred, in his present +dismal state, only felt vexed at a fresh person coming up to worry +him, and make a talking; especially one whose presence was a +restraint, so that he could not turn about and make cross answers at +his will. + +'Well, Alfred, how are you to-day?' said the sweet gay voice, a +little subdued. + +'Better, Ma'am, thank you,' said Alfred, who always called himself +better, whatever he felt; but his voice told the truth better than +his words. + +'He's had a very bad night, Miss Jane,' said his sister; 'no sleep at +all since two o'clock, and he is so low to-day, that I don't know +what to do with him.' + +Alfred hated nothing so much as to hear that he was low, for it meant +that he was cross. + +'Poor Alfred!' said the young lady kindly. 'Was it pain that kept +you awake?' + +'No, Ma'am--not so much--' said the boy. + +Miss Jane saw he looked very sad, and hoped to cheer him by opening +her basket. 'I've brought you a new book, Alfred. It is "The +Cherry-stones." Have you finished the last?' + +'No, Ma'am.' + +'Did you like it?' + +'Yes, Ma'am.' + +But it was a very matter-of-course sort of Yes, and disappointed Miss +Jane, who thought he would have been charmed with the 'Swiss Family +Robinson.' + +Ellen spoke: 'Oh yes, Alfred, you know you did like it. I heard you +laughing to yourself at Ernest and the shell of soup. And Harold +reads that; and 'tis so seldom he will look at a book.' + +Jane did not like this quite as well as if Alfred had spoken up more; +but she dived into her basket again, and brought out a neat little +packet of green leaves, with some strawberries done up in it, and +giving a little smile, she made sure that it would be acceptable. + +Ellen thanked vehemently, and Alfred gave feeble thanks; but, +unluckily, he had so set his mind upon raspberries, that he could not +enjoy the thought of anything else. It was a sickly distaste for +everything, and Miss Selby saw that he was not as much pleased as she +meant him to be; she looked at him wistfully, and, half grieved, half +impatient, she longed to know what he would really like, or if he +were positively ungrateful. She was very young, and did not know +whether it was by his fault or her mistake that she had failed to +satisfy him. + +Puck had raced up after her, and had come poking and snuffling round +Alfred. She would have called him away lest he should be too much +for one so weak, but she saw Alfred really did enjoy this: his hand +was in the long rough coat, and he was whispering, 'Poor Puck,' and +'Good little doggie;' and the little hairy rummaging creature, with +the bright black beads of eyes gleaming out from under his shaggy +hair, was doing him more good than her sense and kindness, or Ellen's +either. + +She turned to the window, and said to Ellen, 'What a wild-looking lad +that is on the bridge!' + +'Yes, Miss Jane,' said Ellen; 'I was quite afraid he would frighten +you.' + +'Well, I was surprised,' said Jane; 'I was afraid he might speak to +me; but then I knew I was too near friends for harm to come to me;' +and she laughed at her own fears. 'How ragged and wretched he looks! +Has he been begging?' + +'No, Miss Jane; he came into the shop, and bought some bread. He +paid for it honestly; but I never did see any one so dirty. And +there's Alfred wishing to be like him. I knew you would tell him it +is quite wicked, Miss Jane.' + +It is not right, I suppose, to wish to be anything but what we are,' +said Jane, rather puzzled by the appeal; 'and perhaps that poor +beggar-boy would only like to have a nice room, and kind mother and +sister, like you, Alfred.' + +'I don't say anything against them!' cried the boy vehemently; 'but-- +but--I'd give anything--anything in the world--to be able to run +about again in the hay-field! No, don't talk to me, Ellen, I say--I +hate them all when I see them there, and I forced to lie here! I +wish the sun would never shine!' + +He hid his eyes and ears in the pillow, as if he never wished to see +the light again, and would hear nothing. The two girls both stood +trembling. Ellen looked at Miss Selby, and she felt that she must +say something. But what could she say? + +With tears in her eyes she laid hold of Alfred's thin hand and tried +to speak, choked by tears. 'Dear Alfred, don't say such dreadful +things. You know we are all so sorry for you; but God sent it.' + +Alfred gave a groan of utter distress, as if it were no consolation. + +'And--and things come to do us good,' continued Miss Jane, the tears +starting to her cheeks. + +'I don't know what good it can do me to lie here!' cried Alfred. + +'Oh, but, Alfred, it must.' + +'I tell you,' exclaimed the poor boy, forgetting his manners, so that +Ellen stood dismayed, 'it does not do me good! I didn't use to hate +Harold, nor to hate everybody.' + +'To hate Harold!' said Jane faintly. + +'Ay,' said Alfred, 'when I hear him whooping about like mad, and +jumping and leaping, and going on like I used to do, and never shall +again.' + +The tears came thick and fast, and perhaps they did him good. + +'But, Alfred,' said Jane, trying to puzzle into the right thing, +'sometimes things are sent to punish us, and then we ought to submit +quietly.' + +'I don't know what I've done, then,' he cried angrily. 'There have +been many worse than I any day, that are well enough now.' + +'Oh, Alfred, it is not who is worse, but what one is oneself,' said +Jane. + +Alfred grunted. + +'I wish I knew how to help you,' she said earnestly; 'it is so very +sad and hard; and I dare say I should be just as bad myself if I were +as ill; but do, pray, Alfred, try to think that nobody sent it but +God, and that He must know best.' + +Alfred did not seem to take in much comfort, and Jane did not believe +she was putting it rightly; but it was time for her to go home, so +she said anxiously, 'Good-bye, Alfred; I hope you'll be better next +time--and--and--' She bent down and spoke in a very frightened +whisper, 'You know when we go to church, we pray you may have +patience under your sufferings.' + +Then she sprang away, as if ashamed of the sound of her own words; +but as she was taking up her basket and wishing Ellen good-bye, she +saw that the strange lad had moved nearer the house, and timid little +thing as she was, she took out a sixpence, and said, 'Do give him +that, and ask him to go away.' + +Ellen had no very great fancy for facing the enemy herself, but she +made no objection; and looking down-stairs, she saw her brother +Harold waiting while his mother stamped the letters, and she called +to him, and sent him out to the boy. + +He came back in a few moments so much amazed, that she could see the +whites all round his eyes. + +'He won't have it! He's a rum one that! He says he's no beggar, and +that if the young lady would give him work, he'd thank her; but he +wants none of her money, and he'll stand where he chooses!' + +'Why didn't you lick him?' hallooed out Alfred's voice from his bed. +'Oh! if I--' + +'Nonsense, Alfred!' cried Miss Jane, frightened into spirit; 'stand +still, Harold! I don't mind him.' + +And she put up her parasol, and walked straight out at the house door +as bold as a little lioness, going on without looking to the right or +left. + +'IF--' began Harold, clenching his fists--and Alfred raised himself +upon his bed with flashing eyes to watch, as the boy had moved +nearer, and looked for a moment as if he were going to grin, or say +something impudent; but the quiet childish form stepping on so simply +and steadily seemed to disarm him, and he shrunk back, left her to +trip across the road unmolested, and stood leaning over the rail of +the bridge, gazing after her as she crossed the hay-field. + +Harold rode off with the letters; and Alfred lay gazing, and +wondering what that stranger could be, counting the holes in his +garments, and trying to guess at his history. + +One good thing was, that Alfred was so much carried out of himself, +that he was cheerful all the evening. + + + +CHAPTER II--HAY-MAKING + + + +There was again a sultry night, which brought on so much discomfort +and restlessness, that poor Alfred could not sleep. He tried to bear +in mind how much he had disturbed his mother the night before, and he +checked himself several times when he felt as if he could not bear it +any longer without waking her, and to remember his old experience, +that do what she would for him, it would be no real relief, and he +should only be sorry the next day when he saw her going about her +work with a worn face and a head-ache. + +Then every now and then Miss Selby's words about being patient came +back to him. Sometimes he thought them hard, coming from a being who +had never known sickness or sorrow, and wondered how she would feel +if laid low as he was; but they would not be put away in that manner, +for he knew they were true, and were said by others than Miss Jane, +though he had begun to think no phrase so tiresome, hopeless, or +provoking. People always told him to be patient when they had no +comfort to give him, and did not know what he was suffering. He +would not have minded it so much if only he could have got it out of +his head. Somehow it would not let him call to his mother, if it was +only because very likely all he should get by so doing would be to be +again told to be patient. And then came Miss Jane's telling him his +illness might be good for him, as if she thought he deserved to be +punished. Really that was hard! Who could think he deserved this +wearing pain and helplessness, only because he had played tricks on +the butler and housekeeper, and now and then laughed at church? + +'It is just like Job and his friends,' thought Alfred. 'I don't want +her to come and see me any more!' + +Poor Alfred! There was a little twinge here. His conscience could +not give quite such an account as did that of Job! But he did not +like recollecting his own errors better than any of us do, and liked +much more to feel himself very hardly used, and greatly to be pitied. +Thereupon he opened his lips to call to his mother, but that old +thought about patience returned on him; he had mercy on her regular +breathing, though it made him quite envious to hear it, and he said +to himself that he would let her alone, at least till the next time +the clock struck. It would be three o'clock next time. Oh dear, +would the night never be over? How often such a round of weary +thoughts came again and again can hardly be counted; but, at any +rate, poor Alfred was exercising one act of forbearance, and that was +so much gain. At last he found, by the increasing light shewing him +the shapes of all the pictures, that he must have had a short sleep +which had made him miss the clock, and he felt a good deal injured +thereby. + +However, Mrs. King was too good a nurse not to be awakened by his +first movement, and she came to him, gave him some cold tea, and +settled his pillow so as to make him more comfortable; and when he +begged her to let in a little more air, she went to open the window +wider, and relieve the closeness of the little room. She had learnt +while living with Lady Jane that night air is not so dangerous as +some people fancy; and it was an infinite relief to Alfred when the +lattice was thrown back, and the cool breeze came softly in, with the +freshness of the dew, and the delicious scent of the hay-field. + +Mrs. King stood a moment to look out at the beautiful stillness of +early dawn, the trees and meads so gravely calmly quiet, and the +silver dew lying white over everything; the tanned hay-cocks rising +up all over the field, the morning star and waning moon glowing pale +as light of morning spread over the sky. Then a cock crew somewhere +at a distance, and Mrs. Shepherd's cock answered him more shrilly +close by, and the swallows began to twitter under the eaves. + +'It WILL be a fine day, to be sure!' she said. 'The farmer will get +in his hay!' and then she stood looking as if something had caught +her attention. + +'What do you see, Mother?' asked Alfred. + +'I was looking what that was under yon hay-cock,' said Mrs. King; +'and I do believe it is some one sleeping there.' + +'Ha!' cried Alfred. 'I dare say it is the boy that would not have +Miss Jane's sixpence.' + +'I'm sure I hope he's after no harm,' said Mrs. King; 'I don't like +to have tramps about so near. I hope he means no mischief by the +farmer's poultry.' + +'He can't be one of that sort, or he wouldn't have refused the +money,' said Alfred. 'How nice and cool it must be sleeping in the +hay! I'll warrant he doesn't lie awake. I wish I was there!' + +'You'll know what to be thankful for one of these days, my poor lad,' +said his mother, sighing; then yawning, she said, 'I must go back to +bed. Mind you call out, Alfred, if you hear anything like a noise in +the farmyard.' + +This notion rather interested Alfred; he began to build up a fine +scheme of shouting out and sending Harold to the rescue of the cocks +and hens, and how well he would have done it himself a year ago, and +pinned the thief, and fastened the door on him. Not that he thought +this individual lad at all likely to be a thief, nor did he care much +for Farmer Shepherd, who was a hard man and no favourite; but to +catch a thief would be a grand feat. And while settling his clever +plan, and making some compliments for the magistrate to pay him, +Alfred, fanned by the cool breeze, fell into a sound sleep, and did +not wake till the sun was high, and all the rest of the house were up +and dressed. + +That good sleep made him much more able to bear the burden of the +day. First, his mother came with the towel and basin, and washed his +face and hands; and then he had his little book, and said his +prayers; and somehow to-day he felt so much less fractious than +usual, that he asked to be taught patience, and not ONLY to be made +well, as he had hitherto done. + +That over, he lay smiling as he waited for his breakfast, and when +Ellen brought it to him, he had not one complaint to make, but ate it +almost with a relish. 'Is that boy gone?' he asked Ellen, as she +tidied the room while he was eating. + +'What, the dirty boy? No, there he is, speaking to the farmer. Will +he beg of him?' + +'Asking for work, more likely.' + +'I'd sooner give work to a pig at once,' said Ellen; 'but I do +believe he's getting it. I fancy they are short of hands for the +hay. Yes, he's pointing into the field. Ay, and he's sending him +into the yard.' + +'I hope he'll give him some breakfast,' said Alfred. 'Do you know he +slept all night on a hay-cock?' + +'Yes, so Mother said, just like a dog; and he got up like a dog this +morning,--never so much as washed himself at the river. Why, he's +coming here! Whatever does he want?' + +'The lad?' + +'No, the farmer.' + +Mr. Shepherd's heavy tread was heard below, and, as Alfred said, +Ellen had only to hold her tongue for them be able to hear his loud +tones telling Mrs. King that the glass was falling, and his hay in +capital order, and his hands short, and asking whether her boy Harold +would come and help in the hay-field between the post times. Mrs. +King gave a ready answer that the boy would be well pleased, and the +farmer promised him his victuals and sixpence for the day. 'Your +lass wouldn't like to come too, I suppose, eh?' + +Ellen flushed with indignation. She go a hay-making! Her mother was +civilly making answer that her daughter was engaged with her sick +brother, and besides--had her work for Mrs. Price, which must be +finished off. The farmer, saying he had not much expected her, but +thought she might like a change from moping over her needle, went +off. + +Ellen did not feel ready to forgive him for wanting to set her to +field-work. There is some difference between being fine and being +refined, and in Ellen's station of life it is very difficult to hit +the right point. To be refined is to be free from all that is rough, +coarse, or ungentle; to be fine, is to affect to be above such +things. Now Ellen was really refined in her quietness and maidenly +modesty, and there was no need for her to undertake any of those +kinds of tasks which, by removing young girls from home shelter, do +sometimes help to make them rude and indecorous; but she was FINE, +when she gave herself a little mincing air of contempt, as if she +despised the work and those who did it. Lydia Grant, who worked so +steadily and kept to herself so modestly, that no one ventured a bold +word to her as she tossed her hay, was just as refined as Ellen King +behind her white blinds, ay, or as Jane Selby herself in her terraced +garden. Refinement is in the mind that loves whatsoever is pure, +lovely, and of good report; finery is in disdaining what is homely or +humble. + +Boys of all degrees are usually, when they are good for anything, the +greatest enemies of the finery tending to affectation; and Alfred at +once began to make a little fun of his sister, and tell her it would +be a famous thing for her, he believed she had quite forgotten how to +run, and did not know a rake from a fork when she saw it. He knew +she was longing for a ride in the waggon, if she would but own it. + +Ellen used to be teased by this kind of joking; but she was too glad +to see Alfred well enough so to entertain himself, to think of +anything but pleasing him, so she answered good-humouredly that +Harold must make hay for them all three to-day, no doubt but he would +be pleased enough. + +He was heard trotting home at this moment, and whistling as he +hitched up the pony at the gate, and ran in with the letter-bag, to +snap up his breakfast while the letters were sorted. + +'Here, let me have them,' called Alfred, and they were glad he should +do it, for he was the quickest of the family at reading handwriting; +but he was often too ill to attend to it, and more often the weary +fretfulness and languor of his state made him dislike to exert +himself, so it was apt to depend on his will or caprice. + +'Look sharp, Alf!' hallooed out Harold, rushing up-stairs with the +bags in one hand, and his bread-and-butter in the other. 'If you +find a letter for that there Ragglesford, I don't know what I shall +do to you! I must be back in no time for the hay!' + +And he had bounced down-stairs again before Ellen had time to scold +him for making riot enough to shake Alfred to pieces. He was a fine +tall stout boy, with the same large fully open blue eyes, high +colour, white teeth, and light curly hair, as his brother and sister, +but he was much more sunburnt. If you saw him with his coat off, he +looked as if he had red gloves and a red mask on, so much whiter was +his skin where it was covered; and he was very strong for his age, +and never had known what illness was. The brothers were very fond of +each other, but since Alfred had been laid up, they had often been a +great trial to each other--the one seemed as little able to live +without making a noise, as the other to endure the noise he made; and +the sight of Harold's activity and the sound of his feet and voice, +vexed the poor helpless sufferer more than they ought to have done, +or than they would had the healthy brother been less thoughtless in +the joy of his strength. + +To-day, however, all was smooth. Alfred did not feel every tread of +those bounding limbs like a shock to his poor diseased frame; and he +only laughed as he unlocked the leathern bag, and dealt out the +letters, putting all those for the Lady Jane Selby, Miss Selby, and +the servants, into their own neat little leathern case with the +padlock, and sorting out the rest, with some hope there might be one +from Matilda, who was a very good one to write home. There was none +from her, but then there was none for Ragglesford, and that was +unexpected good luck. If the old housekeeper left in charge had been +wicked enough to get her newspaper that day, Alfred felt that in +Harold's place he should be sorely tempted to chuck it over the +hedge. Ellen looked as if he had talked of murdering her, and truly +such a breach of trust would have been a very grievous fault. + +'The Reverend--what's his name? the Reverend Marcus Cope, Friarswood, +near Elbury,' read Alfred; 'one, two, three letters, and a newspaper. +Yes, and this long printed-looking thing. Who is he, Ellen?' + +'What did you say?' said Ellen, who was busy shaking her mother's +bed, and had not heard at the first moment, but now turned eagerly; +'what did you say his name was?' + +'The Reverend Marcus Cope,' repeated Alfred. 'Is that another new +parson?' + +'Why, did not we tell you what a real beautiful sermon the new +clergyman preached on Sunday? Mr. Cope, so that's his name. I +wonder if he is come to stay.--Mother,' she ran to the head of the +stairs, 'the new clergyman's name is the Reverend Mr. Marcus Cope.' + +'He don't live at Ragglesford, I hope!' cried Harold, who regarded +any one at the end of that long lane as his natural enemy. + +'No, it only says Friarswood,' said Ellen. 'You'll have to find out +where he lives, Harold.' + +'Pish! it will take me an hour going asking about!' said Harold +impatiently. 'He must have his letters left here till he chooses to +come for them, if he doesn't know where he lives.' + +'No, no, Harold, that won't do,' said Mrs. King. 'You must take the +gentleman his letters, and they'll be sure to know at the Park, or at +the Rectory, or at the Tankard, where he lodges. Well, it will be a +real comfort if he is come to stop.' + +So Harold went off with the letters and the pony, and Ellen and her +mother exchanged a few words about the gentleman and his last +Sunday's sermon, and then Ellen went to dust the shop, and put out +the bread, while her mother attended to Alfred's wound, the most +painful part of the day to both of them. + +It was over, however, and Alfred was resting afterwards when Harold +cantered home as hard as the pony could or would go, and came racing +up to say, 'I've seen him! He's famous! He stood out in the road +and met me, and asked for his letters, and he's to be at the +Parsonage, and he asked my name, and then he laughed and said, "Oh! +I perceive it is the royal mail!" I didn't know what he was at, but +he looked as good-humoured as anything. Halloo! give me my old hat, +Nell--that's it! Hurrah! for the hay-waggon! I saw the horses +coming out!' + +And off he went again full drive; and Alfred did nothing worse than +give a little groan. + +Ellen had enough to do in wondering about Mr. Cope. News seemed to +belong of right to the post-office, and it was odd that he should +have preached on Sunday, and now it should be Tuesday, without +anything having been heard of him, not even from Miss Jane; but then +the young lady had been fluttered by the strange boy, and Alfred had +been so fretful, that it might have put everything out of her head. + +Friarswood was used to uncertainty about the clergyman. The Rector +had fallen into such bad health, that he had long been unable to do +anything, and always hoping to get better, he had sent different +gentlemen to take the services, first one and then another, or had +asked the masters at Ragglesford to help him; but it was all very +irregular, and no one had settled down long enough to know the people +or do much good in visiting them. My Lady, as they all called Lady +Jane, was as sorry as any one could be, and she tried what she could +do by paying a very good school-master and mistress, and giving +plenty of rewards; but nothing could be like the constant care of a +real good clergyman, and the people were all the worse for the want. +They had the church to go to, but it was not brought home to them. +The Rector had been obliged at last to go abroad, one of the +Ragglesford gentlemen had performed the service for the ensuing +Sundays, until now there seemed to be a chance that this new +clergyman was coming to stay. + +This interested Alfred less than his sister. His curiosity was +chiefly about the strange lad; and when he was moved to his place by +the window he turned his eyes anxiously to make him out in the line +of hay-makers, two fields off, as they shook out the grass to give it +the day's sunshine. He knew them all, the ten women, with their old +straw bonnets poked down over their faces, and deep curtains sewn on +behind to guard their necks; the farm men come in from their other +work to lend a hand, three or four boys, among whom he could see +Harold's white shirt sleeves, and sometimes hear his merry laugh, and +he was working next to the figure in brown faded-looking tattered +array, which Alfred suspected to belong to the strange boy. So did +Ellen. 'Ah!' she said, 'Harold ye scraped acquaintance with that +vagabond-looking boy; I wish I had warned him against it, but I +suppose he would only have done it all the more.' + +'You want to make friends with him yourself, Ellen! We shall have +you nodding to him next! You are as curious about him as can be!' +said Alfred slyly. + +'Me! I never was curious about nothing so insignificant,' said +Ellen. 'All I wish is, that that boy may not be running into bad +company.' + +The hay-fields were like an entertainment on purpose for Alfred all +day; he watched the shaking of the brown grass all over the meadows +in the morning, and the farmer walking over it, and smelling it, and +spying up to guess what would come of the great rolling towers of +grey clouds edged with pearly white, soft but dazzling, which varied +the intense blue of the sky. + +Then he watched all the company sit or lie down on the shady side of +the hedge, under the pollard-willows, and Tom Boldre the shuffler and +one or two more go into the farm-house, and come out with great +yellow-ware with pies in them, and the little sturdy-looking kegs of +beer, and two mugs to go round among them all. There was Harold +lying down, quite at his ease, close to the strange boy; Alfred knew +how much better that dinner would taste to him than the best with the +table-cloth neatly spread in his mother's kitchen; and well did +Alfred remember how much more enjoyment there was in such a meal as +that, than in any one of the dainties that my Lady sent down to tempt +his sickly appetite. And what must pies and beer be to the wanderer +who had eaten the crust so greedily the day before! Then, after the +hour's rest, the hay-makers rose up to rake the hay into beds ready +for the waggons. Harold and the stranger were raking opposite to +each other, and Alfred could see them talking; and when they came +into the nearer hay-field, he saw Harold put up his hand, and point +to the open window, as if he were telling the other lad about the +sick boy who was lying there. + +He was so much absorbed in thus watching, that he did not pay much +heed to what interested his mother and sister--the reports which came +by every customer about the new clergyman, who, it appeared, had been +staying in the next parish till yesterday, when he had moved into the +Rectory; and Mrs. Bonham, the butcher's wife, reported that the +Rectory servants said he was come to stay till their master came +back. All this and much more Mrs. King heard and rehearsed to Ellen, +while Alfred lay, sometimes reading the 'Swiss Robinson,' sometimes +watching the loading of the wains, as they creaked slowly through the +fields, the horses seeming to enjoy the work, among their fragrant +provender, as much as the human kind. When five o'clock struck, +Harold gave no signs of quitting the scene of action; and Mrs. King, +in much anxiety lest the letters should be late, sent Helen to get +the pony ready, while she herself went into the field to call the +boy. + +Very unwilling he was to come--he shook his shoulders, and growled +and grumbled, and said he should be in plenty of time, and he wished +the post was at the bottom of the sea. Nothing but his mother's +orders and the necessity of the case could have made him go at all. +At last he walked off, as if he had lead in his feet, muttering that +he wished he had not some one to be always after him. Mrs. King +looked at the grimy face of his disreputable-looking companion, and +wondered whether he had put such things into his head. + +Very cross was Harold as he twitched the bridle out of Ellen's hand, +threw the strap of the letter-bag round his neck, and gave such a re- +echoing switch to the poor pony, that Alfred heard it upstairs, and +started up to call out, 'For shame, Harold!' + +Harold was ashamed: he settled himself in the saddle and rode off, +but Alfred had not the comfort of knowing that his ill-humour was not +being vented upon the poor beast all the way to Elbury. Alfred had +given a great deal of his heart to that pony, and it made him feel +helpless and indignant to think that it was ill-used. Those tears of +which he was ashamed came welling up into his eyes as he lay back on +his pillow; but they were better tears than yesterday's--they were +not selfish. + +'Never mind, Alfy,' said Ellen, 'Harold's not a cruel lad; he'll not +go on, if he was cross for a bit. It is all that he's mad after that +boy there! I wish mother had never let him go into the hay-field to +meet bad company! Depend upon it, that boy has run away out of a +Reformatory! Sleeping out at night! I can't think how Farmer +Shepherd could encourage him among honest folk!' + +'Well, now I think of it, I should not wonder if he had,' said Mrs. +King. 'He is the dirtiest boy that ever I did see! Most likely; I +wish he may do no mischief to-night!' + +Harold came home in better humour, but a fresh vexation awaited him. +Mrs. King would not let him go to the hay-home supper in the barn. +The men were apt to drink too much and grow riotous; and with her +suspicions about his new friend, she thought it better to keep him +apart. She was a spirited woman, who would be minded, and Harold +knew he must submit, and that he had behaved very ill. Ellen told +him too how much Alfred had been distressed about the pony, and +though he would not shew her that he cared, it made him go straight +up-stairs, and with a somewhat sheepish face, say, 'I say, Alf, the +pony's all right. I only gave him one cut to get him off. He'd +never go at all if he didn't know his master.' + +'He'd go fast enough for my voice,' said Alfred. + +'You know I'd never go for to beat him,' continued Harold; 'but it +was enough to vex a chap--wasn't it?--to have Mother coming and +lugging one off from the carrying, and away from the supper and all. +Women always grudge one a bit of fun!' + +'Mother never grudged us cricket, nor nothing in reason,' said +Alfred. 'Lucky you that could make hay at all! And what made you so +taken up with that new boy that Ellen runs on against, and will have +it he's a convict?' + +'A convict! if Ellen says that again!' cried Harold; 'no more a +convict than she is.' + +'What is he, then? Where does he come from?' + +'His name is Paul Blackthorn,' said Harold; 'and he's the queerest +chap I ever came across. Why, he knew no more what to do with a +prong than the farmer's old sow till I shewed him.' + +'But where did he come from?' repeated Alfred. + +'He walked all the way from Piggot's turnpike yesterday,' said +Harold. 'He's looking for work.' + +'And before that?' + +'He'd been in the Union out--oh! somewhere, I forgot where, but it's +a name in the Postal Guide.' + +'Well, but you've not said who he is,' said Ellen. + +'Who? why, I tell you, he's Paul Blackthorn.' + +'But I suppose he had a father and mother,' said Ellen. + +'No,' said Harold. + +'No!' Ellen and Alfred cried out together. + +'Not as ever he heard tell of,' said Harold composedly, as if this +were quite natural and common. + +'And you could go and be raking with him like born brothers there!' +said Ellen, in horror. + +'D'ye think I'd care for stuff like that?' said Harold. 'Why, he +sings--he sings better than Jack Lyte! He's learnt to sing, you +know. And he's such a comical fellow! he said Mr. Shepherd was like +a big pig on his hind legs; and when Mrs. Shepherd came out to count +the scraps after we had done, what does he do but whisper to me to +know how long our withered cyder apples had come to life!' + +Such talents for amusing others evidently far out-weighed in Harold's +consideration such trifling points as fathers, mothers, and +respectability. Alfred laughed; but Ellen thought it no laughing +matter, and reproved Harold for being wicked enough to hear his +betters made game of. + +'My betters!' said Harold--'an old skin-flint like Farmer Shepherd's +old woman?' + +'Hush, Harold! I'll tell Mother of you, that I will!' cried Ellen. + +'Do then,' said Harold, who knew his sister would do no such thing. +She had made the threat too often, and then not kept her word. + +She contented herself with saying, 'Well, all I know is, that I'm +sure now he has run away out of prison, and is no better than a +thief; and if our place isn't broken into before to-morrow morning, +and Mother's silver sugar-tongs gone, it will be a mercy. I'm sure I +shan't sleep a wink all night.' + +Both boys laughed, and Alfred asked why he had not done it last +night. + +'How should I know?' said Ellen. 'Most likely he wanted to see the +way about the place, before he calls the rest of the gang.' + +'Take care, Harold! it's a gang coming now,' said Alfred, laughing +again. 'All coming on purpose to steal the sugar-tongs!' + +'No, I'll tell you what they are come to steal,' said Harold +mischievously; 'it's all for Ellen's fine green ivy-leaf brooch that +Matilda sent her!' + +'I dare say Harold has been and told him everything valuable in the +house!' said Ellen. + +'I think,' said Alfred gravely, 'it would be a very odd sort of thief +to come here, when the farmer's ploughing cup is just by.' + +'Yes,' said Harold, 'I'd better have told him of that when I was +about it; don't you think so, Nelly?' + +'If you go on at this rate,' said Ellen, teased into anger, 'you'll +be robbing the post-office yourself some day.' + +'Ay! and I'll get Paul Blackthorn to help me,' said the boy. 'Come, +Ellen, don't be so foolish; I tell you he's every bit as honest as I +am, I'd go bail for him.' + +'And I KNOW he'll lead you to ruin!' cried Ellen, half crying: 'a +boy that comes from nowhere and nobody knows, and sleeps on a hay- +cock all night, no better than a mere tramp!' + +'What, quarrelling here? 'said Mrs. King, coming upstairs. 'The lad, +I wish him no ill, I'm sure, but he'll be gone by to-morrow, so you +may hold your tongues about him, and we'll read our chapter and go to +bed.' + +Harold's confidence and Ellen's distrust were not much wiser the one +than the other. Which was nearest being right? + + + +CHAPTER III--A NEW FRIEND + + + +The post-office was not robbed that night, neither did the silver +sugar-tongs disappear, though Paul Blackthorn was no farther off than +the hay-loft at Farmer Shepherd's, where he had obtained leave to +sleep. + +But he did not go away with morning, though the hay-making was over. +Ellen saw him sitting perched on the empty waggon, munching his +breakfast, and to her great vexation, exchanging nods and grins when +Harold rode by for the morning's letters; and afterwards, there was a +talk between him and the farmer, which ended in his having a hoe put +into his hand, and being next seen in the turnip-field behind the +farm. + +To make up for the good day, this one was a very bad one with poor +Alfred. There was thunder in the air, and if the sultry heat weighed +heavily even on the healthy, no wonder it made him faint and +exhausted, disposed to self-pity, and terribly impatient and fretful. +He was provoked by Ellen's moving about the room, and more provoked +by Harold's whistling as he cleaned out the stable; and on the other +hand, Harold was petulant at being checked, and vowed there was no +living in the house with Alfred making such a work. Moreover, Alfred +was restless, and wanted something done for him every moment, +interrupting Ellen's work, and calling his mother up from her baking +so often for trifles, that she hardly knew how to get through it. + +The doctor, Mr. Blunt, came, and he too felt the heat, having spent +hours in going his rounds in the closeness and dust. He was a rough +man, and his temper did not always hold out; he told Alfred sharply +that he would have no whining, and when the boy moaned and winced +more than he would have done on a good day, he punished him by not +trying to be tender-handed. When Mrs. King said, perhaps a little +lengthily, how much the boy had suffered that morning, the doctor, +wearied out, no doubt, with people's complaints, cut her short rather +rudely, 'Ay, ay, my good woman, I know all that.' + +'And can nothing be done, Sir, when he feels so sinking and weak?' + +'Sinking--he must feel sinking--nothing to do but to bear it,' said +Mr. Blunt gruffly, as he prepared to go. 'Don't keep me now;' and as +Alfred held up his hand, and made some complaint of the tightness of +the bandage, he answered impatiently, 'I've no time for that, my lad; +keep still, and be glad you've nothing worse to complain of.' + +'Then you don't think he is getting any better, Sir?' said Mrs. King, +keeping close to him. 'I thought he was yesterday, and I wanted to +speak to you. My oldest daughter thought if we could get him away to +the sea, and--' + +'That's all nonsense,' said the hurried doctor; 'don't you spend your +money in that way; I tell you nothing ever will do him any good.' + +This was at the bottom of the stairs; and Mr. Blunt was off. He was +the cleverest doctor for a good way round, and it was not easy to +Mrs. King to secure his attendance. Her savings and Matilda's were +likely to melt away sadly in paying him, since she was just too well +off to be doctored at the parish expense, and he was really a good +and upright man, though wanting in softness of manner when he was +hurried and teased. If Mrs. King had known that he was in haste to +get to a child with a bad burn, she might have thought him less +unkind in the short ungentle way in which he dashed her hopes. Alas! +there had never been much hope; but she feared that Alfred might have +heard, and have been shocked. + +Ellen heard plainly enough, and her heart sank. She tried to look at +her brother's face, but he had put it out of sight, and spoke not a +word; and she only could sit wondering what was the real drift of the +cruel words, and whether the doctor meant to give no hope of +recovery, or only to dissuade her mother from vainly trying change of +air. Her once bright brother always thus! It was a sad thought, and +yet she would have been glad to know he would be no worse; and +Ellen's heart was praying with all her might that he might have his +health and happiness restored to him, and that her mother might be +spared this bitter sorrow. + +Alfred said nothing about the doctor's visit, but he could eat no +dinner, and did not think this so much the fault of his sickly taste, +as of his mother's potato-pie; he could not think why she should be +so cross as to make that thing, when she knew he hated it; and as to +poor Harold, Alfred would hardly let him speak or stir, without +ordering Ellen down to tell him not to make such a row. + +Ellen was thankful when Harold was fairly hunted out of the house and +garden, even though he betook himself to the meadow, where Paul +Blackthorn was lying on the grass with his feet kicking in the air, +and shewing the skin through his torn shoes. The two lads squatted +down on the grass with their heads together. Who could tell what +mischief that runaway might be putting into Harold's head, and all +because Alfred could not bear with him enough for him to be happy at +home? + +They were so much engrossed, that it needed a rough call from the +farmer to send Paul back to his work when the dinner-hour was over; +whereupon Harold came slowly to his digging again. + +Hotter and hotter did it grow, and the grey dull clouds began to gain +a yellow lurid light in the distance; there were low growlings of +thunder far away, and Ellen left her work unfinished, and forgot how +hot she was herself in toiling to fan Alfred, so as to keep him in +some little degree cooler, while the more he strove with the heat, +the more oppressed and miserable he grew. + +Poor fellow! his wretchedness was not so much the heat, as the dim +perception of Mr. Blunt's hasty words; he had not heard them fully-- +he dared not inquire what they had been, and he could not endure to +face them--yet the echo of 'nothing will ever do him good,' seemed to +ring like a knell in his ears every time he turned his weary head. +Nothing do him good! Nothing! Always these four walls, that little +bed, this wasting weary lassitude, this gnawing, throbbing pain, no +pony, no running, no shouting, no sense of vigour and health ever +again, and perhaps--that terrible perhaps, which made Alfred's very +flesh quail, he would not think of; and to drive it away, he found +some fresh toil to require of the sister who could not content him, +toil as she would. + +Slowly the afternoon hours rolled on, one after the other, and Alfred +had just been in a pet with the clock for striking four when he +wanted it to be five, when the sky grew darker, and one or two heavy +drops of rain came plashing down on the thirsty earth. + +'The storm is coming at last, and now it will be cooler,' said Ellen, +looking out from the window. 'Dear me!' she added, there stopping +short. + +'What?' asked Alfred. 'What are you gaping at?' + +'I declare!' cried Ellen, 'it's the new clergyman! It is Mr. Cope, +and he is coming up to the wicket!' + +Alfred turned his head with a peevish sound; he was in the dreary +mood to resent whatever took off attention from him for a moment. + +'A very pleasant-looking gentleman,' commented Ellen, 'and so young! +He does not look older than Charles Lawrence! I wonder whether he is +coming in, or if it is only to post a letter. Oh! there he is, +talking to Mother! There!' + +A vivid flash of lightning came over the room at that moment and made +them all pause till it was followed up by the deep rumble of the +thunder, and then down rushed the rain, plashing and leaping up +again, bringing out the delicious scent from the earth, and seeming +in one moment to breathe refreshment and relief on the sick boy. His +brow was already clearing, as he listened to his mother's tones of +welcome, as she was evidently asking the stranger to sit down and +wait for the storm to be over, and the cheerful voice that replied to +her. He did not scold Ellen for, as usual, making things neat; and +whereas, five minutes sooner, he would have hated the notion of any +one coming near him, he now only hoped that his mother would bring +Mr. Cope up; and presently he heard the well-known creak of the +stairs under a manly foot, and his mother's voice saying something +about 'a great sufferer, Sir.' + +Then came in sight his mother's white cap, and behind her one of the +most cheerful lively faces that Alfred had ever beheld. The new +Curate looked very little more than a boy, with a nice round fresh +rosy face, and curly brown hair, and a quick joyous eye, and regular +white teeth when he smiled that merry good-humoured smile. Indeed, +he was as young as a deacon could be, and he looked younger. He +knocked his tall head against the top of the low doorway as he came +into the room, and answered Mrs. King's apologies with a pleasant +laugh. Ellen knew her mother would like him the better for his +height, for no one since the handsome coachman himself had had to +bend his head to get into the room. Alfred liked the looks of him +the first moment, and by way of salutation put up one of his weary, +white, blue-veined hands to pull his damp forelock; but Mr. Cope, +nodding in answer to Ellen's curtsey, took hold of his hand at once, +and softening the cheery voice that was so pleasant to hear, said, +'Well, my boy, I hope we shall be good friends. And what's your +name?' + +'Alfred King, Sir,' was the answer. It really was quite a pleasure +not to begin with the old weary subject of being pitied for his +illness. + +'King Alfred!' said Mr. Cope. 'I met King Harold yesterday. I've +got into royal company, it seems!' + +Alfred smiled, it was said so drolly; but his mother, who felt a +little as if she were being laughed at, said, 'Why, Sir, my brother's +name was Alfred; and as to Harold, it was to please Miss Jane's +little sister that died--she was quite a little girl then, Sir, but +so clever, and she would have him named out of her History of +England.' + +'Did Miss Selby give you those flowers?' said Mr. Cope, admiring the +rose and geranium in the cup on the table. + +'Yes, Sir;' and Mrs. King launched out in the praises of Miss Jane +and of my Lady, an inexhaustible subject which did not leave Alfred +much time to speak, till Mrs. King, seeing the groom from the Park +coming with the letter-bag through the rain, asked Mr. Cope to excuse +her, and went down-stairs. + +'Well, Alfred, I think you are a lucky boy,' he said. 'I was +comparing you with a lad I once knew of, who got his spine injured, +and is laid up in a little narrow garret, in a back street, with no +one to speak to all day. I don't know what he would not give for a +sister, and a window like this, and a Miss Jane.' + +Alfred smiled, and said, 'Please, Sir, how old is he?' + +'About sixteen; a nice stout lad he was, as ever I knew, till his +accident; I often used to meet him going about with his master, and +thought it was a pleasure to meet such a good-humoured face.' + +Alfred ventured to ask his trade, and was told he was being brought +up to wait on his father, who was a bricklayer, but that a ladder had +fallen with him as he was going up with a heavy load, and he had been +taken at once to the hospital. The house on which he was employed +belonged to a friend of Mr. Cope, and all in the power of this +gentleman had been done for him, but that was not much, for it was +one of the families that no one can serve; the father drank, and the +mother was forced to be out charing all day, and was so rough a +woman, that she could hardly be much comfort to poor Jem when she was +at home. + +Alfred was quite taken up with the history by this time, and kept +looking at Mr. Cope, as if he would eat it up with his eager eyes. +Ellen asked compassionately who did for the poor boy all day. + +'His mother runs in at dinner-time, if she is not at work too far +off, and he has a jug of water and a bit of bread where he can reach +them; the door is open generally, so that he can call to some of the +other lodgers, but though the house is as full as a bee-hive, often +nobody hears him. I believe his great friend is a little school- +girl, who comes and sits by him, and reads to him if she can; but she +is generally at school, or else minding the children.' + +'It must be very lonely,' said Alfred, perceiving for the first time +that there could be people worse off than himself; 'but has he no +books to read?' + +'He was so irregularly sent to school, that he could not read to +himself, even if his corner were not so dark, and the window so +dingy. My friend gave him a Bible, but he could not get on with it; +and his mother, I am sorry to say, pawned it.' + +Ellen and Alfred both cried out as if they had never heard of +anything so shocking. + +'It was grievous,' said Mr. Cope; 'but the poor things did not know +the value, and when there was scarcely a morsel of bread in the +house, there was cause enough for not judging them hardly, but I +don't think Jem would allow it now. He got some of his little +friend's easy Scripture lessons and the like, in large print, which +he croons over as he lies there alone, till one feels sure that they +are working into his heart. The people in the house say that though +he has been ill these three years, he has never spoken an ill- +tempered word; and if any one pities him, he answers, "It is the +Lord," and seems to wish for no change. He lies there between dozing +and dreaming and praying, and always seems content.' + +'Does he think he shall get well?' said Alfred, who had been +listening earnestly. + +'Oh no; there is no chance of that; it is an injury past cure. But I +suppose that while he bears the Will of God so patiently here, his +Heavenly Father makes it up to him in peacefulness of heart now, and +the hope of what is to come hereafter.' + +Alfred made no answer, but his eyes shewed that he was thinking; and +Mr. Cope rose, and looked out of window, as a gleam of sunshine, +while the dark cloud lifted up from the north-west, made the trees +and fields glow with intense green against the deep grey of the sky, +darker than ever from the contrast. Ellen stood up, and Alfred +exclaimed, 'Oh Sir, please come again soon!' + +'Very soon,' said Mr. Cope good-humouredly; 'but you've not got rid +of me yet, the rain is pretty hard still, and I see the beggarmen +dancing all down the garden-walk.' + +Alfred and Ellen smiled to hear their mother's old word for the drops +splashing up again; and Mr. Cope went on: + +'The garden looks very much refreshed by this beautiful shower. It +is in fine order. Is it the other monarch's charge?' + +'Harold's, Sir,' said Ellen. 'Yes, he takes a great pride in it, and +so did Alfred when he was well.' + +'Ah, I dare say; and it must be pleasant to you to see your brother +working in it now. I see him under that shed, and who is that lad +with him? They seem to have some good joke together.' + +'Oh,' said Ellen, 'Harold likes company, you see, Sir, and will take +up with anybody. I wish you could be so good as to speak to him, +Sir, for lads of that age don't mind women folk, you see, Sir.' + +'What? I hope his majesty does not like bad company?' said Mr. Cope, +not at all that he thought lightly of such an evil, but it was his +way to speak in that droll manner, especially as Ellen's voice was a +little bit peevish. + +'Nobody knows no harm of the chap,' said Alfred, provoked at Ellen +for what he thought unkindness in setting the clergyman at once on +his brother; but Ellen was the more displeased, and exclaimed: + +'Nor nobody knows no good. He's a young tramper that hired with +Farmer Shepherd yesterday, a regular runaway and reprobate, just out +of prison, most likely.' + +'Well, I hope not so bad as that,' said Mr. Cope, 'he's not a bad- +looking boy; but I dare say you are anxious about your brother. It +must be dull for him, to have his companion laid up;--and by the +looks of him, I dare say his spirits are sometimes too much for you,' +he added, turning to Alfred. + +'He does make a terrible racket sometimes,' said Alfred. + +'Ay, and I dare say you will try to bear with it, and not drive him +out to seek dangerous company,' said Mr. Cope; at which Alfred +blushed a little, as he remembered the morning, and that he had never +thought of this danger. + +Mr. Cope added, 'I think I shall go and talk to those two merry +fellows; I must not tire you, my lad, but I will soon come here +again;' and he took leave. + +Heartily did Ellen exclaim, 'Well, that is a nice gentleman!' and as +heartily did Alfred reply. He felt as if a new light had come in on +his life, and Mr. Cope had not said one word about patience. + +Ellen expected Mr. Cope to come back and warn her mother against Paul +Blackthorn, but she only saw him stand talking to the two lads till +he made them both grin again, and then as the rain was over, he +walked away; Paul went back to his turnips, and Harold came +thundering up-stairs in his great shoes. Alfred was cheerful, and +did not mind him now; but Ellen did, and scolded him for the quantity +of dirt he was bringing up with him from the moist garden, which was +all one steam of sweet smells, as the sun drew up the vapour after +the rain. + +'If you were coming in, you'd better have come out of the rain, not +stood idling there with that good-for-nothing lad. The new minister +said he would be after you if you were taking up with bad company.' + +'Who told you I was with bad company?' said Harold. + +'Why, I could see it! I hope he rebuked you both.' + +'He asked us if we could play at cricket--and he asked the pony's +name,' said Harold, 'if that's what you call rebuking us!' + +'And what did he say to that boy?' + +'Oh! he told him he heard he was a stranger here, like himself, and +asked how long he'd been here, and where he came from.' + +'And what did he say?' + +'He said he was from Upperscote Union--come out because he was big +enough to keep himself, and come to look for work,' said Harold. +'He's a right good chap, I'll tell you, and I'll bring him up to see +Alfy one of these days!' + +'Bring up that dirty boy! I should like to see you!' cried Ellen, +making SUCH a face. 'I don't believe a word of his coming out of the +Union. I'm sure he's run away out of gaol, by the look of him!' + +'Ellen--Harold--come down to your tea!' called Mrs. King. + +So they went down; and presently, while Mrs. King was gone up to give +Alfred his tea, there came Mrs. Shepherd bustling across, with her +black silk apron thrown over her cap with the crimson gauze ribbons. +She wanted a bit of tape, and if there were none in the shop, Harold +must match it in Elbury when he took the letters. + +Ellen was rather familiar with Mrs. Shepherd, because she made her +gowns, and they had some talk about the new clergyman. Mrs. Shepherd +did not care for clergymen much; if she had done so, she might not +have been so hard with her labourers. She was always afraid of their +asking her to subscribe to something or other, so she gave it as her +opinion, that she should never think it worth while to listen to such +a very young man as that, and she hoped he would not stay; and then +she said, 'So your brother was taking up with that come-by-chance +lad, I saw. Did he make anything out of him?' + +'He fancies him more than I like, or Mother either,' said Ellen. 'He +says he's out of Upperscote Union; but he's a thorough impudent one, +and owns he's no father nor mother, nor nothing belonging to him. I +think it is a deal more likely that he is run away from some +reformatory, or prison.' + +'That's just what I said to the farmer!' said Mrs. Shepherd. 'I said +he was out of some place of that sort. I'm sure it's a sin for the +gentlemen to be setting up such places, raising the county rates, and +pampering up a set of young rogues to let loose on us. Ay! ay! I'll +warrant he's a runaway thief! I told the farmer he'd take him to his +sorrow, but you see he is short of hands just now, and the men are so +set up and grabbing, I don't know how farmers is to live.' + +So Mrs. Shepherd went away grumbling, instead of being thankful for +the beautiful crop of hay, safely housed, before the thunder shower +which had saved the turnips from the fly. + +Ellen might have doubted whether she had done right in helping to +give the boy a bad name, but just then in came the ostler from the +Tankard with some letters. + +'Here!' he said, 'here's one from one of the gentlemen lodging here +fishing, to Cayenne. You'll please to see how much there is to pay.' + +Ellen looked at her Postal Guide, but she was quite at a fault, and +she called up-stairs to Alfred to ask if he knew where she should +look for Cayenne. He was rather fond of maps, and knew a good deal +of geography for a boy of his age, but he knew nothing about this +place, and she was just thinking of sending back the letter, to ask +the gentleman where it was, when a voice said: + +'Try Guiana, or else South America.' + +She looked up, and there were Paul's dirty face and dirtier elbows, +leaning over the half-door of the shop. + +'Why, how do you know?' she said, starting back. + +'I learnt at school, Cayenne, capital of French Guiana.' Sure enough +Cayenne had Guiana to it in her list, and the price was found out. + +But when this learned geographer advanced into the shop, and asked +for a loaf, what a hand and what a sleeve did he stretch out! Ellen +scarcely liked to touch his money, and felt all her disgust revive. +But, for all that, and for all her fear of Harold's running into +mischief, what business had she to set it about that the stranger was +an escaped convict? + +Meanwhile, Alfred had plenty of food for dreaming over his fellow +sufferer. It really seemed to quiet him to think of another in the +same case, and how many questions he longed to have asked Mr. Cope! +He wanted to know whether it came easier to Jem to be patient than to +himself; whether he suffered as much wearing pain; whether he grieved +over the last hope of using his limbs; and above all, the question he +knew he never could bear to ask, whether Jem had the dread of death +to scare his thoughts, though never confessed to himself. + +He longed for Mr. Cope's next visit, and felt strongly drawn towards +that thought of Jem, yet ashamed to think of himself as so much less +patient and submissive; so little able to take comfort in what seemed +to soothe Jem, that it was the Lord's doing. Could Jem think he had +been a wicked boy, and take it as punishment? + + + +CHAPTER IV--PAUL BLACKTHORN + + + +'I say,' cried Harold, running up into his brother's room, as soon as +he had put away the pony, 'do you know whether Paul is gone?' + +'It is always Paul, Paul!' exclaimed Ellen; 'I'm sure I hope he is.' + +'But why do you think he would be?' asked Alfred. + +'Oh, didn't you hear? He knows no more than a baby about anything, +and so he turned the cows into Darnel meadow, and never put the +hurdle to stop the gap--never thinking they could get down the bank; +so the farmer found them in the barley, and if he did not run out +against him downright shameful--though Paul up and told him the +truth, that 'twas nobody else that did it.' + +'What, and turned him off?' + +'Well, that's what I want to know,' said Harold, going on with his +tea. 'Paul said to me he didn't know how he could stand the like of +that--and yet he didn't like to be off--he'd taken a fancy to the +place, you see, and there's me, and there's old Caesar--and so he +said he wouldn't go unless the farmer sent him off when he came to be +paid this evening--and old Skinflint has got him so cheap, I don't +think he will.' + +'For shame, Harold; don't call names!' + +'Well, there he is,' said Alfred, pointing into the farmyard, towards +the hay-loft door. This was over the cow-house in the gable end; and +in the dark opening sat Paul, his feet on the top step of the ladder, +and Caesar, the yard-dog, lying by his side, his white paws hanging +down over the edge, his sharp white muzzle and grey prick ears turned +towards his friend, and his eyes casting such appealing looks, that +he was getting more of the hunch of bread than probably Paul could +well spare. + +'How has he ever got the dog up the ladder?' cried Harold. + +'Well!' said Mrs. King, 'I declare he looks like a picture I have +seen--' + +'Well, to be sure! who would go for to draw a picture of the like of +that!' exclaimed Ellen, pausing as she put on her things to carry +home some work. + +'It was a picture of a Spanish beggar-boy,' said Mrs. King; 'and the +housekeeper at Castlefort used to say that the old lord--that's Lady +Jane's brother--had given six hundred pounds for it.' + +Ellen set out on her walk with a sound of wonder quite beyond words. +Six hundred pounds for a picture like Paul Blackthorn! She did not +know that so poor and feeble are man's attempts to imitate the daily +forms and colourings fresh from the Divine Hand, that a likeness of +the very commonest sight, if represented with something of its true +spirit and life, wins a strange value, especially if the work of the +great master-artists of many years ago. + +And even the painter Murillo himself, though he might pleasantly +recall on his canvas the notion of the bright-eyed, olive-tinted lad, +resting after the toil of the day, could never have rendered the free +lazy smile on his face, nor the gleam of the dog's wistful eyes and +quiver of its eager ears, far less the glow of setting sunlight that +shed over all that warm, clear, ruddy light, so full of rest and +cheerfulness, beautifying, as it hid, so many common things: the +thatched roof of the barn, the crested hayrick close beside it; the +waggons, all red and blue, that had brought it home, and were led to +rest, the horses drooping their meek heads as they cooled their feet +among the weed in the dark pond;--the ducks moving, with low +contented quacks and quickly-wagging tails, in one long single file +to their evening foraging in the dewy meadows; the spruce younger +poultry pecking over the yard, staying up a little later than their +elders to enjoy a few leavings in peace, free from the persecutions +of the cross old king of the dung-hill;--all this left in shade, +while the ruddy light had mounted to the roofs, gave brilliance to +every round tuft of moss, and gleamed on the sober foliage of the old +spreading walnut tree. + +'Poor lad,' said Mrs. King, 'it seems a pity he should come to such a +rough life, when he seems to have got such an education! I hope he +is not run away from anywhere.' + +'You're as bad as Ellen, mother,' cried Harold, 'who will have it +that he's out of prison.' + +'No, not that,' said Mrs. King; 'but it did cross me whether he could +have run away from school, and if his friends were in trouble for +him.' + +'He never had any friends,' said Harold, 'nor he never ran away. +He's nothing but a foundling. They picked him up under a blackthorn +bush when he was a baby, with nothing but a bit of an old plaid shawl +round him.' + +'Did they ever know who he belonged to?' asked Alfred. + +'Never; nor he doesn't care if they don't, for sure they could be no +credit to him; but they that found him put him into the Union, and +there an old woman, that they called Granny Moll, took to him. She +had but one eye, he says; but, Mother, I do believe he never had +another friend like her, for he got to pulling up the bits of grass, +and was near crying when he said she was dead and gone, and then he +didn't care for nothing.' + +'But who taught him about Cayenne?' asked Alfred. + +'Oh, that was the Union School. All the children went to school, and +they had a terrible sharp master, who used to cut them over the head +quite cruel, and was sent away at last for being such a savage; but +Paul being always there, and having nothing else to do, you see, got +on ever so far, and can work sums in his head downright wonderful. +There came an inspector once who praised him up, and said he'd +recommend him to a place where he'd be taught to be a school-master, +if any one would pay the cost; but the guardians wouldn't hear of it +at no price, and were quite spiteful to find he was a good scholar, +for fear, I suppose, that he'd know more than they.' + +'Hush, hush, Harold,' said his mother; 'wait till you have to pay the +rates before you run out against the guardians.' + +'What do you mean, Mother?' + +'Why, don't you see, the guardians have their duties to those who pay +the rates, as well as those that have parish pay. What they have to +do, is to mind that nobody starves, or the like; and their means +comes out of the rates, out of my pocket, and the like of me, as well +as my Lady's and all the rich. Well, whatever they might like to do, +it would not be serving us fairly to take more than was a bare +necessity from us, to send your Master Paul and the like of him to a +fine school. 'Tis for them to be just, and other folk to be generous +with what's their own.' + +'Mother talks as if she was a guardian herself!' said Alfred in his +funny way. + +'Ah, the collector's going his rounds,' responded Harold; and Mrs. +King laughed good-humouredly, always glad to see her sick boy able to +enjoy himself; but she sighed, saying, 'Ay, and ill can I spare it, +though thanks be to God that I've been as yet of them that pay, and +not of them that receive.' + +'Go on the parish! Mother, what are you thinking of?' cried both +sons indignantly. + +Poor Mrs. King was thinking of the long winter, and the heavy +doctor's bill, and feeling that, after all, suffering and humbling +might not be so very far off; but she was too cheerful and full of +trust to dwell on the thought, so she smiled and said, 'I only said I +was thankful, boys, for the mercy that has kept us up. Go on now, +Harold; what about the boy?' + +'Why, I don't know that he'd have gone if they had paid his expenses +ever so much,' said Harold, 'for he's got a great spirit of his own, +and wouldn't be beholden to any one, he said, now he could keep +himself--he'd had quite enough of the parish and its keep; so he said +he'd go on the tramp till he got work; and they let him out of the +Union with just the clothes to his back, and a shilling in his +pocket. 'Twas the first time he had ever been let out of bounds +since he was picked up under the tree; and he said no one ever would +guess the pleasure it was to have nobody to order him here and there, +and no bounds round him; and he quite hated the notion of getting +inside walls again, as if it was a prison.' + +'Oh, I know! I can fancy that!' cried Alfred, raising himself and +panting; 'and where did he go first?' + +'First, he only wanted to get as far from Upperscote as ever he +could, so he walked on; I can't say how he lived, but he didn't beg; +he got a job here and a job there; but there are not so many things +he knows the knack of, having been at school all his life. Once he +took up with a man that sold salt, to draw his cart for him, but the +man swore at him so awfully he could not bear it, and beat him too, +so he left him, and he had lived terrible hard for about a month +before he came here! So you see, Mother, there's not one bit of harm +in him; he's a right good scholar, and never says a bad word, nor has +no love for drink; so you won't be like Ellen, and be always at me +for going near him?' + +'You're getting a big boy, Harold, and it is lonely for you,' said +Mrs. King reluctantly; 'and if the lad is a good lad I'd not cast up +his misfortune against him; but I must say, I should think better of +him if he would keep himself a little bit cleaner and more decent, so +as he could go to church.' + +Harold made a very queer face, and said, 'How is he to do it up in +the hay-loft, Mother? and he ha'n't got enough to pay for lodgings, +nor for washing, nor to change.' + +'The river is cheap enough,' said Alfred. 'Do you remember when we +used to bathe together, Harold, and go after the minnows?' + +'Ay, but he don't know how; and then they did plague him so in the +Union, that he's got to hate the very name of washing--scrubbing them +over and cutting their hair as if they were in gaol.' + +'Poor boy! he is terribly forsaken,' said Mrs. King compassionately. + +'You may say that!' returned Harold; 'why, he's never so much as seen +how folks live at home, and wanted to know if you were most like old +Moll or the master of the Union!' + +Alfred went into such a fit of laughter as almost hurt him; but Mrs. +King felt the more pitiful and tender towards the poor deserted +orphan, who could not even understand what a mother was like, and the +tears came into her eyes, as she said, 'Well, I'm glad he's not a bad +boy. I hope he thinks of the Father and the Home that he has above. +I say, Harold, against next Sunday I'll look out Alfred's oldest +shirt for him to put on, and you might bring me his to wash, only +mind you soak it well in the river first.' + +Harold quite flushed with gratitude for his mother's kindness, for he +knew it was no small effort in one so scrupulously and delicately +clean, and with so much work on her hands; but Mrs. King was one who +did her alms by her trouble when she had nothing else to give. +Alfred smiled and said he wondered what Ellen would say; and almost +at the same moment Harold shot down-stairs, and was presently seen +standing upon Paul's ladder talking to him; then Paul rose up as +though to come down, and there was much fun going on, as to how +Caesar was to be got down; for, as every one knows, a dog can mount a +ladder far better than he can descend; and poor Caesar stretched out +his white paw, looked down, seemed to turn giddy, whined, and looked +earnestly at his friends till they took pity on him and lifted him +down between them, stretching out his legs to their full length, like +a live hand-barrow. + +A few seconds more, and there was a great trampling of feet, and then +in walked Harold, exclaiming, 'Here he is!' And there he stood, shy +and sheepish, with rusty black shag by way of hair, keen dark beads +of eyes, and very white teeth; but all the rest, face, hands, jacket, +trousers, shoes, and all, of darker or lighter shades of olive-brown; +and as to the rents, one would be sorry to have to count them; +mending them would have been a thing impossible. What a difference +from the pure whiteness of everything around Alfred! the soft pink of +the flush of surprise on his delicate cheek, and the wavy shine on +his light hair. A few months ago, Alfred would have been as ready as +his brother to take that sturdy hand, marbled as it was with dirt, +and would have heeded all drawbacks quite as little; but sickness had +changed him much, and Paul was hardly beside his couch before the +colour fleeted away from his cheek, and his eye turned to his mother +in such distress, that she was obliged to make a sign to Harold in +such haste that it looked like anger, and to mutter something about +his being taken worse. And while she was holding the smelling salts +to him, and sprinkling vinegar over his couch, they heard the two +boys' voices loud under the window, Paul saying he should never come +there again, and Harold something about people being squeamish and +fine. + +It hurt Alfred, and he burst out, almost crying, 'Mother! Mother, +now isn't that too bad!' + +'It is very thoughtless,' said Mrs. King sorrowfully; 'but you know +everybody has their feelings, Alfred, and I am sorry it happened so.' + +'I'm sure I couldn't help it,' said Alfred, as if his mother were +turning against him. 'Harold had better have brought up the farmer's +whole stable at once!' + +'When you were well, you did not think of such things any more than +he does.' + +Alfred grunted. He could not believe that; and he did not feel +gently when his brother shewed any want of consideration; but his +mother thought he would only grow crosser by dwelling on the unlucky +subject, so she advised him to lie still and rest before his being +moved to bed, and went down herself to finish some ironing. + +Presently Alfred saw the Curate coming over the bridge with quick +long steps, and this brought to his mind that he had been wishing to +hear more of the poor crippled boy. He watched eagerly, and was +pleased to see Mr. Cope turn in at the wicket, and presently the +tread upon the stairs was heard, and the high head was lowered at the +door. + +'Good evening, Alfred; your mother told me it would not disturb you +if I came up alone;' and he began to inquire into his amusements and +occupations, till Alfred became quite at home with him, and at ease, +and ventured to ask, 'If you please, Sir, do you ever hear about Jem +now?' and as Mr. Cope looked puzzled, 'the boy you told me of, Sir, +that fell off the scaffold.' + +'Oh, the boy at Liverpool! No, I only saw him once when I was +staying with my cousin; but I will ask after him if you wish to +hear.' + +'Thank you, Sir. I wanted to know if he had been a bad boy.' + +'That I cannot tell. Why do you wish to know? Was it because he had +such an affliction?' + +'Yes, Sir.' + +'I don't think that is quite the way to look at troubles,' said Mr. +Cope. 'I should think his accident had been a great blessing to him, +if it took him out of temptation, and led him to think more of God.' + +'But isn't it punishment?' said Alfred, not able to get any farther; +but Mr. Cope felt that he was thinking of himself more than of Jem. + +'All our sufferings in this life come as punishment of sin,' he said. +'If there had been no sin, there would have been no pain; and +whatever we have to bear in this life is no more than is our due, +whatever it may be.' + +'Every one is sinful,' said Alfred slowly; 'but why have some more to +bear than others that may be much worse?' + +'Did you never think it hard to be kept strictly, and punished by +your good mother?' + +Alfred answered rather fretfully, 'But if it is good to be punished, +why ain't all alike?' + +'God in His infinite wisdom sees the treatment that each particular +nature needs. Some can be better trained by joy, and some by grief; +some may be more likely to come right by being left in active health; +others, by being laid low, and having their faults brought to mind.' + +Alfred did not quite choose to take this in, and his answer was half +sulky: + +'Bad boys are quite well!' + +'And a reckoning will be asked of them. Do not think of other boys. +Think over your past life, of which I know nothing, and see whether +you can believe, after real looking into it, that you have done +nothing to deserve God's displeasure. There are other more +comforting ways of bringing joy out of pain; but of this I am sure, +that none will come home to us till we own from the bottom of our +heart, that whatever we suffer in this life, we suffer most justly +for the punishment of our sins. God bless and help you, my poor boy. +Good night.' + +With these words he went down-stairs, for well he knew that while +Alfred went on to justify himself, no peace nor joy could come to +him, and he thought it best to leave the words to work in, praying in +his heart that they might do so, and help the boy to humility and +submission. + +Finding Mrs. King in her kitchen, he paused and said, 'We shall have +a Confirmation in the spring, Mrs. King; shall not you have some +candidates for me?' + +'My daughter will be very glad, thank you, Sir; she is near to +seventeen, and a very good girl to me. And Harold, he is but +fourteen--would he be old enough, Sir?' + +'I believe the Bishop accepts boys as young; and he might be started +in life before another opportunity.' + +'Well, Sir, he shall come to you, and I hope you won't think him too +idle and thoughtless. He's a good-hearted boy, Sir; but it is a +charge when a lad has no father to check him.' + +'Indeed it is, Mrs. King; but I think you must have done your best.' + +'I hope I have, Sir,' she said sadly; 'I've tried, but my ability is +not much, and he is a lively lad, and I'm sometimes afraid to be too +strict with him.' + +'If you have taught him to keep himself in order, that's the great +thing, Mrs. King; if he has sound principles, and honours you, I +would hope much for him.' + +'And, Sir, that boy he has taken a fancy to; he is a poor lost lad +who never had a home, but Harold says he has been well taught, and he +might take heed to you.' + +'Thank you, Mrs. King; I will certainly try to speak to him. You +said nothing of Alfred; do you think he will not be well enough?' + +'Ah! Sir,' she said in her low subdued voice, 'my mind misgives me +that it is not for Confirmation that you will be preparing him.' + +Mr. Cope started. He had seen little of illness, and had not thought +of this. 'Indeed! does the doctor think so ill of him? Do not these +cases often partially recover?' + +'I don't know, Sir; Mr. Blunt does not give much account of him,' and +her voice grew lower and lower; 'I've seen that look in his father's +and his brother's face.' + +She hid her face in her handkerchief as if overpowered, but looked up +with the meek look of resignation, as Mr. Cope said in a broken +voice, 'I had not expected--you had been much tried.' + +'Yes, Sir. The Will of the Lord be done,' she said, as if willing to +turn aside from the dark side of the sorrow that lay in wait for her; +'but I'm thankful you are come to help my poor boy now--he frets over +his trouble, as is natural, and I'm afraid he should offend, and I'm +no scholar to know how to help him.' + +'You can help him by what is better than scholarship,' said Mr. Cope; +and he shook her hand warmly, and went away, feeling what a +difference there was in the ways of meeting affliction. + + + +CHAPTER V--AN UNWELCOME VISITOR + + + +'The axe is laid to the root of the tree,' was said by the Great +Messenger, when the new and better Covenant was coming to pierce, +try, and search into, the hearts of men. + +Something like this always happens, in some measure, whenever closer, +clearer, and more stringent views of faith and of practice are +brought home to Christians. They do not always take well the finding +that more is required of them than they have hitherto fancied +needful; and there are many who wince and murmur at the sharp +piercing of the weapon which tries their very hearts; they try to +escape from it, and to forget the disease that it has touched, and at +first, often grow worse rather than better. Well is it for them if +they return while yet there is time, before blindness have come over +their eyes, and hardness over their heart. + +Perhaps this was the true history of much that grieved poor Mrs. +King, and distressed Ellen, during the remainder of the summer. +Anxious as Mrs. King had been to bring her sons up in the right way, +there was something in Mr. Cope's manner of talking to them that +brought things closer home to them, partly from their being put in a +new light, and partly from his being a man, and speaking with a +different kind of authority. + +Alfred did not like his last conversation--it was little more than +his mother and Miss Selby had said--but then he had managed to throw +it off, and he wanted to do so again. It was pleasanter to him to +think himself hardly treated, than to look right in the face at all +his faults; he knew it was of no use to say he had none, so he lumped +them all up by calling himself a sinful creature, like every one +else; and thus never felt the weight of them at all, because he never +thought what they were. + +And yet, because Mr. Cope's words had made him uneasy, he could not +rest in this state; he was out of temper whenever the Curate's name +was spoken, and accused Ellen of bothering about him as much as +Harold did about Paul Blackthorn; and if he came to see him, he made +himself sullen, and would not talk, sometimes seeming oppressed and +tired, and unable to bear any one's presence, sometimes leaving Ellen +to do all the answering, dreading nothing so much as being left alone +with the clergyman. Mr. Cope had offered to read prayers with him, +and he could not refuse; but he was more apt to be thinking that it +was tiresome, than trying to enter into what, poor foolish boy, would +have been his best comfort. + +To say he was cross when Mr. Cope was there, would be saying much too +little; there was scarcely any time when he was not cross; he was +hardly civil even to Miss Jane, so that she began to think it was +unpleasant to him to have her there; and if she were a week without +calling, he grumbled hard thoughts about fine people; he was fretful +and impatient with the doctor; and as to those of whom he had no +fears, he would have been quite intolerable, had they loved him less, +or had less pity on his suffering. + +He never was pleased with anything; teased his mother half the night, +and drove Ellen about all day. She, good girl, never said one word +of impatience, but bore it all with the sweetest good humour; but her +mother now and then spoke severely for Alfred's own good, and then he +made himself more miserable than ever, and thought she was unkind and +harsh, and that he was very much to be pitied for having a mother who +could not bear with her poor sick boy. He was treating his mother as +he was treating his Father in Heaven. + +How Harold fared with him may easily be guessed--how the poor boy +could hardly speak or step without being moaned at, till he was +almost turned out of his own house; and his mother did not know what +to do, for Alfred was really very ill, and fretting made him worse, +and nothing could be so bad for his brother as being driven out from +home, to spend the long summer evenings as he could. + +Ellen would have been thankful now, had Paul Blackthorn been the +worst company into which Harold fell. Not that Paul was a bit +cleaner; on the contrary, each day could not fail to make him worse, +till, as Ellen had once said, you might almost grow a crop of +radishes upon his shoulders. + +Mrs. King's kind offer of washing his shirt had come to nothing. She +asked Harold about it, and had for answer, 'Do you think he would, +after the way you served him?' + +Either he was affronted, or he was ashamed of her seeing his rags, +or, what was not quite impossible, there was no shirt at all in the +case; and he had a sturdy sort of independence about him, that made +him always turn surly at any notion of anything being done for him +for charity. + +How or why he stayed on with the farmer was hard to guess, for he had +very scanty pay, and rough usage; the farmer did not like him; the +farmer's wife scolded him constantly, and laid on his shoulders all +the mischief that was done about the place; and the shuffler gave him +half his own work to do, and hunted him about from dawn till past +sunset. He was always going at the end of every week, but never +gone; perhaps he had undergone too much in his wanderings, to be +ready to begin them again; or perhaps either Caesar or Harold, one or +both, kept him at Friarswood. And there might be another reason, +too, for no one had ever spoken to him like Mr. Cope. Very few had +ever thrown him a kindly word, or seemed to treat him like a thing +with feelings, and those few had been rough and unmannerly; but Mr. +Cope's good-natured smile and pleasant manner had been a very +different thing; and perhaps Paul promised to come to the +Confirmation class, chiefly because of the friendly tone in which he +was invited. + +When there, he really liked it. He had always liked what he was +taught, apart from the manner of teaching; and now both manner and +lessons were delightful to him. His answers were admirable, and it +was not all head knowledge, for very little more than a really kind +way of putting it was needed, to make him turn in his loneliness to +rest in the thought of the ever-present Father. Hard as the +discipline of his workhouse home had been, it had kept him from much +outward harm; the little he had seen in his wanderings had shocked +him, and he was more untaught in evil than many lads who thought +themselves more respectable, so there was no habit of wickedness to +harden and blunt him; and the application of all he had learnt +before, found his heart ready. + +He had not gone to church since he left the workhouse: he did not +think it belonged to vagabonds like him; besides, he always felt +walls like a prison; and he had not profited much by the workhouse +prayers, which were read on week-days by the master, and on Sundays +by a chaplain, who always had more to do than he could manage, and +only went to the paupers when they were very ill. But when Mr. Cope +talked to him of the duty of going to church, he said, 'I will, Sir;' +and he sat in the gallery with the young lads, who were not quite as +delicate as Alfred. + +The service seemed to rest him, and to be like being brought near a +friend; and he had been told that church might always be his home. +He took a pleasure in going thither--the more, perhaps, that he +rather liked to shew how little he cared for remarks upon his +appearance. There was a great deal of independence about him; and, +having escaped from the unloving maintenance of the parish, while he +had as yet been untaught what affection or gratitude meant, he WOULD +not be beholden to any one. + +Scanty as were his wages, he would accept nothing from anybody; he +daily bought his portion of bread from Mrs. King, but it was of no +use for her to add a bit of cheese or bacon to it; he never would see +the relish, and left it behind; and so he never would accept Mr. +Cope's kind offers of giving him a bit of supper in his kitchen, +perhaps because he was afraid of being said to go to the Rectory for +the sake of what he could get. + +He did not object to the farmer's beer, which was sometimes given him +when any unusual extra work had been put on him. That was his right, +for in truth the farmer did not pay him the value of his labour, and +perhaps disliked him the more, because of knowing in his conscience +that this was shameful extortion. + +However, just at harvest time, when Paul's shoes had become very like +what may be sometimes picked up by the roadside, Mr. Shepherd did +actually bestow on him a pair that did not fit himself! Harold came +home quite proud of them. + +However, on the third day they were gone, and the farmer's voice was +heard on the bridge, rating Paul violently for having changed them +away for drink. + +Mrs. King felt sorrowful; but, as Ellen said, 'What could you expect +of him?' In spite of the affront, there was a sort of acquaintance +now over the counter between Mrs. King and young Blackthorn; and when +he came for his bread, she could not help saying, 'I'm sorry to see +you in those again.' + +'Why, the others hurt me so, I could hardly get about,' said Paul. + +'Ah! poor lad, I suppose your feet has got spread with wearing those +old ones; but you should try to use yourself to decent ones, or +you'll soon be barefoot; and I do think it was a pity to drink them +up.' + +'That's all the farmer, Ma'am. He thinks one can't do anything but +drink.' + +'Well, what is become of them?' + +'Why, you see, Ma'am, they just suited Dick Royston, and he wanted a +pair of shoes, and I wanted a Bible and Prayer-book, so we changed +'em.' + +When Ellen heard this, she could not help owning that Paul was a good +boy after all, though it was in an odd sort of way. But, alas! when +next he was to go to Mr. Cope, there was a hue-and-cry all over the +hay-loft for the Prayer-book. There was no place to put it safely, +or if there had been, Poor Paul was too great a sloven to think of +any such thing; and as it was in a somewhat rubbishy state to begin +with, it was most likely that one of the cows had eaten it with her +hay; and all that could be said was, that it would have been worse if +it had been the Bible. + +As to Dick Royston, to find that he would change away his Bible for a +pair of shoes, made Mrs. King doubly concerned that he should be a +good deal thrown in Harold's way. There are many people who neglect +their Bibles, and do not read them; but this may be from +thoughtlessness or press of care, and is not like the wilful breaking +with good, that it is to part with the Holy Scripture, save under the +most dire necessity; and Dick was far from being in real want, nor +was he ignorant, like Mr. Cope's poor Jem, for he had been to school, +and could read well; but he was one of those many lads, who, alas! +are everywhere to be found, who break loose from all restraint as +soon as they can maintain themselves. They do their work pretty +well, and are tolerably honest; but for the rest--alas! they seem to +live without God. Prayers and Church they have left behind, as +belonging to school-days; and in all their strength and health, their +days of toil, their evenings of rude diversion, their Sundays of +morning sleep, noonday basking in the sun, evening cricket, they have +little more notion of anything concerning their souls than the horses +they drive. If ever a fear comes over them, it seems a long long way +off, a whole life-time before them; they are awkward, and in dread of +one another's jeers and remarks; and if they ever wish to be better, +they cast it from them by fancying that time must steady them when +they have had their bit of fun, or that something will come from +somewhere to change them all at once, and make it easy to them to be +good--as if they were not making it harder each moment. + +This sort of lad had been utterly let alone till Mr. Cope came; and +Lady Jane and the school-master felt it was dreary work to train up +nice lads in the school, only to see them run riot, and forget all +good as soon as they thought themselves their own masters. + +Mr. Cope was anxious to do the best he could for them, and the +Confirmation made a good opportunity; but the boys did not like to be +interfered with--it made them shy to be spoken to; and they liked +lounging about much better than having to poke into that mind of +theirs, which they carried somewhere about them, but did not like to +stir up. They had no notion of going to school again--which no one +wanted them to do--nor to church, because it was like little boys; +and they wouldn't be obliged. + +So Mr. Cope made little way with them; a few who had better parents +came regularly to him, but others went off when they found it too +much trouble, and behaved worse than ever by way of shewing they did +not care. This folly had in some degree taken possession of Harold; +and though he could not be as bad as were some of the others, he was +fast growing impatient of restraint, and worried and angry, as if any +word of good advice affronted him. Driven from home by the fear of +disturbing Alfred, he was left the more to the company of boys who +made him ashamed of being ordered by his mother; and there was a +jaunty careless style about all his ways of talking and moving, that +shewed there was something wrong about him--he scorned Ellen, and was +as saucy as he dared even to his mother; and though Mr. Cope found +him better instructed than most of his scholars, he saw him quite as +idle, as restless at church, and as ready to whisper and grin at +improper times, as many who had never been trained like him. + +One August Sunday afternoon, Mrs. King was with Alfred while Ellen +was at church. He was lying on his couch, very uncomfortable and +fretful, when to the surprise of both, a knock was heard at the door. +Mrs. King looked out of the window, and a smart, hard-looking, +pigeon's-neck silk bonnet at once nodded to her, and a voice said, +'I've come over to see you, Cousin King, if you'll come down and let +me in. I knew I should find you at home.' + +'Betsey Hardman!' exclaimed Alfred, in dismay; 'you won't let her +come up here, Mother?' + +'Not if I can help it,' said Mrs. King, sighing. If there were a +thing she disliked above all others, it was Sunday visiting. + +'You must help it, Mother,' said Alfred, in his most pettish tones. +'I won't have her here, worrying with her voice like a hen cackling. +Say you won't let her come her!' + +'Very well,' said Mrs. King, in doubt of her own powers, and in haste +to be decently civil. + +'Say you won't,' repeated Alfred. 'Gadding about of a Sunday, and +leaving her old sick mother--more shame for her! Promise, Mother!' + +He had nearly begun to cry at his mother's unkindness in running +down-stairs without making the promise, for, in fact, Mrs. King had +too much conscience to gain present quiet for any one by promises she +might be forced to break; and Betsey Hardman was only too well known. + +Her mother was an aunt of Alfred's father, an old decrepit widow, +nearly bed-ridden, but pretty well to do, by being maintained chiefly +by her daughter, who made a good thing of taking in washing in the +suburbs of Elbury, and always had a girl or two under her. She had +neither had the education, nor the good training in service, that had +fallen to Mrs. King's lot; and her way of life did not lead to +softening her tongue or temper. Ellen called her vulgar, and though +that is not a nice word to use, she was coarse in her ways of talking +and thinking, loud-voiced, and unmannerly, although meaning to be +very good-natured. + +Alfred lay in fear of her step, ten times harder than Harold's in his +most boisterous mood, coming clamp clamp! up the stairs; and her +shrill voice--the same tone in which she bawled to her deaf mother, +and hallooed to her girls when they were hanging out the clothes in +the high wind--coming pitying him--ay, and perhaps her whole weight +lumbering down on the couch beside him, shaking every joint in his +body! His mother's ways, learnt in the Selby nursery, had made him +more tender, and more easily fretted by such things, than most +cottage lads, who would have been used to them, and never have +thought of not liking to have every neighbour who chose running up +into the room, and talking without regard to subject or tone. + +He listened in a fright to the latch of the door, and the coming in. +Betsey's voice came up, through every chink of the boards, whatever +she did herself; and he could hear every word of her greeting, as she +said how it was such a fine day, she said to Mother she would take a +holiday, and come and see Cousin King and the poor lad: it must be +mighty dull for him, moped up there. + +Stump! stump! Was she coming? His mother was answering something +too soft for him to hear. + +'What, is he asleep?' + +'O Mother, must you speak the truth?' + +'Bless me! I should have thought a little cheerful company was good +for him. Do you leave him quite alone? Well--' and there was a +frightful noise of the foot of the heaviest chair on the floor. +'I'll sit down and wait a bit! Is he so very fractious, then?' + +What was his mother saying? Alfred clenched his fist, and grinned +anger at Betsey with closed teeth. There was the tiresome old word, +'Low--ay, so's my mother; but you should rise his spirits with +company, you see; that's why I came over; as soon as ever I heard +that there wasn't no hope of him, says I to Mother--' + +What? What was that she had heard? There was his mother, probably +trying to restrain her voice, for it came up now just loud enough to +make it most distressing to try to catch the words, which sounded +like something pitying. 'Ay, ay--just like his poor father; when +they be decliny, it will come out one ways or another; and says I to +Mother, I'll go over and cheer poor Cousin King up a bit, for you +see, after all, if he'd lived, he'd be nothing but a burden, crippled +up like that; and a lingering job is always bad for poor folks.' + +Alfred leant upon his elbow, his eyes full stretched, but feeling as +if all his senses had gone into his ears, in his agony to hear more; +and he even seemed to catch his mother's voice, but there was no hope +in that; it was of her knowing it would be all for the best; and the +sadness of it told him that she believed the same as Betsey. Then +came, 'Yes; I declare it gave me such a turn, you might have knocked +me down with a feather. I asked Mr. Blunt to come in and see what's +good for Mother, she feels so weak at times, and has such a noise in +her head, just like the regiment playing drums, she says, till she +can't hardly bear herself; and so what do you think he says? Don't +wrap up her head so warm, says he--a pretty thing for a doctor to +say, as if a poor old creature like that, past seventy years old, +could go without a bit of flannel to her head, and her three night- +caps, and a shawl over them when there's a draught. I say, Cousin, I +ha'n't got much opinion of Mr. Blunt. Why don't you get some of them +boxes of pills, that does cures wonderful? Ever so many lords and +ladies cured of a perplexity fit, by only just taking an imposing +draught or two.' + +Another time Alfred would have laughed at the very imposing draught, +that was said to cure lords and ladies of this jumble between +apoplexy and paralysis; but this was no moment for laughing, and he +was in despair at fancying his mother wanted to lead her off on the +quack medicine; but she went on. + +'Well, only read the papers that come with them. I make my girl +Sally read 'em all to me, being that she's a better scholar; and the +long words is quite heavenly--I declare there ain't one of them +shorter than peregrination. I'd have brought one of them over to +shew you if I hadn't come away in a hurry, because Evans's cart was +going out to the merry orchard, and says I to Mother, Well, I'll get +a lift now there's such a chance to Friarswood: it'll do them all a +bit of good to see a bit of cheerful company, seeing, as Mr. Blunt +says, that poor lad is going after his father as fast as can be. +Dear me, says I, you don't say so, such a fine healthy-looking chap +as he was. Yes, he says, but it's in the constitution; it's getting +to the lungs, and he'll never last out the winter.' + +Alfred listened for the tone of his mother's voice; he knew he should +judge by that, even without catching the words--low, subdued, sad--he +almost thought she began with 'Yes.' + +All the rest that he heard passed by him merely as a sound, noted no +more than the lowing of the cattle, or the drone of the thrashing +machine. He lay half lifted up on his pillows, drawing his breath +short with apprehension; his days were numbered, and death was coming +fast, fast, straight upon him. He felt it within himself--he knew +now the meaning of the pain and sinking, the shortness of breath and +choking of throat that had been growing on him through the long +summer days; he was being 'cut off with pining sickness,' and his +sentence had gone forth. He would have screamed for his mother in +the sore terror and agony that had come over him, in hopes she might +drive the notion from him; but the dread of seeing her followed by +that woman kept his lips shut, except for his long gasps of breath. + +And she could not keep him--Mr. Blunt could not keep him; no one +could stay the hand that had touched him! Prayer! They had prayed +for his father, for Charlie, but it had not been God's Will. He had +himself many times prayed to recover, and it had not been granted--he +was worse and worse. + +Moreover, whither did that path of suffering lead? Up rose before +Alfred the thought of living after the unknown passage, and of +answering for all he had done; and now the faults he had refused to +call to mind when he was told of chastisement, came and stood up of +themselves. Bred up to know the good, he had not loved it; he had +cared for his own pleasure, not for God; he had not heeded the +comfort of his widowed mother; he had been careless of the honour of +God's House, said and heard prayers without minding them; he had been +disrespectful and ill-behaved at my Lady's--he had been bad in every +way; and when illness came, how rebellious and murmuring he had been, +how unkind he had been to his patient mother, sister, and brother; +and when Mr. Cope had told him it was meant to lead him to repent, he +would not hear; and now it was too late, the door would be shut. He +had always heard that there was a time when sorrow was no use, when +the offer of being saved had been thrown away. + +When Ellen came in, and after a short greeting to Betsey Hardman, +went up-stairs, she found Alfred lying back on his pillow, deadly +white, the beads of dew standing on his brow, and his breath in +gasps. She would have shrieked for her mother, but he held out his +hand, and said, in a low hoarse whisper, 'Ellen, is it true?' + +'What, Alfy dear? What is the matter?' + +'What SHE says.' + +'Who? Betsey Hardman? Dear dear Alf, is it anything dreadful?' + +'That I shall die,' said Alfred, his eyes growing round with terror +again. 'That Mr. Blunt said I couldn't last out the winter.' + +'Dear Alfy, don't!' cried Ellen, throwing her arms round him, and +kissing him with all her might; 'don't fancy it! She's always +gossiping and gadding about, and don't know what she says, and she'd +got no business to tell stories to frighten my darling!' she +exclaimed, sobbing with agitation. 'I'm sure Mr. Blunt never said no +such thing!' + +'But Mother thinks it, Ellen.' + +'She doesn't, she can't!' cried Ellen vehemently; 'I know she +doesn't, or she could never go about as she does. I'll call her up +and ask her, to satisfy you.' + +'No, no, not while that woman is there!' cried Alfred, holding her by +the dress; 'I'll not have HER coming up.' + +Even while he spoke, however, Mrs. King was coming. Betsey had spied +an old acquaintance on the way from church, and had popped out to +speak to her, and Mrs. King caught that moment for coming up. She +understood all, for she had been sitting in great distress, lest +Alfred should be listening to every word which she was unable to +silence, and about which Betsey was quite thoughtless. So many +people of her degree would talk to the patient about himself and his +danger, and go on constantly before him with all their fears, and the +doctor's opinions, that Betsey had never thought of there being more +consideration and tenderness shewn in this house, nor that Mrs. King +would have hidden any pressing danger from the sick person; but such +plain words had not yet passed between her and Mr. Blunt; and though +she had long felt what Alfred's illness would come to, the perception +had rather grown on her than come at any particular moment. + +Now when Ellen, with tears and agitation, asked what that Betsey had +been saying to frighten Alfred so, and when she saw her poor boy's +look at her, and heard his sob, 'Oh, Mother!' it was almost too much +for her, and she went up and kissed him, and laid him down less +uneasily, but he felt a great tear fall on his face. + +'It's not true, Mother, I'm sure it is not true,' cried Ellen; 'she +ought--' + +Mrs. King looked at her daughter with a sad sweet face, that stopped +her short, and brought the sense over her too. 'Did he say so, +Mother?' said Alfred. + +'Not to me, dear,' she answered; 'but, Ellen, she's coming back! +She'll be up here if you don't go down.' + +Poor Ellen! what would she not have given for power to listen to her +mother, and cry at her ease? But she was forced to hurry, or Betsey +would have been half-way up-stairs in another instant. She was a +hopeful girl, however, and after that 'not to me,' resolved to +believe nothing of the matter. Mrs. King knelt down by her son, and +looked at him tenderly; and then, as his eyes went on begging for an +answer, she said, 'Dr. Blunt never told me there was no hope, my +dear, and everything lies in God's power.' + +'But you don't think I shall get well, Mother?' + +'I don't feel as if you would, my boy,' she said, very low, and +fondling him all the time. 'You've got to cough like Father and +Charlie, and--though He might raise my boy up--yet anyhow, Alfy boy, +if God sees it good for us, it WILL be good for us, and we shall be +helped through with it.' + +'But I'm not good, Mother! What will become of me?' + +'Perhaps the hearing this is all out of God's mercy, to give you time +to get ready, my dear. You are no worse now than you were this +morning; you are not like to go yet awhile. No, indeed, my child; so +if you don't put off any longer--' + +'Mother!' called up Ellen. She was in despair. Betsey was not to be +kept by her from satisfying herself upon Alfred's looks, and Mrs. +King was only in time to meet her on the stairs, and tell her that he +was so weak and low, that he could not be seen now, she could not +tell how it would be when he had had his tea. + +Ellen thought she had never had so distressing a tea-drinking in her +life, as the being obliged to sit listening civilly to Betsey's long +story about the trouble she had about a stocking of Mrs. Martin's +that was lost in the wash, and that had gone to Miss Rosa Marlowe, +because Mrs. Martin had her things marked with a badly-done K. E. M., +and all that Mrs. Martin's Maria and all Miss Marlowe's Jane had said +about it, and all Betsey's 'Says I to Mother,'--when she was so +longing to be watching poor Alfred, and how her mother could sit so +quietly making tea, and answering so civilly, she could not guess; +but Mrs. King had that sense of propriety and desire to do as she +would be done by, which is the very substance of Christian courtesy, +the very want of which made Betsey, with all her wish to be kind, a +real oppression and burthen to the whole party. + +And where was Harold? Ellen had not seen him coming out of church, +but meal-times were pretty certain to bring him home. + +'Oh,' said Betsey, 'I'll warrant he is off to the merry orchard.' + +'I hope not,' said Mrs. King gravely. + +'He never would,' said Ellen, in anger. + +'Ah, well, I always said I didn't see no harm in a lad getting a bit +of pleasure.' + +'No, indeed,' said Mrs. King. 'Harold knows I would not stint him in +the fruit nor in the pleasure, but I should be much vexed if he could +go out on a Sunday, buying and selling, among such a lot as meet at +that orchard.' + +'Well, I'm sure I don't know when poor folks is to have a holiday if +not on a Sunday, and the poor boy must be terrible moped with his +brother so ill.' + +'Not doing thine own pleasure on My holy day,' thought Ellen, but she +did not say it, for her mother could not bear for texts to be quoted +at people. But her heart was very heavy; and when she went up with +some tea to Alfred, she looked from the window to see whether, as she +hoped, Harold might be in Paul's hay-loft, preferring going without +his tea to being teased by Betsey. Paul sat in his loft, with his +Bible on his knee, and his head on Caesar's neck. + +'Alfred,' said Ellen, 'do you know where Harold is? Sure he is not +gone to the merry orchard?' + +'Is not he come home?' said Alfred. 'Oh, then he is! He is gone to +the merry orchard, breaking Sunday with Dick Royston! And by-and-by +he'll be ill, and die, and be as miserable as I am!' And Alfred +cried as Ellen had never seen him cry. + + + +CHAPTER VI--THE MERRY ORCHARD + + + +Where was Harold? + +Still the evening went on, and he did not come. Alfred had worn +himself out with his fit of crying, and lay quite still, either +asleep, or looking so like it, that when Betsey had finished her tea, +and again began asking to see him, Ellen could honestly declare that +he was asleep. + +Betsey had bidden them good-bye, more than half affronted at not +being able to report to her mother all about his looks, though she +carried with her a basket of gooseberries and French beans, and Mrs. +King walked all the way down the lane with her, and tried to shew an +interest in all she said, to make up for the disappointment. + +Maybe likewise Mrs. King felt it a relief to her uneasiness to look +up and down the road, and along the river, and into the farm-yard, in +the hope that Harold might be in sight; but nothing was to be seen on +the road, but Master Norland, his wife, and baby, soberly taking +their Sunday walk; nor by the river, except the ducks, who seemed to +be enjoying their evening bath, and almost asleep on the water; nor +in the yard, except Paul Blackthorn, who had come down from his perch +to drive the horses in from the home-field, and shut the stable up +for the night. + +She could not help stopping a moment at the gate, and calling out to +Paul to ask whether he had seen anything of Harold. He seemed to +have a great mind not to hear, and turned very slowly with his +shoulder towards her, making a sound like 'Eh?' as if to ask what she +said. + +'Have you seen my boy Harold?' + +'I saw him in the morning.' + +'Have you not seen him since? Didn't he go to church with you?' + +'No; I don't go to Sunday school.' + +'Was he there?' + +She did not receive any answer. + +'Do you know if many of the boys are gone to the merry orchard?' + +'Ay.' + +'Well, you are a good lad not to be one of them.' + +'Hadn't got any money,' said Paul gruffly; but Mrs. King thought he +said so chiefly from dislike to be praised, and that there had been +some principle as well as poverty to keep him away. + +'It might be better if no one had it on a Sunday,' she could not help +sighing out as she looked anxiously along the lane ere turning in, +and then said, 'My good lad, I don't want to get you to be telling +tales, but it would set my heart at rest, and his poor brother's up +there, if you could tell me he is not gone to Briar Alley.' + +Paul turned up his face from the gate upon which he was leaning his +elbows, and gazed for a moment at her sad, meek, anxious face, then +exclaimed, 'I can't think how he could!' + +Poor Paul! was it not crossing him how impossible it would seem to do +anything to vex one who so cared for him? + +'Then he is gone,' she said mournfully. + +'They were all at him,' said Paul; 'and he said he'd never seen what +it was like. Please don't take on, Missus; he's right kind and good- +hearted, and wanted to treat me.' + +'I had rather he had hearkened to you, my boy,' said Mrs. King. + +'I don't know why he should do that,' said Paul, perhaps meaning that +a boy who heeded not such a mother would certainly heed no one else. +'But please, Missus,' he added, 'don't beat him, for you made me tell +on him.' + +'Beat him! no,' said Mrs. King, with a sad smile; 'he's too big a boy +for me to manage that way. I can't do more than grieve if he lets +himself be led away.' + +'Then I'd like to beat him myself if he grieves you!' burst out Paul, +doubling up his brown fist with indignation. + +'But you won't,' said Mrs. King gently; 'I don't want to make a +quarrel among you, and I hope you'll help to keep him out of bad +ways, Paul. I look to you for it. Good-night.' + +Perhaps the darkness and her own warm feeling made her forget the +condition of that hand; at any rate, as she said Good-night she took +it in her own and shook it heartily, and then she went in. + +Paul did not say Good-night in answer; but when she had turned away, +his head went down between his two crossed arms upon the top of the +gate, and he did not move for many many minutes, except that his +shoulders shook and shook again, for he was sobbing as he had never +sobbed since Granny Moll died. If home and home love were not +matters of course to you, you might guess what strange new fountains +of feeling were stirred in the wild but not untaught boy, by that +face, that voice, that touch. + +And Mrs. King, as she walked to her own door in the twilight, with +bitter pain in her heart, could not help thinking of those from the +highways and hedges who flocked to the feast set at naught by such as +were bidden. + +A sad and mournful Sunday evening was that to the mother and +daughter, as each sat over her Bible. Mrs. King would not talk to +Ellen, for fear of awakening Alfred; not that low voices would have +done so, but Ellen was already much upset by what she had heard and +seen, and to talk it over would have brought on a fit of violent +crying; so her mother thought it safest to say nothing. They would +have read their Bible to one another, but each had her voice so +choked with tears, that it would not do. + +That Alfred was sinking away into the grave, was no news to Mrs. +King; but perhaps it had never been so plainly spoken to her before, +and his own knowledge of it seemed to make it more sure; but broken- +hearted as she felt, she had been learning to submit to this, and it +might be better and safer for him, she thought, to be aware of his +state, and more ready to do his best with the time left to him. That +was not the freshest sorrow, or more truly a darker cloud had come +over, namely, the feeling, so terrible to a good careful mother, that +her son is breaking out of the courses to which she has endeavoured +and prayed to bring him up--that he is casting off restraint, and +running into evil that may be the beginning of ruin, and with no +father's hand to hold him in. + +O Harold, had you but seen the thick tears dropping on the walnut +table behind the arm that hid her face from Ellen, you would not have +thought your fun worth them! + +That merry orchard was about three miles from Friarswood. It +belonged to a man who kept a small public-house, and had a little +farm, and a large garden, with several cherry trees, which in May +were perfect gardens of blossoms, white as snow, and in August with +small black fruit of the sort known as merries; and unhappily the +fertile produce of these trees became a great temptation to the owner +and to all the villagers around. + +As Sunday was the only day when people could be at leisure, he chose +three Sundays when the cherries were ripe for throwing open his +orchard to all who chose to come and buy and eat the fruit, and of +course cakes and drink of various kinds were also sold. It was a +solitary spot, out of the way of the police, or the selling in +church-time would have been stopped; but as there may be cases of +real distress, the law does not shut up all houses for selling food +and drink on a Sunday, so others, where there is no necessity, take +advantage of it; and so for miles round all the idle young people and +children would call it a holiday to go away from their churches to +eat cherries at Briar Alley, buying and selling on a Sunday, noisy +and clamorous, and forgetting utterly that it was the Lord's Day, not +their day of idle pleasure. + +It was a sad pity that an innocent feast of fruit should be almost +out of reach, unless enjoyed in this manner. To be sure, merries +might be bought any day of the week at Briar Alley, and were hawked +up and down Friarswood so cheaply that any one might get a mouth as +purple as the black spaniel's any day in the season; but that was +nothing to the fun of going with numbers, and numbers never could go +except on a Sunday. But if people wish to serve God truly, why, they +must make up their minds to miss pleasures for His sake, and this was +one to begin with; and I am much mistaken if the happiness of the +week would not have turned out greater in the end with him. Ay, and +as to the owner of the trees, who said he was a poor man, and could +not afford to lose the profit, I believe that if he would have +trusted God and kept His commandment, his profit in the long run +would have been greater here, to say nothing of the peril to his own +soul of doing wrong, and leading so many into temptation. + +The Kings had been bred up to think a Sunday going to the merry +orchard a thing never to be done; and in his most idle days Alfred +would never have dreamt of such a thing. Indeed, their good mother +always managed to have some treat to make up for it when they were +little; and they certainly never wanted for merries, nay, a merry +pudding had been their dinner this very day, with savage-looking +purple juice and scalding hot stones. If Harold went it was for the +frolic, not for want of the dainty; and wrong as it was, his mother +was grieving more at the thought of his casting away the restraint of +his old habits than for the one action. One son going away into the +unseen world, the other being led away from the paths of right--no +wonder she wept as she tried to read! + +At last voices were coming, and very loud ones. The summer night was +so still, they could be heard a great way--those rude coarse voices +of village boys boasting and jeering one another. + +'I say, wouldn't you like to be one of they chaps at Ragglesford +School?' + +'What lots they bought there on Saturday, to be sure!' + +'Well they may: they've lots of tin!' + +'Have they? How d'ye know?' + +'Why, the money-letters! Don't I know the feel of them--directed to +master this and master that, and with a seal and a card, and half a +sovereign, or maybe a whole one, under it; and such lots as they gets +before the holidays--that's to go home, you see.' + +'Well, it's a shame such little impudent rogues should get so much +without ever doing a stroke of work for it.' + +'I say, Harold, don't ye never put one of they letters in your +pocket?' + +'For shame, Dick!' + +'Ha! I shall know where to come when I wants half a sovereign or +so!' + +'No, you won't.' + +It was only these last two or three speeches that reached the cottage +at all clearly; and they were followed by a sound as if Harold had +fallen upon one of the others, and they were holding him off, with +halloos and shouts of hoarse laughing, which broke Alfred's sleep, +and his voice came down-stairs with a startled cry of 'Mother! +Mother! what is that?' She ran up-stairs in haste, and Ellen threw +the door open. The sudden display of the light silenced the noisy +boys; and Harold came slowly up the garden-path, pretty certain of a +scolding, and prepared to feel it as little as he could help. + +'Well, Master, a nice sort of a way of spending a Sunday evening +this!' began Ellen; 'and coming hollaing up the lane, just on purpose +to wake poor Alfred, when he's so ill!' + +'I'm sure I never meant to wake him.' + +'Then what did you bring all that good-for-nothing set roaring and +shouting up the road for? And just this evening, too, when one would +have thought you would we have cared for poor Mother and Alfred,' +said she, crying. + +'Why, what's the matter now?' said Harold. + +'Oh, they've been saying he can't live out the winter,' said Ellen, +shedding the tears that had been kept back all this time, and broke +out now with double force, in her grief for one brother and vexation +with the other. + +But next winter seemed a great way off to Harold, and he was put out +besides, so he did not seem shocked, especially as he was reproached +with not feeling what he did not know; so all he did was to say +angrily, 'And how was I to know that?' + +'Of course you don't know anything, going scampering over the country +with the worst lot you can find, away from church and all, not caring +for anything! Poor Mother! she never thought one of her lads would +come to that!' + +'Plenty does so, without never such a fuss,' said Harold. 'Why, what +harm is there in eating a few cherries?' + +There would be very little pleasure or use in knowing what a +wrangling went on all the time Mrs. King was up-stairs putting Alfred +to bed. Ellen had all the right on her side, but she did not use it +wisely; she was very unhappy, and much displeased with Harold, and so +she had it all out in a fretful manner that made him more cross and +less feeling than was his nature. + +There was something he did feel, however--and that was his mother's +pale, worn, sorrowful face, when she came down-stairs and hushed +Ellen, but did not speak to him. They took down the books, read +their chapter, and she read prayers very low, and not quite steadily. +He would have liked very much to have told her he felt sorry, but he +was too proud to do so after having shewn Ellen he was above caring +for such nonsense. + +So they all went to bed, Harold on a little landing at the top of the +stairs; but--whether it was from the pounds of merry-stones he had +swallowed, or the talk he had had with his sister--he could not go to +sleep, and lay tossing and tumbling about, thinking it very odd he +had not heeded more what Ellen had said when he first came in, and +the notion dawning on him more and more, that day after day would +come and make Alfred worse, and that by the time summer came again he +should be alone. Who could have said it? Why had not he asked? +What could he have been thinking about? It should not be true! A +sort of frenzy to speak to some one, and hear the real meaning of +those words, so as to make sure they were only Ellen's nonsense, came +over him in the silent darkness. Presently he heard Alfred moving on +his pillow, for the door was open for the heat; and that long long +sigh made him call in a whisper, 'Alf, are you awake?' + +In another moment Harold was by his brother's side. 'Alf! Alf! are +you worse?' he asked, whispering. + +'No.' + +'Then what's all this? What did they say? It's all stuff; I'm sure +it is, and you're getting better. But what did Ellen mean?' + +'No, Harold,' said Alfred, getting his brother's hand in his, 'it's +not stuff; I shan't get well; I'm going after poor Charlie; and don't +you be a bad lad, Harold, and run away from your church, for you +don't know--how bad it feels to--' and Alfred turned his face down, +for the tears were coming thick. + +'But you aren't going to die, Alf. Charlie never was like you, I +know he wasn't; he was always coughing. It is all Ellen. Who said +it? I won't let them.' + +'The doctor said it to Betsey Hardman,' said Alfred; and his cough +was only too like his brother's. + +Harold would have said a great deal in contempt of Betsey Hardman, +but Alfred did not let him. + +'You'll wake Mother,' he said. 'Hush, Harold, don't go stamping +about; I can't bear it! No, I don't want any one to tell me now; +I've been getting worse ever since I was taken, and--oh! be quiet, +Harold.' + +'I can't be quiet,' sobbed Harold, coming nearer to him. 'O Alf! I +can't spare you! There hasn't been no proper downright fun without +you, and--' + +Harold had lain down by him and clung to his hand, trying not to sob +aloud. + +'O Harold!' sighed Alfred, 'I don't think I should mind--at least not +so much--if I hadn't been such a bad boy.' + +'You, Alfy! Who was ever a good boy if you was not?' + +'Hush! You forget all about when I was up at my Lady's, and all +that. Oh! and how bad I behaved at church, and when I was so saucy +to Master about the marbles; and so often I've not minded Mother. O +Harold! and God judges one for everything!' + +What a sad terrified voice it was! + +'Oh! don't go on so, Alf! I can't bear it! Why, we are but boys; +and those things were so long ago! God will not be hard on little +boys. He is merciful, don't you know?' + +'But when I knew it was wrong, I did the worst I could!' said Alfred. +'Oh, if I could only begin all over again, now I do care! Only, +Harold, Harold, you are well; you can be good now when there's time.' + +'I'll be ever so good if you'll only get well,' said Harold. 'I +wouldn't have gone to that there place to-night; but 'tis so terribly +dull, and one must do something.' + +'But in church-time, and on Sunday!' + +'Well, I'll never do it again; but it was so sunshiny, and they were +all making such fun, you see, and it did seem so stuffy, and so long +and tiresome, I couldn't help it, you see.' + +Alfred did not think of asking how, if Harold could not help it this +time, he could be sure of never doing so again. He was more inclined +to dwell on himself, and went back to that one sentence, 'God judges +us for everything.' Harold thought he meant it for him, and +exclaimed, + +'Yes, yes, I know, but--oh, Alf, you shouldn't frighten one so; I +never meant no harm.' + +'I wasn't thinking about that,' sighed Alfred. 'I was wishing I'd +been a better lad; but I've been worse, and crosser, and more unkind, +ever since I was ill. O Harold! what shall I do?' + +'Don't go on that way,' said Harold, crying bitterly. 'Say your +prayers, and maybe you will get well; and then in the morning I'll +ask Mr. Cope to come down, and he'll tell you not to mind.' + +'I wouldn't listen to Mr. Cope when he told me to be sorry for my +sins; and oh, Harold, if we are not sorry, you know they will not be +taken away.' + +'Well, but you are sorry now.' + +'I have heard tell that there are two ways of being sorry, and I +don't know if mine is the right.' + +'I tell you I'll fetch Mr. Cope in the morning; and when the doctor +comes he'll be sure to say it is all a pack of stuff, and you need +not be fretting yourself.' + +When Harold awoke in the morning, he found himself lying wrapped in +his coverlet on Alfred's bed, and then he remembered all about it, +and looked in haste, as though he expected to see some sudden and +terrible change in his brother. + +But Alfred was looking cheerful, he had awakened without discomfort; +and with some amusement, was watching the starts and movements, the +grunts and groans, of Harold's waking. The morning air and the +ordinary look of things, had driven away the gloomy thoughts of +evening, and he chiefly thought of them as something strange and +dreadful, and yet not quite a dream. + +'Don't tell Mother,' whispered Harold, recollecting himself, and +starting up quietly. + +'But you'll fetch Mr. Cope,' said Alfred earnestly. + +Harold had begun not to like the notion of meeting Mr. Cope, lest he +should hear something of yesterday's doings, and he did not like +Alfred or himself to think of last night's alarm, so he said, 'Oh, +very well, I'll see about it.' + +He had not made up his mind. Very likely, if chance had brought him +face to face with Mr. Cope, he would have spoken about Alfred as the +best way to hinder the Curate from reproving himself; but he had not +that right sort of boldness which would have made him go to meet the +reproof he so richly deserved, and he was trying to persuade himself +either that when Alfred was amused and cheery, he would forget all +about 'that there Betsey's nonsense,' or else that Mr. Cope might +come that way of himself. + +But Alfred was not likely to forget. What he had heard hung on him +through all the little occupations of the morning, and made him meek +and gentle under them, and he was reckoning constantly upon Mr. +Cope's coming, fastening on the notion as if he were able to save +him. + +Still the Curate came not, and Alfred became grieved, feeling as if +he was neglected. + +Mr. Blunt, however, came, and at any rate he would have it out with +him; so he asked at once very straightforwardly, 'Am I going to die, +Sir?' + +'Why, what's put that in your head?' said the doctor. + +'There was a person here talking last night, Sir,' said Mrs. King. + +'Well, but am I?' said Alfred impatiently. + +'Not just yet, I hope,' said Mr. Blunt cheerfully. 'You are weak, +but you'll pick up again.' + +'But of this?' persisted Alfred, who was not to be trifled with. + +Mr. Blunt saw he must be in earnest. + +'My boy,' he said, 'I'm afraid it is not a thing to be got over. +I'll do the best I can for you, by God's blessing; and if you get +through the winter, and it is a mild spring, you might do; but you'd +better settle your mind that you can't be many years for this world.' + +Many years! that sounded like a reprieve, and sent gladness into +Ellen's heart; but somehow it did not seem in the same light to +Alfred; he felt that if he were slowly going down hill and wasting +away, so as to have no more health or strength in which to live +differently from ever before, the length of time was not much to him, +and in his sickly impatience he would almost have preferred that it +should not be what Betsey kindly called 'a lingering job.' + +There he lay after Mr. Blunt was gone, not giving Ellen any trouble, +except by the sad thoughtfulness of his face, as he lay dwelling on +all that he wanted to say to Mr. Cope, and the terror of his sin and +of judgment sweeping over him every now and then. + +Still Mr. Cope came not. Alfred at last began to wonder aloud, and +asked if Harold had said anything about it when he came in to dinner; +but he heard that Harold had only rushed in for a moment, snatched up +a lump of bread and cheese, and made off to the river with some of +the lads who meant to spend the noon-tide rest in bathing. + +When he came for the evening letters he was caught, and Mr. Cope was +asked for; and then it came out that Harold had never given the +message at all. + +Alfred, greatly hurt, and sadly worn by his day of expectation, had +no self-restraint left, and flew out into a regular passion, calling +his brother angry names. Harold, just as passionate, went into a +rage too, and scolded his brother for his fancies. Mrs. King, in +great displeasure, turned him out, and he rushed off to ride like one +mad to Elbury; and poor Alfred remained so much shocked at his own +outbreak, just when he meant to have been good ever after, and +sobbing so miserably, that no one could calm him at all; and Ellen, +as the only hope, put on her bonnet to fetch Mr. Cope. + +At that moment Paul was come for his bit of bread. She found him +looking dismayed at the sounds of violent weeping from above, and he +asked what it was. + +'Oh, Alfred is so low and so bad, and he wants Mr. Cope! Here's your +bread, don't keep me!' + +'Let me go! I'll be quicker!' cried Paul; and before she could thank +him, he was down the garden and right across the first field. + +Alfred had had time to cry himself exhausted, and to be lying very +still, almost faint, before Mr. Cope came in in the summer twilight. +Good Paul! He had found that Mr. Cope was dining at Ragglesford and +had run all the way thither; and here was the kind young Curate, +quite breathless with his haste, and never regretting the cheerful +party whence he had been called away. All Alfred could say was, 'O +Sir, I shall die; and I'm a bad boy, and wouldn't heed you when you +said so.' + +'And God has made you see your sins, my poor boy,' said Mr. Cope. +'That is a great blessing.' + +'But if I can't do anything to make up for them, what's the use? And +I never shall be well again.' + +'You can't make up for them; but there is One Who has made up for +them, if you will only truly repent.' + +'I wasn't sorry till I knew I should die,' said Alfred. + +'No, your sins did not come home to you! Now, do you know what they +are?' + +'Oh yes; I've been a bad boy to Mother, and at church; and I've been +cross to Ellen, and quarrelled with Harold; and I was so audacious at +my Lady's, they couldn't keep me. I never did want really to be +good. Oh! I know I shall go to the bad place!' + +'No, Alfred, not if you so repent, that you can hold to our Blessed +Saviour's promise. There is a fountain open for sin and all +uncleanness.' + +'It is very good of Him,' said Alfred, a little more tranquilly, not +in the half-sob in which he had before spoken. + +'Most merciful!' said Mr. Cope. + +'But does it mean me?' continued Alfred. + +'You were baptized, Alfred, you have a right to all His promises of +pardon.' And he repeated the blessed sentences: + +'Come unto Me, all that travail and are heavy laden, and I will +refresh you.' + +'God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son, to the +end that all that believe in Him should not perish, but have +everlasting life.' + +'But how ought I to believe, Sir?' + +'You say you feel what your sins are; think of them all as you lie, +each one as you remember it; say it out in your heart to our Saviour, +and pray God to forgive it for His sake, and then think that it cost +some of the pain He bore on the Cross, some of the drops of His agony +in the Garden. Each sin of ours was indeed of that burden!' + +'Oh, that will make them seem so bad!' + +'Indeed it does; but how it will make you love Him, and feel thankful +to Him, and anxious not to waste the sufferings borne for your sake, +and glad, perhaps, that you are bearing some small thing yourself. +But you are spent, and I had better not talk more now. Let me read +you a few prayers to help you, and then I will leave you, and come +again to-morrow.' + +How differently those Prayers and Psalms sounded to Alfred now that +he had really a heart grieved and wearied with the burthen of sin! +The point was to make his not a frightened heart, but a contrite +heart. + + + +CHAPTER VII--HAROLD TAKES A WRONG TURN + + + +Mrs. King was very anxious about Alfred for many hours after this +visit from the Curate, for he was continually crying, not violently, +but the tears flowing quietly from his eyes as he lay, thinking. +Sometimes it was the badness of the faults as he saw them now, +looking so very different from what they did when they were committed +in the carelessness of fun and high spirits, or viewed afterwards in +the hardening light of self-justification. Now they did look so +wantonly hard and rude--unkind to his sister, ruinous to Harold, +regardless of his widowed mother, reckless of his God--that each one +seemed to cut into him with a sense of its own badness, and he was +quite as much grieved as afraid; he hated the fault, and hated +himself for it. + +Indeed, he was growing less afraid, for the sorrow seemed to swallow +that up; the grief at having offended One so loving was putting out +the terror of being punished; or rather, when he thought that this +illness was punishment, he was almost glad to have some of what he +deserved; just as when he was a little boy, he really used to be +happier afterwards for having been whipped and put in the corner, +because that was like making it up. Though he knew very well that if +he had ten thousand times worse than this to bear, it would not be +making up for his faults, and he felt now that one of them had been +his 'despising the chastening of the Lord.' And then the thought of +what had made up for it would come: and though he had known of it +all his life, and heeded it all too little, now that his heart was +tender, and he had felt some of the horror and pain of sin, he took +it all home now, and clung to it. He recollected the verses about +that One kneeling--nay, falling on the ground, in the cold dewy +night, with the chosen friends who could not watch with Him, and the +agony and misery that every one in all the world deserved to feel, +gathering on Him, Who had done no wrong, and making His brow stream +with great drops of Blood. + +And the tortures, the shame, the slow Death--circumstance after +circumstance came to his mind, and 'for me,' 'this fault of mine +helped,' would rise with it, and the tears trickled down at the +thought of the suffering and of the Love that had caused it to be +undergone. + +Once he raised up his head, and saw through the window the deep dark- +blue sky, and the stars, twinkling and sparkling away; that pale band +of light, the Milky Way, which they say is made of countless stars +too far off to be distinguished, and looking like a cloud, and on it +the larger, brighter burnished stars, differing from one another in +glory. He thought of some lines in a book Miss Jane once gave Ellen, +which said of the stars: + + +'The Lord resigned them all to gain +The bliss of pardoning thee.' + + +And when he thought that it was the King of those stars Who was +scourged and spit on, and for the sake of HIS faults, the loving +tears came again, and he turned to another hymn of Ellen's: + + +'Rock of Ages, cleft for me, +Let me hide myself in Thee!' + + +And going on with this, he fell into a more quiet sleep than he had +had for many nights. + +Alfred had worked up his mind to a point where it could not long +remain; and when he awoke in the morning, the common affairs of the +day occupied him in a way that was not hurtful to him, as the one +chief thought was ever present, only laid away for a time, and +helping him when he might have been fretful or impatient. + +He was anxious for Mr. Cope, and grateful when he saw him coming +early in the day. Mr. Cope did not, however, say anything very new. +He chiefly wished to shew Alfred that he must not think all his +struggle with sin over, and that he had nothing to do but to lie +still and be pardoned. There was much more work, as he would find, +when the present strong feeling should grow a little blunt; he would +have to keep his will bent to bear what was sent by God, and to prove +his repentance by curing himself of all his bad habits of peevishness +and exacting; to learn, in fact, to take up his cross. + +Alfred feebly promised to try, and it did not seem so difficult just +then. The days were becoming cooler, and he did not feel quite so +ill; and though he did not know how much this helped him, it made it +much easier to act on his good resolutions. Miss Selby came to see +him, and was quite delighted to see him looking so much less +uncomfortable and dismal. + +'Why, Alfred,' said she, 'you must be much better.' + +Ellen looked mournful at this, and shook her head so that Miss Jane +turned her bright face to her in alarm. + +'No, Ma'am,' said Alfred. 'Dr. Blunt says I can never get over it.' + +'And does that make you glad?' almost gasped Miss Jane. + +'No, Ma'am,' said Alfred; 'but Mr. Cope has been talking to me, and +made it all so--' + +He could not get out the words; and, besides, he saw Miss Jane's eyes +winking very fast to check the tears, and Ellen's had begun to rain +down fast. + +'I didn't mean to be silly,' said little Jane, in rather a trembling +voice; 'but I'm sorry--no--I'm glad you are happy and good, Alfred.' + +'Not good, Miss Jane,' cried Alfred; 'I'm such a bad boy, but there +are such good things as I never minded before--' + +'Well then, I think you'll like what I've brought you,' said Jane +eagerly. + +It was a little framed picture of our Blessed Lord on His Cross, all +darkness round, and the Inscription above His Head; and Miss Jane had +painted, in tall Old English red letters, under it the two words, +'For me.' + +Alfred looked at it as if indeed it would be a great comfort to him +to be always reminded by the eye, of how 'He was wounded for our +transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities.' + +He thanked Miss Jane with all his heart, and she and Ellen soon found +a place to hang it up well in his sight. It was a pretty bright +sight to see her insisting on holding the nail for it, and then +playfully pretending to shrink and fancy that Ellen would hammer her +fingers. + +Alfred could enjoy the sunshine of his sick-room again; and Ellen and +his mother down-stairs told Miss Selby, with many tears, of the happy +change that had come over him ever since he had resigned himself to +give up hopes of life. Mrs. King looked so peaceful and thankful, +that little Jane could hardly understand what it was that made her so +much more at rest. + +Even Ellen, though her heart ached at the hope having gone out, and +left a dark place where it had been, felt the great relief from hour +to hour of not being fretted and snarled at for whatever she either +did or left undone. Thanks and smiles were much pleasanter payment +than groans, murmurs, and scoldings; and the brother and sister +sometimes grew quite cheerful and merry together, as Alfred lay +raised up to look over the hedge into the harvest-field across the +meadow, where the reaper and his wife might be seen gathering the +brown ears round, and cutting them with the sickle, and others going +after to bind them into the glorious wheat sheaves that leant against +each other in heaps of blessed promise of plenty. + +Paul tried reaping; but the first thing he did was to make a terrible +cut in his hand, which the shuffler told him was for good luck! Some +of the women in the field bound it up, but he was good for nothing +after it except going after the cattle, and so he was likely to lose +all the chance of earning himself any better clothes in harvest-time. + +Harold grumbled dreadfully that his mother could not spare him to go +harvesting beyond their own tiny quarter of an acre of wheat. The +post made it impossible for him to go out to work like the labourers; +and besides, his mother did not think he had gained much good in hay- +time, and wished to keep him from the boys. + +Very hard he thought it; and to hear him grumble, any one would have +thought Mrs. King was a tyrant far worse than Farmer Shepherd, +working the flesh off his bones, taking away the fun and the payment +alike. + +The truth was, that the morning when Harold threw away from him the +thought of his brother's danger, and broke all his promises to him in +the selfish fear of a rebuke from the clergyman, had been one of the +turning-points of his life, and a turning-point for the bad. It had +been a hardening of his heart, just as it had begun to be touched, +and a letting in of evil spirits instead of good ones. + +He became more than ever afraid of Mr. Cope, and shirked going near +him so as to be spoken to; he cut Ellen off short if she said a word +to him, and avoided being with Alfred, partly because it made him +melancholy, partly because he was afraid of Alfred's again talking to +him about the evil of his ways. In reality, his secret soul was +wretched at the thought of losing his brother; but he tried to put +the notion away from him, and to drown it in the noisiest jokes and +most riotous sports he could meet with, keeping company with the +wildest lads about the parish. That Dick Royston especially, whose +honesty was doubtful, but who, being a clever fellow, was a sort of +leader, was doing great harm by setting his face against the new +parson, and laughing at the boys who went to him. Mrs. King was very +unhappy. It was almost worse to think of Harold than of his sick +brother; and Alfred grieved very much too, and took to himself the +blame of having made home miserable to Harold, and driven him into +bad company; of having been so peevish and unpleasant, that it was no +wonder he would not come near him more than could be helped; and +above all, of having set a bad example of idleness and recklessness, +when he was well. If the tears were brought into his eyes at first +by some unkind neglect of Harold's, they were sure to end in this +thought at last; and then the only comfort was, that Mr. Cope had +told him that he might make his sick-bed very precious to his +brother's welfare, by praying always for him. + +Mr. Cope had talked it over with Mrs. King; and they had agreed that +as Harold was under the regular age for Confirmation, and seemed so +little disposed to prepare for it in earnest, they would not press it +on him. He was far from fit for it, and he was in such a mood of +impatient irreverence, that Mr. Cope was afraid of making his sin +worse by forcing serious things on him, and his mother was in +constant fear of losing her last hold on him. + +Yet Harold was not a bad or unfeeling boy by nature; and if he would +but have paused to think, he would have been shocked to see how +cruelly he was paining his widowed mother and dying brother, just +when he should have been their strength and stay. + +One afternoon in October, when Alfred was in a good deal of pain, Mr. +Blunt said he would send out some cooling ointment for the wound at +the joint, when Harold took the evening letters into Elbury. Alfred +reckoned much on the relief this was to give, and watched the ticks +of the clock for the time for Harold to set off. + +'Make haste,' were the last words his mother spoke--and Harold fully +meant to make haste; nor was it weather to tempt him to stay long, +for there was a chill raw fog hanging over the meadows, and fast +turning into rain, which hung in drops upon his eyebrows, and the +many-tiered cape of his father's box-coat, which he always wore in +bad weather. It was fortunate he was likely to meet nothing, and +that he and the pony both knew the road pretty well. + +How fuzzy the grey fog made the lamps of the town look! Did they +disturb the pony? What a stumble! Ha! there's a shoe off. Be it +known that it was Harold's own fault; he had not looked at the shoes +for many a morning, as he knew it was his duty to do. + +He left Peggy with her ears back, much discomposed at being shod in a +strange forge, and by any one but Bill Saunders. + +Then Harold was going to leave his bag at the post-office, when, as +he turned up the street, some one caught hold of him, and cried, 'Ho! +Harold King on foot! What's the row? Old pony tumbled down dead?' + +'Cast a shoe,' said Harold. + +'Oh, jolly, you'll have to wait!' went on Dick Royston. 'Come in +here! Here's such a lark!' + +Harold looked into a court-yard belonging to a low public-house, and +saw what was like a tent, with a bright red star on a blue ground at +the end, lighted up. A dark figure came between, and there was a +sudden crack that made Harold start. + +'It's the unique (he called it eu-ni-quee) royal shooting-gallery, +patronized by his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales,' (what a +story!) said Dick. 'You've only to lay down your tin; one copper for +three shots, and if you hit, you may take your choice--gingerbread- +nuts, or bits of cocoa-nut, or, what's jolliest, lollies with gin +inside 'em! Come, blaze away! or ha'n't you got the money? Does +Mother keep you too short?' + +If there was a thing Harold had a longing for, it was to fire off a +gun! If there was a person he envied more than another, it was old +Isaac Coffin, when he prowled up and down Farmer Ledbitter's fields +with an old blunderbuss and some powder, to keep off the birds! + +To be sure it was a public-house, but it was not inside one! And +Mother would call it gambling. Oh, but it wasn't cards or skittles! +And if he shot away his half-pence, how should he pay for the shoeing +of the pony? The blacksmith might trust him, or the clerk at the +post-office would lend him the money, or Betsey Hardman. And the +time? One shot would not waste much! Pony must be shod. Besides, +Dick and all the rest would say he was a baby. + +He paid the penny, threw aside his cap, and took the gun, though +after all it was only a sham one, and what a miss he made! What +business had every one to set up that great hoarse laugh? which made +him so angry that he had nearly turned on Dick and cuffed him for his +pains. + +However, he was the more bent on trying again, and the owner of the +gallery shewed him how to manage better. He hit anything but the +middle of the star, and just saw how he thought he might hit next +time. Next time was barely a miss, so that the man actually gave him +a gin-drop to encourage him. That made him mad to meet with real +success; but it was the turn of another 'young gent,' as the man +called him, and Harold had to stand by, with his penny in his hand, +burning with impatience, and fancying he could mend each shot of that +young gent, and another, and another, and another, who all thrust in +to claim their rights before him. His turn came at last; and so +short and straight was the gallery, that he really did hit once the +side of the star, and once the middle, and thus gained one +gingerbread-nut, and three of the gin-drops. + +It would have been his nature to share them with Alfred, but he could +not do so without saying where he had been, and that he could not do, +so he gave one to Dick, and swallowed the rest to keep out the cold. + +Just then the town clock struck six, and frightened him. He had been +there three-quarters of an hour. What would they say at the post- +office? + +The clerk looked out of his hole as angry as clerk could look. 'This +won't do, King,' he said. 'Late for sorting! Fine, remember--near +an hour after time.' + +'Pony cast a shoe, Sir,' said Harold. He had never been so near a +downright falsehood. + +'Whew! Then I suppose I must not report you this time! But look +out! You're getting slack.' + +No time this for borrowing of the clerk. Harold was really +frightened, for he HAD dawdled much more than he ought of late, and +though he sometimes fancied himself sick of the whole post business, +a complaint to his mother would be a dreadful matter. It put +everything else out of his head; and he ran off in great haste to get +the money from Betsey Hardman, knocking loud at her green door. + +What a cloud of steamy heat the room was, with the fire glowing like +a red furnace, and five black irons standing up before it; and +clothes-baskets full of heaps of whiteness, and horses with vapoury +webs of lace and cambric hanging on them; and the three ironing- +boards, where smoothness ran along with the irons; and the heaps of +folded clothes; and Betsey in her white apron, broad and red in the +midst of her maidens! + +'Ha! Harold King! Well, to be sure, you are a stranger! Don't come +nigh that there hoss; it's Mrs. Parnell's best pocket-handkerchiefs, +real Walencines!' (she meant Valenciennes.) 'If you'll just run up +and see Mother, I'll have it out of the way, and we'll have a cup of +tea.' + +'Thank you, but I--' + +'My! What a smoke ye're in! Take care, or I shall have 'em all to +do over again. Go up to Mother, do, like a good lad.' + +'I can't, Betsey; I must go home.' + +'Ay! that's the way. Lads never can sit down sensible and +comfortable! it's all the same--' + +'I wanted,' said Harold, interrupting her, 'to ask you to lend me +sixpence. Pony's cast a shoe, and I had to leave her with the +smith.' + +'Ay? Who did you leave her with?' + +'The first I came to, up in Wood Street.' + +'Myers. Ye shouldn't have done that. His wife's the most stuck-up +proud body I ever saw--wears steel petticoats, I'll answer for it. +You should have gone to Charles Shaw.' + +'Can't help it,' said Harold. 'Please, Betsey, let me have the +sixpence; I'll pay you faithfully to-morrow!' + +'Ay! that's always the way. Never come in unless ye want somewhat. +'Twasn't the way your poor father went on! He'd a civil word for +every one. Well, and can't you stop a minute to say how your poor +brother is?' + +'Much the same,' said Harold impatiently. + +'Yes, he'll never be no better, poor thing! All decliny; as I says +to Mother, what a misfortune it is upon poor Cousin King! they'll all +go off, one after t'other, just like innocents to the slaughter.' + +This was not a cheerful prediction; and Harold petulantly said he +must get back, and begged for the sixpence. He got it at last, but +not till all Betsey's pocket had been turned out; and finding nothing +but shillings and threepenny-bits, she went all through her day's +expenses aloud, calling all her girls to witness to help her to +account for the sixpence that ought to have been there. + +Mrs. Brown had paid her four and sixpence--one florin and a half- +crown--and she had three threepenny-pieces in her pocket, and +twopence. Then Sally had been out and got a shilling's-worth of +soap, and six-penn'orth of blue, and brought home one shilling; and +there was the sausages--no one could recollect what they had cost, +though they talked so much about their taste; and five-pence-worth of +red-herrings, and the butter; yes, and threepence to the beggar who +said he had been in Sebastopol. Harold's head was ready to turn +round before it was all done; but he got away at last, with a +scolding for not going up to see Mother. + +Home he trotted as hard as the pony would go, holding his head down +to try to bury nose and mouth in his collar, and the thick rain +plastering his hair, and streaming down the back of his neck. What +an ill-used wretch was he, said he to himself, to have to rattle all +over the country in such weather! + +Here was home at last. How comfortable looked the bright light, as +the cottage door was thrown open at the sound of the horse's feet! + +'Well, Harold!' cried Ellen eagerly, 'is anything the matter?' + +'No,' he said, beginning to get sulky because he felt he was wrong; +'only Peggy lost a shoe--' + +'Lame?' + +'No, I took her to the smith.' + +'Give me Alfred's ointment, please, before you put her up. He is in +such a way about it, and we can't put him to bed--' + +'Haven't got it.' + +'Not got it! O Harold!' + +'I should like to know how to be minding such things when pony loses +a shoe, and such weather! I declare I'm as wet--!' said Harold +angrily, as he saw his sister clasp her hands in distress, and the +tears come in her eyes. + +'Is Harold come safe?' called Mrs. King from above. + +'Is the ointment come?' cried Alfred, in a piteous pain-worn voice. + +Harold stamped his foot, and bolted to the stable to put the pony +away. + +'It's not come,' said Ellen, coming up-stairs, very sadly. + +'He has forgot it.' + +'Forgot it!' cried Alfred, raising himself passionately. 'He always +does forget everything! He don't care for me one farthing! I +believe he wants me dead!' + +'This is very bad of him! I didn't think he'd have done it,' said +Mrs. King sorrowfully. + +'He's been loitering after some mischief,' exclaimed Alfred. 'Taking +his pleasure--and I must stay all this time in pain! Serve him right +to send him back to Elbury.' + +Mrs. King had a great mind to have done so; but when she looked at +the torrents of rain that streamed against the window, and thought +how wet Harold must be already, and of the fatal illnesses that had +been begun by being exposed to such weather, she was afraid to +venture a boy with such a family constitution, and turning back to +Alfred, she said, 'I am very sorry, Alfred, but it can't be helped; I +can't send Harold out in the rain again, or we shall have him ill +too.' + +Poor Alfred! it was no trifle to have suffered all day, and to be +told the pain must go on all night. His patience and all his better +thoughts were quite worn away, and he burst into tears of anger and +cried out that it was very hard--his mother cared for Harold more +than for him, and nobody minded it, if he lay in such pain all night. + +'You know better than that, dear,' said his poor mother, sadly +grieved, but bearing it meekly. 'Harold shall go as soon as can be +to-morrow.' + +'And what good will that be to-night?' grumbled Alfred. 'But you +always did put Harold before me. However, I shall soon be dead and +out of your way, that's all!' + +Mrs. King would not make any answer to this speech, knowing it only +made him worse. She went down to see about Harold, an additional +offence to Alfred, who muttered something about 'Mother and her +darling.' + +'How can you, Alfred, speak so to Mother?' cried Ellen. + +'I'm sure every one is cross enough to me,' returned Alfred. + +'Not Mother,' said Ellen. 'She couldn't help it.' + +'She won't send Harold out again, though; I'm sure I'd have gone for +him.' + +'You don't know what the rain was,' said Ellen. + +'Well, he should have minded; but you're all against me.' + +'You'll be sorry by-and-by, Alfred; this isn't like the way you talk +sometimes.' + +'Some one else had need to be sorry, not me.' + +Perhaps, in the midst of his captious state, Alfred was somewhat +pacified by hearing sounds below that made him certain that Harold +was not escaping without some strong words from his mother. + +They were not properly taken. Harold was in no mood of repentance, +and the consciousness that he had been behaving most unkindly, only +made him more rough and self-justifying. + +'I can't help it! I can't be a slave to run about everywhere, and +remember everything--pony losing her shoe, and nigh tumbling down +with me, and Ross at the post so cross for nothing!' + +'You'll grieve at the way you have used your poor brother one of +these days, Harold,' quietly answered his mother, so low, that Alfred +could not hear through the floor. 'Now, you'll please to go to bed.' + +'Ain't I to have no supper?' said Harold in a sullen voice, with a +great mind to sit down in the chimney-corner in defiance. + +'I shall give you something hot when you are in bed. If I treated +you as you deserve, I should send you to Mr. Blunt's this moment; but +I can't afford to have you ill too, so go to bed this moment.' + +His mother could still master him by her steadiness and he went up, +muttering that he'd no notion of being treated like a baby, and that +he would soon shew her the difference: he wasn't going to be made a +slave to Alfred, and 'twas all a fuss about that stuff! + +He did fancy he said his prayers; but they could not have been real +ones, for he was no softer when his mother came to his bedside with a +great basin of hot gruel. He said he hated such nasty sick stuff, +and grunted savagely when, with a look that ought to have gone to his +heart, she asked if he thought he deserved anything better. + +Yet she did not know of the shooting gallery, nor of his false +excuses. If he had not been deceiving her, perhaps he might have +been touched. + +'Well, Harold,' she said at last, after taking the empty basin from +him, and picking up his wet clothes and boots to dry them by the +fire, 'I hope as you lie there you'll come to a better mind. It +makes me afraid for you, my boy. It is not only your brother you are +sinning against, but if you are a bad boy, you know Who will be angry +with you. Good-night.' + +She lingered, but Harold was still hard, and would neither own +himself sorry, nor say good-night. + +When she passed his bed at the top of the stairs again, after hanging +up the things by the fire, he had his head hidden, and either was, or +feigned to be, asleep. + +Alfred's ill-temper was nearly gone, but he still thought himself +grievously injured, and was at no pains to keep himself from groaning +and moaning all the time he was being put to bed. In fact, he rather +liked to make the most of it, to shew his mother how provoking she +was, and to reproach Harold for his neglect. + +The latter purpose he did not effect; Harold heard every sound, and +consoled himself by thinking what an intolerable work Alfred was +making on purpose. If he had tried to bear it as well as possible, +his brother would have been much more likely to be sorry. + +Alfred was thinking too much about his misfortunes and discomforts to +attend to the evening reading, but it soothed him a little, and the +pain was somewhat less, so he did fall asleep, so uneasily though, +that Mrs. King put off going to bed as late as she could. + +It was nearly eleven, and Ellen had been in bed a long time, when +Alfred started, and Mrs. King turned her head, at the click of the +wicket gate, and a step plashing on the walk. She opened the little +window, and the gust of wet wind puffed the curtains, whistled round +the room, and almost blew out the candle. + +'Who's there? + +'It's me, Mrs. King! I've got the stuff,' called a hoarse tired +voice. + +'Well, if ever! It's Paul Blackthorn!' exclaimed Mrs. King. 'Thank +ye kindly. I'll come and let you in.' + +'Paul Blackthorn!' cried Alfred. 'Been all the way to Elbury for me! +O Mother, bring him up, and let me thank him! But how ever did he +know?' The tears came running down Alfred's cheeks at such kindness +from a stranger. Mrs. King had hurried downstairs, and at the +threshold stood a watery figure, holding out the gallipot. + +'Oh! thank you, thank you; but come in! Yes, come in! you must have +something hot, and get dried.' + +Paul shambled in very foot-sore. He looked as if he were made of +moist mud, and might be squeezed into any shape, and streams of rain +were dropping from each of his many rags. + +'Well, I don't know how to thank you--such a night! But he'll sleep +easy now. How did you come to think of it?' + +'I was just coming home from the parson's, and I met Harold putting +up Peggy, in a great way because he'd forgotten. That's all, +Missus,' said Paul, looking shamefaced. 'Good-night to you.' + +'No, no, that won't do. I must have you sit down and get dry,' said +Mrs. King, nursing up the remains of the fire; and as Paul's day- +garments served him for night-gear likewise, he could hardly help +accepting the invitation, and spreading his chilled hands to the +fire. + +As to Mrs. King's feelings, it must be owned that, grateful as she +was, it was rather like sitting opposite to the heap in the middle of +Mr. Shepherd's farm-yard. + +'Would you take that?' she said, holding out a three-penny piece. +'I'd make it twice as much if I could, but times are hard.' + +'No, no, Missus, I didn't do it for that,' said Paul, putting it +aside. + +'Then you must have some supper, that I declare.' + +And she brought out a slice of cold bacon, and some bread, and warmed +some beer at the fire. She would go without bacon and beer herself +to-morrow, but that was nothing to her. It was a real pleasure to +see the colour come into Paul's bony yellow cheeks at the hearty +meal, which he could not refuse; but he did not speak much, for he +was tired out, and the fire and the beer were making him very sleepy. + +Alfred rapped above with the stick that served as a bell. It was to +beg that Paul would come and be thanked; and though Mrs. King was a +little afraid of the experiment, she did ask him to walk up for a +moment. + +Grunt went he, and in rather an unmannerly way, he said, 'I'd rather +not.' + +'Pray do,' said Mrs. King; 'I don't think Alfred will sleep easy +without saying thank you.' + +So Paul complied, and in a most ungainly fashion clumped up-stairs +and stood at the door. He had not forgotten his last reception, and +would not come a step farther, though Alfred stretched out his hand +and begged him to come in. + +Alfred could say only 'Thank you, I never thought any one would be so +kind.' + +And Paul made gruff reply, 'Ye're very welcome,' turned about as if +he were running away, and tumbled down-stairs, and out of the house, +without even answering Mrs. King's 'Good-night.' + +Harold had wakened at the sounds. He heard all, but he chose to seem +to be asleep, and, would you believe it? he was only the more +provoked! Paul's exertion made his neglect seem all the worse, and +he was positively angry with him for 'going and meddling, and poking +his nose where he'd no concern. Now he shouldn't be able to get the +stuff to-morrow, and so make it up; and of course mother would go and +dock Paul's supper out of his dinner!' + +If such reflections were going on upon one side of the partition, +there were very different thoughts upon the other. The stranger's +kindness had done more than relieve Alfred's pain: the warm sense of +thankfulness had softened his spirit, and carried off his selfish +fit. He knew not how kind people were to him, and how ungrateful he +had been to punish his innocent mother and sister, and so much to +magnify a bit of thoughtlessness on Harold's part; to be angry with +his mother for not driving him out when she thought it might endanger +his health and life, and to say such cruel things on purpose to wound +her. Alfred felt himself far more cruel than he had even thought +Harold. + +And was this his resolution? Was this the shewing the sincerity of +his repentance through his conduct in illness? Was this patience? +Was it brotherly love? Was it the taking up the cross so as to bear +it like his Saviour, Who spoke no word of complaining, no murmur +against His tormentors? + +How he had fallen! How he had lost himself! It was a bitter +distress, and threw him almost into despair. He prayed over and over +to be forgiven, and began to long for some assurance of pardon, and +for something to prevent all his right feelings and wishes from thus +seeming to slip away from his grasp at the first trial. + +He told his mother how sorry he was; and she answered, 'Dear lad, +don't fret about it. It was very hard for you to bear, and you are +but learning, you see, to be patient.' + +'But I'm not learning if I don't go on no better,' sighed Alfred. + +'By bits you are, my boy,' she said; 'you are much less fractious now +than you used to be, only you could not stand this out-of-the-way +trial.' + +Alfred groaned. + +'Do you remember what our Saviour said to St. Peter?' said his +mother; '"Whither I go thou canst not follow Me now, but thou shalt +follow Me afterwards." You see, St. Peter couldn't bear his cross +then, but he went on doing his best, and grieving when he failed, and +by-and-by he did bear it almost like his Master. He got to be made +strong out of weakness.' + +There was some comfort to Alfred in this; but he feared, and yet +longed, to see Mr. Cope, and when he came, had scarcely answered his +questions as to how he felt, before he said, 'O Sir, I've been a bad +boy again, and so cross to them all!' + +'O Sir,' said Ellen, who could not bear for him to blame himself, +'I'm sure it was no wonder--he's so distracted with the pain, and +Harold getting idling, and forgetting to bring him the ointment. +Why, even that vagabond boy was so shocked, that he went all the way +to Elbury that very night for it. I told Alfred you'd tell him that +anybody would be put out, and nobody would think of minding what he +said.' + +'Nobody, especially so kind a sister,' said Mr. Cope, smiling; 'but +that is not what Alfred is thinking of.' + +'No, Sir,' said Alfred; 'their being so good to me makes it all the +worse.' + +'I quite believe so; and you are very much disappointed in yourself.' + +'Oh yes, Sir, just when I wanted to be getting patient, and more +like--' and his eyes turned to the little picture, and filled with +tears. + +Mr. Cope said somewhat of what his mother had said that he was but a +scholar in patience, and that he must take courage, though he had +slipped, and pray for new strengthening and refreshing to go on in +the path of pain his Lord had hallowed for him. + +Perhaps the words reminded Alfred of the part of the Catechism where +they occur, for he said, 'Oh, I wish I was confirmed! If I could but +take the Holy Sacrament, to make me stronger, and sure of being +forgiven--' + +'You shall--before--' said Mr. Cope, speaking eagerly, but becoming +choked as he went on. 'You are one whom the Church would own as +ready and desirous to come, though you cannot be confirmed. You +should at once--but you see I am not yet a priest; I have not the +power to administer the Holy Communion; but I trust I shall be one in +the spring, and then, Alfred--Or if you should be worse, I promise +you that I would bring some one here. You shall not go without the +Bread of Life.' + +Alfred felt what he said to the depths of his heart, but he could not +say anything but 'Thank you, Sir.' + +Mr. Cope, still much moved, laid his hand upon that of the boy. 'So, +Alfred, we prepare together. As I hope and long to prepare myself to +have that great charge committed to me, which our Saviour Christ gave +to His Apostles; so you prepare for the receiving of that Bread and +that Cup which will more fully unite you to Him, and join your +suffering to what He bore for you.' + +'How shall I, Sir?' murmured Alfred. + +'I will do my best to shew you,' said Mr. Cope; 'but your Catechism +tells you best. Think over that last answer.' + +Alfred's face lighted sweetly as he went over it. 'Why, that's what +I can't help doing, Sir; I can't forget my faults, I'm so afraid of +them; and I'm sure I do want to lead a new life, if I didn't keep on +being so bad; and thinking about His dying is the best comfort I +have. Nor I'm sure I don't bear ill-will to nobody, only I suppose +it is not charity to run out at poor Mother and Ellen when one's put +out.' + +'Perhaps that is what you want to learn,' said Mr. Cope, 'and to get +all these feelings deepened, and more earnest and steadfast. If the +long waiting does that for you, it will be good, and keep you from +coming lightly to the Holy Feast.' + +'Oh, I could not do that!' exclaimed Alfred. 'And may I think that +all my faults will be taken away and forgiven?' + +'All you repent of, and bring in faith--' + +'That is what they say at church in the Absolution,' said Alfred +thoughtfully. + +'Rather it is what the priest says to them,' said Mr. Cope; 'it is +the applying the promise of forgiveness that our Saviour bought. I +may not yet say those words with authority, Alfred, but I should like +to hope that some day I may speak them to you, and bring rest from +the weight at your heart.' + +'Oh! I hope I may live to that!' said Alfred. + +'You shall hear them, whether from me or from another,' said Mr. +Cope, 'that is, if God will grant us warning. But you need not fear, +Alfred, if you thoroughly repent, and put your full faith in the +great Sacrifice that has been offered for your sins and the sins of +all the world. God will take care of His child, and you already have +His promise that He will give you all that is needful for your +salvation.' + + + +CHAPTER VIII--CONFIRMATION + + + +If Harold had known all the consequences of his neglect, perhaps he +would have been more sorry for it than as yet he had chosen to be. + +The long walk and the warm beer and fire sent Paul to his hay-nest so +heavy with sleep, that he never stirred till next morning he was +wakened by Tom Boldre, the shuffler, kicking him severely, and +swearing at him for a lazy fellow, who stayed out at night and left +him to do his work. + +Paul stumbled to his feet, quite confused by the pain, and feeling +for his shoes in the dark loft. The shuffler scarcely gave him an +instant to put them on, but hunted him down-stairs, telling him the +farmer was there, and he would catch it. + +It would do nobody any good to hear the violent way in which Mr. +Shepherd abused the boy. He was a passionate man, and no good +labourers liked to work with him because of his tongue. With such +grown men as he had, he was obliged to keep himself under some +restraint, but this only incited him to make up for it towards the +poor friendless boy. + +It was really nearly eight o'clock, and Paul's work had been +neglected, which was enough to cause displeasure; and besides, Boldre +had heard Paul coming home past eleven, and the farmer insisted on +knowing what he had been doing. + +Under all his rags, Paul was a very proud boy, and thus asked, he +would not tell, but stood with his legs twisted, looking very sulky. + +'No use asking him,' cried Mrs. Shepherd's shrill voice at the back +door; 'why, don't ye hear that Mrs. Barker's hen-roost has been +robbed by Dick Royston and two or three more on 'em?' + +'I never robbed!' cried Paul indignantly. + +'None of your jaw,' said the farmer angrily. 'If you don't tell me +this moment where you've been, off you go this instant. Drinking at +the Tankard, I'll warrant.' + +'No such thing, Sir,' said Paul. 'I went to Elbury after some +medicine for a sick person.' + +Somehow he had a feeling about the house opposite, which would not +let him come out with the name in such a scene. + +'That's all stuff,' broke in Mrs. Shepherd, 'I don't believe one word +of it! Send him off; take my advice, Farmer, let him go where he +comes from; Ellen King told me he was out of prison.' + +Paul flushed crimson at this, and shook all over. He had all but +turned to go, caring for nothing more at Friarswood; but just then, +John Farden, one of the labourers, who was carrying out some manure, +called out, 'No, no, Ma'am. Sure enough he did go to Elbury to Dr. +Blunt's. I was on the road myself, and I hears him. "Goodnight," +says I. "Good-night," says he. "Where be'est going?" says I. "To +doctor's," says he, "arter some stuff for Alfred King." + +'Yes,' said Paul, speaking more to Farden than to his master, 'and +then Mrs. King gave me some supper, and that was what made me so +late.' + +'She ought to be ashamed of herself, then,' said Mrs. Shepherd +spitefully, 'having a vagabond scamp like that drinking beer at her +house at that time of night. How one is deceived in folks!' + +'Well, what are you doing here?' cried the farmer, turning on Paul +angrily; 'd'ye mean to waste any more of the day?' + +So Paul was not turned off, and had to go straight to his work. It +was well he had had so good a supper, for he had not a moment to +snatch a bit of breakfast. It so happened that his work was to go +with John Farden, who was carrying out the manure in the cart. Paul +had to hold the horse, while John forked it out into little heaps in +the field. John was a great big powerful man, with a foolish face, +not a good workman, nor a good character, or he would not have been +at that farm. He had either never been taught anything, or had +forgotten it all; he never went near church; he had married a +disreputable wife, and had two or three unruly children, who were +likely to be the plagues of their parents and the parish, but not a +whit did John heed; he did not seem to have much more sense than to +work just enough to get food, lodging, beer, and tobacco, to sleep +all night, and doze all Sunday. There was not any malice nor +dishonesty in him; but it was terrible that a man with an immortal +soul should live so nearly the life of the brute beasts that have no +understanding, and should never wake to the sense of God or of +eternity. + +He was not a man of many words, and nothing passed for a long time +but shouts of hoy, and whoa, and the like, to the horse. Paul went +heavily on, scarce knowing what he was about; there was a stunned +jaded feel about him, as if he were hunted and driven about, a mere +outcast, despised by every one, even by the Kings, whose kindness had +been his only ray of brightness. Not that his senses or spirits were +alive enough even to be conscious of pain or vexation; it was only a +dull dreary heedlessness what became of him next; and, quick clever +boy as he had been in the Union, he did not seem to have a bit more +sense, thought, or feeling, than John Farden. + +John Farden was the first to break the silence: 'I wouldn't bide,' +said he. + +Paul looked up, and muttered, 'I have nowhere to go.' + +'Farmer uses thee shameful,' repeated John. 'Why don't thee cut?' + +Paul saw the smoke of Mrs. King's chimney. That had always seemed +like a friend to him, but it came across him that they too thought +him a runaway from prison, and he felt as if his only bond of +fellowship was gone. But there was something else, too; and he made +answer, 'I'll bide for the Confirmation.' + +'Eh?' said John, 'what good'll that do ye?' + +'Help me to be a good lad,' said Paul, who knew John Farden would not +enter into any other explanation. + +'Why, what'll they do to ye?' + +'The Bishop will put his hand on me and bless me,' said Paul; and as +he said the words there was hope and refreshment coming back. He was +a child of God, if no other owned him. + +'Whoy,' said Farden, much as he might have spoken to his horse, 'rum +sort of a head thou'st got! Thee'll never go up to Bishop such a +guy!' + +'Can't help it,' said Paul rather sullenly; 'it ain't the clothes +that God looks at.' + +John scanned him all over, with his face looking more foolish than +ever in the puzzle he felt. + +'Well,' he said, 'and what wilt get by it?' + +'God's grace to do right, I hope,' said Paul; then he added, out of +his sad heart, 'It's bad enough here, to be sure. It would be a bad +look-out if one hoped for nothing afterwards.' + +Somehow John's mind didn't take in the notion of afterwards, and he +did not go on talking to Paul. Perhaps there was a dread in his poor +dull mind of getting frightened out of the deadly stupefied sleep it +was bound in. + +But that bit of talk had done Paul great good, by rousing him to the +thought of what he had to hope for. There was the Confirmation nigh +at hand, and then on beyond there was rest; and the words came into +his mind, 'There the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary +are at rest.' + +Poor, poor boy! He was very young to have such yearnings towards the +grave, and well-nigh to wish he lay as near to it as Alfred King, so +he might have those loving tender hands near him, those kind voices +round him. Paul had gone through a great deal in these few months; +and, used to good shelter and regular meals, he was less inured to +bodily hardship than many a cottage boy. His utter neglect of his +person was telling on him; he was less healthy and strong than he had +been, and though high spirits, merriment, and the pleasure of freedom +and independence, had made all light to him in the summer, yet now +the cold weather, with his insufficient food and scanty clothing, was +dulling him and deadening him, and hard work and unkind usage seemed +to be grinding his very senses down. To be sure, when twelve o'clock +came, he went up into the loft, ate his bit of dry bread, and said +his prayers, as he had not been able to do in the morning, and that +made him feel less forlorn and downcast for a little while; but then +as he sat, he grew cold, and numb, and sleepy, and seemed to have no +life in him, but to be moving like a horse in a mill, when Boldre +called him down, and told him not to be idling there. + +The theft in Mrs. Barker's poultry-yard was never traced home to any +one, but the world did not the less believe Dick Royston and Jesse +Rolt to have been concerned in it. Indeed, they had been drinking up +some of their gains when Harold met them at the shooting-gallery: +and Mrs. Shepherd would not put it out of her head that Paul +Blackthorn was in the secret, and that if he did really go for the +medicine as he said, it was only as an excuse for carrying the +chickens to some receiver of stolen goods. She had no notion of any +person doing anything out of pure love and pity. Moreover, it is +much easier to put a suspicion into people's heads than out again; +and if Paul's whole history and each day's doings had been proved to +her in a court of justice, she would still have chiefly remembered +that she had always thought ill of him, and that Ellen King had said +he was a runaway convict, and so she would have believed him to the +end. + +Ellen had long ago forgotten that she had said anything of the kind; +and though she still held her nose rather high when Paul was near, +she would have answered for his honesty as readily as for that of her +own brothers. But hers had not been the charity that thinketh no +evil, and her idle words had been like thistle-down, lightly sent +forth, but when they had lighted, bearing thorns and prickles. + +Those thorns were galling poor Paul. Nobody could guess what his +glimpses of that happy, peaceful, loving family were to him. They +seemed to him like a softer, better kind of world, and he looked at +their fair faces and fresh, well-ordered garments with a sort of +reverence; a kind look or greeting from Mrs. King, a mere civil +answer from Ellen, those two sights of the white spirit-looking +Alfred, were like the rays of light that shone into his dark hay- +loft. Sometimes he heard them singing their hymns and psalms on a +Sunday evening, and then the tears would come into his eyes as he +leant over the gate to listen. And, as if it was because Ellen kept +at the greatest distance from him, he set more store by her words and +looks than those of any one else, was always glad when she served him +in the shop, and used to watch her on Sunday, looking as fresh as a +flower in her neat plain dress. + +And now to hear that she not only thought meanly of him, which he +knew well enough, but thought him a thief, a runaway, and an impostor +coming about with false tales, was like a weight upon his sunken +spirits, and seemed to take away all the little heart hard usage had +left him, made him feel as if suspicious eyes were on him whenever he +went for his bit of bread, and took away all his peace in looking at +the cottage. + +He did once take courage to say to Harold, 'Did your sister really +say I had run away from gaol?' + +'Oh, nobody minds what our Ellen says,' was the answer. + +'But did she say so?' + +'I don't know, I dare say she did. She's so fine, that she thinks no +one that comes up-stairs in dirty shoes worth speaking to. I'm sure +she's the plague of my life--always at me.' + +That was not much comfort for Paul. He had other friends, to be +sure. All the boys in the place liked him, and were very angry with +the way the farmer treated him, and greatly to their credit, they +admired his superior learning instead of being jealous of it. Mrs. +Hayward, the sexton's wife, the same who had bound up his hand when +he cut it at harvest, even asked him to come in and help her boys in +the evenings with what they had to prepare for Mr. Cope. He was not +sorry to do so sometimes. The cottage was a slatternly sort of +place, where he did not feel ashamed of himself, and the Haywards +were mild good sort of folks, from whom he was sure never to hear +either a bad or an unkind word; though he did not care for them, nor +feel refreshed and helped by being with them as he did with the +Kings. + +John Farden, too, was good-natured to him, and once or twice hindered +Boldre from striking or abusing him; he offered him a pipe once, but +Paul could not smoke, and another time brought him out a pint of beer +into the field. Mrs. Shepherd spied him drinking it from her upper +window, and believed all the more that he got money somehow, and +spent it in drink. + +So the time wore on till the Confirmation, all seeming like one dull +heavy dream of bondage; and as the weather became colder, the poor +boy seemed to have no power of thinking of anything, but of so +getting through his work as to avoid violence, to keep himself from +perishing with cold, and not to hurt his chilblains more than he +could help. + +All his quick intellect and good instruction seemed to have perished +away, and the last time he went to Mr. Cope's, he sat as if he were +stupid or asleep, and when a question came to him, sat with his mouth +open like silly Bill Pridden. + +Mr. Cope knew him too well not to feel, as he wrote the ticket, that +there were very few of whom he could so entirely from his heart say +'Examined and APPROVED,' as the poor lonely outcast foundling, Paul +Blackthorn, who could not even tell whether he were fifteen, sixteen, +or seventeen, but could just make sure that he had once been caned by +old Mr. Haynes, who went away from the Union twelve years ago. + +'Do you think you can keep the ticket safe if I give it you now, +Paul?' asked Mr. Cope, recollecting that the cows might sup upon it +like his Prayer-book. + +Paul put his hands down to the bottom of his pockets. They were all +one hole, and that sad lost foolish look came over his wan face +again, and startled Mr. Cope. + +The boys grinned, but Charles Hayward stepped forward. 'Please, Sir, +let me take care of it for him.' + +Mr. Cope and Paul both agreed, and Mr. Cope kept Charles for a moment +to say, as he gave him a shilling, 'Look here, Charles, do you think +you can manage to get that poor fellow a tolerable breakfast on +Saturday before he goes? And if you could make him look a little +more decent?' + +Charles pulled his forelock and looked knowing. In fact, there was a +little plot among these good-natured boys, and Harold King was in it +too, though he was not of the Confirmation party, and said and +thought he was very glad of it. He did not want to bind himself to +be so very good. Silly boy; as if Baptism had not bound him already! + +Mrs. Hayward put her head out as Paul passed her cottage, and called +out, 'I say, you Paul, you come in to-morrow evening with our Charlie +and Jim, and I'll wash you when I washes them.' + +Good Mrs. Hayward made a mistake that the more delicate-minded Mrs. +King would never have made. Perhaps if a pail of warm water and some +soap had been set before Paul, he might actually have washed himself; +but he was much too big and too shamefaced a lad to fancy sharing a +family scrubbing by a woman, whatever she might do to her own sons. +But considering the size of the Hayward cottage, and the way in which +the family lived, this sort of notion was not likely to come into the +head of the good-natured mother. + +So she and her boys were much vexed when Paul did not make his +appearance, and she made a face of great disgust when Charles said, +'Never mind, Mother, my white frock will hide no end of dirt.' + +'I shall have to wash it over again before you can wear it, I know,' +said Mrs. Hayward. 'Not as I grudges the trouble; he's a poor lost +orphant, that it's a shame to see so treated.' + +Mrs. Hayward did not know that she was bestowing the cup of cold +water, as well as being literally ready to wash the feet of the poor +disciple. + +A clean body is a type and token of a pure mind; and though the lads +of Friarswood did not quite perceive this, there was a feeling about +them of there being something unnatural and improper, and a disgrace +to Friarswood, in any one going up to the Bishop in such a condition +as Paul. Especially, as Charles Hayward said, when he was the pick +of the whole lot. Perhaps Charles was right, for surely Paul was +single-hearted in his hope of walking straight to his one home, +Heaven, and he had been doing no other than bearing his cross, when +he so patiently took the being 'buffeted' when he did well, and +faithfully served his froward master. + +But Paul was not to escape the outward cleansing, and from one of the +very last people from whom it would have been expected. He had just +pulled his bed of hay down over him, and was trying to curl himself +up so as to stop his teeth from chattering, with Caesar on his feet, +when the dog growled, and a great voice lowered to a gruff whisper, +said, 'Come along, young un!' + +'I'm coming,' cried Paul. + +Though it was not Boldre's voice, it had startled him terribly; he +was so much used to ill-treatment, that he expected a savage blow +every moment. + +But the great hand that closed on him, though rough, was not unkind. + +'Poor lad, how he quakes!' said John Farden's voice. 'Don't ye be +afeard, it's only me.' + +'Nobody got at the horses?' cried Paul. + +'No, no; only I ain't going to have you going up to yon big parson +all one muck-heap! Come on, and make no noise about it.' + +Paul did not very well know what was going to befall him, but he did +not feel unsafe with John Farden, and besides, his lank frame was in +the grasp of that big hand like a mouse in the power of a mastiff. +So he let himself be hauled down the ladder, into an empty stall, +where, behold, there was a dark lantern (which had been at bad work +in its time), a pail, a brush, a bit of soap, and a ragged towel. + +John laid hold of him much as Alfred in his page days used to do of +Lady Jane's little dog when it had to be washed, but Puck had the +advantage in keeping on his shaggy coat all the time, and in being +more gently handled, whereas Farden scrubbed with such hearty good- +will, that Paul thought his very skin would come off. But he had +undergone the like in the workhouse, and he knew how to accommodate +himself to it; and when his rough bath was over, though he was very +sore, and stiff, and chilly, he really felt relieved, and more +respectable than he had done for many months, only rather sorry he +must put on his filthy old rags again; and he gave honest John more +thanks than might have been expected. + +The Confirmation was to be at eleven o'clock, at Elbury, and John had +undertaken his morning's work, so that Mr. Shepherd grudgingly +consented to spare him, knowing that all the other farmers of course +did the same, and that there would be a cry of shame if he did not. + +Paul had just found his way down the ladder in the morning, with +thoughts going through his mind that to him this would be the coming +of the Comforter, and he was sure he wanted comfort; and that for +some hours of this day at least, he should be at peace from rude +words and blows, when he heard a great confusion of merry voices and +suppressed laughing, and saw the heads of some of the lads bobbing +about near Mrs. King's garden. + +Was it time already to set off, he wondered, looking up to the sun; +but then those boys seemed to be in an uproarious state such as did +not suit his present mood, nor did he think Mr. Cope would consider +it befitting. He would have let them go by, feeling himself such a +scare-crow as they might think a blot upon them; but he remembered +that Charles Hayward had his ticket, and as he looked at himself, he +doubted whether he should be let into a strange church. + +'Paul! Paul Blackthorn!' called Harold, with a voice all aglee. + +'Well!' said Paul, 'what do you want of me?' + +'Come on, and you'll see.' + +'I don't want a row. Is Charlie Hayward there? Just ask him for my +card, and don't make a work.' + +'He'll give it you if you'll come for it,' said Harold; and seeing +there was no other chance, Paul slowly came. Harold led him to the +stable, where just within the door stood a knot of stout hearty boys, +snorting with fun, hiding their heads on each other's shoulders, and +bending their buskined knees with merriment. + +'Now then!' cried Charles Hayward, and he had got hold of the only +button that held Paul's coat together. + +Paul was bursting out with something, but George Grant's arms were +round his waist, and his hands were fumbling at his fastenings. They +were each one much stronger than he was now, and they drowned his +voice with shouts of laughter, while as fast as one garment was +pulled off, another was put on. + +'Mind, you needn't make such a work, it bain't presents,' said George +Grant, 'only we won't have them asking up at Elbury if we've saved +the guy to bring in.' + +'It is a present, though, old Betty Bushel's shirt,' said Charles +Hayward. 'She said she'd throw it at his head if he brought it back +again; but the frock's mine.' + +'And the corduroys is mine,' said George Grant. 'My! they be a sight +too big in the band! Run in, Harold, and see if your mother can lend +us a pin.' + +'And the waistcoat is my summer one,' said Fred Bunting. 'He's too +big too; why, Paul, you're no better than a natomy!' + +'Never mind, my white frock will hide it all,' said Charles, 'and +here's Ned's cap for you. Oh! and it's poor Alfred's boots.' + +Paul could not make up his mind to walk all the way in the boots, but +to satisfy the boys he engaged to put them on as soon as they were +getting to Elbury. + +'My! he looks quite respectable,' cried Charles, running back a +little way to look at him. + +'I wonder if Mr. Cope will know him?' exclaimed Harold, jumping leap- +frog fashion on George Grant's back. + +'The maids will take him for some strange gentleman,' exclaimed Jem +Hayward; 'and why, bless me, he's washed, I do declare!' as a streak +of light from the door fell on Paul's visage. + +'No, you don't mean it,' broke out Charles. 'Let's look! yes, I +protest, why, the old grime between his eyes is gone after all. How +did you manage that, Paul?' + +Paul rather uneasily mumbled something about John Farden, and the +boys clapped their hands, and shouted, so that Alfred, who well knew +what was going on, raised himself on his pillow and laughed. It was +rather blunt treatment for feelings if they were tender, but these +were rough warm-hearted village boys, and it was all their good- +nature. + +'And where's the grub?' asked Charles importantly, looking about. + +'Oh, not far off,' said Harold; and in another moment, he and Charles +had brought in a black coffee-pot, a large mug, some brown sugar, a +hunch of bread, some butter, and a great big smoking sausage. + +Paul looked at it, as if he were not quite sure what to do with it. +One boy proceeded to turn in an inordinate quantity of sugar, another +to pour in the brown coffee that sent out a refreshing steam enough +to make any one hungry. George Grant spread the butter, cut the +sausage in half, put it on the bread, and thrust it towards Paul. + +'Eat it--s--s,' said Charles, patting Paul on the back. 'Mr. Cope +said you was to, and you must obey your minister.' + +'Not all for me?' said Paul, not able to help a pull at the coffee, +the mug warming his fingers the while. + +'Oh yes, we've all had our breakfastisses,' said George Grant; 'we +are only come to make you eat yours like a good boy, as Mr. Cope said +you should.' + +They stood round, looking rather as they would have done had Paul +been an elephant taking his meal in a show; but not one would hear of +helping him off with a crumb out of Mr. Cope's shilling. George +Grant was a big hungry lad, and his breakfast among nine at home had +not been much to speak of; but savoury as was the sausage, and +perfumy as was the coffee, he would have scorned to take a fragment +from that stranger, beg him to do so as Paul might; and what could +not be eaten at that time, with a good pint of the coffee, was put +aside in a safe nook in the stable to be warmed up for supper. + +That morning's work was not a bad preparation for Confirmation after +all. + +Harold had stayed so long, that he had to jump on the pony and ride +his fastest to be in time at the post. He was very little ashamed of +not being among those lads, and felt as if he had the more time to +enjoy himself; but there were those who felt very sad for him-- +Alfred, who would have given so much to receive the blessing; and +Ellen, whose confirmation was very lonely and melancholy without +either of her brothers; besides his mother, to whom his sad +carelessness was such constant grief and heart-ache. + +Ellen was called for by the carriage from the Grange, and sat up +behind with the kitchen-maid, who was likewise to be confirmed. +Little Miss Jane sat inside in her white dress and veil, looking like +a snowdrop, Alfred thought, as his mother lifted him up to the window +to see her, as the carriage stood still while Ellen climbed to her +seat. + +In the course of the morning, Mrs. King made time to read over the +Confirmation Service with Alfred, to think of the blessing she was +receiving, and to pray that it might rest upon her through life. And +they entreated, too, that Harold might learn to care for it, and be +brought to a better mind. + +'O Mother,' said Alfred, after lying thinking for sometime, 'if I +thought Harold would take up for good and be a better boy to you than +I have been, I should not mind anything so much.' + +And there was Harold all the time wondering whether he should be able +to get out in the evening to have a lark with Dick and Jesse. + +Ellen was set down by-and-by. Her colour was very deep, but she +looked gentle and happy, and the first thing she did was to bend over +Alfred, kiss him, and say how she wished he had been there. + +Then, when she had been into her own room, she came back and told +them about the beautiful large Elbury Church, and the great numbers +of young girls and boys on the two sides of the aisle, and of the +Bishop seated in the chair by the altar, and the chanted service, +with the organ sounding so beautiful. + +And then how her heart had beat, and she hardly dared to speak her +vow, and how she trembled when her turn came to go up to the rail, +but she said it was so comfortable to see Mr. Cope in his surplice, +looking so young among the other clergymen, and coming a little +forward, as if to count out and encourage his own flock. She was +less frightened when she had met his kind eye, and was able to kneel +down with a more quiet mind to receive the gift which had come down +on the Day of Pentecost. + +Alfred wanted to know whether she had seen Paul, but Ellen had been +kneeling down and not thinking of other people, when the Friarswood +boys went up. Only she had passed him on the way home, and seen that +though he was lagging the last of the boys, he did not look dull and +worn, as he had been doing lately. + +Ellen had been asked to go to the Grange after church to-morrow +evening, and drink tea there, in celebration of the Confirmation +which the two young foster-sisters had shared. + +Harold went to fetch her home at night, and they both came into the +house fresh and glowing with the brisk frosty air, and also with what +they had to tell. + +'O mother, what do you think? Paul Blackthorn is to go to the Grange +to-morrow. My Lady wants to see him, and perhaps she will make Mr. +Pound find some work for him about the farm.' + +Harold jumped up and snapped his fingers towards the farm. 'There's +for old Skinflint!' said he; 'not a chap in the place but will halloo +for joy!' + +'Well, I am glad!' said Mrs. King; 'I didn't think that poor lad +would have held out much longer, winter weather and all. But how did +my Lady come to hear of it?' + +'Oh, it seems she noticed him going to church in all his rags, and +Mr. Cope told her who he was; so Miss Jane came and asked me all +about him, and I told her what a fine scholar he is, and how +shamefully the farmer and Boldre treat him, and how good he was to +Alfred about the ointment, and how steady he is. And I told her +about the boys dressing him up yesterday, and how he wouldn't take a +gift. She listened just as if it was a story, and she ran away to +her grandmamma, and presently came back to say that the boy was to +come up to-morrow after his work, for Lady Jane to speak to him.' + +'Well, at least, he has been washed once,' said Mrs. King; 'but he's +so queer; I hope he will have no fancies, and will behave himself.' + +'I'll tackle him,' declared Harold decidedly. 'I've a great mind to +go out this moment and tell him.' + +Mrs. King prevented this; she persuaded Harold that Mrs. Shepherd +would fly out at them if she heard any noise in the yard, and that it +would be better for every one to let Paul alone till the morning. + +Morning came, and as soon as Harold was dressed, he rushed to the +farm-yard, but he could not find Paul anywhere, and concluded that he +had been sent out with the cows, and would be back by breakfast-time. + +As soon as he had brought home the post-bag, he dashed across the +road again, but came back in a few moments, looking beside himself. + +'He's gone!' he said, and threw himself back in a chair. + +'Gone!' cried Mrs. King and Ellen with one voice, quite aghast. + +'Gone!' repeated Harold. 'The farmer hunted him off this morning! +Missus will have it that he's been stealing her eggs, and that there +was a lantern in the stable on Friday night; so they told him to be +off with him, and he's gone!' + +'Poor, poor boy! just when my Lady would have been the making of +him!' cried Ellen. + +'But where--which way is he gone?' asked Mrs. King. + +'I might ride after him, and overtake him,' cried Harold, starting +up, 'but I never thought to ask! And Mrs. Shepherd was ready to +pitch into me, so I got away as soon as I could. Do you run over and +ask, Ellen; you always were a favourite.' + +They were in such an eager state, that Ellen at once sprang up, and +hastily throwing on her bonnet, ran across the road, and tapped at +Mrs. Shepherd's open door, exclaiming breathlessly, 'O Ma'am, I beg +your pardon, but will you tell me where Paul Blackthorn is gone?' + +'Paul Blackthorn! how should I know?' said Mrs. Shepherd crossly. +'I'm not to be looking after thieves and vagabonds. He's a come-by- +chance, and he's a go-by-chance, and a good riddance too!' + +'Oh but, Ma'am, my Lady wanted to speak to him.' + +This only made Mrs. Shepherd the more set against the poor boy. + +'Ay, ay, I know--coming over the gentry; and a good thing he's gone!' +said she. 'The place isn't to be harbouring thieves and vagrants, or +who's to pay the rates? My eggs are gone, I tell you, and who should +take 'em but that lad, I'd like to know?' + +'Them was two rotten nest-eggs as I throwed away when I was cleaning +the stable.' + +'Who told you to put in your word, John Farden?' screamed Mrs. +Shepherd, turning on him. 'Ye'd best mind what ye're about, or ye'll +be after him soon.' + +'No loss neither,' muttered John, stopping to pick up his shovel. + +'And you didn't see which way he was gone?' asked Ellen, looking from +the labourer to the farmer's wife. + +'Farmer sent un off or ever I come,' replied John, 'or I'd ha' gied +un a breakfast.' + +'I'm sure I can't tell,' said Mrs. Shepherd, with a toss of her head. +'And as to you, Ellen King, I'm surprised at you, running after a +scamp like that, that you told me yourself was out of a prison.' + +'Oh but, Mrs. Shepherd--' + +'You ought to be ashamed of yourself,' interrupted Mrs. Shepherd; +'and I wonder your mother allows it. But there's nothing like girls +now-a-days.' + +Ellen thought John Farden grinned; and feeling as if nothing so +shocking could ever happen to her again, she flew back, she hardly +knew how, to her home, clapped the door after, and dropping into a +chair as Harold had done, burst into such a fit of crying, that she +could not speak, and only shook her head in answer to Harold's +questions as to how Paul was gone. + +'Oh, no one knew!' she choked out among her sobs; 'and Mrs. Shepherd- +-such things!' + +Harold stamped his foot, and Mrs. King tried to soothe her. In the +midst, she recollected that she could not bear her brothers to guess +at the worst part of the 'such things;' and recovering herself a +moment, she said, 'No, no, they've driven him off! He's gone, and-- +and, oh! Mother, Mrs. Shepherd will have it he's a thief, and--and +she says I said so.' + +That was bad enough, and Ellen wept bitterly again; while her mother +and Harold both cried out with surprise. + +'Yes--but--I did say I dare said he was out of a reformatory--and +that she should remember it! Now I've taken away his character, and +he's a poor lost boy!' + +Oh, idle words! idle words! + + + +CHAPTER IX--ROBBING THE MAIL + + + +There was no helping it! People must have their letters whether Paul +Blackthorn were lost or not, and Harold was a servant of the public, +and must do his duty, so after some exhortations from his mother, he +ruefully rose up, hoping that he should not have to go to +Ragglesford. + +'Yes, you will,' said his mother, 'and maybe to wait. Here's a +registered letter, and I think there are two more with money in +them.' + +'To think,' sighed Harold, as he mounted his pony, 'of them little +chaps getting more money for nothing, than Paul did in a month by +working the skin off his bones!' + +'Don't be discontented, Harold, on that score. Them little chaps +will work hard enough by-and-by: and the money they have now is to +train them in making a fit use of it then.' + +Harold looked anxiously up and down the road for Paul, and asked Mr. +Cope's housekeeper whether he had been there to take leave. No; and +indeed Harold would have been a little vexed if he had wished good- +bye anywhere if not at home. + +There was a fine white frost, and the rime hung thickly on every +spray of the heavy branches of the dark firs and larches that +overhung the long solitary lane between the Grange and Ragglesford, +and fringed the park palings with crystals. Harold thought how cold +poor Paul must be going on his way in his ragged clothes. The ice +crackled under the pony's feet as she trotted down Ragglesford Lane, +and the water of the ford looked so cold, that Peggy, a very wise +animal, turned her head towards the foot-bridge, a narrow and not +very sound affair, over which Harold had sometimes taken her when the +stream was high, and threatened to be over his feet. + +Harold made no objection; but no sooner were all the pony's four +hoofs well upon the bridge, than at the other end appeared Dick +Royston. + +'Hollo, Har'ld!' was his greeting, 'I've got somewhat to say to ye.' + +'D'ye know where Paul Blackthorn is?' asked Harold. + +'Not I--I'm a traveller myself, you must know.' + +'You, going to cut?' cried Harold. + +'Ay,' said Dick, laying hold of the pony's rein. 'The police have +been down at Rolt's--stupid fellow left old gander's feet about--Mrs. +Barker swore to 'em 'cause he'd had so many kicks and bites on +common--Jesse's took up and peached--I've been hiding about all +night--precious cold it was, and just waiting, you see, to wish you +goodbye.' + +Harold, very much shocked, could have dispensed with his farewells, +nor did he like the look of his eyes. + +'Thank you, Dick; I'm sorry--I didn't think--but I'm after time--I +wish you'd let go of Peggy.' + +'So that's all you have to say to an old comrade!' said Dick; 'but, I +say, Har'ld, I'm not going so. I must have some tin to take me to +Portsmouth. I want to know what you've got in that there bag!' + +'You won't have that; it's the post. Let go, Dick;' and he pushed +the pony forward, but Dick had got her fast by the head. Harold +looked round for help, but Ragglesford Lane was one of the loneliest +places in the country. There was not a house for half a mile, and +Lady Jane's plantations shut in the road on either side. + +'I mean to have it,' said Dick, looking coolly up into his face; 'I +mean to see if there's any of the letters with a half-sovereign in +'em, that you tell us about.' + +'Dick, Dick, it would be robbing! For shame, Dick! What would +become of Mother and me?' + +'That's your look-out,' said Dick; and he stretched out his hand for +the bag. He was four years older than Harold, and much stouter. + +Harold, with a ready move, chucked the bag round to his back, and +shouted lustily in hopes that there might be a keeper in the woods, +'Help! Thieves! He's robbing the post!' + +Dick's hoarse laugh was all the answer. 'That'll do, my dear,' he +said; 'now you'd best be quiet; I'd be loath to hurt you.' + +For all answer, Harold, shouting all the time, dealt him a stroke +right over the eyes and nose with his riding-switch, and made a great +effort to force the pony on in hopes the blow might have made him +slacken his hold. But though one moment Dick's arm was thrown over +his watering eyes, the other hand held the bridle as firmly as ever, +and the next instant his fist dealt Harold such a blow, as nearly +knocked out all his breath. Setting his teeth, and swearing an oath, +Dick was pouncing on the boy's arm, when from the road before them +came bursting a meagre thing darting like a wild cat, which fell upon +him, hallooing as loud as Harold. + +Dick turned in fury, and let go the bridle. The pony backed in +alarm. The new-comer was grappling with the thief, and trying to +drag him aside. 'On, on; go on, Har'ld!' he shouted, but his +strength was far from equal to Dick's, who threw him aside on the +hand-rail. Old rotten rail that it was, it crashed under the weight, +and fell with both the boys into the water. Peggy dashed forward to +the other side, where Harold pulled her up with much difficulty, and +turned round to look at the robber and the champion. The fall was +not far, nor the water deep, and they had both risen, and were ready +to seize one another again in their rage. And now Harold saw that he +who had come to his help was no other than Paul Blackthorn, who +shouted loudly, 'On, go on! I'll keep him.' + +'He'll kill you!' screamed Harold, in despair, ready to push in +between them with his horse; but at that moment cart-wheels were +heard in the road, and Dick, shaking his fist, and swearing at them +both, shook off Paul as if he had been a feather, and splashing out +of the ford on the other side, leapt over the hedge, and was off +through the plantations. + +Paul more slowly crept up towards Harold, dripping from head to foot. + +'Paul! Paul! I'm glad I've found you!' cried Harold. 'You've saved +the letters, man, and one was registered! Come along with me, up to +the school.' + +'Nay, I'll not do that,' said Paul. + +'Then you'll stay till I come back,' said Harold earnestly; 'I've got +so much to tell you! My Lady sent for you. Our Ellen told her all +about you, and you're to go to her. Ellen was in such a way when she +found you were off.' + +'Then she didn't think I'd taken the eggs?' said Paul. + +'She'd as soon think that I had,' said Harold. 'Why, don't we all +know that you're one of the parson's own sort? But what made you go +off without a word to nobody?' + +'I don't know. Every one was against me,' said Paul; 'and I thought +I'd just go out of the way, and you'd forget all about me. But I +never touched those eggs, and you may tell Mr. Cope so, and thank him +for all his kindness to me.' + +'You'll tell him yourself. You're going home along with me,' cried +Harold. 'There! I'll not stir a step till you've promised! Why, if +you make off now, 'twill be the way to make them think you have +something to run away for, like that rascal.' + +'Very well,' said Paul, rather dreamily. + +'Then you won't?' said Harold. 'Upon your word and honour?' + +Paul said the words after him, not much as if he knew what he was +about; and Harold, rather alarmed at the sound of the Grange clock +striking, gave a cut to the pony, and bounded on, only looking back +to see that Paul was seating himself by the side of the lane. Harold +said to himself that his mother would not have liked to see him do so +after such a ducking, but he knew that he was more tenderly treated +than other lads, and with reason for precaution too; and he promised +himself soon to be bringing Paul home to be dried and warmed. + +But he was less speedy than he intended. When he arrived at the +school, he had first to account to the servants for his being so +late, and then he was obliged to wait while the owner of the +registered letter was to sign the green paper, acknowledging its safe +delivery. + +Instead of having the receipt brought back to him, there came a +message that he was to go up to tell the master and the young +gentlemen all about the robbery. + +So the servant led the way, and Harold followed a little shy, but +more curious. The boys were in school, a great bare white-washed +room, looking very cold, with a large arched window at one end, and +forms ranged in squares round the hacked and hewed deal tables. +Harold thought he should tell Alfred that the young gentlemen had not +much the advantage of themselves in their schoolroom. + +The boys were mostly smaller than he was, only those of the uppermost +form being of the same size. There might be about forty of them, +looking rather red and purple with the chilly morning, and all their +eighty eyes, black or brown, blue or grey, fixed at once upon the +young postman as he walked into the room, straight and upright, in +his high stout gaiters over his cord trousers, his thick rough blue +coat and red comforter, with his cap in his hand, his fair hair +uncovered, and his blue eyes and rosy cheeks all the more bright for +that strange morning's work. He was a well-mannered boy, and made +his bow very properly to Mr. Carter, the master, who sat at his high +desk. + +'So, my little man,' said the master, 'I hear you've had a fight for +our property this morning. You've saved this young gentleman's +birthday present of a watch, and he wants to thank you.' + +'Thank you, Sir,' said Harold; 'but he'd have been too much for me if +Paul hadn't come to help. He's a deal bigger than me.' + +The boys all made a thumping and scuffling with their feet, as if to +applaud Harold; and their master said, 'Tell us how it was.' + +Harold gave the account in a very good simple manner, only he did not +say who the robber was--he did not like to do so--indeed, he would +not quite believe it could be his old friend Dick. The boys clapped +and thumped doubly when he came to the switching, and still more at +the tumble into the water. + +'Do you know who the fellow was?' asked Mr. Carter. + +'Yes, I knowed him,' said Harold, and stopped there. + +'But you had rather not tell. Is that it?' + +'Please, Sir, he's gone, and I wouldn't get him into trouble.' + +At this the school-boys perfectly stamped, and made signs of +cheering. + +'And who is the boy that came to help you?' + +'Paul Blackthorn, Sir; he's a boy from the Union who worked at Farmer +Shepherd's. He's a right good boy, Sir; but he's got no friends, nor +no--nothing,' said Harold, pausing ere he finished. + +'Why didn't you bring him up with you?' asked the master. + +'Please, Sir, he wouldn't come.' + +'Well,' said Mr. Carter, 'you've behaved like a brave fellow, and so +has your friend; and here's something in token of gratitude for the +rescue of our property.' + +It was a crown piece. + +'And here,' said the boy whose watch had been saved, 'here's half-a- +crown. Shake hands, you're a jolly fellow; and I'll tell my uncle +about you.' + +Harold was a true Englishman, and of course his only answer could be, +'Thank you, Sir, I only did my duty;' and as the other boys, whose +money had been rescued, brought forward more silver pledges of +gratitude, he added, 'I'll take it to Paul--thank you, Sir--thank +you, Sir.' + +'That's right; you must share, my lad,' said the school-master. 'It +is a reward for both of you.' + +'Thank you, Sir, it was MY duty,' repeated Harold, making his bow. + +'Sir, Sir, pray let us give him three cheers,' burst out the head boy +in an imploring voice. + +Mr. Carter smiled and nodded; and there was such a hearty roaring and +stamping, such 'hip, hip, hurrah!' bursting out again and again, that +the windows clattered, and the room seemed fuller of noise than it +could possibly hold. It is not quite certain that Mr. Carter did not +halloo as loud as any of the boys. + +Harold turned very red, and did not know which way to look while it +was going on, nor what to do when it was over, except to say a very +odd sort of 'Thank you, Sir;' but his heart leapt up with a kind of +warm grateful feeling of liking towards those boys for going along +with him so heartily; and the cheers gave a pleasure and glow that +the coins never would have done, even had he thought them his own by +right. + +He was not particularly good in this; he had never felt the pinch of +want, and was too young to care; and he did not happen to wish to buy +anything in particular just then. A selfish or a covetous boy would +not have felt as he did; but these were not his temptations. +Knowing, as he did, that the assault had been the consequence of his +foolish boasts about the money-letters, and that he, being in charge, +ought to defend them to the last gasp, he was sure he deserved the +very contrary from a reward, and never thought of the money belonging +to any one but Paul, who had by his own free will come to the rescue, +and saved the bag from robbery, himself from injury and disgrace. + +How happy he was in thinking what a windfall it was for his friend, +and how far it would go in fitting him up respectably! + +Peggy was ready to trot nearly as fast as he wished her down the lane +to the place where he had left Paul; and no sooner did Harold come in +sight of the olive-coloured rags, than he bawled out a loud 'Hurrah! +Come on, Paul; you don't know what I've got for you! 'Twas a young +gentleman's watch as you saved; and they've come down right handsome! +and here's twelve-and-sixpence for you--enough to rig you out like a +regular swell! Why, what's the matter?' he added in quite another +voice, as he had now come up to Paul, and found him sitting nearly +doubled up, with his head bent over his knees. + +He raised his face up as Harold came, and it was so ghastly pale, +that the boy, quite startled, jumped off his pony. + +'Why, old chap, what is it? Have you got knit up with cold, sitting +here?' + +'Yes, I suppose so,' said Paul; but his very voice shivered, his +teeth chattered, and his knees knocked together with the chill. 'The +pains run about me,' he added; but he spoke as if he hardly knew what +he was doing or saying. + +'You must come home with me, and Mother will give you something hot,' +said Harold. 'Come, you'll catch your death if you don't. You shall +ride home.' + +He pulled Paul from his seat with some difficulty, and was further +alarmed when he found that the poor fellow reeled and could hardly +stand; but he was somewhat roused, and knew better what he was about. +Harold tried to put him on the pony, but this could not be managed: +he could not help himself enough, Peggy always swerved aside, nor was +Harold strong enough to lift him up. + +The only thing to be done was for Harold to mount, and Paul to lean +against the saddle, while the pony walked. When they had to separate +at the ford, poor Paul's walk across the bridge was so feeble and +staggering, that Harold feared every moment that he would fall where +the rail was broken away, but was right glad to put his arm on his +shoulder again to help to hold him up. The moving brought a little +more life back to the poor boy's limbs, and he walked a little +better, and managed to tell Harold how he had felt too miserable to +speak to any one after the rating the farmer had given him, and how +he had set out on the tramp for more work, though with hope so nearly +dead in his heart, that he only wished he could sit down and die. He +had walked out of the village before people were about, so as not to +be noticed, and then had found himself so weak and weary that he +could not get on without food, and had sat down by the hedge to eat +the bit of bread he had with him. Then he had taken the first +lonely-looking way he saw, without knowing that it was one of +Harold's daily rides, and was slowly dragging himself up the hill +from the ford when the well-known voice, shouting for help, had +suddenly called him back, and filled him with spirit and speed that +were far enough off now, poor fellow! + +That was a terrible mile and a half--Harold sometimes thought it +would never be over, or that Paul would drop down, and he would have +to gallop off for help; but Paul was not one to give in, and somehow +they got back at last, and Harold, with his arm round his friend, +dragged him through the garden, and across the shop, and pushed him +into the arm-chair by the fire, Mrs. King following, and Ellen +rushing down from up-stairs. + +'There!' cried Harold, all in a breath, 'there he is! That rascal +tried to rob me on Ragglesford Bridge, and was nigh too much for me; +but HE there came and pulled him off me, and got spilt into the +river, and he's got a chill, and if you don't give him something +jolly hot, Mother, he'll catch his death!' + +Mrs. King thought so too: Paul's state looked to her more alarming +than it did even to Harold. He did not seem able to think or speak, +but kept rocking himself towards the fire, and that terrible +shivering shaking him all over. + +'Poor lad!' she said kindly. 'I'll tell you what, Harold, all you +can do is put him into your bed at once.--Here, Ellen, you run up +first, and bring me a shirt to warm for him. Then we'll get his own +clothes dried.' + +'No, no,' cried Harold, with a caper, 'we'll make a scare-crow of +'em. You don't know what I know, Mother. I've got twelve shillings +and sixpence here all his own; and you'll see what I won't do with it +at old Levi's, the second-hand clothes man, to-night.' + +Harold grew less noisy as he saw how little good the fire was doing +to his patient, and how ill his mother seemed to think him. He +quietly obeyed her, by getting him up-stairs, and putting him into +his own bed, the first in which Paul had lain down for more than four +months. Then Mrs. King sent Harold out for some gin; she thought hot +spirits and water the only chance of bringing back any life after +such a dreadful chill; and she and Ellen kept on warming flannels and +shawls to restore some heat, and to stop the trembling that shook the +bed, so that Alfred felt it, even in the next room, where he lay with +the door open, longing to be able to help, and wishing to understand +what could have happened. + +At last, the cordial and the warm applications effected some good. +Paul was able to say, 'I don't know why you are so good to me,' and +seemed ready to burst into a great fit of crying; but Mrs. King +managed to stop him by saying something about one good turn deserving +another, and that she hoped he was coming round now. + +Harold was now at leisure to tell the story in his brother's room. +Alfred did not grieve now at his brother's being able to do spirited +things; he laughed out loud, and said, 'Well done, Harold!' at the +switching, and rubbed his hands, and lighted up with glee, as he +heard of the Ragglesford boys and their cheers; and then, Harold went +eagerly on with his scheme for fitting up Paul at the second-hand +shop, both Mrs. King and Alfred taking great interest in his plans, +till Mrs. King hearing something like a moan, went back to Paul. + +She found his cheeks and hands as burning hot as they had been cold; +they were like live coals; and what was worse, such severe pains were +running all over his limbs, that he was squeezing the clothes into +his mouth that he might not scream aloud. + +Happily it was Mr. Blunt's day for calling; and before the morning +was over he came, and after a few words of explanation, he stood at +Paul's bedside. + +Not much given to tenderness towards the feelings of patients of his +degree, Mr. Blunt's advice was soon given. 'Yes, he is in for +rheumatic fever--won't be about again for a long time to come. I +say, Mistress, all you've got to do is to send in your boy to the +Union at Elbury, tell 'em to send out a cart for him, and take him in +as a casual pauper. Then they may pass him on to his parish.' + +Therewith Mr. Blunt went on to attend to Alfred. + +'Then you think this poor lad will be ill a long time, Sir?' said +Mrs. King, when Mr. Blunt was preparing to depart. + +'Of course he will; I never saw a clearer case! You'd better send +him off as fast as you can, while he can be moved. He'll have a +pretty bout of it, I dare say. + +'It is nothing infectious, of course, Sir?' said the mother, a little +startled by this hastiness. + +'Infectious--nonsense! why, you know better than that, Mrs. King; I +only meant that you'd better get rid of him as quick as you can, +unless you wish to set up a hospital at once--and a capital nurse +you'd be! I would leave word with the relieving officer for you, but +that I've got to go on to Stoke, and shan't be at home till too +late.' + +Mrs. King's heart ached for the poor forlorn orphan, when she +remembered what she had heard of the nursing in Elbury Union. She +did not know how to turn him from her door the day he had saved her +son from danger such as she could not think of without shuddering; +and yet, what could she do? Her rent and the winter before her, a +heavy doctor's bill, and the loss of Alfred's work! + +Slowly she went up the stairs again to the narrow landing that held +the bed where Paul Blackthorn lay. He was quite still, but there +were large tears coursing one after the other from his eyes, his +hollow cheeks quite glazed with them. + +'Is the pain so very bad?' she said in her soft voice, putting her +hand over his hot forehead, in the way that Alfred liked. + +'I don't--know,' he answered; and his black eyes, after looking up +once in her face with the piteous earnest glance that some loving +dogs have, shut themselves as if on purpose to keep in the tears, but +she saw the dew squeezing out through the eye-lashes. + +'My poor boy, I'm sure it's very bad for you,' she said again. + +'Please, don't speak so kind,' said Paul; and this time he could not +prevent a-sob. 'Nobody ever did so before, and--' he paused, and +went on, 'I suppose they do it up in Heaven, so I hope I shall die.' + +'You are vexing about the Union,' said Mrs. King, without answering +this last speech, or she knew that she should begin to cry herself. + +'I DID think I'd done with them,' said Paul, with another sob. 'I +said I'd never set foot in those four walls again! I was proud, +maybe; but please don't stop with me! If you wouldn't look and speak +like that, the place wouldn't seem so hard, seeing I'm bred to it, as +they say;' and he made an odd sort of attempt to laugh, which ended +in his choking himself with worse tears. + +'Harold is not gone yet,' said Mrs. King soothingly; 'we'll wait till +he comes in from his work, and see how you are, when you've had a +little sleep. Don't cry; you aren't going just yet.' + +That same earnest questioning glance, but with more hope in it, was +turned on her again; but she did not dare to bind herself, much as +she longed to take the wanderer to her home. She went on to her +son's room. + +'Mother, Mother,' Alfred cried in a whisper, so eager that it made +him cough, 'you can't never send him to the workhouse?' + +'I can't bear the thought, Alfy,' she said, the tears in her eyes; +'but I don't know what to do. It's not the trouble. That I'd take +with all my heart, but it is hard enough to live, and--' + +'I'm sure,' said Ellen, coming close, that her undertone might be +heard, 'Harold and I would never mind how much we were pinched.' + +'And I could go without--some things,' began Alfred. + +'And then,' went on the mother, 'you see, if we got straitened, and +Matilda found it out, she'd want to help, and I can't have her +savings touched; and yet I can't bear to let that poor lad be sent +off, so ill as he is, and after all he's done for Harold--such a good +boy, too, and one that's so thankful for a common kind word.' + +'O Mother, keep him!' said Alfred; 'don't you know how the Psalm +says, "God careth for the stranger, and provideth for the fatherless +and the widow"?' + +Mrs. King almost smiled. 'Yes, Alf, I think it would be trusting +God's word; but then there's my duty to you.' + +'You've not sent Harold off for the cart?' said Alfred. + +'No; I thought somehow, we have enough for to-day; and it goes +against me to send him away at once. I thought we'd wait to see how +it is to-morrow; and Harold won't mind having a bed made up in the +kitchen.' + +Tap, tap, on the counter. Some one had come in while they were +talking. It was Mr. Cope, very anxious to hear the truth of the +strange stories that were going about the place. Ellen and Alfred +thought it very tiresome that he was so long in coming up-stairs; but +the fact was, that their mother was very glad to talk the matter over +without them. She knew indeed that Mr. Cope was a very young man, +and not likely to be so well able as herself, with all her +experience, to decide what she could afford, or whether she ought to +follow her feelings at the risk of debt or of privations for her +delicate children; but she also knew that though he had not +experience, education had given him a wider and clearer range of +thought; and that, as her pastor, he ought to be consulted; so though +she did not exactly mean to make it a matter for his decision +(unless, indeed, he should have some view which had not occurred to +her), she knew that he was by far the best person to help her to see +her way, and form her own judgment. + +Mr. Cope heard all the story with as much eagerness as the +Ragglesford boys themselves, and laughed quite out loud at Harold's +spirited defence. + +'That's a good lad!' said he. 'Well, Mrs. King, I don't think you +need be very uneasy about your boy. When a fellow can stand up like +that in defence of his duty, there must be the right stuff in him to +be got at in time! And now, as to his ally--this other poor fellow-- +very kind of you to have taken him in.' + +'I couldn't do no other, Sir,' said Mrs. King; 'he came in so +drenched, and so terribly bad, I could do nothing but let him lie +down on Harold's bed; and now Dr. Blunt thinks he's going to have a +rheumatic fever, and wanted me to send in to the relieving officer, +to have him removed, but I don't know how to do that; the poor lad +doesn't say one word against it, but I can see it cuts him to the +heart; and they do tell such stories of the nurses at the Union, that +it does seem hard to send him there, such an innocent boy, too, and +one that doesn't seem to know how to believe it if one says a kind +word to him.' The tears were in Mrs. King's eyes as she went on: 'I +do wish to let him stay here and do what I can for him, with all my +heart, and so does all the children, but I don't hardly know what's +right by them, poor things. If the parish would but allow him just +one shilling and sixpence a week out of the house, I think I could do +it.' + +'What, with your own boy in such a state, you could undertake to +nurse a stranger through a rheumatic fever!' + +'It wouldn't make much difference, Sir,' said Mrs. King. 'You see I +am up a good deal most nights with Alfred, and we have fire and +candle almost always alight. I should only be glad to do it for a +poor motherless lad like that, except for the cost; and I thought +perhaps if you could speak to the Guardians, they might allow him +ever so little, because there will be expenses.' + +Mr. Cope had not much hope from the parish, so he said, 'Mr. Shepherd +ought to do something for him after he has worked for him so long. +He has been looking wretchedly ill for some time past; and I dare say +half this illness is brought on by such lodging and living as he got +there. But what did you say about some eggs?' + +Mrs. King told him; and he stood a moment thoughtful, then said, +'Well, I'll go and see about it,' and strode across to the farm. + +When Mr. Cope came back, Ellen was serving a customer. He stood +looking redder than they had ever seen him, and tapping the toe of +his boot impatiently with his stick; and the moment the buyer had +turned away, he said, 'Ellen, ask your mother to be kind enough to +come down.' + +Mrs. King came, and found the young Curate in such a state of +indignation, as he could not keep to himself. He had learnt more +than he had ever known, or she had ever known, of the oppression that +the farmer and his wife and Tom Boldre had practised on the +friendless stranger, and he was burning with all the keen generous +displeasure of one new to such base ways. At the gate he had met, +going home to dinner, John Farden with Mrs. Hayward, who had been +charing at the farm. Both had spoken out, and he had learned how far +below the value of his labour the boy had been paid, how he had been +struck, abused, and hunted about, as would never have been done to +one who had a father to take his part. And he had further heard +Farden's statement of having himself thrown away the eggs, and Mrs. +Hayward's declaration that she verily believed that the farmer only +made the accusation an excuse for hurrying the lad off because he +thought him faltering for a fever, and wouldn't have him sick there. + +This was shocking enough; Mr. Cope had thought it merely the kind- +hearted woman's angry construction, but it was still worse when he +came to the farmer and his wife. + +So used were they to think it their business to wring the utmost they +could out of whatever came in their way, that they had not the +slightest shame about it. They thought they had done a thing to be +proud of in making such a good bargain of the lad, and getting so +much work out of him for so little pay; in fact, that they had been +rather weakly kind in granting him the freedom of the hay-loft; the +notion of his dishonesty was firmly fixed in their heads, though +there was not a charge to bring against him. This was chiefly +because they had begun by setting him down as a convict, and because +they could not imagine any one living honestly on what they gave him. +And lastly, the farmer thought the cleverest stroke of all, was the +having got rid of him just as winter was coming on and work was +scarce, and when there seemed to be a chance of his being laid up to +encumber the rates. Mr. Cope was quite breathless after the answer +he had made to them. He had never spoken so strongly in his life +before, and he could hardly believe his own ears, that people could +be found, not only to do such things, but to be proud of having done +them. + +It is to be hoped there are not many such thoroughgoing tyrants; but +selfishness is always ready to make any one into a tyrant, and Mammon +is a false god, who manages to make his servants satisfied that they +are doing their duty. + +It was plain enough that no help was to be expected from the farm, +and neither Mrs. King nor the clergyman thought there was much hope +in the Guardians; however, they were to be applied to, and this would +be at least a reprieve for Paul. Mr. Cope went up to see him, and +found Harold sitting on the top step of the stairs. + +'Well, boys,' he said, in his hearty voice, 'so you've had a battle, +I hear. I'm glad it turned out better than your namesake's at +Hastings.' + +Paul was not too ill to smile at this; and Harold modestly said, 'It +was all along of he, Sir.' + +'And he seems to be the chief sufferer.--Are you in much pain, Paul?' + +'Sometimes, Sir, when I try to move,' said Paul; 'but it is better +when I'm still.' + +'You've had a harder time of it than I supposed, my boy,' said Mr. +Cope. 'Why did you never let me know how you were treated?' + +Paul's face shewed more wonder than anything else. 'Thank you, Sir,' +he said, 'I didn't think it was any one's business.' + +'No one's business!' exclaimed the young clergyman. 'It is every +one's business to see justice done, and it should never have gone on +so if you had spoken. Why didn't you?' + +'I didn't think it would be any use,' again said Paul. 'There was +old Joe Joiner, he always said 'twas a hard world to live in, and +that there was nothing for it but to grin and bear it.' + +'There's something better to be done than to grin,' said Mr. Cope. + +'Yes, I know, Sir,' said Paul, with a brighter gleam on his face; +'and I seem to understand that better since I came here. I was +thinking,' he added, 'if they pass me back to Upperscote, I'll tell +old Joe that folks are much kinder than he told me, by far.' + +'Kinder--I should not have thought that your experience!' exclaimed +Mr. Cope, his head still running on the Shepherds. + +But Paul did not seem to think of them at all, or else to take their +treatment as a matter-of-course, as he did his Union hardships. +There was a glistening in his eyes; and he moved his head so as to +sign down-stairs, as he said, 'I didn't think there was ne'er a one +in the world like HER.' + +'What, Mrs. King? I don't think there are many,' said Mr. Cope +warmly. 'And yet I hope there are.' + +'Ay, Sir,' said Paul fervently. 'And there's Harold, and John +Farden, and all the chaps. Please, Sir, when I'm gone away, will you +tell them all that I'll never forget 'em? and I'll be happier as long +as I live for knowing that there are such good-hearted folks.' + +Mr. Cope felt trebly moved towards one who thought harshness so much +more natural than kindness, and who received the one so submissively, +the other so gratefully; but the conversation was interrupted by +Harold's exclaiming that my Lady in her carriage was stopping at the +gate, and Mother was running out to her. + +Rumours of the post-office robbery, as little Miss Selby called it, +had travelled up to the Grange, and she was wild to know what had +happened to Harold; but her grandmamma, not knowing what highway +robbers might be roaming about Friarswood, would not hear of her +walking to the post-office, and drove thither with her herself, in +full state, close carriage, coachman and footman; and there was Mrs. +King, with her head in at the carriage window, telling all the story. + +'So you have this youth here?' said Lady Jane. + +'Yes, my Lady; he was so poorly that I couldn't but let him lie +down.' + +'And you have not sent him to the workhouse yet?' + +'Why, no, not yet, my Lady; I thought I would wait to see how he is +to-morrow.' + +'You had better take care, Mary,' said Lady Jane. 'You'll have him +too ill to be moved; and then what will you do? a great lad of that +age, and with illness enough in the house already!' She sighed, and +it was not said unkindly; but Mrs. King answered with something about +his being so good a lad, and so friendless. And Miss Jane exclaimed, +'O Grandmamma, it does seem so hard to send him to the workhouse!' + +'Do not talk like a silly child, my dear,' said Lady Jane. 'Mary is +much too sensible to think of saddling herself with such a charge-- +not fit for her, nor the children either--even if the parish made it +worth her while, which it never will. The Union is intended to +provide for such cases of destitution; and depend on it, the youth +looks to nothing else.' + +'No, my Lady,' said Mrs. King; 'he is so patient and meek about it, +that it goes to one's very heart.' + +'Ay, ay,' said the old lady; 'but don't be soft-hearted and weak, +Mary. It is not what I expect of you, as a sensible woman, to be +harbouring a mere vagrant whom you know nothing about, and injuring +your own children.' + +'Indeed, my Lady,' began Mrs. King, 'I've known the poor boy these +four months, and so has Mr. Cope; and he is as steady and serious a +boy as ever lived.' + +'Very likely,' said Lady Jane; 'and I am sure I would do anything for +him--give him work when he is out again, or send him with a paper to +the county hospital. Eh?' + +But the county hospital was thirty miles off; and the receiving day +was not till Saturday. That would not do. + +'Well,' added Lady Jane, 'I'll drive home directly, and send Price +with the spring covered cart to take him in to Elbury. That will be +better for him than jolting in the open cart they would send for +him.' + +'Why, thank you, my Lady, but I--I had passed my word that he should +not go to-day.' + +Lady Jane made a gesture as if Mary King were a hopelessly weak good- +natured woman; and shaking her head at her with a sort of lady-like +vexation, ordered the coachman to drive on. + +My Lady was put out. No wonder. She was a very sensible, managing +woman herself, and justly and up-rightly kind to all her dependants; +and she expected every one else to be sternly and wisely kind in the +same pattern. Mrs. King was one whom she highly esteemed for her +sense and good judgment, and she was the more provoked with her for +any failure in these respects. If she had known Paul as the Kings +did, it is probable she might have felt like them. Not knowing him, +nor knowing the secrets of Elbury Union, she thought it Mrs. King's +clear duty to sacrifice him for her children's sake. Moreover, Lady +Jane had strict laws against lodgers--the greatest kindness she could +do her tenants, though often against their will. So to have her +model woman receiving a strange boy into her house, even under the +circumstances, was beyond bearing. + +So Mrs. King stood on her threshold, knowing that to keep Paul +Blackthorn would be an offence to her best friend and patroness. +Moreover, Mr. Cope was gone, without having left her a word of advice +to decide her one way or the other. + + + +CHAPTER X--CHRISTMAS DAY + + + +Things are rather apt to settle themselves; and so did Paul +Blackthorn's stay at the post-office, for the poor boy was in such an +agony of pain all night, and the fever ran so high, that it was +impossible to think of moving him, even if the waiting upon him in +such suffering had not made Mrs. King feel that she could not dismiss +him to careless hands. His patience, gratitude, and surprise at +every trouble she took for him were very endearing, as were the +efforts he made to stifle and suppress moans and cries that the +terrible aches would wring from him, so as not to disturb Alfred. +When towards morning the fever ran to his head, and he did not know +what he said, it was more moving still to see that the instinct of +keeping quiet for some one's sake still suppressed his voice. Then, +too, his wanderings shewed under what dread and harshness his life +had been spent, and what his horror was of a return to the workhouse. +In his senses, he would never have thought of asking to remain at +Friarswood; but in his half-conscious state, he implored again and +again not to be sent away, and talked about not going back, but only +being left in a corner to die; and Mrs. King, without knowing what +she was about, soothed him by telling him to lie still, for he was +not going to that place again. At day-break she sent Harold, on his +way to the post, for an order from the relieving officer for medical +attendance; and, after some long and weary hours, the Union doctor +came. He said, like Mr. Blunt, that it was a rheumatic fever, the +effect of hardship and exposure; for which perhaps poor Paul--after +his regular meals, warm clothing, and full shelter, in the workhouse- +-was less prepared than many a country lad, whose days had been much +happier, but who had been rendered more hardy by often going without +some of those necessaries which were provided for the paupers. + +The head continued so much affected, that the doctor said the hair +must be taken off; which was done by old Master Warren, who singed +the horses in the autumn, killed the pigs in the winter, and shaved +the men on Saturday night. It was a very good thing for all parties; +and he would take no pay for his trouble, but sent down a pitcher +with what he called 'all manner of yarbs' steeping in it, with which, +as he said, to 'ferment the boy's limbs.' Foment was what he meant; +and Mrs. King thought, as it was kindly intended, and could do no +harm, she would try if it would do any good; but she could not find +that it made much difference whether she used that or common warm +water. However, the good will made Paul smile, and helped to change +his notion about its being very few that had any compassion for a +stranger. So, too, did good Mrs. Hayward, who, when he was at the +worst, twice came to sit up all night with him after her day's work; +and though she was not as tender a nurse as Mrs. King, treated him +like her own son, and moreover carried off to her own tub all the +clothes she could find ready to be washed, and would not take so much +as a mouthful of meat or drink in return, struggling, toil-worn body +as she was. + +The parish, as might have been foreseen, would afford nothing but the +doctor to a chance-comer such as Paul. If he needed more, he might +come into the House, and be passed home to Upperscote. + +But by the time this reply came, Mrs. King not only felt that it +would be almost murder to send a person in such a state four miles on +a November day, but she was caring so much for her patient, that it +sounded almost as impossible as to send Alfred away. + +Besides, she had remembered the cup of cold water, she had thought of +the widow's cruse of oil and barrel of meal, and she had called to +mind, 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My +brethren, ye have done it unto Me;' and thereupon she took heart, and +made up her mind that it was right to tend the sick lad; and that +even if she should bring trouble and want on herself and her +children, it would be a Heaven-sent trial that would be good for +them. + +So she made up her resolution to a winter of toil, anxiety, and +trouble, and to Lady Jane's withdrawal of favour; and thinking her +ungrateful, which, to say the truth, grieved her more than anything +else, excepting of course her forebodings for Alfred. + +Ellen was in great distress about my Lady's displeasure. Not that +she dreamt of her mother's giving up Paul on that account; but she +was very fond of her little foster-sister, and of many of the maid- +servants, and her visits to the Grange were the chief change and +amusement she ever had. So while Mrs. King was busy between the +shop, her work, and Paul, Ellen sat by her brother, making the +housekeeper's winter dress, and imagining all sorts of dreadful +things that might come of my Lady being angry with them, till Alfred +grew quite out of patience. 'Well, suppose and suppose,' he said, +'suppose it was not to happen at all! Why, Mother's doing right +would be any good for nothing if she only did it to please my Lady.' + +Certainly this was the very touchstone to shew whether the fear of +man were the guide. And Ellen was still more terrified that day, for +when she went across to the farm for the evening's supply of milk and +butter, Mrs. Shepherd launched out into such a torrent of abuse +against her and her mother, that she came home trembling from head to +foot; and Mrs. King declared she should never go thither again. They +would send to Mrs. Price's for the little bit of fresh butter that +was real nourishment to Alfred: the healthy ones would save by going +without any. + +One word more as to the Shepherds, and then we have done with him. +On the Sunday, Mr. Cope had an elder brother staying with them, who +preached on the lesson for the day, the second chapter of the Prophet +Habakkuk; and when he came to the text, 'Woe to him that coveteth an +evil covetousness to his house,' he brought in some of the like +passages, the threats to those that 'grind the faces of the poor,' +that 'oppress the hireling in his wages,' and that terrible saying of +St. James, 'Behold, the hire of the labourers who have reaped down +your fields, which is of you kept by fraud, crieth; and the cries of +them which have reaped are entered into the ears of the Lord of +Sabbath.' + +Three days after, the Curate was very much amazed to hear that Mr. +and Mrs. Shepherd did not choose to be preached at in their own +church, and never meant to come thither again. Now it so happened +that he could testify that the sermon had been written five years +ago, and that his brother had preached it without knowing that the +Shepherds were in existence, for he had only come late the night +before, and there was so much to say about their home, that the +younger brother had not said a word about his parish before church, +though the Kings and their guests were very near his heart. + +But it was of no use to say so. It was the TRUTH that wounded the +farmer and his wife, and no one could make that otherwise. They did +not choose to hear their sin rebuked, so they made an excuse by +pretending to take offence, and except when they now and then went to +the next parish to a meeting-house, cut themselves off from all that +might disturb them in the sole pursuit of gain. It is awful to think +of such hardening of the heart, first towards man, then towards the +warnings of God. + +And mind, whoever chooses profit rather than mercy, is in the path of +Farmer Shepherd. + +Some certainty as to Lady Jane Selby's feelings came on the second +evening of Paul's illness. Mrs. Crabbe, the housekeeper, was seen +with infinite trouble and disgust getting her large person over the +stiles across the path fields. A call from her was almost a greater +event than one from my Lady herself. Why! Mother had been her +still-room maid, and always spoke to her as 'Ma'am,' and she called +her 'Mary,' and she had chosen Matilda's name for her, and had given +her a silver watch! + +So when Mrs. Crabbe had found her way in, and had been set down to +rest in the arm-chair, she proceeded to give 'Mary' a good round +scolding against being weak and soft-hearted, saying at last that my +Lady was quite in a way about it. She was sure that Harold would +catch his death of cold, putting him to sleep in the kitchen, upon +the stones--and so--my Lady had sent off the cart with the little +chair-bed, that would take down and put up again--mattress, bed- +clothes, and all. + +That was a comfortable finish to the scolding! Not that it was a +finish though, for the thanks made Mrs. Crabbe afraid the family +thought themselves forgiven, so she went on to declare they all would +be pinched, and get into debt, and she should advise her god- +daughter, Matilda, not to help them with a farthing of her wages, and +as to going without their full meals, that was what none of them were +fit to do. With which it appeared that the cart was bringing a can +of broth, a couple of rabbits, some calves'-feet jelly, and a bottle +of port wine for Alfred, who lived on that and cod-liver oil more +than on any other nourishment. + +At that rate, Lady Jane's displeasure did not seem likely to do much +harm; but there was pain in it too, for when Mrs. Crabbe had managed +to get up-stairs, past the patch-work quilt that was hung up to +shelter Paul from the draught, and had seen Alfred, and been shocked +to find how much wasted he was since she last had seen him, she said, +'One thing you know--my Lady says she can't have Miss Selby coming +down here to see Alfred while this great lad is always about. And +I'm sure it is not proper for her at any time, such a young lady as +she is, over all those inconvenient stiles. I declare I shall speak +to Mr. Price about them.' + +Losing Miss Jane's visits was to Alfred like losing a sunbeam, and +his spirit felt very dreary after he had heard this sentence. Ellen +knew her well enough to suspect that she was very sorry, but that she +could not help herself; and Mrs. King caught the brother and sister +making such grumbling speeches to each other about the old lady's +crossness, that her faithful, grateful spirit was quite grieved, and +she spoke strongly up for the just, right-minded lady to whom she had +loyally looked up for many and many a year, though, with the right +sort of independence, she would not give up to any one's opinion what +she knew to be her duty. + +'We all knew it must cost us something,' she said, 'and we'll try to +be ready with it, though it does go to one's heart that the first +should be what vexes you, my Alfy; but it won't be for long.' + +'No, Mother; but if it ain't here long? Oh! I don't seem to have +nothing to look to if Miss Jane ain't coming here no more, with her +pretty ways!' + +And there were large tears on his cheeks. Mrs. King had tears in her +eyes too, but she bent down over the boy, and turning his eyes to the +little picture on the wall, she said in a whisper in his ear, 'Didn't +He bear His Cross for the sake of other people?' Alfred did not +answer; he turned his face in towards the pillow, and though Ellen +thought he was crying, it did not seem to her to be so sadly. + +Cost them something their kindness did. To be sure, there came a +party of boys with the master from Ragglesford, when there had been +time for them to write the history of the robbery to their homes; and +as it came just before the monthly letter which they all had to write +by way of practice, to be shewn up to the master, it was a real +treasure to them to have such a story to tell. Some of their +friends, especially the uncle who gave the watch, had sent small sums +of money for the lad who had behaved so well, and these altogether +came to a fair amount, which the boys were highly pleased to give +over into Mrs. King's hands. She, like Harold, never made the +smallest question that it was all for Paul's benefit, and though, +when she mentioned it to him, he gave a cheery smile, and said it +would lessen the cost of his illness to her, yet she put it all aside +with the first twelve-and-sixpence. She told Ellen that it went +against her to touch the orphan's money, and that unless it came to +very bad times indeed, it should be kept to set him up decently when +he should recover. + +No one else could afford aid in money, not Mr. Cope, for he had +little more than a maintenance for himself; indeed, Mrs. King was not +in a station where it would seem becoming to offer alms to her. Lady +Jane gave help in nourishing food, but the days when this would come +were uncertain, and she had made a resolution against undertaking any +share of the expense, lest she should seem to encourage Mary King, as +she said, in such weak good nature--cramming up her house with a +strange boy like that, when she had quite enough to do with her own +son. So they had to fight on as they could; and the first week, when +Paul's illness was at the height, Ellen had so much more to do for +Alfred and about the house, and was so continually called off her +work, that she could not finish Mrs. Crabbe's gown as soon as was +expected; and the ladies' maid, who was kept waiting, took huff, and +sent her new purple silk to Elbury to be madeup. + +It is not quite certain that Ellen did not shed a few tears. + +Harold had to go without his butter, and once took it much to heart +that his mother would buy no shrimps for tea, but after some one had +whispered to him that if there were a trouble about rent, or about +Mr. Blunt's bill, Peggy would be sold, he bore it all pretty well; +and after all, Alfred and Paul were so apt to give him tastes of +their dainties, that he had not much loss! + +Rent was the care. The pig was killed and cut up to great advantage; +Mrs. King sold a side of it at once, which went a good way towards +it, but not the whole; and there was a bad debt of John Farden's for +bread, contracted last winter, and which he had never paid off in the +summer. That would just have made it up, but what hopes were there +of that? + +Just then, however, came a parcel from Matilda. It was her way of +helping her family to send them the clothes which her mistresses +allowed her to have when they left them off, when Mrs. King either +made them up for herself or Ellen, or disposed of them at Elbury. + +What a treat those parcels were! How curious were all the party at +the unpacking, looking at the many odd things that were sure to come +out, on the happy doubtful certainty that each one would be +remembered by the good sister. + +So there were the little directed parcels--a neat knitted grey and +black handkerchief for Mother to wear in the shop; a whole roll of +fashion-books for Ellen, and a nice little pocket-book besides; and a +bundle of 'Illustrated News' to amuse the boys; a precious little +square book of 'Hymns for the Sick' for Alfred; and a famous pair of +riding-gloves, like bears' paws, for Harold. And what rolls besides! +Worn flimsy dresses, once pretty, but now only fit for the old- +clothes man, yet whose trimmings Ellen pulled out and studied; +bonnets that looked as if they had been sat upon; rolls of soft +ragged cambric handkerchiefs, on which Mrs. King seized as the most +valuable part of the cargo, so useful would they be to poor Alfred; +some few real good things, in especial, a beautiful thick silk dress +which had been stained, but which dyeing would render very useful; +and a particularly nice grey cloth mantle, which Matilda had +mentioned in her letter as likely to be useful to Ellen--it was not +at all the worse for wear, except as to the lining of the hood, and +she should just fancy Ellen in it. + +Ellen could just fancy herself in it. She had a black silk one, +which had come in the same way, and looked very well, but it was just +turning off, and it was not warm enough for winter without a shawl +under it. That grey looked as if it was made for her, it suited her +shoulders and her shape so well! She put it on and twisted about in +it, and then she saw her good mother not saying one word, and knew +she was thinking of the sum that was wanting to the rent. + +'Well, Mother,' said Ellen, 'I'll go in and take the things to Betsey +on the next market-day, and if we can get thirty shillings on them +without the mantle--' + +'Yes, if you can, my dear,' said her mother; 'I'm sure I should be +very glad for you to have it, but you see--' + +And Mrs. King sighed. + +Ellen passed by Paul on the landing, and saw him with his face +flushed with pain and fever, trying to smile at her. She remembered +how her unkind words had brought trouble on him, and how her mother +had begun by telling her that they must give up their own wishes if +they were to nurse him. + +Ellen went to Elbury on the market-day, and by the help of Betsey +Hardman, she got great credit for her bargaining. She brought home +thirty shillings, and ten shillings' worth of soap for the shop, +where that article was running low; but she did not bring home the +cloak, though Betsey had told her a silk cloak over a shawl looked so +mean! and she feared all the servants at the Grange would think the +same! + +'They always were good children to me,' said Mrs. King to Mr. Cope, +'but somehow, since Paul has been here, I think they are better than +ever! There's poor Alfred, though his cough has been so bad of late, +has been so thoughtful and so good; he says he's quite ashamed to +find how patient Paul is under so much sharper pain than he ever had, +and he's ready to send anything to Paul that he fancies will do him +good--quite carried out of himself, you see; and there's Harold, so +much steadier; I've hardly had to find fault with him since that poor +boy made off--he's sure to come in in time, and takes care not to +disturb his brother, and helps his sister and me all he can.' + +Mr. Cope was not at all surprised that the work of mercy was blessed +to all the little household, nor that it drew out all the better side +of their dispositions. + +There was no positive change, nor sudden resolution, to alter Harold; +but he had been a good deal startled by Dick's wickedness, and in him +had lost a tempter. Besides, he considered Paul as his own friend, +received for his sake, and therefore felt himself bound to do all he +could for him, and though he was no nurse, he could do much to set +his mother and Ellen free to attend to their patients. And Paul's +illness, though so much less dangerous, frightened and subdued Harold +much more than the quiet gradual pining away of Alfred, to which he +was used. The severe pain, the raging fever, and the ramblings in +talk, were much more fearful things to witness than the low cough, +the wearing sore, and the helpless languor, though there was much +hope for the one, and scarcely any for the other. While to Harold's +apprehension, Alfred was always just the same, only worsening visibly +from month to month; Paul was better or worse every time he came in, +and when fresh from hearing his breath gasp with sharp pain, or +receiving his feeble thanks for some slight service, it was not in +Harold to go out and get into thoughtless mischief. + +Moreover, there were helpful things to do at home, such as Harold +liked. He was fond of chopping wood, so he was very obliging about +the oven, and what he liked best of all was helping his mother in +certain evening cookeries of sweet-meats, by receipts from Mrs. +Crabbe. On the day of the expedition from Ragglesford, the young +gentlemen had found out that Mrs. King's bottles contained what they +called 'the real article and no mistake,' much better than what the +old woman at the turnpike sold; and so they were, for Mrs. King made +them herself, and, like an honest woman, without a morsel of sham in +them. She was not going to break the Eighth Commandment by cheating +in a comfit any more than by stealing a purse; and the children of +Friarswood had long known that, and bought all the 'lollies' that +they were not naughty enough to buy on Sundays, when, as may be +supposed, her shutters were not shut only for a decent show. + +And now Harold did not often ride up to the school without some +little master giving him a commission for some variety of sweet- +stuff; and though Mrs. King used to say it was a pity the children +should throw away their money in that fashion, it brought a good deal +into her till, and Harold greatly liked assisting at the manufacture. +How often he licked his fingers during the process need not be +mentioned; but his objection to Ragglesford was quite gone off, now +that some one was nearly certain to be looking out for him, with a +good-natured greeting, or an inquiry for Paul. He knew one little +boy from another, and felt friendly with them all, and he really was +quite grieved when the holidays came, and they wished him good-bye. +The coach that had been hired to take them to Elbury seemed something +to watch for now, and some thoughtful boy stopped all the whooping +and hurraing as they came near the house on the bridge. Some other +stopped the coach, and they all came dropping off it like a swarm of +black flies, and tumbling into the shop, where Mrs. King and her +daughter had need to have had a dozen pair of hands to have served +them, and they did not go till they had cleared out her entire stock +of sweet things and gingerbread; nay, some of them would have gone +off without their change, if she had not raced out to catch them with +it after they were climbing up the coach, and then the silly fellows +said they hated coppers! And meeting Harold and his post-bag on his +way home from Elbury, they raised such a tremendous cheer at him that +poor Peggy seemed to make but three springs from the milestone to the +bridge, and he could not so much as touch his cap by way of answer. + +Somehow, even after those droll customers were gone, every Saturday's +reckoning was a satisfactory one. More always seemed to come in than +went out. The potatoes had been unusually free from disease in Mrs. +King's garden, and every one came for them; the second pig turned out +well; a lodger at the butcher's took a fancy to her buns; and on the +whole, winter, when her receipts were generally at the lowest, was +now quite a prosperous time with her. The great pressure and near +anxiety she had expected had not come, and something was being put by +every week towards the bill for flour, and for Mr. Blunt's account, +so that she began to hope that after all the Savings Bank would not +have to be left quite bare. + +Quite unexpectedly, John Farden came in for a share of the savings of +an old aunt at service, and, like an honest fellow as he was, he got +himself out of debt at once. This quite settled all Mrs. King's +fears; Mr. Blunt and the miller would both have their due, and she +really believed she should be no poorer! + +Then she recollected the widow's cruse of oil, and tears of +thankfulness and faith came into her eyes, and other tears dropped +when she remembered the other more precious comfort that the stranger +had brought into the widow's house, but she knew that the days of +miracles and cures past hope were gone, and that the Christian +woman's promise was 'that her children should come again,' but not +till the resurrection of the just. + +And though to her eye each frost was freshly piercing her boy's +breast, each warm damp day he faded into greater feebleness, yet the +hope was far clearer. He was happy and content. He had laid hold of +the blessed hope of Everlasting Life, and was learning to believe +that the Cross laid on him here was in mercy to make him fit for +Heaven, first making him afraid and sorry for his sins, and ready to +turn to Him Who could take them away, and then almost becoming +gladness, in the thought of following his Master, though so far off. + +Not that Alfred often said such things, but they breathed peace over +his mind, and made Scripture-reading, prayers, and hymns very +delightful to him, especially those in Matilda's book; and he dwelt +more than he told any one on Mr. Cope's promise, when he trusted to +be made more fully 'one with Christ' in the partaking of His Cup of +Life. It used to be his treat, when no one was looking, to read over +that Service in his Prayer-book, and to think of the time. It was +like a kind of step; he could fix his mind on that, and the sense of +forgiveness he hoped for therein, better than on the great change +that was coming; when there was much fear and shrinking from the +pain, and some dread of what as yet seemed strange and unknown, he +thought he should feel lifted up so as to be able to bear the +thought, when that holy Feast should have come to him. + +All this made him much less occupied with himself, and he took much +more share in what was going on; he could be amused and playful, +cared for all that Ellen and Harold did, and was inclined to make the +most of his time with his brother. It was like old happy times, now +that Alfred had ceased to be fretful, and Harold took heed not to +distress him. + +One thing to which Alfred looked forward greatly, was Paul's being +able to come into his room, and the two on their opposite sides of +the wall made many pleasant schemes for the talk and reading that +were to go on. But when the day came, Alfred was more disappointed +than pleased. + +Paul had been cased, by Lady Jane's orders, in flannel; he had over +that a pair of trousers of Alfred's--much too long, for the Kings +were very tall, and he was small and stunted in growth--and a great +wrapping-gown that Mr. Cope had once worn when he was ill at college, +and over his shaven head a night-cap that had been their father's. + +Ellen, with many directions from Alfred, had made him up a couch with +three chairs, and the cushions Alfred used to have when he could +leave his bed; the fire was made up brightly, and Mrs. King and +Harold helped Paul into the room. + +But all the rheumatic pain was by no means over, and walking made him +feel it; he was dreadfully weak, and was so giddy and faint after the +first few steps, that they could not bring him to shake hands with +Alfred as both had wished, but had to lay him down as fast as they +could. So tired was he, that he could hardly say anything all the +time he was there; and Alfred had to keep silence for fear of +wearying him still more. There was a sort of shyness, too, which +hindered the two from even letting their eyes meet, often as they had +heard each other's voices, and had greeted one another through the +thin partition. As Paul lay with his eyes shut, Alfred raised +himself to take a good survey of the sharp pinched features, the +hollow cheeks, deep-sunk pits for the eyes,--and yellow ghastly skin +of the worn face, and the figure, so small and wasted that it was +like nothing, curled up in all those wraps. One who could read faces +better than young Alfred could, would have gathered not only that the +boy who lay there had gone through a great deal, but that there was +much mind and thought crushed down by misery, and a gentle nature not +fit to stand up alone against it, and so sinking down without +exertion. + +And when Alfred was learning a verse of his favourite hymn - + + +'There is a rill whose waters rise--' + + +Paul's eye-lids rose, and looked him all over dreamily, comparing him +perhaps with the notions he had carried away from his two former +glimpses. Alfred did not look now so utterly different from anything +he had seen before, since Mrs. King and Ellen had been hovering round +his bed for nearly a month past; but still the fair skin, pink +colour, dark eye-lashes, glossy hair, and white hands, were like a +dream to him, as if they belonged to the pure land whither Alfred was +going, and he was quite loath to hear him speak like another boy, as +he knew he could do, having often listened to his talk through the +wall. At the least sign of Alfred's looking up, he turned away his +eyes as if he had been doing something by stealth. + +He came in continually after this; and little things each day, and +Harold's talk, made the two acquainted and like boys together; but it +was not till Christmas Day that they felt like knowing each other. + +It was the first time Paul felt himself able to be of any use, for he +was to be left in charge of Alfred, while Mrs. King and both her +other children went to church. Paul was sadly crippled still, and +every frost filled his bones with acute pain, and bent him like an +old man, so that he was still a long way from getting down-stairs, +but he could make a shift to get about the room, and he looked +greatly pleased when Alfred declared that he should want nobody else +to stay with him in the morning. + +Very glad he was that his mother would not be kept from Ellen's first +Holy Communion. Owing to the Curate not being a priest, the Feast +had not been celebrated since Michaelmas; but a clergyman had come to +help Mr. Cope, that the parish might not be deprived of the Festival +on such a day as Christmas. + +Harold, though in a much better mood than at the Confirmation time, +was not as much concerned to miss it as perhaps he ought to have +been. Thought had not come to him yet, and his head was full of the +dinner with the servants at the Grange. It was sad that he and Ellen +should alone be able to go to it; but it would be famous for all +that! Ay, and so were the young postman's Christmas-boxes! + +So Paul and Alfred were left together, and held their tongues for +full five minutes, because both felt so odd. Then Alfred said +something about reading the Service, and Paul offered to read it to +him. + +Paul had not only been very well taught, but had a certain gift, such +as not many people have, for reading aloud well. Alfred listened to +those Psalms and Lessons as if they had quite a new meaning in them, +for the right sound and stress on the right words made them sound +quite like another thing; and so Alfred said when he left off. + +'I'm sure they do to me,' said Paul. 'I didn't know much about +"good-will to men" last Christmas.' + +'You've not had overmuch good-will from them, neither,' said Alfred, +'since you came out.' + +'What! not since I've been at Friarswood?' exclaimed Paul. 'Why, I +used to think all THAT was only something in a book.' + +'All what?' asked Alfred. + +'All about--why, loving one's neighbour--and the Good Samaritan, and +so on. I never saw any one do it, you know, but it was comfortable +like to read about it; and when I watched to your mother and all of +you, I saw how it was about one's neighbour; and then, what with that +and Mr. Cope's teaching, I got to feel how it was--about God!' and +Paul's face looked very grave and peaceful. + +'Well,' said Alfred, 'I don't know as I ever cared about it much--not +since I was a little boy. It was the fun last Christmas.' + +And Paul looking curious, Alfred told all about the going out for +holly, and the dining at the Grange, and the snap-dragon over the +pudding, till he grew so eager and animated that he lost breath, and +his painful cough came on, so that he could just whisper, 'What did +you do?' + +'Oh! I don't know. We had prayers, and there was roast beef for +dinner, but they gave it to me where it was raw, and I couldn't eat +it. Those that had friends went out; but 'twasn't much unlike other +days.' + +'Poor Paul!' sighed Alfred. + +'It won't be like that again, though,' said Paul, 'even if I was in a +Union. I know--what I know now.' + +'And, Paul,' said Alfred, after a pause, 'there's one thing I should +like if I was you. You know our Blessed Saviour had no house over +Him, but was left out of the inn, and nobody cared for Him.' + +Paul did not make any answer; and Alfred blushed all over. + +Presently Alfred said, 'Harold will run in soon. I say, Paul, would +you mind reading me what they will say after the Holy Sacrament--what +the Angels sang is the beginning.' + +Paul found it, and felt as if he must stand to read such praise. + +'Thank you,' said Alfred. 'I'm glad Mother and Ellen are there. +They'll remember us, you know. Did you hear what Mr. Cope promised +me?' + +Paul had not heard; and Alfred told him, adding, 'It will be the +Ember-week in Lent. You'll be one with me then, Paul?' + +'I'd like to promise,' said Paul fervently; 'but you see, when I'm +well--' + +'Oh, you won't go away for good. My Lady, or Mr. Cope, will get you +work; and I want you to be Mother's good son instead of me; and a +brother to Harold and Ellen.' + +'I'd never go if I could help it,' said Paul; 'I sometimes wish I'd +never got better! I wish I could change with you, Alfred; nobody +would care if 'twas me; nor I'm sure I shouldn't.' + +'I should like to get well!' said Alfred slowly, and sighing. 'But +then you've been a much better lad than I was.' + +'I don't know why you should say that,' said Paul, with his hand +under his chin, rather moodily. 'But if I thought I could be good +and go on well, I would not mind so much. I say, Alfred, when people +round go on being--like Tom Boldre, you know--do you think one can +always feel that about God being one's Father, and church home, and +all the rest?' + +'I can't say--I never tried,' said Alfred. 'But you know you can +always go to church--and then the Psalms and Lessons tell you those +things. Well, and you can go to the Holy Sacrament--I say, Paul, if +you take it the first time with me, you'll always remember me again +every time after.' + +'I must be very odd ever to forget you!' said Paul, not far from +crying. 'Ha!' he exclaimed, 'they are coming out of church!' + +'I want to say one thing more, while I've got it in my head,' said +Alfred. 'Mr. Cope said all this sickness was a cross to me, and I'd +got to take it up for our Saviour's sake. Well, and then mayn't +yours be being plagued and bullied, without any friends? I'm sure +something like it happened to our Lord; and He never said one word +against them. Isn't that the way you may be to follow Him?' + +Illness and thought had made such things fully plain to Alfred, and +his words sank deep into Paul's mind; but there was not time for any +answer, for Harold was heard unlocking the door, and striding up +three steps at a time, sending his voice before him. 'Well, old +chaps, have you quarrelled yet? Have you been jolly together? I +say, Mrs. Crabbe told Ellen that the pudding was put into the boiler +at eight o'clock last night; and my Lady and Miss Jane went in to +give it a stir! I'm to bring you home a slice, you know; and Paul +will know what a real pudding is like.' + +The two boys spent a happy quiet afternoon with Mrs. King; and +Charles Hayward brought all the singing boys down, that they might +hear the carols outside the window. Paul, much tired, was in his bed +by that time; but his last thought was that 'Good-will to Men' had +come home to him at last. + + + +CHAPTER XI--BETTER DAYS FOR PAUL + + + +Paul's reading was a great prize to Alfred, for he soon grew tired +himself; his sister could not spare time to read to him, and if she +did, she went mumbling on like a bee in a bottle. Her mother did +much the same, and Harold used to stumble and gabble, so that it was +horrible to hear him. Such reading as Paul's was a new light to them +all, and was a treat to Ellen as she worked as much as to Alfred; and +Paul, with hands as clean as Alfred's, was only too happy to get hold +of a book, and infinitely enjoyed the constant supply kept up by Miss +Selby, to make up for her not coming herself. + +Then came the making out the accounts, a matter dreaded by all the +family. Ellen and Alfred both used to do the sums; but as they never +made them the same, Mrs. King always went by some reckoning of her +own by pencil dots on her thumb-nail, which took an enormous time, +but never went wrong. So the slate and the books came up after tea, +one night, and Ellen set to work with her mother to pick out every +one's bill. There might be about eight customers who had Christmas +bills; but many an accountant in a London shop would think eight +hundred a less tough business than did the King family these eight; +especially as there was a debtor and creditor account with four, and +coals, butcher's meat, and shoes for man and horse, had to be set +against bread, tea, candles, and the like. + +One pound of tea, 3s. 6d., that was all very well; but an ounce and a +half of the same made Ellen groan, and look wildly at the corner over +Alfred's bed, as if in hopes she should there see how to set it down, +so as to work it. + +'Fourpence, all but--' said a voice from the arm-chair by the fire. + +Ellen did not take any particular heed, but announced the fact that +three shillings were thirty-six pence, and six was forty-two. Also +that sixteen ounces were one pound, and sixteen drams one ounce; but +there she got stuck, and began making figures and rubbing them out, +as if in hopes that would clear up her mind. Mrs. King pecked on for +ten minutes on her nail. + +'Well,' she said, 'Paul's right; it is fourpence.' + +'However did you do it?' asked Ellen. + +'As 16 to 1.5, so 42,' quoth Paul quickly. 'Three halves into 42; 21 +and 42 is 63; 63 by 16, gives 3 and fifteen-sixteenths. You can't +deduct a sixteenth of a penny, so call it fourpence.' + +Ellen and Alfred were as wise as to the working as they were before. + +Next question--Paul's answer came like the next line in the book-- +Mrs. King proved him right, and so on till she was quite tired of the +proofs, and began to trust him. Alfred asked how he could possibly +do such things, which seemed to him a perfect riddle. + +'I should have had my ears pretty nigh pulled off if I took five +minutes to work THAT in my head,' said Paul. 'But I've forgotten +things now; I could do it faster once.' + +'I'm sure you hadn't need,' said Mrs. King; 'it's enough to distract +one's senses to count so fast. All in your poor head too!' + +'And I've got to write them all out to-morrow,' said Ellen dismally; +'I must wait till dark, or I shan't set a stitch of work. I wish +people would pay ready money, and then one wouldn't have to set down +their bills. Here's Mr. Cope, bread--bread--bread, as long as my +arm!' + +'If you didn't mind, maybe I could save you the trouble, Miss Ellen,' +said Paul. + +'Did you ever make out a bill?' asked Mrs. King. + +'Never a real one; but every Thursday I used to do sham ones. Once I +did a jeweller's bill for twelve thousand pounds and odd! It is so +long since I touched a pen, that may be I can't write; but I should +like to try.' + +Ellen brought a pen, and the cover of a letter; and hobbling up to +the table, he took the pen, cleared it of a hair that was sticking in +it, made a scratch or two weakly and ineffectually, then wrote in a +neat clear hand, without running up or down, 'Friarswood, Christmas.' + +'A pretty hand as ever I saw!' said Mrs. King. 'Well, if you can +write like that, and can be trusted to make no mistakes, you might +write out our bills; and we'd be obliged to you most kindly.' + +And so Paul did, so neatly, that when the next evening Mr. Cope +walked in with the money, he said, looking at Harold, 'Ah! my ancient +Saxon, I must make my compliments to you: I did not think you could +write letters as well as you can carry them.' + +''Twas Paul did it, Sir,' said Harold. + +'Yes, Sir; 'twas Paul,' said Mrs. King. 'The lad is a wonderful +scholar: he told off all the sums as if they was in print; and to +hear him read--'tis like nothing I ever heard since poor Mrs. Selby, +Miss Jane's mother.' + +'I saw he had been very well instructed--in acquaintance with the +Bible, and the like.' + +'And, Sir, before I got to know him for a boy that would not give a +false account of himself, I used to wonder whether he could have run +away from some school, and have friends above the common. If you +observe, Sir, he speaks so remarkably well.' + +Mr. Cope had observed it. Paul spoke much better English than did +even the Kings; though Ellen was by way of being very particular, and +sometimes a little mincing. + +'You are quite sure it is not so?' he said, a little startled at Mrs. +King's surmise. + +'Quite sure now, Sir. I don't believe he would tell a falsehood on +no account; and besides, poor lad!' and she smiled as the tears came +into her eyes, 'he's so taken to me, he wouldn't keep nothing back +from me, no more than my own boys.' + +'I'm sure he ought not, Mrs. King,' said the Curate, 'such a mother +to him as you have been. I should like to examine him a little. +With so much education, he might do something better for himself than +field-labour.' + +'A very good thing it would be, Sir,' said Mrs. King, looking much +cheered; 'for I misdoubt me sometimes if he'll ever be strong enough +to gain his bread that way--at least, not to be a good workman. +There! he's not nigh so tall as Harold; and so slight and skinny as +he is, going about all bent and slouching, even before his illness! +Why, he says what made him stay so long in the Union was that he +looked so small and young, that none of the farmers at Upperscote +would take him from it; and so at last he had to go on the tramp.' + +Mr. Cope went up-stairs, and found Ellen, as usual, at her needle, +and Paul in the arm-chair close by Alfred, both busied in choosing +and cutting out pictures from Matilda's 'Illustrated News,' with +which Harold ornamented the wall of the stair-case and landing. Mr. +Cope sat down, and made them laugh with something droll about the +figures that were lying spread on Alfred. + +'So, Paul,' he said, 'I find Mrs. King has engaged you for her +accountant.' + +'I wish I could do anything to be of any use,' said Paul. + +'I've half a mind to ask you some questions in arithmetic,' said Mr. +Cope, with his merry eyes upon the boy, and his mouth looking grave; +'only I'm afraid you might puzzle me.' + +'I can't do as I used, Sir,' said Paul, rather nervously; 'I've +forgotten ever so much; and my head swims.' + +The slate was lying near; Mr. Cope pushed it towards him, and said, +'Well, will you mind letting me see how you can write from +dictation?' + +And taking up one of the papers, he read slowly several sentences +from a description of a great fire, with some tolerably long-winded +newspaper words in them. When he paused, and asked for the slate, +there it all stood, perfectly spelt, well written, and with all the +stops and capitals in the right places. + +'Famously done, Paul! Well, and do you know where this place was?' +naming the town. + +Paul turned his eyes about for a moment, and then gave the name of a +county. + +'That'll do, Paul. Which part of England?' + +'Midland.' + +And so on, Mr. Cope got him out of his depth by asking about the +rivers, and made him frown and look teased by a question about a +battle fought in that county. If he had ever known, he had +forgotten, and he was weak and easily confused; but Mr. Cope saw that +he had read some history and learnt some geography, and was not like +some of the village boys, who used to think Harold had been called +after Herod--a nice namesake, truly! + +'Who taught you all this, Paul?' he said. 'You must have had a +cleverer master than is common in Unions. Who was he?' + +'He was a Mr. Alcock, Sir. He was a clever man. They said in the +House that he had been a bit of a gentleman, a lawyer, or a clerk, or +something, but that he could never keep from the bottle.' + +'What! and so they keep him for a school-master?' + +'He was brought in, Sir; he'd got that mad fit that comes of drink, +Sir, and was fresh out of gaol for debt. And when he came to, he +said he'd keep the school for less than our master that was gone. He +couldn't do anything else, you see.' + +'And how did he teach you?' + +'He knocked us about,' said Paul, drawing his shoulders together with +an unpleasant recollection; 'he wasn't so bad to me, because I liked +getting my tasks, and when he was in a good humour, he'd say I was a +credit to him, and order me in to read to him in the evening.' + +'And when he was not?' + +'That was when he'd been out. They said he'd been at the gin-shop; +but he used to be downright savage,' said Paul. 'At last he never +thought it worth while to teach any lessons but mine, and I used to +hear the other classes; but the inspector came all on a sudden, and +found it out one day when he'd hit a little lad so that his nose was +bleeding, and so he was sent off.' + +'How long ago was this?' + +'Going on for a year,' said Paul. + +'Didn't the inspector want you to go to a training-school?' said +Alfred. + +'Yes; but the Guardians wouldn't hear of it.' + +'Did you wish it?' asked Mr. Cope. + +'I liked my liberty, Sir,' was the answer; and Paul looked down. + +'Well, and what you do think now you've tried your liberty?' + +Paul didn't make any answer, but finding that good-humoured face +still waiting, he said slowly, 'Why, Sir, it was well-nigh the worst +of all to find I was getting as stupid as the cows.' + +Mr. Cope laughed, but not so as to vex him; and added, 'So that was +the way you learnt to be a reader, Paul. Can you tell me what books +you used to read to this master?' + +Paul paused; and Alfred said, '"Uncle Tom's Cabin," Sir; he told us +the story of that.' + +'Yes,' said Paul; 'but that wasn't all: there was a book about +Paris, and all the people in the back lanes there; and a German +prince who came, and was kind.' + +'You must not tell them stories out of that book, Paul,' said Mr. +Cope quickly, for he knew it was a very bad one. + +'No, Sir,' said Paul; 'but most times it was books he called +philosophy, that I couldn't make anything of--no story, and all dull; +but he was very savage if I got to sleep over them, till I hated the +sight of them.' + +'I'm glad you did, my poor boy,' said Mr. Cope. 'But one thing more. +Tell me how, with such a man as this, you could have learnt about the +Bible and Catechism, as you have done.' + +'Oh,' said Paul, 'we had only the Bible and Testament to read in the +school, because they were the cheapest; and the chaplain asked us +about the Catechism every Sunday.' + +'What was the chaplain's name?' + +Paul was able, with some recollection, to answer; but he knew little +about the clergyman, who was much overworked, and seldom able to give +any time to the paupers. + +Three days after, Mr. Cope again came into the post-office. + +'Well, Mrs. King, I suppose you don't need to be told that our friend +Paul has spoken nothing but truth. The chaplain sends me his +baptismal registry, for which I asked. Just seventeen he must be--a +foundling, picked up at about three weeks old, January 25th, 1836. +They fancy he was left by some tramping musicians, but never were +able to trace them--at least, so the chaplain hears from some of the +people who remember it. Being so stunted, and looking younger than +he is, no farmer would take him from the House, and the school-master +made him useful, so he was kept on till the grand exposure that he +told us of.' + +'Ah! Sir,' said Mrs. King,' I'm afraid that master was a bad man. I +only wonder the poor lad learnt no more harm from him!' + +'One trembles to think of the danger,' said Mr. Cope; 'but you see +there's often a guard over those who don't seek the temptation, and +perhaps this poor fellow's utter ignorance of anything beyond the +Union walls helped him to let the mischief pass by his understanding, +better than if he had had any experience of the world.' + +'I doubt if he'll ever have that, Sir,' said Mrs. King, her sensible +face lighting up rather drolly; 'there's Harold always laughing at +him for being so innocent, and yet so clever at his book.' + +'So much the better for him,' said Mr. Cope. 'The Son of Sirach +never said a wiser word than that "the knowledge of wickedness is not +wisdom." Why, Mrs. King, what have I said? you look as if you had a +great mind to laugh at me.' + +'I beg your pardon, Sir,' said Mrs. King, much disconcerted at what +seemed to her as if it might have been disrespect, though that was +only Mr. Cope's droll way of putting it, 'I never meant--' + +'Well, but what were you thinking of?' + +'Why, Sir, I beg your pardon, but I was thinking it wouldn't have +been amiss if he had had sense enough to keep himself clean and +tidy.' + +'I agree with you,' said Mr. Cope, laughing, and seeing she used +'innocent' in a slightly different sense from what he did; 'but +perhaps Union cleanliness was not inviting, and he'd not had you to +bring him up to fresh cheeks like Harold's. Besides, I believe it +was half depression and want of heart to exert himself, when there +was no one to care for him; and he certainly had not been taught +either self-respect, or to think cleanliness next to godliness.' + +'Poor lad--no,' said Mrs. King; 'nor I don't think he'd do it again, +and I trust he'll never be so lost again.' + +'Lost, and found,' said Mr. Cope gravely. 'Another thing I was going +to say was, that this irreverent economy of the Guardians, in +allowing no lesson-books but the Bible, seems to have, after all, +been blest to him in his knowledge of it, like an antidote to the +evil the master poured in.' + +'Yes, Sir,' said Mrs. King, 'just so; only he says, that though he +liked it, because, poor lad, there was nothing else that seemed to +him to speak kind or soft, he never knew how much it was meant for +him, nor it didn't seem to touch him home till he came to you, Sir.' + +Mr. Cope half turned away. His bright eyes had something very like a +tear in them, for hardly anything could have been said to make the +young clergyman so happy, as to tell him that any work of his should +be blessed; but he went on talking quickly, to say that the chaplain +gave a still worse account of Alcock than Paul's had been, saying +that some gentlemen who had newly become Guardians at the time of the +inspector's visit, had taken up the matter, and had been perfectly +shocked at the discoveries they had made about the man to whom the +poor children had been entrusted. + +On his dismissal, some of the old set, who were all for cheapness, +had talked of letting young Blackthorn act as school-master; but as +he was so very young, and had been brought up by this wretched man, +the gentlemen would not hear of it; and as they could not afford to +accept the inspector's offer of recommending him to a government +school, he had been sent out in quest of employment, as being old +enough to provide for himself. Things had since, the chaplain said, +been put on a much better footing, and he himself had much more time +to attend to the inmates. As to Paul, he was glad to hear that he +was in good hands; he said he had always perceived him to be a very +clever boy, and knew no harm of him but that he was a favourite with +Alcock, which he owned had made him very glad to get him out of the +House, lest he should carry on the mischief. + +Mr. Cope and Mrs. King were both of one mind, that this was hard +measure. So it was. Man's measure always is either over hard or +over soft, because he cannot see all sides at once. Now they saw +Paul's side, his simplicity, and his suffering; the chaplain had only +seen the chances of his conveying the seeds of ungodly teaching to +the workhouse children; he could not tell that the pitch which Paul +had not touched by his own will, had not stuck by him--probably owing +to that very simplicity which had made him so helpless in common +life. + +Having learnt all this, Mr. Cope proposed to Paul to use the time of +his recovery in learning as much as he could, so as to be ready in +case any opportunity should offer for gaining his livelihood by his +head rather than by his hands. + +Paul's face glowed. He liked nothing better than to be at a book, +and with Mr. Cope to help him by bright encouragements and good- +natured explanations instead of tweaks of the ears and raps on the +knuckles, what could be pleasanter? So Mr. Cope lent him books, set +him questions, and gave him pen, ink, and copy-book, and he toiled +away with them till his senses grew dazed, and his back ached beyond +bearing; so that 'Mother,' as he called her now, caught him up, and +made him lie on his bed to rest, threatening to tell Mr. Cope not to +set him anything so hard; while Ellen watched in wonder at any one +being so clever, and was proud of whatever Mr. Cope said he did well; +and Harold looked on him as a more extraordinary creature than the +pie-bald horse in the show, who wore a hat and stood on his hind +legs, since he really was vexed when book and slate were taken out of +his hands. + +He would have over-tasked himself in his weakness much more, if it +had not been for his lovingness to Alfred. To please Alfred was +always his first thought; and even if a difficult sum were just on +the point of proving itself, he would leave off at the first moment +of seeing Alfred look as if he wanted to be read to, and would miss +all his calculations, to answer some question--who was going down the +village, or what that noise could be. + +Alfred tried to be considerate, and was sorry when he saw by a furrow +on Paul's brow that he was trying to win up again all that some +trifling saying had made him lose. But Alfred was not scholar enough +to perceive the teasing of such interruptions, and even had he been +aware of it, he was not in a state when he could lie quite still long +together without disturbing any one; he could amuse himself much less +than formerly, and often had most distressing restless fits, when one +or other of them had to give him their whole attention; and it was +all his most earnest efforts could do to keep from the old habit of +fretfulness and murmuring. And he grieved so much over the least +want of temper, and begged pardon so earnestly for the least +impatient word--even if there had been real provocation for it--that +it was a change indeed since the time when he thought grumbling and +complaint his privilege and relief. Nothing helped him more than +Paul's reading Psalms to him--the 121st was his favourite--or saying +over hymns to him in that very sweet voice so full of meaning. +Sometimes Ellen and Paul would sing together, as she sat at her work, +and it almost always soothed him to hear the Psalm tunes, that were +like an echo from the church, about which he had cared so little when +he had been able to go there in health and strength, but for which he +now had such a longing! He came to be so used to depend on their +singing the Evening Hymn to him, that one of the times when it was +most hard for him to be patient, was one cold evening, when Ellen was +so hoarse that she could not speak, and an unlucky draught in from +the shop door had so knit Paul up again, that he was lying in his +bed, much nearer screaming than singing. + +Most of all, however, was Alfred helped by Mr. Cope's visits, and the +looking forward to the promised Feast, with more earnestness as the +time drew on, and he felt his own weakness more longing for the +support and blessing of uniting his suffering with that of his Lord. +'In all our afflictions He was afflicted,' was a sound that came most +cheeringly to him, and seemed to give him greater strength and good- +will to bear his load of weakness. + +There was a book which young Mrs. Selby had given his mother, which +was often lying on his bed, and had marks in it at all the favourite +places. Some he liked to look at himself, some for Paul to read to +him. They were such sentences as these: + +'My son, I descended from Heaven for thy salvation; I took upon Me +thy miseries; not necessity, but charity, drawing Me thereto, that +thou thyself mightest learn patience, and bear temporal miseries +without grudging.' + +'For from the hour of My Birth, even until My Death on the Cross, I +was not without suffering and grief.' + +And then again: + +'Offer up thyself unto Me, and give thyself wholly for God, and thy +offering shall be acceptable.' + +'Behold, I offered up Myself wholly unto My Father for thee, and gave +My whole Body and Blood for thy food, that I might be wholly thine, +and that thou mightest continue Mine unto the end.' + +So he might think of all that he went through as capable of being +made a free offering, which God would accept for the sake of the One +Great Offering, 'consuming and burning away' (as the book said) 'all +his sins with the fire of Christ's love, and cleansing his conscience +from all offences.' It was what he now felt in the words, 'Thy Will +be done,' which he tried to say in full earnest; but he thought he +should be very happy when he should go along with the offering +ourselves, our souls, and bodies, to be a 'reasonable, holy, and +lively sacrifice.' + +Each of Mr. Cope's readings brought out or confirmed these refreshing +hopes; and Paul likewise dwelt on such thoughts. Hardship had been a +training to him, like sickness for Alfred; he knew what it was to be +weary and heavy laden, and to want rest, and was ready to draw closer +to the only Home and Father that he could claim. His gentle +unresisting spirit was one that so readily forgot ill-will, that +positively Harold cherished more dislike to the Shepherds than he +did; and there was no struggle to forgive, no lack of charity for all +men, so that hope and trust were free. + +These two boys were a great deal to the young deacon. Perhaps he +reckoned on his first ministration as a priest by Alfred's bedside, +as much or even more than did the lad, for to him the whole household +were as near and like-minded friends, though neither he nor they ever +departed from the fitting manners of their respective stations. He +was one who liked to share with others what was near his heart, and +he had shewn Alfred the Service for the Ordination of Priests, and +the Prayers for Grace that would be offered, and the holy vows that +he would take upon him, and the words with which those great Powers +would be conferred--those Powers that our Chief Shepherd left in +trust for the pastors who feed His flock. + +And once he had bent down and whispered to Alfred to pray that help +might be given to him to use those powers faithfully. + +So wore on the early spring; and the morning had come when he was to +set out for the cathedral town, when Harold rode up to the parsonage +door, and something in his looks as he passed the window made Mr. +Cope hasten to the door to meet him. + +'O Sir!' said Harold, bursting out crying as he began to speak, 'poor +Alfred is took so bad; and Mother told me to tell you, Sir--if he's +not better--he'll never live out the day!' + +Poor Harold, who had never seemed to heed his brother's illness, was +quite overwhelmed now. It had come upon him all at once. + +'What is it? Has the doctor been?' + +'No, Sir; I went in at six o'clock this morning to ask him to come +out, and he said he'd come--and sent him a blister--but Alf was worse +by the time I got back, Sir,--he can't breathe--and don't seem to +notice.' + +And without another word, nor waiting for comfort, Harold dug his +heels into Peggy, passed his elbow over his eyes, and cantered on +with the tears drying on his face in the brisk March wind. + +There was no finishing breakfast for the Curate; he thrust his +letters into his pocket, caught up his hat, and walked off with long +strides for the post-office. + +It shewed how different things were from usual, that Paul, who had +hardly yet been four times down-stairs, his thin pointed face all in +a flush, was the only person in the shop, trying with a very shaky +hand to cut out some cheese for a great stout farm maid-servant, who +evidently did not understand what was the matter, and stared doubly +when the clergyman put his strong hand so as to steady Paul's +trembling one, and gave his help to fold up the parcel. + +'How is he, Paul?' + +Paul was very near crying as he answered, 'Much worse, Sir. Mother +has been up all night with him. O Sir! he did so want to live till +you came home.' + +'May I go up?' asked Mr. Cope. + +Paul was sure that he might, and crept up after him. It was bad +enough, but not quite so bad as Harold, in his fright, had made Mr. +Cope believe. Poor boy! it had all come upon him now; and seeing his +brother unable to speak and much oppressed, he fancied he did not +know him, whereas Alfred was fully sensible, though too ill to do +more than lift his eyes, and put out his weak fingers as Mr. Cope +came into the room, where he was lying raised on his pillows, with +his mother and sister doing all they could for him. + +A terrible pain in the side had come on in the night, making every +breath painful, every cough agonizing, and his whole face and brow +were crimson with the effort of gasping. + +Paul looked a moment but could not bear it, and went, and sat down on +the top of the stairs; while Mr. Cope kindly held Alfred's hot hand, +and Mrs. King, in her low patient tone, told how the attack had +begun. + +She was in the midst, when Mr. Blunt's gig was seen at the gate. His +having thus hastened his coming was more than they had dared to hope; +and while Mrs. King felt grateful for the kindness, Ellen feared that +it shewed that he thought very badly of the case. + +Mr. Cope was much hurried, but he could not bear to go till he had +heard Mr. Blunt's opinion; so he went down to the kitchen, tried to +console Paul by talking kindly to him, wrote a note, and read his +letters. + +They were much comforted to hear that Mr. Blunt thought that there +was hope of subduing the present inflammatory pain; and though there +was much immediate danger, it was not hastening so very fast to the +end as they had at first supposed. Yet, in such a state as Alfred's, +a few hours might finish all. There was no saying. + +Already, when Mr. Cope went up again, the remedies had given some +relief; and though the breaths came short and hard, like so many +stabs, Alfred had put his head into an easier position, and his eyes +and lips looked more free to look a greeting. There was so much +wistful earnestness in his face, and it deeply grieved Mr. Cope to be +forced to leave him, and in too much haste even to be able to pray +with him. + +'Well, Alfred, dear fellow,' he said, his voice trembling, 'I am come +to wish you good-bye. I am comforted to find that Mr. Blunt thinks +there is good hope that you will be here--that we shall be together +when I come back. Yes, I know that is what is on your mind, and I do +reckon most earnestly on it; but if it should not be His Will--here, +Ellen, will you take care of this note? If he should be worse, will +you send this to Mr. Carter, at Ragglesford? and I know he will come +at once.' + +The dew stood on Alfred's eye-lashes, and his lips worked. He looked +up sadly to Mr. Cope, as if this did not answer his longings. + +Mr. Cope replied to the look--'Yes, dear boy, but if it cannot be, +still remember it is Communion. He can put us together. We all +drink into one Spirit. I shall be engaged in a like manner--I would +not--I could not go, Alfred, for pleasure--no, nor business--only for +this. You must think that I am gone to bring you home the Gift--the +greatest, best Gift--the one our Lord left with His disciples, to +bear them through their sorrows and pains--through the light +affliction that is but for a moment, but worketh an exceeding weight +of glory. And if I should not be in time,' he added, nearly sobbing +as he spoke, 'then--then, Alfred, the Gift, the blessing is yours all +the same. It is the Great High Priest to Whom you must look--perhaps +you may do so the more really if it should not be through--your +friend. If we are disappointed, we will make a sacrifice of our +disappointment. Good-bye, my boy; God bless you!' Bending close +down to his face, he whispered, 'Think of me. Pray for me--now-- +always.' Then, rising hastily, he shook the hands of the mother and +sister, ran down-stairs, and was gone. + + + +CHAPTER XII--REST AT LAST + + + +The east wind had been swept aside by gales from the warm south, and +the spring was bursting out everywhere; the sky looked softly blue, +instead of hard and chill; the sun made everything glisten: the +hedges were full of catkins; white buds were on the purple twigs of +the blackthorns; primroses were looking out on the sunny side of the +road; the larks were mounting up, singing as if they were wild with +delight; and the sunbeams were full of dancing gnats, as the Curate +of Friarswood walked, with quick eager steps, towards the bridge. + +His eyes were anxiously bent on the house, watching the white smoke +rising from the chimney; then he hastened on to gain the first sight +at the upper windows, feeling almost as he could have done had it +been a brother who lay there; so much was his heart set on the first +whom he had striven to help through the valley of the shadow of +death. The window was open, but the blind was not drawn; and almost +at the same moment the gate opened, some one looked out, and seeing +him, waved his hand and arm in joyful signal towards some one within, +and this gesture set Mr. Cope's heart at rest. + +Was it Harold? No, it was Paul Blackthorn, who stood leaning on the +wicket, as he held it open for the clergyman, at whom he looked up as +if expecting some change, and a little surprised to find the same +voice and manner. + +'Well, Paul, then he is not worse?' + +'No, Sir, thank you, he is better. The pain has left him, and he can +speak again,' said Paul, but not very cheerfully. + +'That is a great comfort! But who's that?' as a head, not Ellen's, +appeared for a moment at the window. + +'That's Miss King, Sir--Miss Matilda!' + +'Oh! Well, and how are the bones, Paul? Better, I hope, since I see +you are come out with the bees,' said Mr. Cope, laying his hand +kindly on his shoulder (a thing fit to touch now, since it was in a +fustian coat of poor Alfred's), and accommodating his swift strong +steps to the feeble halt with which Paul still moved. + +'Thank you, Sir, yes; I've been down here twice when the sun was +out,' he said, as if it were a grand undertaking; but then, with a +sudden smile, 'and poor Caesar knew me, Sir; he came right across the +road, and wagged his tail, and licked my hand.' + +'Good old Caesar! You were his best friend, Paul.--Well, Mrs. King, +this is a blessing!' + +Mrs. King looked sadly worn out with nursing, and her eyes were full +of tears. + +'Yes, Sir,' she said, 'indeed it is. My poor darling has been so +much afraid he was too much set on your coming home, and yet so +patient and quiet about it.' + +'Then you ventured to wait?' + +And Mr. Cope heard that the attack of inflammation had given way to +remedies, but that Alfred was so much weakened, that they could not +raise him again. He was sustained by as much nourishment as they +could give him: but the disease had made great progress, and Mr. +Blunt did not think that he could last many days. His eldest sister +had come for a fortnight from her place, and was a great comfort to +them all. 'And so is Paul,' said Mrs. King, looking for him kindly; +'I don't know what we should do without his help up-stairs and down. +And, Sir, yesterday,' she added, colouring a good deal--'I beg your +pardon, but I thought, maybe, you'd like to hear it--Alfred would +have nobody else up with him in morning church-time--and made him +read the most--of that Service, Sir.' + +Mr. Cope's eyes glistened, and he said something huskily of being +glad that Alfred could think of it. + +It further appeared that Alfred had wished very much to see Miss +Selby again, and that Mrs. King had sent the two sisters to the +Grange to talk it over with Mrs. Crabbe, and word had been sent by +Harold that morning that the young lady would come in the course of +the afternoon. + +Mr. Cope followed Mrs. King up-stairs; Alfred's face lighted up as +his sister Matilda made way for the clergyman. He was very white, +and his breath was oppressed; but his look had changed very much--it +had a strange, still sort of brightness and peace about it. He spoke +in very low tones, just above a whisper, and smiled as Mr. Cope took +his hand, and spoke to him. + +'Thank you, Sir. It is very nice,' he said. + +'I thank God that He has let you wait for me,' said Mr. Cope. + +'I am glad,' said Alfred. 'I did want to pray for it; but I thought, +perhaps, if it was not His Will, I would not--and then what you said. +And now He is making it all happy.' + +'And you do not grieve over your year of illness?' + +'I would not have been without it--no,' said Alfred, very quietly, +but with much meaning. + +'"It is good for me that I have been in trouble," is what you mean,' +said Mr. Cope. + +'It has made our Saviour seem--I mean--He is so good to me,' said +Alfred fervently. + +But talking made him cough, and that brought a line in the fair +forehead so full of peace. Mr. Cope would not say more to him, and +asked his mother whether the Feast, for which he had so much longed, +should be on the following day. She thought it best that it should +be so; and Alfred again said, 'Thank you, Sir,' with the serene +expression on his face. Mr. Cope read a Psalm and a prayer to him, +and thinking him equal to no more, went away, pausing, however, for a +little talk with Paul in the shop. + +Paul did not say so, but, poor fellow, he had been rather at a loss +since Matilda had come. In herself, she was a very good, humble, +sensible girl; but she wore a dark silk dress, and looked, moved, and +spoke much more like a lady than Ellen: Paul stood in great awe of +her, and her presence seemed all at once to set him aloof from the +others. + +He had been like one of themselves for the last three months, now he +felt that he was like a beggar among them; he did not like to call +Mrs. King mother, lest it should seem presuming; Ellen seemed to be +raised up the same step as her sister, and even Alfred was almost out +of his reach; Matilda read to him, and Paul's own good feeling shewed +him that he would be only in the way if he spent all his time in +Alfred's room as formerly; so he kept down-stairs in the morning, and +went to bed very early. Nobody was in the least unkind to him: but +he had just begun to grieve at being a burden so long, and to wonder +how much longer he should be in getting his health again. And then +it might be only to be cast about the world, and to lose his one +glimpse of home kindness. Poor boy! he still cried at the thought of +how happy Alfred was. + +He did all he could to be useful, but he could scarcely manage to +stoop down, could carry nothing heavy, and moved very slowly; and he +now and then made a dreadful muddle in the shop, when a customer was +not like Mrs. Hayward, who told him where everything was, and the +price of all she wanted, as well as Mrs. King could do herself. He +could sort the letters and see to the post-office very well; and for +all his blunders, he did so much by his good-will, that when Mrs. +King wanted to cheer him up, she declared that he saved her all the +expense of having in a woman from the village to help, and that he +did more about the house than Harold. + +This was true: for Harold did not like doing anything but manly +things, as he called them; whereas Paul did not care what it was, so +that it saved trouble to her or Ellen. + +Talking and listening to Harold was one use of Paul. Now that it had +come upon him, and he saw Alfred worse from day to day, the poor boy +was quite broken-hearted. Possibly, when at his work, or riding, he +managed to shake off the remembrance; but at home it always came +back, and he cried so much at the sight of Alfred, and at any attempt +of his brother to talk to him, that they could scarcely let him stay +ten minutes in the room. Then, when Paul had gone to bed on the +landing at seven o'clock, he would come and sit on his bed, and talk, +and cry, and sob about his brother, and his own carelessness of him, +often till his mother came out and ordered him down-stairs to his own +bed in the kitchen; and Paul turned his face into the pillow to weep +himself to sleep, loving Alfred very little less than did his +brother, but making less noise about it, and feeling very lonely when +he saw how all the family cared for each other. + +So Mr. Cope's kind manner came all the more pleasantly to him; and +after some talk on what they both most cared about, Mr. Cope said, +'Paul, Mr. Shaw of Berryton tells me he has a capital school-master, +but in rather weak health, and he wants to find a good intelligent +youth to teach under him, and have opportunities of improving +himself. Five pounds a year, and board and lodgings. What do you +think of it, Paul?' + +Paul's sallow face began growing red, and he polished the counter, on +which he was leaning; then, as Mr. Cope repeated, 'Eh, Paul?' he said +slowly, and in his almost rude way, 'They wouldn't have me if they +knew how I'd been brought up.' + +'Perhaps they would if they knew what you've come to in spite of +bringing up. And,' added Mr. Cope, 'they are not so much pressed for +time but that they can wait till you've quite forgotten your tumble +into the Ragglesford. We must fatten you--get rid of those spider- +fingers, and you and I must do a few more lessons together--and I +think Mrs. King has something towards your outfit; and by +Whitsuntide, I told Mr. Shaw that I thought I might send him what I +call a very fair sample of a good steady lad.' + +Paul did not half seem to take it in--perhaps he was too unhappy, or +it sounded like sending him away again; or, maybe, such a great step +in life was more than he could comprehend, after the outcast +condition to which he had been used: but Mr. Cope could not go on +talking to him, for the Grange carriage was stopping at the gate, and +Matilda and Ellen were both coming down-stairs to receive Miss Jane. +Poor little thing, she looked very pale and nervous; and as she shook +hands with the Curate, as he met her in the garden-path, she said +with a startled manner, 'Oh! Mr. Cope--were you there? Am I +interrupting--?' + +'Not at all,' he said. 'I had only called in as I came home, and had +just come down again.' + +'Is it--is it very dreadful?' murmured Jane, with a sort of gasp. +She was so entirely unused to scenes of sadness or pain, that it was +very strange and alarming to her, and it was more difficult than ever +to believe her no younger than Ellen. + +'Very far from dreadful or distressing,' said Mr. Cope kindly, for he +knew it was not her fault that she had been prevented from overcoming +such feelings, and that this was a great effort of kindness. 'It is +a very peaceful, soothing sight--he is very happy, and not in a +suffering state.' + +'Oh, will you tell Grandmamma?' said Jane, with her pretty look of +earnestness; 'she is so much afraid of its much for me, and she was +so kind in letting me come.' + +So Miss Selby went on to the two sisters, and Mr. Cope proceeded to +the carriage, where Lady Jane had put out her head, glad to be able +to ask him about the state of affairs. Having nothing but this +little grand-daughter left to her, the old lady watched over her with +almost over-tender care, and was in much alarm both lest the air of +the sick-room should be unwholesome, or the sight too sorrowful for +her; and though she was too kind to refuse the wish of the dying boy, +she had come herself, in order that 'the child,' as she called her, +might not stay longer than was good for her; and she was much +relieved to hear Mr. Cope's account of Alfred's calm state, and of +the freshness of the clean room, in testimony of which he pointed to +the open window. + +'Yes,' she said, 'I hope Mary King was wise enough; but I hardly knew +how it might be with such a number about the house--that boy and all. +He is not gone, is he?' + +'No, he is not nearly well enough yet, though he does what he can to +be useful to her. When he is recovered, I have a scheme for him.' + +So Mr. Cope mentioned Mr. Shaw's proposal, by which my Lady set more +store than did Paul as yet. Very kind-hearted she was, though she +did not fancy adopting chance-comers into her parish; and as long as +he was not saddled upon Mary King, as she said, she was very glad of +any good for him; so she told Mr. Cope to come to her for what he +might want to fit him out properly for the situation; and turning her +keen eyes on him as he stood near the cottage door, pronounced that, +after all, he was a nice, decent-looking lad enough, which certainly +her Ladyship would not have said before his illness. + +Miss Jane did not stay long. Indeed, Alfred could not talk to her, +and she did not know what to say to him; she could only stand by his +bed, with the tears upon her cheeks, making little murmuring sounds +in answer to Mrs. King, who said for her son what she thought he +wished to have said. Meanwhile, Jane was earnestly looking at him, +remarking with awe, that, changed as he was since she had last seen +him--so much more wasted away--the whole look of his face was altered +by the gentleness and peace that it had gained, so as to be like the +white figure of a saint. + +She could not bear it when Mrs. King told her Alfred wanted to thank +her for all her kindness in coming to see him. 'Oh, no,' she said, +'I was not kind at all;' and her tears would not be hindered. 'Only, +you know, I could not help it.' + +Alfred gave her a bright look. Any one could see what a pleasure it +was to him to be looking at her again, though he did not repent of +his share in the sacrifice for Paul's sake. No, if Paul had been +given up that Miss Jane might come to him, Alfred would not have had +the training that made all so sweet and calm with him now. He turned +his head to the little picture, and said, 'Thank you, Ma'am, for +that. That's been my friend.' + +'Yes, indeed it has, Miss Jane,' said his mother. 'There's nothing +you ever did for him that gave him the comfort that has been.' + +'And please, Ma'am,' said Alfred, 'will you tell my Lady--I give her +my duty--and ask her pardon for having behaved so bad--and Mrs. +Crabbe--and the rest?' + +'I will, Alfred; but every one has forgiven that nonsense long ago.' + +'It was very bad of me,' said Alfred, pausing for breath; 'and so it +was not to mind you--Miss Jane--when you said I was ill for a +warning.' + +'Did I?' said Jane. + +'Yes--in hay-time--I mind it--I didn't mind for long--but 'twas true. +He had patience with me.' + +The cough came on, and Jane knew she must go; her grandmother had +bidden her not to stay if it were so, and she just ventured to +squeeze Alfred's hand, and then went down-stairs, checking her tears, +to wish Matilda and Ellen good-bye; and as she passed by Paul, told +him not to uncover his still very short-haired head, and kindly hoped +he was better. + +Paul, in his dreary feelings, hardly thought of Mr. Cope's plan, +till, as he was getting the letters ready for Harold, he turned up +one in Mr. Cope's writing, addressed to the 'Rev. A. Shaw, Berryton, +Elbury.' + +'That's to settle for me, then,' he said; and Harold who was at tea, +asking, 'What's that?' he explained. + +'Well,' said Harold, 'every one to his taste! I wouldn't go to +school again, not for a hundred pounds; and as to KEEPING school!' +(Such a face as he made really caused Paul to smile.) 'Nor you don't +half like it, neither,' continued Harold. 'Come, you'd better stay +and get work here! I'd sooner be at the plough-tail all day, than +poke out my eyes over stuff like that,' pointing to Paul's slate, +covered with figures. 'Here, Nelly,' as she moved about, tidying the +room, 'do you hear? Mr. Cope's got an offer of a place for Paul-- +five pounds a year, and board and lodging, to be school-master's +whipper-in, or what d'ye call it?' + +'What do you say, Harold?' cried Ellen, putting her hands on the back +of a chair, quite interested. 'You going away, Paul?' + +'Mr. Cope says so--and I must get my living, you know,' said Paul. + +'But not yet; you are not well enough yet,' said the kind girl. 'And +where did you say--?' + +'To Berryton.' + +'Berryton--oh! that's just four miles out on the other side of +Elbury, where Susan Congleton went to live that was housemaid at the +Grange. She says it's such a nice place, and such beautiful organ +and singing at church! And what did you say you were to be, Paul?' + +'I'm to help the school-master.' + +'Gracious me!' cried Ellen. 'Why, such a scholar as you are, you'll +be quite a gentleman yet, Paul. Why, they school-masters get fifty +or sixty pounds salaries sometimes. I protest it's the best thing +I've heard this long time! Was it Mr. Cope's doing, or my Lady's?' + +'Mr. Cope's,' said Paul, beginning to think he had been rather less +grateful than he ought. + +'Ah! it is like him,' said Ellen, 'after all the pains he has taken +with you. And you'll not be so far off, Paul: you'll come to see us +in the holidays, you know.' + +'To be sure he will,' said Harold; 'or if he don't, I shall go and +fetch him.' + +'Of course he will,' said Ellen, with her hand on Paul's chair, and +speaking low and affectionately to console him, as she saw him so +downcast; 'don't you know how poor Alfy says he's come to be instead +of a son to Mother, and a brother to us? I must go up and tell Alf +and mother. They'll be so pleased.' + +Paul felt very differently about the plan now. All the house +congratulated him upon it, and Matilda evidently thought more of him +now that she found he was to have something to do. But such things +as these were out of sight beside that which was going on in the room +above. + +Alfred slept better that night, and woke so much revived, that they +thought him better: and Harold, greatly comforted about him, stood +tolerably quietly by his side, listening to one or two things that +Alfred had longed for months past to say to him. + +'Promise me, Harold dear, that you'll be a good son to Mother: +you'll be the only one now.' + +Harold made a bend of his head like a promise. + +'O Harold, be good to her!' went on Alfred earnestly; 'she's had so +much trouble! I do hope God will leave you to her--if you are steady +and good. Do, Harold! She's not like some, as don't care what their +lads get to. And don't take after me, and be idle! Be right-down +good, Harold, as Paul is; and when you come to be ill--oh! it won't +be so bad for you as it was for me!' + +'I do want to be good,' sighed Harold. 'If I'd only been confirmed; +but 'twas all along of them merries last summer!' + +'And I was such a plague to you--I drove you out,' said Alfred. + +'No, no, I was a brute to you! Oh! Alfy, Alfy, if I could only get +back the time!' + +He was getting to the sobs that hurt his brother; and his sister was +going to interfere; but Alfred said: + +'Never mind, Harold dear, we've been very happy together, and we'll +always love each other. You'll not forget Alf, and you'll be +Mother's good son to take care of her! Won't you?' + +So Harold gave that promise, and went away with his tears. Poor +fellow, now was his punishment for having slighted the Confirmation. +Like Esau, an exceeding bitter cry could not bring back what he had +lightly thrown away. Well was it for him that this great sorrow came +in time, and that it was not altogether his birthright that he had +parted with. He found he could not go out to his potato-planting and +forget all about it, as he would have liked to have done--something +would not let him; and there he was sitting crouched up and sorrowful +on the steps of the stairs, when Mr. Cope and all the rest were +gathered in Alfred's room, a church for the time. Matilda and Ellen +had set out the low table with the fair white cloth, and Mr. Cope +brought the small cups and paten, which were doubly precious to him +for having belonged to his father, and because the last time he had +seen them used had been for his father's last Communion. + +Now was the time to feel that a change had really passed over the +young pastor in the time of his absence. Before, he could only lead +Alfred in his prayers, and give him counsel, tell him to hope in his +repentance, and on what that hope was founded. Now that he had bent +beneath the hand of the Bishop, he had received, straight down from +the Twelve, the Power from on High. It was not Mr. Cope, but the +Lord Who had purchased that Pardon by His own most Precious Blood, +Who by him now declared to Alfred that the sins and errors of which +he had so long repented, were pardoned and taken away. The Voice of +Authority now assured him of what he had been only told to hope and +trust before. And to make the promise all the more close and +certain, here was the means of becoming a partaker of the Sacrifice-- +here was that Bread and that Cup which shew forth the Lord's Death +till He come. It was very great rest and peace, the hush that was +over the quiet room, with only Alfred's hurried breath to be heard +beside Mr. Cope's voice as he spoke the blessed words, and the low +responses of the little congregation. Paul was close beside Alfred-- +he would have him there between his mother and the wall--and the two +whose first Communion it was, were the last to whom Mr. Cope came. +To one it was to be the Food for the passage into the unseen world; +to the other might it be the first partaking of the Manna to support +him through the wilderness of this life. + +'From the highways and hedges,' here was one brought into the +foretaste of the Marriage Supper. Ah! there was one outside, who had +loved idle pleasure when the summons had been sent to him. Perhaps +the misery he was feeling now might be the means of sparing him from +missing other calls, and being shut out at last. + +It seemed to fulfil all that Alfred had wished. He lay still between +waking and sleeping for a long time afterwards, and then begged for +Paul to read to him the last chapters of the Book of Revelation. +Matilda wished to read them for him; but he said, 'Paul, please.' +Paul's voice was fuller and softer when it was low; his accent helped +the sense, and Alfred was more used to them than to his visitor +sister. Perhaps there was still another reason, for when Paul came +to the end, and was turning the leaves for one of Alfred's favourite +bits, he saw Alfred's eyes on him, as if he wanted to speak. It was +to say, 'Brothers quite now, Paul! Thank you. I think God must have +sent you to help me.' + +Alfred seemed better all the evening, and they went to bed in good +spirits; but at midnight, Mr. Cope, who was very deeply studying and +praying, the better to fit himself for his new office in the +ministry, was just going to shut his book, and go up to bed, when he +heard a tremulous ring at the bell. + +It was Harold, his face looking very white in the light from Mr. +Cope's candle. + +'Oh! please, Sir,' he said, 'Alfred is worse; and Mother said, if +your light wasn't out, you'd like to know.' + +'I am very grateful to her,' said Mr. Cope; and taking up his plaid, +he wrapped one end round the boy, and put his arm round him, as he +felt him quaking as Paul had done before, but not crying--too much +awe-struck for that. He said that his mother thought something had +broken in the lungs, and that he would be choked. Mr. Cope made the +more haste, that he might judge if the doctor would be of any use. + +Paul was sitting up in his bed--they had not let him get up--but his +eyes were wide open with distress, as he plainly heard the loud sob +that each breath had become. Mrs. King was holding Alfred up in her +arms; Matilda was trying to chafe his feet; Ellen was kneeling with +her face hidden. + +The light of sense and meaning was not gone from Alfred's eyes, +though the last struggle had come. He gave a look as though he were +glad to see Mr. Cope, and then gazed on his brother. Mrs. King +signed to Harold to come nearer, and whispered, 'Kiss him.' His +sisters had done so, and he had missed Harold. Then Mr. Cope prayed, +and Alfred's eyes at first owned the sounds; but soon they were +closed, and the long struggling breaths were all that shewed that the +spirit was still there. + +'He shall swallow up death in victory, and the Lord God shall wipe +away tears from all eyes.' + +One moment, and the blue eyes they knew so well were opened and +smiling on his mother, and then - + +It was over; and through affliction and pain, the young spirit had +gone to rest! + +The funeral day was a very sore one to Paul Blackthorn. He would +have given the world to be there, and have heard the beautiful words +of hope which received his friend to his resting-place, but he could +not get so far. He had tried to carry a message to a house not half +so far off as the church, but his knees seemed to give way under him, +and his legs ached so much that he could hardly get home. Somehow, a +black suit, just such as Harold's, had come home for him at the same +time; but this could not hinder him from feeling that he was but a +stranger, and one who had no real place in the home where he lived. +There was the house full of people, who would only make their remarks +on him--Miss Hardman (who was very critical of the coffin-plate), the +school-master, and some of the upper-servants of the house--and poor +Mrs. King and Matilda, who could not help being gratified at the +attention to their darling, were obliged to go down and be civil to +them; while Ellen, less used to restraint, was shut into her own room +crying; and Harold was standing on the stairs, very red, but a good +deal engaged with his long hat-band. Poor Paul! he had not even his +usual refuge--his own bed to lie upon and hide his face--for that had +been taken away to make room for the coffin to be carried down. + +There, they were going at last, when it had seemed as if the bustle +and confusion would never cease. There was Alfred leaving the door +where he had so often played, carried upon the shoulders of six lads +in white frocks, his old school-fellows and Paul's Confirmation +friends. How Paul envied them for doing him that last service! +There was his mother, always patient and composed, holding Harold's +arm--Harold, who must be her stay and help, but looking so slight, so +boyish, and so young, then the two girls, Ellen so overpowered with +crying that her sister had to lead her; Mrs. Crabbe with Betsey +Hardman, who held up a great white handkerchief, for other people's +visible grief always upset her, as she said; and besides, she felt it +a duty to cry at such a time; and the rest two and two, quite a +train, in their black suits: how unlike the dreary pauper funerals +Paul had watched away at Upperscote! That respectable look seemed to +make him further off and more desolate, like one cut off, whom no one +would follow, no one would weep for. Alfred, who had called him a +brother, was gone, and here he was alone! + +The others were taking their dear one once more to the church where +they had so often prayed that he might have a happy issue out of all +his afflictions. + +They were met by Mr. Cope, ending his loving intercourse with Alfred +by reading out the blessed promise of Resurrection--the assurance +that the body they were sowing in weakness would be raised in power; +so that the noble boy, whom they had seen fade away like a drooping +flower, would rise again blossoming forth in glory, after the Image +of the Incorruptible--that Image, thought Mr. Cope, as he read on, +which he faithfully strove to copy even through the sufferings due to +the corruptible. His voice often shook and faltered. He had never +before read that Service; and perhaps, except for those of his own +kin, it could never be a greater effort to him, going along with +Alfred as he had done, holding up the rod and staff that bore him +through the dark valley. And each trembling of his tone seemed to +answer something that the mother was feeling in her peaceful, +hopeful, thankful grief--yes, thankful that she could lay her once +high-spirited and thoughtless boy in his grave, with the same sure +and certain hope of a joyful Resurrection, as that ripe and earnest- +minded Christian his father, or his little innocent brother. It was +peace--awful peace, indeed, but soothing even to Ellen and Harold, +new as they were to grief. + +But to poor Paul at home, out of hearing of the words of hope, only +listening to the melancholy toll of the knell, and quite alone in the +disarranged forlorn house, there seemed nothing to take off the edge +of misery. He was not wanted to keep Alfred company now, nor to read +to him--no one needed him, no one cared for him. He wandered up to +where Alfred had lain so long, as if to look for the pale quiet face +that used to smile to him. There was nothing but the bed-frame and +mattress! He threw himself down on it and cried. He did not well +know why--perhaps the chief feeling was that Alfred was gone away to +rest and bliss, and he was left alone to be weary and without a +friend. + +At last the crying began to spend itself, and he turned and looked +up. There was Alfred's little picture of the Crucified still on the +wall, and the words under it, 'For us!' Paul's eye fell on it; and +somehow it brought to mind what Alfred had said to him on Christmas +Day. There was One Who had no home on earth; there was One Who had +made Himself an outcast and a wanderer, and Who had not where to lay +His Head. Was not He touched with a fellow-feeling for the lonely +boy? Would He not help him to bear his friendless lot as a share of +His own Cross? Nay, had He not raised him up friends already in his +utmost need? 'There is a Friend Who sticketh closer than a brother.' +He was the Friend that Paul need never lose, and in Whom he could +still meet his dear Alfred. These thoughts, not quite formed, but +something like them, came gently as balm to the poor boy, and though +they brought tears even thicker than the first burst of lonely +sorrow, they were as peaceful as those shed beside the grave. Though +Paul was absent in the body, this was a very different shutting out +from Harold's on last Tuesday. + +Paul must have cried himself to sleep, for he did not hear the +funeral-party return, and was first roused by Mrs. King coming up- +stairs. He had been so much used to think of this as Alfred's room, +that he had never recollected that it was hers; and now that she was +come up for a moment's breathing-time, he started up ashamed and +shocked at being so caught. + +But good motherly Mrs. King saw it all, and how he had been weeping +where her child had so long rested. Indeed, his face was swelled +with crying, and his voice all unsteady. + +'Poor lad! poor lad!' she said kindly, 'you were as fond of him as +any of them; and if we wanted anything else to make you one of us, +that would do it.' + +'O Mother,' said Paul, as she kindly put her hand on him, 'I could +not bear it--I was so lost--till I looked at THAT,' pointing to the +little print. + +'Ay,' said Mrs. King, as she wiped her quiet tears, 'that Cross was +Alfred's great comfort, and so it is to us all, my boy, whatever way +we have to carry it, till we come to where he is gone. No cross, no +crown, they say.' + +Perhaps it was not bad for any one that this forlorn day had given +Paul a fresh chill, which kept him in bed for nearly a week, so as +gently to break the change from her life of nursing to Mrs. King, and +make him very happy and peaceful in her care. + +And when at last on a warm sunny Sunday, Paul Blackthorn returned +thanks in church for his recovery--ay, and for a great deal besides-- +he had no reason to think that he was a stranger cared for by no one. + + + +CHAPTER XIII--SIX YEARS LATER + + + +It is a beautiful morning in Easter week. The sun is shining on the +gilded weathercock, which flashes every time it veers from south to +west; the snowdrops are getting quite out of date, and the buttercups +and primroses have it all their own way; the grass is making a start, +and getting quite long upon the graves in Friarswood churchyard. + +'Really, I should have sent in the Saxon monarch to tidy us up!' says +to himself the tall young Rector, as he stepped over the stile with +one long stride; 'but I suppose he is better engaged.' + +That tall young Rector is the Reverend Marcus Cope, six years older, +but young still. The poor old Rector, Mr. John Selby, died four +years ago abroad; and Lady Jane and Miss Selby's other guardians gave +the living to Mr. Cope, to the great joy of all the parish, except +the Shepherds, who have never forgiven him for their own usage of +their farming boy, nor for the sermon he neither wrote nor preached. + +The Saxon monarch means one Harold King, who looks after the Rectory +garden and horse, as well as the post-office and other small matters. + +The clerk is unlocking the church, and shaking out the surplice, and +Mr. Cope goes into the vestry, takes out two big books covered with +green parchment, and sees to the pen. It is a very good one, judging +by the writing of the last names in that book. They are Francis +Mowbray and Jane Arabella Selby. + +'Captain and Mrs. Mowbray will be a great blessing to the place, if +they go on as they have begun,' thinks Mr. Cope. 'How happy they are +making old Lady Jane, and how much more Mrs. Mowbray goes among the +cottages now that she does more as she pleases.' + +Then Mr. Cope goes to the porch and looks out. He sees two men +getting over the stile. One is a small slight person, in very good +black clothes, not at all as if they were meant to ape a gentleman, +and therefore thoroughly respectable. He has a thin face, rather +pointed as to the chin and nose, and the eyes dark and keen, so that +it would be over-sharp but that the mouth looks so gentle and +subdued, and the whole countenance is grave and thoughtful. You +could not feel half so sure that he is a certificated school-master, +as you can that his very brisk-looking companion is so. + +'Good morning, Mr. Brown.--Good morning, Paul,' said Mr. Cope. 'I +did not expect to see you arrive in this way.' + +The grave face glitters up in a merry look of amusement, while, with +a little colouring, he answers: + +'Why, Sir, Matilda said it was the proper thing, and so we supposed +she knew best.' + +There are not so many people who DO talk of Paul now. Most people +know him as Mr. Blackthorn, late school-master at Berryton, where the +boys liked him for his bright and gentle yet very firm ways; the +parents, for getting their children on, and helping them to be +steady; and the clergyman, for being so perfectly to be trusted, so +anxious to do right, and, while efficient and well informed, +perfectly humble and free from conceit. Now he has just got an +appointment to Hazleford school, in another diocese, with a salary of +fifty pounds a year; but, as Charles Hayward would tell you, 'he +hasn't got one bit of pride, no more than when he lived up in the +hay-loft.' + +There is not long to wait. There is another party getting over the +stile. There is a very fine tall youth first. As Betsey Hardman +tells her mother, 'she never saw such a one for being fine-growed and +stately to look at, since poor Charles King when he wore his best +wig.' A very nice open honest face, and as merry a pair of blue eyes +as any in the parish, does Harold wear, nearly enough to tell you +that, if in these six years it would be too much to say he has never +done ANYTHING to vex his mother, yet in the main his heart is in the +right place--he is a very good son, very tender to her, and steady +and right-minded. + +Whom is he helping over the stile? Oh, that is Mrs. Mowbray's pretty +little maid! a very good young thing, whom she has read with and +taught; and here, lady-like and delicate-looking as ever, is Matilda. +Bridemaids before the bride! that's quite wrong; but the bride has a +shy fit, and would not get over first, and Matilda and Harold are, +the one encouraging her, the other laughing at her; and Mr. +Blackthorn turns very red, and goes down the path to meet her, and +she takes his arm, and Harold takes Lucy, and Mr. Brown Miss King. + +Very nice that bride looks, with her hair so glossy under her straw +bonnet trimmed with white, her pretty white shawl, and quiet purple +silk dress, her face rather flushed, but quiet-looking, as if she +were growing more like her mother, with something of her sense and +calmness. + +How Mr. Blackthorn ever came to ask her that question, nobody can +guess, and Harold believes he does not know himself. However, it got +an answer two years ago, and Mrs. King gave her consent with all her +heart, though she knew Betsey Hardman would talk of picking a husband +up out of the gutter, and that my Lady would look severe, and say +something of silly girls. Yes--and though the rich widower bailiff +had said sundry civil things of Miss Ellen being well brought up and +notable--'For,' as Mrs. King wrote to Matilda, 'I had rather see +Ellen married to a good religious man than to any one, and I do not +know one I can be so sure of as Paul, nor one that is so like a son +to me; and if he has no friends belonging to him, that is better than +bad friends.' And Ellen herself, from looking on him as a mere boy, +as she had done at their first acquaintance, had come to thinking no +one ever had been so wise or so clever, far less so good, certainly +not so fond of her--so her answer was no great wonder. Then they +were to be prudent, and wait for some dependence; and so they did +till Mr. Shaw recommended Paul Blackthorn for Hazleford school, where +there is a beautiful new house for the master, so that he will have +no longer to live in lodgings, and be 'done for,' as the saying is. +Harold tells Ellen that he is afraid that without her he won't wash +above once in four months; but however that may be, she is convinced +that the new school-house will be lost on him, and that in spite of +all his fine arithmetic, his fifty pounds will never go so far for +one as for two; and so she did not turn a deaf ear to his entreaties +that she would not send him alone to Hazleford. + +They wanted very much to get 'Mother' to come and live with them, +give up the post-office, and let Harold live in Mr. Cope's house; but +Mother has a certain notion that Harold's stately looks and perfect +health might not last, if she were not always on the watch to put him +into dry clothes if he comes in damp, and such like 'little fidgets,' +as he calls them, which he would not attend to from any one but +Mother. So she will keep on the shop and the post-office, and try to +break in that uncouth girl of John Farden's to be a tidy little maid; +and Mr. and Mrs. Blackthorn will spend their holidays with her and +Harold. She may come to them yet in time, if, as Paul predicts, +Master Harold takes up with Lucy at the Grange--but there's time +enough to think of that; and even if he should, it would take many +years to make Lucy into such a Mrs. King as she who is now very busy +over the dinner at home, but thinking about a good deal besides the +dinner. + +There! Paul and Ellen have stood and knelt in an earnest reverent +spirit, making their vows to one another and before God, and His +blessing has been spoken upon them to keep them all their lives +through. + +It is with a good heart of hope that Mr. Cope speaks that blessing, +knowing that, as far as human eye can judge, here stands a man who +truly feareth the Lord, and beside him a woman with the ornament of a +meek and quiet spirit. + +They are leaving the church now, the bridegroom and his bride, arm in +arm, but they turn from the path to the wicket, and Harold will not +let even Matilda follow them. Just by the south wall of the church +there are three graves, one a very long one, one quite short, one of +middle length. The large one has a head-stone, with the names of +Charles King, aged forty years, and Charles King, aged seven years. +The middle-sized one has a stone cross, and below it 'Alfred King, +aged sixteen years,' and the words, 'In all their afflictions He was +afflicted.' + +It was Matilda who paid the cost of that stone, Miss Selby who drew +the pattern of it, and 'Mother' who chose the words, as what Alfred +himself loved best. At the bottom of Ellen's best work-box is a copy +of verses about that very cross. She thinks they ought to have been +carved out upon it, but Paul knows a great deal better, so all she +could do was to write them out on a sheet of note-paper with a wide +lace border, and keep them as her greatest treasure. Perhaps she +prizes them even more than the handsome watch that Mr. Shaw gave +Paul, though less, of course, than the great Bible and Prayer-book, +in which Mr. Cope has waited till this morning to write the names of +Paul and Ellen Blackthorn. + +So they stand beside the cross, and read the words, and they neither +of them can say anything, though the white sweet face is before the +eyes of their mind at the same time, and Ellen thinks she loves Paul +twice as much for having been one of his great comforts. + +'Good-bye, Alfred dear,' she whispers at last. + +'No, not good-bye,' says Paul. 'He is as much with us as ever, +wherever we are. Remember how we were together, Ellen. I have +always thought of him at every Holy Communion since, and have felt +that if till now, no one living--at least one at rest, were mine by +right.' + +Ellen pressed his arm. + +'Yes,' said Paul; 'the months I spent with Alfred were the great help +and blessing of my life. I don't believe any recollection has so +assisted to guard me in all the frets and temptations there are in a +life like mine.' + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Friarswood Post Office +by Charlotte M. Yonge + diff --git a/old/frwps10.zip b/old/frwps10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..59a1dd2 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/frwps10.zip |