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diff --git a/43281-8.txt b/43281-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3ea452a..0000000 --- a/43281-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,14448 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Cripps, the Carrier, by R. D. (Richard -Doddridge) Blackmore - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: Cripps, the Carrier - A Woodland Tale - - -Author: R. D. (Richard Doddridge) Blackmore - - - -Release Date: July 22, 2013 [eBook #43281] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CRIPPS, THE CARRIER*** - - -E-text prepared by sp1nd and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team -(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by -Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/crippscarrierwoo00blac - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - - - - -CRIPPS, THE CARRIER. - -A WOODLAND TALE. - -by - -RICHARD DODDRIDGE BLACKMORE, - -Author of "Lorna Doone," "Alice Lorraine," etc. - - - [Greek: ar estin hêmin logidion gnômên echon, - humn men autôn ouchi dexiôteron, - kômpsdias de photikês sophôteron;] - - AR. VESP. 64. - - -New Edition - - - - - - - -London: -Sampson Low, Marston & Company, Limited, -St. Dunstan's House, -Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, E.C. -1892. - -[All rights reserved.] - - - * * * * * * - - BY THE SAME AUTHOR. - - - LORNA DOONE. - - (_Illustrated, édition de luxe, parchment, 35s.; plainer - bindings, 31s. 6d., 21s., and 7s. 6d._) - - ALICE LORRAINE. - CLARA VAUGHAN. - CRADOCK NOWELL, - CRIPPS, THE CARRIER. - MARY ANERLEY. - EREMA: or, My Father's Sin. - CHRISTOWELL: A Dartmoor Tale. - TOMMY UPMORE. - SPRINGHAVEN. - KIT AND KITTY. - - LONDON: - SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY, LIMITED. - FETTER LANE. FLEET STREET, E.C. - - * * * * * * - - -CONTENTS. - - -CHAPTER PAGE - - I. THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY 1 - II. THE SWING OF THE PICKAXE 7 - III. OAKLEAF POTATOES 14 - IV. CRIPPS IN A QUANDARY 21 - V. A RIDE THROUGH THE SNOW 24 - VI. THE PUBLIC OF THE "PUBLIC" 30 - VII. THE BEST FOOT FOREMOST 37 - VIII. BALDERDASH 43 - IX. CRIPPS IN AFFLICTION 50 - X. ALL DEAD AGAINST HIM 55 - XI. KNOCKER VERSUS BELL-PULL 60 - XII. MR. JOHN SMITH 68 - XIII. MR. SMITH IS ACTIVE 74 - XIV. SO IS MR. SHARP 79 - XV. A SPOTTED DOG 85 - XVI. A GRAND SMOCK-FROCK 91 - XVII. INSTALLED AT BRASENOSE 98 - XVIII. A FLASH OF LIGHT 104 - XIX. A STORMY NIGHT 110 - XX. CRIPPS DRAWS THE CORK 120 - XXI. CINNAMINTA 127 - XXII. A DELICATE SUBJECT 132 - XXIII. QUITE ANOTHER PAIR OF SOCKS! 141 - XXIV. SUO SIBI BACULO 149 - XXV. MISS PATCH 157 - XXVI. RUTS 164 - XXVII. RATS 173 - XXVIII. BOOTS ON 180 - XXIX. A SPIDER'S DINNER-PARTY 190 - XXX. THE FIRE-BELL 198 - XXXI. THROW PHYSIC TO THE DOGS 206 - XXXII. CRIPPS ON CELIBACY 214 - XXXIII. KIT 223 - XXXIV. A WOOLHOPIAN 230 - XXXV. NIGHTINGALES 237 - XXXVI. MAY MORN 242 - XXXVII. MAY-DAY 248 -XXXVIII. THE DIGNITY OF THE FAMILY 259 - XXXIX. A TOMBSTONE 267 - XL. LET ME OUT 276 - XLI. REASON AND UNREASON 284 - XLII. MEETING THE COACH 291 - XLIII. THE MOTIVE 300 - XLIV. THE MANNER 307 - XLV. THE POSITION 313 - XLVI. IN THE MESHES 324 - XLVII. COMBINED WISDOM 335 - XLVIII. MASCULINE ERROR 342 - XLIX. PROMETHEUS VINCTUS 351 - L. FEMININE ERROR 361 - LI. UNFILIAL 367 - LII. UNPATERNAL 375 - LIII. "THIS WILL DO" 386 - LIV. CRIPPS BRINGS HOME THE CROWN 391 - LV. SMITH TO THE RESCUE 402 - LVI. FATAL ACCIDENT TO THE CARRIER 410 - - - - -CRIPPS, THE CARRIER. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY. - - -The little village of Beckley lies, or rather lay many years ago, in -the quiet embrace of old Stow Wood, well known to every Oxford man who -loves the horn or fusil. This wood or forest (now broken up into many -straggling copses) spread in the olden time across the main breadth of -the highland to the north of Headington, between the valley of the -Cherwell and the bogs of Otmoor. Beckley itself, though once -approached by the Roman road from Alchester, must for many a century -have nursed its rural quietude, withdrawn as it was from the -stage-waggon track from High Wycombe to Chipping Norton, through -Wheatley, Islip, and Bletchingdon, and lying in a tangle of narrow -lanes leading only to one another. So Beckley took that cheerful view -of life which enabled the fox to disdain the blandishments of the -vintage, and prided itself on its happy seclusion and untutored -honesty. - -But as all sons of Adam must have something or other to say to the -rest, and especially to his daughters, this little village carried on -some commerce with the outer world; and did it through a carrier. - -The name of this excellent man was Cripps; and the Carrier's mantle, -or woolsey coat, had descended on this particular Cripps from many -generations. All the Cripps family had a habit of adding largely to -their number in every generation. In this they resembled most other -families which have to fight the world, and therefore recruit their -forces zealously; but in one great point they were very distinct--they -agreed among one another. And ever since roads were made, or rather -lanes began trying to make themselves, one great tradition had -confirmed the dynasty of Crippses. - -This was that the eldest son should take the carrying business; the -second son (upon first avoidance) should have the baker's shop in -Oxford over against old Balliol College; the third should have the -queer old swine-farm in the heart of Stow Forest; the fourth should be -the butcher of Beckley, and the fifth its shoemaker. If ever it -pleased the Lord to proceed with the masculine fork of the family (as -had happened several times), the sixth boy and the rest were expected -to start on their travels, when big enough. As for the girls, the -Carrier, being the head of the family, and holding the house and the -stable and cart, was bound to take the maids, one by one, to and fro -under his tilt twice a week, till the public fell in love with them. - -Now, so many things come cross and across in the countless ins and -outs of life, that even the laws of the Crippses failed sometimes, in -some jot or tittle. Still there they stuck, and strong cause was -needed ere they could be departed from. Of course the side-shoots of -the family (shoemakers' sons, and so on) were not to be bound by this -great code, however ambitious to be so. To deal with such rovers is -not our duty. Our privilege is to trace the strict succession of the -Crippses, the deeds of the Carrier now on the throne and his second -best brother, the baker, with a little side-peep at the man on the -farm, and a shy desire to be very delicate to the last unmarried -"female." - -The present head of the family, Zacchary Cripps, the Beckley carrier, -under the laws of time (which are even stricter than the Cripps' -code), was crossing the ridge of manhood towards the western side of -forty, without providing the due successor to the ancestral -driving-board. Public opinion was already beginning to exclaim at him; -and the man who kept the chandler's shop, with a large small family to -maintain, was threatening to make the most of this, and set up his own -eldest son on the road; though "dot and carry one" was all he knew -about the business. Zacchary was not a likely man to be at all upset -by this; but rather one of a tarrying order, as his name might -indicate. - -Truly intelligent families living round about the city of Oxford had, -and even to this day have, a habit of naming their male babies after -the books of the Bible, in their just canonical sequence; while -infants of the better sex are baptized into the Apocrypha, or even the -Epistles. So that Zacchary should have been "Genesis," only his father -had suffered such pangs of mind at being cut down, by the -ever-strengthening curtness of British diction, into "Jenny Cripps," -that he laid his thumb to the New Testament when his first man-child -was born to him, and finding a father in like case, quite relieved of -responsibility, took it for a good sign, and applied his name -triumphantly. - -But though the eldest born was thus transferred into the New -Testament, the second son reverted to the proper dispensation; and the -one who went into the baker's shop was Exodus, as he ought to be. The -children of the former Exodus were turned out testamentarily, save -those who were needed to carry the bread out till their cousin's boys -should be big enough. - -All of these doings were right enough, and everybody approved of them. -Leviticus Cripps was the lord of the swine, and Numbers bore the -cleaver, while Deuteronomy stuck to his last, when the public-house -could spare him. There was only one more brother of the dominant -generation, whose name was "Pentachook," for thus they pronounced the -collective eponym, and he had been compendiously kicked abroad, to -seek his own fortune, right early. - -But as for the daughters (who took their names from the best women of -the Apocrypha, and sat up successively under the tilt until they were -disposed of), for the moment it is enough to say that all except one -were now forth and settled. Some married farmers, some married -tradesmen, one took a miller's eldest son, one had a gentleman more or -less, but all with expectations. Only the youngest was still in the -tilt, a very pretty girl called Esther. - -All Beckley declared that Esther's heart had been touched by a College -lad, who came some five years since to lodge with Zacchary for the -long vacation, and was waited on by this young girl, supposed to be -then unripe for dreaming of the tender sentiment. That a girl of only -fifteen summers should allow her thoughts to stray, contrary to all -common sense and her duty to her betters, for no other reason (to -anybody's knowledge) than that a young man ate and drank with less -noise than the Crippses, and went on about the moonlight and the -stars, and the rubbishy things in the hedges--that a child like that -should know no better than to mix what a gentleman said with his inner -meaning--put it right or left, it showed that something was amiss with -her. However, the women would say no more until it was pulled out of -them. To mix or meddle with the Crippses was like putting one's -fingers into a steel trap. - -With female opinion in this condition, and eager to catch at anything, -Mrs. Exodus Cripps, in Oxford, was confined rather suddenly. She had -kneaded a batch of two sacks of flour, to put it to rise for the -morning, and her husband (who should not have let her do it) was -smoking a pipe, and exciting her. Nevertheless, it would not have -harmed her (as both the doctor and the midwife said) if only she had -kept herself from arguing while about it. But, somehow or other, her -husband said a thing she could not agree with, and the strength of her -reason went the other way, and it served him right that he had to rush -off in his slippers to the night-bell. - -On the next day, although things were quite brought round, and the -world was the richer by the addition of another rational animal, Mr. -Exodus sent up the crumpet-boy all the way from Broad Street in Oxford -to Beckley, to beg and implore Miss Esther Cripps to come down and -attend to the caudle. And the crumpet-boy, being short of breath, -became so full of power that the Carrier scarcely knew what to do in -the teeth of so urgent a message. For he had made quite a pet of his -youngest sister, and the twenty years of age betwixt them stopped the -gap of rivalry. It was getting quite late in the afternoon when the -crumpet-boy knocked at the Carrier's door, because he had met upon -Magdalen Bridge a boy who owed him twopence; and eager as he was to -fulfil his duty, a sense of justice to himself compelled him to do his -best to get it. His knowledge of the world was increased by the -failure of this Utopian vision, for the other boy offered to toss him -"double or quits," and having no specie, borrowed poor Crumpy's last -penny to do it; then, being defeated in the issue, he cast the young -baker's cap over the bridge, and made off at fine speed with his coin -of the realm. What other thing could Crumpy do than attempt to outvie -his activity? In a word, he chased him as far as Carfax, with -well-winged feet and sad labour of lungs, but Mercury laughed at -Astræa, and Crumpy had a very distant view of fivepence. Recording a -highly vindictive vow, he scratched his bare head, and set forth -again, being further from Beckley than at his first start. - -It certainly was an unlucky thing that the day of the week should be -Tuesday--Tuesday, the 19th of December, 1837. For Zacchary always had -to make his rounds on a Wednesday and a Saturday, and if he were to -drive his poor old Dobbin into Oxford on a Tuesday evening, how could -he get through his business to-morrow? For Dobbin insisted on a day in -stable whenever he had been in Oxford. He was full of the air of the -laziest place, and perhaps the most delightful, in the world. He -despised all the horses of low agriculture after that inspiration, and -he sighed out sweet grunts at the colour of his straw, instead of -getting up the next morning. - -Zacchary Cripps was a thoughtful man, as well as a very kind-hearted -one. In the crown of his hat he always carried a monthly calendar -gummed on cardboard, and opposite almost every day he had dots, or -round O's, or crosses. Each of these to his very steady mind meant -something not to be neglected; and being (as time went) a pretty fair -scholar--ere School Boards destroyed true scholarship--with the help -of his horse he could make out nearly every place he had to call at. -So now he looked at the crumpet-boy, to receive and absorb his -excitement, and then he turned to young Esther, and let her speak -first, as she always liked to do. - -"Oh, please to go back quite as fast as you can," said Esther to the -Crumpy, "and say that I shall be there before you; or, at any rate, as -soon as you are. And, Crumpy, there ought to be something for you. -Dear Zak, have you got twopence?" - -"Not I," said the Carrier, "and if I had, it would do him a deal more -harm than good. Run away down the hill, my lad, and you come to me at -the Golden Cross, perhaps as soon as Saturday, and I'll look in my bag -for a halfpenny. Run away, boy; run away, or the bogies will be after -you." - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -THE SWING OF THE PICKAXE. - - -The baker's boy felt that his luck was askew upon this day of his -existence, for Carrier Cripps was vexed so much at this sudden demand -for his sister that he never even thought of asking the boy to have a -glass of home-brewed ale. - -"Zak, what made you send the boy away?" Esther asked, when she came -downstairs, with her bonnet and short cloak on. "Of course, I am very -foolish; but he would have been some little company." - -"There, now, I never thought of it! I am doiled, a do believe, -sometimes. Tramp with you to the Bar mysell, I wull. Sarve me right -for a-doin' of it." - -"Indeed, then, you won't," she answered firmly. "There's a hard day's -work for you, Zak, to-morrow, with all the Christmas parcels, and your -touch of rheumatics so bad last week." - -"Why, bless the cheeld, I be as hearty as ever!" - -"Of course you are, Zak; of course you are, and think nought of a sack -of potatoes. But if you declare to come with me one step, backward is -the only step I take." - -"Well, well," said the Carrier, glad on the whole to escape a long -walk and keep conscience clear; "when you say a thing, Etty, what good -is it? Round these here parts none would harm 'ee. And none of they -furriners be about just now." - -"Good-night, Zak, good-night, dear," cried Esther, to shorten -departure, for Cripps was a man of a slow turn of mind, and might go -on for an hour or two; "I shall sleep there to-night, of course, and -meet you at the Golden Cross to-morrow. When had I best be there?" - -"Well, you know better than I do. It might be one o'clock, or it might -be two, or it might be half-past three a'most. All you have to do is -this--to leave word at the bar with Sally Brown." - -"I shall do nothing of the sort," she answered; "I don't like bars, -and I don't like Miss Brown. I shall look in the yard for the cart, -brother." - -"You'll do pretty much as you like. That much a may be cock-sure of." -But before he could finish his exposition of his sister's character, -she was out of sight; and he dropped his grumble, and doubted his mind -about letting her go. Nor that any one at all of the neighbourhood -would hurt her; but that there had been much talk about a camp of -dark-skinned people in Cowley Marsh, not long ago. Therefore he laid -his palm flat from his eyebrows, to follow the distance further; and -seeing no more than the hedges of the lane (now growing in the cold -wind naked) and the track of the lane (from wet mud slaking into -light-coloured crustiness), without any figures, or sound, or shadow, -or sense of life moving anywhere--he made for the best side of his -cottage-door, and brightened up the firelight. - -The weather had been for some few weeks in a good constitutional -English state; that is to say, it had no settled tendency towards -anything. Or at any rate, so it seemed to people who took little heed -of it. There had been a little rain, and then a little snow, and a -touch of frost, and then a sample of fog, and so on: trying all -varieties, to suit the British public. True Britons, however, had -grumbled duly at each successive overture; so that the winter was now -resolving henceforth only to please itself. And this determined will -was in the wind, the air, and the earth itself, just when night began -to fall on this dark day of December. - -As Esther turned the corner from the Beckley lane into the road, the -broad coach road to Oxford, she met a wind that knew its mind coming -over the crest of Shotover, a stern east wind that whistled sadly over -the brown and barren fields, and bitterly piped in the roadway. To the -chill of this blast the sere oak-leaves shivered in the dusk and -rattled; the grey ash saplings bent their naked length to get away -from it; and the surly stubs of the hedge went to and fro to one -another. The slimy dips of the path began to rib themselves, like the -fronds of fern, and to shrink into wrinkles and sinewy knobs; while -the broader puddles, though skirred by the breeze, found the network -of ice veiling over them. This, as it crusted, began to be capable of -a consistent quivering, with a frail infinitude of spikelets, crossing -and yet carrying into one another. And the cold work (marred every now -and then by the hurry of the wind that urged it) in the main was going -on so fast, that the face of the water ceased to glisten, and instead -of ruffling lifted, and instead of waving wavered. So that, as the -surface trembled, any level eye might see little splinters (held as -are the ribs and harl of feathers) spreading, and rising like stems of -lace, and then with a smooth, crisp jostle sinking, as the wind flew -over them, into the quavering consistence of a coverlet of ice. - -Esther Cripps took little heed of these things, or of any other in the -matter of weather, except to say to herself now and then how bitter -cold the wind was, and that she feared it would turn to snow, and how -she longed to be sitting with a cup of "Aunt Exie's" caudle in the -snug room next to the bakehouse, or how glad she would be to get only -as far as the first house of St. Clement's, to see the lamps and the -lights in the shops, and be quit of this dreary loneliness. For now it -must be three market days since fearful rumours began to stir in -several neighbouring villages, which made even strong men discontent -with solitude towards nightfall; and as for the women--just now poor -Esther would rather not think of what they declared. It was all very -well to pretend to doubt it while hanging the clothes out, or turning -the mangle; but as for laughing out here in the dark, and a mile away -from the nearest house--Good Lord! How that white owl frightened her! - -Being a sensible and brave girl, she forced her mind as well as she -could into another channel, and lifted the cover of the basket in -which she had some nice things for "Aunt Exie," and then she set off -for a bold little run, until she was out of breath, and trembling at -the sound of her own light feet. For though all the Crippses were -known to be of a firm and resolute fibre, who could expect a young -maid like this to tramp on like a Roman sentinel? - -And a lucky thing for her it was that she tried nothing of the sort, -but glided along with her heart in her mouth, and her short skirt -tucked up round her. Lucky also for her that the ground (which she so -little heeded, and so wanted to get over) was in that early stage of -freezing, or of drying to forestall frost, in which it deadens sound -as much as the later stage enlivens it, otherwise it is doubtful -whether she would have seen the Christmas-dressing of the shops in -Oxford. - -For, a little further on, she came, without so much as a cow in the -road or a sheep in a field for company, to a dark narrow place, where -the way hung over the verge of a stony hollow, an ancient pit which -had once been worked as part of the quarries of Headington. This had -long been of bad repute as a haunted and ill-omened place; and even -the Carrier himself, strong and resolute as he was, felt no shame in -whispering when he passed by in the moonlight. And the name of the -place was the "Gipsy's Grave." Therefore, as Esther Cripps approached -it, she was half inclined to wait and hide herself in a bush or gap -until a cart or waggon should come down the hill behind her, or an -honest dairyman whistling softly to reassure his shadow, or even a -woman no braver than herself. - -But neither any cart came near, nor any other kind of company, only -the violence of the wind, and the keen increase of the frost-bite. So -that the girl made up her mind to put the best foot foremost, and run -through her terrors at such a pace that none of them could lay hold of -her. - -Through yards of darkness she skimmed the ground, in haste only to be -rid of it, without looking forward, or over her shoulders, or -anywhere, when she could help it. And now she was ready to laugh at -herself and her stupid fears, as she caught through the trees a -glimpse of the lights of Oxford, down in the low land, scarcely more -than a mile and a half away from her. In the joy of relief she was -ready to jump and pant without fear of the echoes, when suddenly -something caught her ears. - -This was not a thing at first to be at all afraid of, but only just -enough to rouse a little curiosity. It seemed to be nothing more nor -less than the steady stroke of a pickaxe. The sound came from the -further corner of the deserted quarry, where a crest of soft and -shingly rock overhung a briary thicket. Any person working there would -be quite out of sight from the road, by reason of the bend of the -hollow. - -The blow of the tool came dull and heavy on the dark and frosty wind; -and Esther almost made up her mind to run on, and take no heed of it. -And so she would have done, no doubt, if she had not been a Cripps -girl. But in this family firm and settled opinions had been handed -down concerning the rights of property--the rights that overcome all -wrongs, and outlive death. The brother Leviticus of Stow Wood had sown -a piece of waste at the corner of the clevice with winter carrots for -his herd of swine. The land being none of his thus far, his right so -to treat it was not established, and therefore likely to be attacked -by any rapacious encroacher. Esther felt all such things keenly, and -resolved to find out what was going on. - -To this intent she gathered in the skirt of her frock and the fulling -of her cloak, and fending the twigs from her eyes and bonnet, quietly -slipped through a gap in the hedge. For she knew that a steep track, -trodden by children in the blackberry season, led from this gap to the -deep and tangled bottom of the quarry. With care and fear she went -softly down, and followed the curve of the hollow. - -The heavy sound of the pickaxe ceased, as she came near and nearer, -and the muttering of rough voices made her shrink into a nook and -listen. - -"Tell 'ee, I did see zummat moving," said a man, whom she could dimly -make out on the beetling ridge above her, by the light of the clearing -eastern sky; "a zummat moving down yonner, I tell 'ee." - -"No patience, I han't no patience with 'ee," answered a taller man -coming forward, and speaking with a guttural twang, as if the roof of -his mouth were imperfect. "Skeary Jem is your name and nature. Give me -the pick if thee beest aveared. Is this job to be finished to-night, -or not?" - -The answer was only a growl or an oath, and the swing of the tool -began again, while Esther's fright grew hot, and thumped in her heart, -and made her throat swell. It was all she could do to keep quiet -breath, and prevent herself from screaming; for something told her -that she was watching a darker crime than theft of roots or robbery of -a sheepfold. - -In a short or a long time--she knew not which--as she still lay hid -and dared not show her face above the gorse-tuft, a sound of sliding -and falling shale heavily shook her refuge. She drew herself closer, -and prayed to the Lord, and clasped her hands before her eyes, and -cowered, expecting to be killed at least. And then she peeped forth, -to know what it was about. She never had harmed any mortal body; why -should she be frightened so? - -In the catch of the breath which comes when sudden courage makes gulp -at uncertainty, she lifted herself by a stiff old root, to know the -very worst of it. Better almost to be killed and be done with, than -bear the heart-pang of this terrible fear. And there she saw a thing -that struck her so aback with amazement, that every timid sense was -mute. - -Whether the sky began to shed a hovering light, or the girl's own eyes -spread and bred a power of vision from their nervous dilation--at any -rate, she saw in the darkness what she had not seen till now. It was -the body of a young woman (such a body as herself might be), lying, -only with white things round it, in the black corner, with gravel and -earth and pieces of rock rolling down on it. There was nothing to -frighten a sensible person now that the worst was known perhaps. -Everybody must be buried at some time. Why should she be frightened -so? - -However, Esther Cripps fell faint, and lay in that state long enough -for tons of burying rock to fall, and secret buryers to depart. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -OAKLEAF POTATOES. - - -"Of all slow people in this slow place, I am quite certain that there -is none so slow as Cripps, the Carrier." - -This "hot spache," as the patient Zacchary would perhaps have called -it, passed the lips of no less a person than old Squire Oglander. He, -on the 20th day of December (the day after that we began with), was -hurrying up and down the long straight walk of his kitchen garden, and -running every now and then to a post of vantage, from which he could -look over the top of his beloved holly hedge, and make out some of the -zigzags of the narrow lane from Beckley. A bitter black frost had now -set in, and the Squire knew that if he wanted anything more fetched -out of his ground, or anything new put into it, it might be weeks -before he got another chance of doing it. So he made a good bustle, -and stamped, and ran, and did all he could to arouse his men, who knew -him too well to concern themselves about any of his menaces. - -"I tell you we are all caught napping, Thomas. I tell you we ought to -be ashamed of ourselves. The frost is an inch in the ground already. -Artichokes, carrots, parsnips, beetroot, even horse-radish for our -Christmas beef--and upon my soul, a row of potatoes never even dug -yet! Unless I am after you at every corner--well, I am blessed if I -don't see our keeping onions!" - -"Now, measter, 'ee no call to be so grum! None of they things'll be a -haporth the worse. The frost'll ony swaten 'em." - -"You zany, I know all your talk. Hold your tongue. Not a glass of beer -will I send out, if this is all I get for it. Sweeten them, indeed! -And when we want them, are we to dig them with mattocks, pray? Or do -you thick-heads expect it to thaw to order, when the pot is bubbling? -Stir your lazy legs, or I'll throw every one of you on the work-house -the moment the first snow falls." - -The three men grinned at one another, and proceeded leisurely. They -knew much better than the Squire himself what his gentle nature was, -and that he always expiated a scolding with a jug of beer. - -"Man and boy," said the eldest of them, speaking below his breath, as -if this tyranny had extinguished him; "in this here gearden have I -worked, man and boy, for threescore year, and always gi'en -satisfaction. Workuss! What would his father a' said, to hear tell in -this gearden of workuss? Workuss! Well, let un coom, if a will! Can't -be harder work, God knoweth." - -"Tummuss, Tummuss, you may say that," said another lazy rascal, -shaking his head, with his heel on his spade, and then wiping his -forehead laboriously. "'Tis the sweat of our brow, Tummuss, none of -'em thinks on--but there, they was born to be driving of us!" - -Squire Oglander made as if he heard them not; and then he hurried to -the hedge again, and stood on the wall of the leaf-mould pit, and -peered over the beard of hollies. And this time he spied in the -distance Cripps, or at any rate the tilt of the Crippsian cart, -jogging sedately to the rhythm of the feet of Dobbin. - -"Hurrah!" cried the Squire, who was still as young in mind as if he -had no body. "By George, we shall be just in time. Never mind what I -said, my lads. I was a little bit cross, I know. Take out the crumbs -from the bottom of your trenches, and go two inches deeper. Our new -potatoes are come at last! Mary, come out with a gallon of ale." - -Squire Oglander, having retired now from the army and all warfare, was -warmly devoted to the arts of peace. Farming, planting, gardening, -breeding, training of dogs, and so on--all of these quiet delights -fell softly on a very active mind, when the vigour of the body began -to fail. He loved his farm, and he loved his garden, and all his -attempts at improvement, and nothing better than to point out his own -mistakes to rash admirers. But where is the pleasure of showing things -to strangers who know nothing? The old man's grand delight of all was -to astonish his own daughter, his only child, Grace Oglander. - -This it was that made him work so hard at the present moment. He was -determined to have his kitchen garden in first-rate winter order by -the time his daughter should come home from a visit to her aunt at -Cowley. Now this sister, Mrs. Fermitage, had promised to bring home -their joint pet Gracie in time for the dinner at five o'clock that -very day, and to dine there with them; so that it was needful to look -alive, and to make quick step of everything. Moreover, this good -Squire had some little insight (as behoves a farmer and a sportsman) -into the ways and meaning of the weather of the neighbourhood. He knew -as well as a short-tailed field-mouse that a long frost was coming. -The sharp dry rustle of the upturned leaves of holly and of ivy, the -heavy stoop of the sullen sky, the patches of spaded mould already -browning with powdery crispness, the upward shivering look of the -grass, and the loss of all gloss upon everything, and the shuddering -rattle in the teeth of a man who opened his mouth to the wind at -all--many other things than these, as well as all of them, were here; -that any man (not blind, or deaf, or choked in citied ignorance) might -fall to at once, and dig every root of his potatoes. - -But the strange thing, in this present matter, was that Squire -Oglander was bent not only on digging potatoes, but also on planting -them, this very day. Forsooth it was one of his fixed dates in the -chronicles of the garden, that happen what might, or be the season -whatsoever it chose to be, new potatoes and peas he would have by the -last day of May, at the latest. And this without any ignoble resort to -forcing-pit, hot-bed, or even cold frame; under the pure gaze of the -sky, by that time they must be ready. Now, this may be easy at -Ventnor, or Penzance, or even Bournemouth; but in the highlands of -Oxfordshire it requires some skill and management. In the first place, -both pea and potato must be of a kind that is ready to awake right -early; and then they must be humoured with a very choice place; and -after that they must be shielded from the winter's rages. If all these -"musts" can be complied with, and several "ifs" are solved aright, the -gardener (eager as well as patient) may hope to get pleasure from his -early work. - -Of all men there was none perhaps more capable of hoping than this -good Squire Oglander. In his garden and his household, or among his -friends and neighbours, or the world at large, he not only tried to -see, but saw, the very best side of everything. When things fell out -amiss, he always looked very wise, and shook his head, and declared -that he had predicted them; and before very long he began to find out -that they were not so bad as they might have been. His ruddy face, and -blue eyes, and sometimes decidedly waggish nose, as well as his crisp -white hair, and way of standing to be looked at, let everybody know -that here was a man of no great pretension, yet true, and of kind and -happy heart, and fit to be relied upon. Ten thousand such may be found -in England; and they cannot be too many. - -"Inside and outside, all look alive!" cried this gentleman, running to -and fro: "Gracie will be home; Miss Grace, I mean; and not a bit of -fire in the drawing-room grate! No Christmas-boxes for any of you -sluts! Now, I did not mean that, Mary, as you might know. Inside the -women, and outside the men--now, what is this paper for, my dear?" - -"That there Cripps, sir, have a sent 'un in. He be gettin' so -pertikular!" - -"Quite right. Quite right. Business is business. No man can be too -particular. Let him sit down and have a pint of ale. He wants me to -sign this paper, does he? Very well; tell him to come next week. My -fingers are cramped with the wind. Tell Cripps--now, don't you be in -such a hurry, Mary; Cripps is not a marrying man." - -"As if I would touch him with a pair of tongs, sir! A Hookham to have -a Cripps, sir!--a man who always smells as if he had been a-combing of -a horse!" - -"Ah, poor Mary, the grapes are sour. Tell bachelor Cripps to send in -the bag. And bring me the little truck-basket, Mary; I dare say that -will hold them. Just in time, they are only just in time. To-morrow -would have been a day too late." - -The Squire was to pay a guinea for this bushel of early oakleaf -potatoes, a sort that was warranted to beat the ashleaf by a -fortnight, and to crop tenfold as much. The bag had been sent by the -Henley coach from a nursery near Maidenhead, and left at the Black -Horse in St. Clement's, to be called for by the Beckley carrier. - -"Stay now," cried the Squire; "now I think of it we will unpack the -bag in the brewery, Mary. They have had a fire there all the morning. -And it will save making any mess in here. Miss Grace is coming, bless -her heart! And she'll give it to me, if she finds any dirt." - -"But, sir, if you please, Master Cripps now just is beginning of his -pint of ale. And he never hurrieth over that----" - -"Well, we don't want Cripps. We only want the bag. Jem will bring it -into the brewery, if you want to sit with Cripps. Cripps is tired, I -dare say. These young men's legs are not fit for much. Stop--call old -Thomas; he's the best, after all. If I want a thing done, I come back -to the old folk, after all." - -"Well, sir, I don't think you have any reason to say that. Howsomever, -here cometh Mr. Kale. Mr. Kale, if you please, you be wanted." - -Presently Thomas Kale, the man who had worked so long in the garden -there, followed his master across the court, with the bag of potatoes -on his back. The weight was a trifle, of course, being scarcely over -half a hundredweight; but Thomas was too old a hand to make too light -of anything. - -"I've knowed the time," he said, setting down the sack on the head of -an empty barrel, "when that there weight would have failed, you might -say, to crook my little finger. Now, make so bold--do you know the -raison?" - -"Why, Thomas, we cannot expect to be always so young as we were once, -you know." - -"Nout to do wi' it--less nor nout. The raison lie all in the vittels, -maister; the vittels is fallen from what they was." - -"Thomas, you give me no peace with your victuals. You must groan to -the cook, not to me, about them. Now, cut the cord. Why, what has -Cripps been about?" - -The bag was made of a stout grey canvas, not so thick as sacking, and -as the creases of the neck began to open, under the slackening cord, -three or four red stripes were shown, such as are sometimes to be -found in the neck of a leather mail-bag, when the postmaster has been -in a hurry, and dropped his wax too plenteously. But the stripes in -these creases were not dry and brittle, as of run sealing-wax, but -clammy and damp, as if some thick fluid had oozed from dripping -fingers. - -"I don't like the look of it," cried the old Squire. "Cripps should be -more careful. He has left the bag down at his brother the butcher's. I -am sure they never sent it out like this. Not that I am of a squeamish -order, but still--good God! What is this that I see?" - -With scarcely time for his cheeks to blanch, or his firm old hands to -tremble, Squire Oglander took from the mouth of the sack a coil of -long bright golden hair. The brown shade of the potatoes beneath it -set off its glistening beauty. He knew it at a glance; there was no -such hair in all Oxfordshire but his Gracie's. A piece of paper was -roughly twisted in and out the shining wreath. This he spread in the -hollow of his palm, and then put on his spectacles, and read by the -waning light these words, "All you will ever see of her." - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -CRIPPS IN A QUANDARY. - - -Worth Oglander, now in his seventieth year, although he might be a -trifle fat, was a truly hale and active man. His limbs were as sound -as his conscience; and he was well content with his life and age. He -had seen a good deal of the world and of enemies, in the stirring -times of war. But no wrong lay in the bottom of his heart, no harm -ever done to any one, except that he had killed a few Frenchmen, -perhaps, as all Englishmen used to be forced to do. - -Moreover, he had what most folk now, of the very best kind, have -almost outlived, a staunch and steadfast faith in the management of -the world by its Maker. We are too clever now for all this, of course. -But it must be allowed that this fine old faith bred courage, truth, -and comfort. - -"Whoever has played this trick with me," said the Squire, as soon as -he recovered himself, "is, to say the least of it, a blackguard. Even -for a Christmas joke, it is carrying things a great deal too far. I -have played, and been played, many practical jokes, when there was -nothing else to do; in winter-quarters, and such like. But this is -beyond---- Thomas, run and fetch Cripps. I will get to the bottom of -this, I am resolved." - -In a minute or two Master Cripps came in. His face was a little -flushed, from the power of the compliments paid to Mary, but his eyes -were quite firm, and his breeches and gaiters strictly under -discipline of the legs inside them. - -"Servant, sir," he said, touching his forelock, nearly of the colour -of clover hay; "all correct, I hope, Squire, safe and sound and in -good condition. That's how I deliver all goods, barring the will of -the A'mighty." - -"Tell me the meaning of this." As he spoke Mr. Oglander held up the -bright wreath of hair, and pointed to the red stains on the sack. -Cripps, as behoved a slow-minded man, stared at the hair, and the bag, -and the Squire, the roof of the brewery, and all the tubs; and then -began feeling in his hat for orders. - -"Cripps, are you dumb; are you tipsy; or what? Or are you too much -ashamed of yourself?" - -"I ain't done nort for to be ashamed of--me, nor my father avoore me." - -"Then will you tell me what this means? Are you going to keep me all -night, for God's sake?" - -"Squire, I never, I never see'd 'un. I know no more than a sto-un. I -know no more than the dead, I do." - -"Where did you get the bag? Was it like this? Who gave it to you? Have -you let it out of sight? Did you see anybody come near it?" - -"Squire, I can't tell 'ee such a many things. They heft up the barg to -me at the Black Horse, where the bargs is alwas left for you. I took -no heed of 'un, out of common. And no one have a titched him since, -but me." - -There was nothing more to be learned from Cripps, except that he -passed the Black Horse that day a little earlier than usual, and had -not brought his sister Esther, who was to have met him at the Golden -Cross. He had come home by way of Elsfield, having something to -deliver there, and had given a lift to old Shepherd Wakeling; but that -could have naught to do with it. - -It was now getting dark, and the Squire every moment grew more and -more uneasy. "Keep all this nonsense to yourself now, Cripps," he -said, as he stowed the bag under a tub, and carefully covered his -daughter's hair, and the piece of paper, with a straining sieve; "it -might annoy me very much if this joke went any further, you know. I -can trust Thomas to hold his tongue, and I hope I can trust you, -neighbour Cripps." - -"Your honour knoweth what I be," answered the loyal Carrier. "Ever -since I were a boy--but there, they all knows what I be." - -Master Cripps, with his brain "a good piece doiled," as he afterwards -said of it, made his way back to the cart, and mounted in his special -manner. Although he was only two-score years of age, he had so much -rheumatism in his right knee--whether it sprang from the mud, or the -ruts, or (as he believed) from the turnpike gates--that he was bound -to get up in this way. First he looked well up and down the lane, to -be sure there was no other cart in sight, then he said "whoa-hoa" to -Dobbin (who was always quite ready to receive that advice), and then -he put his left foot on the little step, and made sure that it was -quite steady. Throwing his weight on that foot, he laid hold of the -crupper with his right hand, and placed his stiff knee on the flat of -the shaft, never without a groan or two. At this stage he rested, to -collect his powers; and then with decisive action flung his left foot -upon the footboard, and casting the weight of his body thither, came -down on the seat, with a thump and rattle. He was now all right, and -Dobbin felt it, and acknowledged the fact with a grateful grunt. Then -Carrier Cripps took up the reins, and made a little flourish with his -brass-bound whip, and Dobbin put up his head, and started with his -most convenient foot. - -"I dunno what to make of this here start," said Cripps to himself, and -his horse and cart, as soon as he had smitten his broad chest long -enough to arouse circulation. "Seemeth to me a queer thing truly. But -I never were a hand at a riddle. Wugg then, Dobbin! Wun'not go home -to-night?" - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -A RIDE THROUGH THE SNOW. - - -Meanwhile the old Squire, with a troubled mind, kept talking and -walking about, and listening for the rumble of his sister's carriage, -the clank of horses' hoofs, and the ring of wheels upon the frozen -road. He could not believe that any one in the world would hurt his -darling Gracie. Everybody loved her so, and the whole parish was so -fond of her, and she had such a way of easing every one's -perplexities, that if any villain durst even think of touching a hair -of her blessed head--yet whose hair was it?--whose hair was it? And -such a quantity as never could have been cut with her consent! - -"This is too much! I cannot bear it!" he said to himself, after many a -turn, and anxious search of the distance; "Joan's carriage should have -been here long ago. My darling would have made them keep their time. I -cannot stop here: I must go to meet them. But I need not startle any -one." - -To provide for this, he just looked in at the kitchen door, and told -the old cook to keep the dinner back awhile; for the roads were so bad -that the ladies were almost sure to be behind their time; and then he -went quietly to the stable, where the horses were bedded down, and by -the light of an old horn lantern saddled and bridled his favourite -hack. - -Heavy snow-clouds had been gathering all the afternoon; and now as he -passed through a side-gate into the lane, and turned his mare's head -eastward, the forward flakes were borne by the sharp wind into his -white whiskers. "We shall have a coarse night of it, I doubt," he said -to himself, as he buttoned his coat. At every turn of the lane he -hoped to meet his sister's chariot labouring up the slippery track -with the coal-black horses gray with snow, and somebody well wrapped -up inside, to make him laugh at his childish fears. But corner after -corner he turned, and met no carriage, no cart, no horse, nor even so -much as a man afoot; only the snow getting thicker and sharper, and -the wind beginning to wail to it. The ruts of the lane grew more -distinct, as their combs of frozen mud attracted and held the driving -whiteness; and the frogs of heavy cart-horses might be traced by the -hoary increment. Then in three or four minutes, a silvery greyness -(cast by the brown face of the roadway underlying the skin of snow) -glistened between steep hedgerows wherein the depth of darkness -rested. Soon even these showed traitor members, and began to hang the -white feather forth, where drooping spray or jutting thicket stopped -the course of the laden air. Every hoof of the horse fell softer than -it had fallen the step before, and the old man stooped to heed his -reins, as his hoary eyebrows crusted. - -Fear struck colder to his heart than frost, as he turned the last -corner of his way, without meeting presence or token of his sister or -darling daughter. In the deepening snow he drew his horse up under the -two great yew-trees that overhung his sister's gate, and fumbled in -the dark for the handle. The close heavy gates were locked and barred; -and nothing had lately passed through them. Then he hoped that the -weather might have stopped the carriage, and he tugged out the heavy -bronze lion's-head in the pillar, which was the bell-pull. The bell in -the porch of the house clanged deeply, and the mastiff heavily bayed -at him; but he had to make the bell clang thrice before any servant -answered it. - -"Who be you there?" at last a gruff voice asked, without stretch of -courtesy. "This sort of weather, come ringing like that! If 'ee say -much more, I'll let the big dog loose." - -"Open the gate, you young oaf," cried the Squire. "I suppose you are -one of the new lot, eh? Not to know me, Worth Oglander!" - -"Why couldn't you have said so then?" the surly fellow answered, as he -slowly opened one leaf of the gate, sweeping a fringe of snow back. - -"Such a fellow wouldn't be with me half a day. Are you too big for -your work, sir? Run on before me, you piecrust in pumps, or you shall -taste my whip, sir." - -The footman, for once in his life, took his feet up, and ran in a -bluster of rage and terror to the front door, which he had left wide -open to secure a retreat from violence. Mr. Oglander struck his mare, -and she started so that he scarcely pulled her head up under the -coigne of his sister's porch. - -"What is all this, I would beg to know? If you think to frighten me, -you are mistaken. Oh, Worth is it? Worth, whatever do you mean by -making such a commotion?" - -Three or four frightened maids were peeping, safe in the gloom of the -entrance-hall; while the lady of the house came forward bravely in the -lamp-light. - -"I will speak to you presently, Joan," said the Squire, as he vainly -searched, with a falling heart, for some dear face behind her. "Here, -Bob, I know you at any rate; take the old mare to the stable." - -Then, with a sign to his sister, he followed her softly into the -dining-room. At a glance he saw that she had dined alone, and he fell -into a chair, and could not speak. - -"Have you brought back the stockings? Why, how ill you look? The cold -has been too much for you, brother. You should not have come out. What -was Grace doing to let----" - -"Where is my daughter Grace?" - -"Your daughter Grace! My niece Grace! Why, at home in her father's -house, to be sure! Worth, are your wits wandering?" - -"When did Grace leave you?" - -"At three o'clock, yesterday. How can you ask, when you sent in such -hot haste for her? You might be quite sure that she would not linger. -I thought it rather--let me tell you----" - -"I never sent for Grace. I have not seen her!" - -Mrs. Fermitage looked at her brother steadily, with one hand fencing -her forehead. She knew that he was of no drunken kind--yet once in a -way a man might take too much--especially in such weather. But he -answered her gaze with such eyes that she came up to him, and began to -tremble. - -"I tell you, Joan, I never sent for Grace. If you don't know where she -is--none but God knows!" - -"I have told you all," his sister answered, catching her breath at -every word almost--"a letter came from you, overruling the whole of -our arrangement--you were not ill; but you wanted her for some -particular purpose. She was to walk, and you would meet her; and walk -she did, poor darling! And I was so hurt that I would not send----" - -"You let her go, Joan! You let her go! It was a piece of your proud -temper. Her death lies at your door. And so will mine!" - -Mr. Oglander was very sorry, as soon as he had spoken thus unjustly; -but the deep pang of the heart devoured any qualms of conscience. - -"Are you sure that you let her go? Are you sure that she is not in -this house now?" he cried, coming up to his sister, and taking both -hands to be sure of her. "She must be here; and you are joking with -me." - -"Worth, she left this house at two o'clock by that timepiece -yesterday, instead of to-day, as we meant to do. She would not let any -one go with her, because you were coming down the hill to meet her. -Not expecting to go home that day, she had a pair of my silk stockings -on, because--well, I need not go into that--and knowing what a darling -little fidget she is, I thought she had sent you back with them, and -to make your peace for so flurrying me." - -"Have you nothing more to tell me, Joan? I shall go mad while you -dwell on your stockings. Who brought that letter? What is become of -it? Did you see it? Can you think of anything? Oh, Joan, you women are -so quick-witted! Surely you can think of something!" - -Mrs. Fermitage knew what her brother meant; but no sign would she show -of it. The Squire was thinking of a little touch of something that -might have grown up into love, if Grace had not been so shy about it, -and so full of doubts as to what she ought to do. Her aunt had been -anxious to help this forward; but not for the world to speak of it. - -"Concerning the letter, I only just saw it. I was up--well, well, I -mean I happened to have something to do in my own room then. The dear -creature knocked at my door, and I could not let her in at the -moment----" - -"You were doing your wig--well, well, go on." - -"I was doing nothing of the kind--your anxiety need not make you rude, -Worth. However, she put the letter under the door, and I saw that it -was your handwriting, and so urgent that I was quite flurried, and she -was off in two minutes, without my even kissing her. Oh, poor dear! My -little dear! She said good-bye through the key-hole, and could not -wait for me even to kiss her!" - -At this thought the elderly lady broke down, and could for the moment -do nothing but sob. - -"Dear heart, dear heart!" cried the Squire, who was deeply attached to -his sister; "don't take on so, my dear good Joan! We know of no harm -as yet--that is"--for he thought of the coil of hair, but with strong -effort forbore to speak of it--"nothing I mean in any way positive, or -disastrous. She may have, you know--she may have taken it into her -head to--to leave us for awhile, Joan." - -"To run away! To elope! Not she! She is the last girl in the world to -do it. Whatever may have happened, she has not done that. You ought to -know better than that, Worth." - -"Perhaps I do; I have no more time to talk of that, or any other -thing. I shall hurry into Oxford, and see John Smith, and let -everybody know of it. What do I care what people think? Send a man on -horseback to Beckley at once. Have you any man worth a pinch of salt? -You are always changing so." - -"I cannot keep cripples, or sots, dear brother. Take any one you -please of them." - -"Any one who will deign to come, you should say. Deep snow tries the -mettle of new-comers." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -THE PUBLIC OF THE "PUBLIC." - - -Meanwhile, Esther Cripps, who perhaps could have thrown some light on -this strange affair, was very uneasy in her mind. She had not heard, -of course, as yet, that Grace Oglander was missing. But she could not -get rid of the fright she had felt, and the dread of some dark secret. -Her sister-in-law was in such a condition that she must not be told of -it; and as for her brother Exodus, it would be worse than useless to -speak to him. He had taken it into his head, ever since that business -with the "College gent," that his sister was not "right-minded"--that -she dreamed things, and imagined things; and that anything she liked -to say should be listened to, and thought no more of. And Baker Cripps -was one of those men from whose minds no hydraulic power can lift an -idea--laid once, laid for ever. - -Esther had no one to tell her tale to. She longed to be home at -Beckley; but there had been such symptoms with the baker's wife, that -a woman, of the largest experience to be found in Oxford, declared -that there was another coming. This was not so. But still (as all the -women said) it might have been; and where was the man to lay down the -law to them that had been through it? - -The whole of this was made quite right in the end and everybody -satisfied; but it prevented poor Esther from going to the Golden -Cross, as she should have done; and the Carrier (having a little tiff -with his brother about a sack of meal, as long ago as Michaelmas) left -him to bake his own bread, and would rather drive over his dinner than -dine with him. - -The days of the week are hard to follow, as everybody must have long -found out; but still, from Tuesday to Saturday is a considerable time -to think of. Master Cripps had two carrying days, two great days of -long voyaging. Not that he refrained from coasting here and there -about the parish, or up and down a lane or two, on days of briefer -enterprise; or refused to take some washings round; for he was not the -man to be ashamed of earning sixpence honourably. - -But now such weather had set in, that even Cripps, with his active -turn and pride in his honest calling, was forced to stay at home and -boil the bones the butcher sent him, and nurse his stiff knee, and -smoke his pipe, and go no further than his bed of hardy kail, or -Dobbin's stable. Except that when the sun went down--if it ever got -up, for aught he knew--his social instincts so awoke, that he managed -to go to the corner of the lane, where the blacksmith kept the -"public-house." This was a most respectable house, frequented very -quietly. Master Cripps, from his intercourse with the world, and -leading position in Beckley, as well as his pleasant way of letting -other people talk, and nodding when their words were wisdom--Cripps -had long been accepted as the oracle; and he liked it. - -Even there--in his brightest moments, when he smoked his pipe and -thought, leaving emptier folk to waste the income of their brain in -words, and even when he had been roused up to settle some vast -question by a brief emphatic utterance--his satisfaction was now -alloyed. Not from any threat of rival wisdom--that was hopeless--but -from the universal call for a guiding judgment from him. The whole of -Beckley village now was more upset than had been known for thirty -years and upward. Ever since Napoleon had been expected to encamp at -Carfax, and all the University went into white gaiters against him, -there had been no such stir of parochial mind as now was heaving. -Cripps could remember the former movement, and how his father had lost -wisdom by saying that nothing would come of it--whereas the greatest -things came of it; the tailor was bankrupt by making breeches which -the Government would not pay for, the publican bought a horse and -defied his brewer on the strength of it, and the parish-clerk limped -for the rest of his life through the loss of two toes when -tipsy--therefore Zacchary Cripps was now determined to hide his -opinion. - -When the mind is in this uncertain state, it fails of receiving that -consideration which it is slowly exerting. If Cripps had stood up, and -rashly spoken, he must have carried all before him: whereas now he -felt, and was grieved to feel, that shallow fellows were taking his -place, by dint of decisive ignorance. This Friday evening, everybody, -who had teeth to face the arrowy wind, came into the Dusty Anvil, well -laden with enormous rumours. - -Phil Hiss, the blacksmith, had a daughter, who served him as a -barmaid, Amelia, or Mealy Hiss; a year or two older than Miss -Oglander, and in the simple country fashion (setting birth and rank -aside) a true ally and favourite. Now, some old woman in Beckley had -said, as long ago as yesterday, that she could not believe but what -Mealy Hiss, who dressed herself so outrageous, knew a deal more than -she dared speak out concerning that wonderful unkid thing about the -Squire's daughter. For her part, this old woman was sure that a young -man lay at the bottom of it. Them good young ladies that went to the -school, and made up soup and such-like, was not a bit better than the -rest of us; and if butter wouldn't melt in their mouths, pitchforks -wouldn't choke them. She would say no more, it was no concern of hers; -and everybody knew what she was. But as sure as her copper burst that -morning, something would come out ere long; and Mealy would be at the -bottom of it! - -Miss Amelia Hiss, before she lit her two tallow-candles--which never -was allowed to be done till a quart of beer had been called for--knew -right well that all her wits must be brought into use that evening. A -young man, who had a liking for her, which she was beginning to think -about, came in before his time to tell her all that Gammer Gurdon -said. Wherefore she put on her new neck-ribbon (believed to have come -express from London) and her agate brooch, and other most imposing -properties. With the confidence of all these, she drew the ale, and -kept her distance. - -For an hour or so these tactics answered. Young men, old men, and good -women (who came of course for their husbands' sakes), soberly took -their little drop of beer, nodded to one another, and said little. -Pressure lay on heart and mind; and nature's safety-valve, the tongue, -was sat upon by prudence. But this, of course, could not last long. -Little jerkings of short questions broke the crust of silence; lips -from blowing froth of beer began to relax their grimness; eyelids that -had drooped went up, and winks grew into friendly gaze; and everybody -began to beg everybody's pardon less. The genial power of good ale, -and the presence of old friends, were working on the solid English -hearts; and every man was ready for his neighbour to say something. - -Hiss, the blacksmith and the landlord, felt that on his heavy -shoulders lay the duty of promoting warmth and cordiality. He sat -without a coat, as usual, and his woolsey sleeves rolled back -displayed the proper might of arm. In one grimy hand he held a pipe, -at which he had given the final puff, and in the other a broad-rimmed -penny, ready to drop it into the balance of the brass tobacco-box, and -open it for a fresh supply. First he glanced at the door, to be sure -that his daughter Mealy could not hear; for ever since her mother's -death he had stood in some awe of Mealy; and then receiving from -Zacchary Cripps a nod of grave encouragement, he fixed his eyes on him -through the smoke, and uttered what all were inditing of. - -"I call this a very rum start, I do, about poor Squire's daughter." - -The public of the public gazed with admiring approval at him. The -sentiment was their own, and he had put it well and briefly. In -different ways, according to the state and manner of each of them, -they let him know that he was right, and might hold on by what he -said. Then Master Hiss grew proud of this, and left it for some other -body to bear the weight of thinking out. But even before his broad -forefinger had quite finished with his pipe, and pressed the crown of -fuel flat, a man of no particular wisdom, and without much money, -could not check a weak desire to say something striking. His name was -Batts, and he kept a shop, and many things in it which he could not -sell. Before he spoke, he took precautions to secure an audience, by -standing up, and rapping the table with the heel of his half-pint mug. -"Hear, hear!" cried some young fellow; and Batts was afraid that he -had gone too far. - -"Gentlemen," said Grocer Batts, the very same man who had threatened -to put his son into the carrying line, "I bows, in course, to superior -wisdom, and them as is always to and fro. But every man must think his -thoughts, right or wrong, and speak them out, and not be afeared of no -one. And my mind is that in this here business, we be all of us going -to work the wrong way altogether." - -As no one had any sense as yet of having gone to work at all, in this -or any other matter, and several men had made up their minds to be -thrown out of work on the Saturday night if the bitter weather lasted, -this great speech of Grocer Batts created some confusion. - -"Let 'un go to work, hisself!" "What do he know about work?" -"Altogether wrong! Give me the saw-dust for to clear my throat!" These -and stronger exclamations showed poor Batts that it would have been -better for trade if he had held his tongue. He hid his discomfiture in -his mug, and made believe to drink, although it had ever so long been -empty. - -But Carrier Cripps had a generous soul. He did not owe so much as a -halfpenny piece to Master Batts, neither did he expect to make a -single halfpenny out of him--quite the contrary, in fact; and yet he -came to his rescue. - -"Touching what neighbour Batts have said," he began in his slow and -steadfast voice, "it may be neither here nor there; and all of us be -liable, in our best of times, to error. But I do believe as he means -well, and hath a good deal inside him, and a large family to put up -with. He may be right, and all us in the wrong. Time will show, with -patience. I have knowed so many things as looked at first unlikely, -come true as Gospel in the end, and so many things I were sure of turn -out quite contrairy, that whenever a man hath aught to say, I likes to -hearken to him. There now, I han't no more to say; and I leave you to -make the best of it." - -Zacchary rose, for his time was up; he saw that hot words might ensue, -and he detested brawling. Moreover, although he did not always keep -strict time with his horse and cart, no man among the living could be -more punctual to his pillow. With kind "good-nights" from all, he -passed, and left the smoky scene behind. As he stopped at the bar to -say good-bye, and to pay his score to Amelia, for whom he had a -liking, a short, quick, rosy man came in, shaking snow from his boots, -and seeming to have lost his way that night. By the light from the -bar, the Carrier knew him, and was about to speak to him, but received -a sign to hold his tongue, and pass on without notice. Clumsily enough -he did as he was bidden, and went forth, puzzled in his homely pate by -this new piece of mystery. - -For the man who passed him was John Smith, not as yet well-known, but -held by all who had experience of him to be the shrewdest man in -Oxford. This man quietly went into the sanded parlour, and took his -glass, and showed good manners to the company. They set him down as a -wayfarer, but a pleasant one, and well to do; and as words began to -kindle with the friction of opinions, he listened to all that was -said, but did not presume to side with any one. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THE BEST FOOT FOREMOST. - - -The arrows of the snowy wind came shooting over Shotover. It was -Saturday now of that same week with which we began on Tuesday. The -mercury during those four days had not risen once above 28° of -Fahrenheit, and now it stood about 22°, and lower than that in the -river meadows. Trusty and resolute Dobbin never had a harder job than -now. Some parts of Headington Hill give pretty smart collar-work in -the best of times; and now with deep snow scarred by hoofs, and ridged -by wheels, but not worn down, hard it seemed for a horse, however -sagacious, to judge what to do. Dobbin had seen snow ere now, and gone -through a good deal of it. But that was before the snow had fallen so -thickly on his own mane and tail, and even his wise eyebrows. That was -in the golden days, when youth and quick impatience moved him, and the -biggest flint before his wheel was crushed, with a snort at the -road-surveyor. - -But now he was come to a different state of body, and therefore of -spirit too. At his time of life it would not do to be extravagant of -strength; it was not comely to kick up the heels; neither was it wise -to cherish indignation at the whip. So now on the homeward road, with -a heavy Christmas-laden cart to drag, this fine old horse took good -care of himself, and having only a choice of evils, chose the least -that he could find. - -Alas, the smallest that he could find were great and very heavy ills. -Scarcely any man stops to think of the many weary cares that weigh -upon the back of an honest horse. Men are eloquent on the trouble that -sits behind the horseman; but the silent horse may bear all that, and -the troublesome man in the saddle to boot, without any poet to pity -him. Dobbin knew all this, but was too much of a horse to dwell on it. -He kept his tongue well under bit, and his eyes in sagacious blinkers, -and sturdily up the hill he stepped, while Cripps, his master, trudged -beside him. - -Every "talented" man must think, whenever he walks beside a horse, of -the superior talents of the horse--the bounty of nature in four curved -legs, the pleasure there must be in timing them, the pride of the hard -and goutless feet, the glory of the mane (to which the human beard is -no more than seaweed in a billow), the power of blowing (which no man -has in a comely and decorous form); and last, not least, the final -blessing of terminating usefully in a tail. Zacchary Cripps was a man -of five talents, and traded with them wisely; but often as he walked -beside his horse, and smelled his superiority, he became quite humble, -and wiped his head, and put his whip back in the cart again. The -horse, on the other hand, looked up to Zacchary with soft faith and -love. He knew that his master could not be expected quite to -understand the ways a horse is bound to have of getting on in -harness--the hundreds of things that must needs be done--and done in -proper order, too--the duty of going always like a piece of the finest -music, with chains, and shafts, and buckles, and hard leather to be -harmonized, and the load which men are not born to drag, until they -make it for themselves. Dobbin felt the difference, but he never -grumbled as men do. - -He made the best of the situation; and it was a hard one. The hill was -strong against the collar; and, by reason of the snow, zigzag and the -corkscrew tactics could not be resorted to. At all of these he was a -dab, by dint of steep experience; but now the long hill must be -breasted, and both shoulders set to it. The ruts were as slippery as -glass, and did not altogether fit the wheels he had behind him; and in -spite of the spikes which the blacksmith gave him, the snow balled on -his hairy feet. So he stopped, and shook himself, and panted with -large resolutions; and Cripps from his capacious pockets fetched the -two oak wedges, and pushed one under either wheel; while Esther, who -was coming home at last, jumped from her seat, to help the load, and -patted Dobbin's kind nose, and said a word or two to cheer him. - -"The best harse as ever looked through a bridle," Zacchary declared -across his mane; "but he must be hoomered with his own way now, same -as the rest on us, when us grows old. Etty, my dear, no call for you -to come down and catch chilblains." - -"Zak, I am going to push behind. I am not big enough to do much good. -But I would rather be alongside of you, through this here bend of the -road, I would." - -For now the dusk was gathering in, as they toiled up the lonesome and -snowy road where it overhung the "Gipsy's Grave." - -"This here bend be as good as any other," said Cripps, though himself -afraid of it. "What ails you, girl? What hath ailed you, ever since -out of Oxford town you come? Is it a jail thou be coming home to? -Oxford turns the head of thee!" - -"Now, Zak, you know better than that. I would liefer be at Beckley any -day. But I have been that frightened since I passed this road on -Tuesday night that scarce a morsel could I eat or drink, and never -sleep for dreaming." - -"Frightened, child? Lord, bless my heart! you make me creep by talking -so. There, wait till we be in our own lane--can't spare the time now -to speak of it." - -"Oh, but, Zak, if you please, you must. I have had it on my mind so -long. And I kept it for you, till we got to the place, that you might -go and see to it." - -"Etty, now, this is childish stuff; no time to hearken to any such -tell-up. Enough to do, the Lord knows there be, without no foolish -stories." - -"It is not a foolish story, Zak. It is what I saw with my own eyes. We -are close to the place; it was in a dark hollow, just below the road -on here. I will show you; and then I will stand by the cart, while you -go and seek into it." - -"I wun't leave the haigh road for any one, I tell 'ee. All these goods -is committed to my charge, and my dooty is to stick to them. A likely -thing as I'd leave the cart to be robbed in that there sort of way. -Ah, ha! they'd soon find out, I reckon, what Zacchary Cripps is made -of." - -"Ah, we all know how brave you are, dear Zak. And perhaps you wouldn't -like to leave me, brother?" - -"No, no; of course not. How could I do it? All by yourself, and the -weather getting dark. Hup! Hup! Dobbin, there. Best foot foremost -kills the hill." - -But Esther was even more strongly set to tell the story and relieve -her mind, than Zacchary was to relieve his mind by turning a deaf ear -to all of it. Nevertheless, she might have failed, if it had not been -for a lucky chance. Dobbin, after a very fine rush, and spirited -bodily tug at the shafts, was suddenly forced to pull up and pant, and -spread his legs, to keep where he was, until his wind should come back -again. And he stopped with the off-wheel of the cart within a few -yards of the gap in the hedge, where Esther began her search that -night. She knew the place at a glance, although in the snow it looked -so different; and she ran to the gap, and peeped as if she expected to -see it all again. - -In all the beauty of fair earth, few things are more beautiful than -snow on clustering ivy-leaves. Wednesday's fall had been shaken off; -for even in the coldest weather, jealous winds and evaporation soon -clear foliage of snow. But a little powdery shed of flakes had come at -noon that very day, like the flitting of a fairy; and every delicate -star shone crisply in its cupped or pillowed rest. The girl was afraid -to shake a leaf, because she had her best bonnet on; therefore she -drew back, and called the reluctant Zacchary to gaze. - -"Nort but a sight of snow," said he; "it hath almost filled old quarry -up. Harse have rested, and so have we. Shan't be home by candlelight. -Wugg then! Dobbin--wugg then! wilt 'a?" - -"Stop, brother, stop! Don't be in such a hurry. Something I must tell -you now, that I have been feared to tell anybody else. It was so -dreadfully terrible! Do you see anything in the snow down there?" - -"As I am a sinner, there be something moving. Jump up into the cart, -girl. I shall never get round with my things to-night." - -"There is something there, Zak, that will never move again. There is -the dead body of a woman there!" - -"No romantics! No romantics!" the Carrier answered as he turned away; -but his cheeks beneath a week's growth of beard turned as white as the -snow in the buckthorn. No living man might scare him--but a woman, and -a dead one---- - -"Come, Zak," cried Esther, having seen much worse than she was likely -now to see, "you cannot be afraid of 'romantics,' Zak. Come here, and -I will show thee." - -Driven by shame and curiosity, the valiant Cripps came back to her, -and even allowed himself to be led a little way through the gap into -the deep untrodden and drifted snow. She took him as far as a corner, -whence the nook of the quarry was visible; and there with trembling -fingers pointed to a vast billow of pure white, piled by the driving -east wind over the grave, as she thought, of the murdered one. - -"Enough," he said, having heard her tale, and becoming at once a man -again in the face of something real; "my dear, what a fright thou must -have had! How couldst thou have kept it all this time? I would not -tell thee our news at home, for fear of tarrifying thee in the cold. -Hath no one to Oxford told thee?" - -"Told me what? Oh, Zak, dear Zak, I am so frightened, I can hardly -stand." - -"Then run, girl, run! We must go home, fast as ever we can, for -constable." - -He took her to the cart, and reckless of Dobbin's indignation, lashed -him up the hill, and made him trot the whole length of Beckley lane, -then threw a sack over his loins and left his Christmas parcels in the -frost and snow, while he hurried to Squire Oglander. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -BALDERDASH. - - -Worth Oglander sat in his old oak chair, weary, and very low of heart, -but not altogether broken down. He had not been in bed since last -Monday night, and had slept, if at all, in the saddle, or on the roof -of the Henley and Maidenhead coach. For miles he had scoured the -country round, until his three horses quite broke down, with the -weather so much against them; and all the bran to be got in the -villages was made away with in mashes. One of these horses "got the -pipes;" and had to be tickled before he could eat. - -The Squire cared not a button for this. The most particular of mankind -concerning what is grossly and contemptuously (if not carnivorously) -spoken of as "horseflesh," forgets his tender feelings towards the -noblest of all animals when his own flesh and blood come into -competition with them. But ride, and lash, and spur as he might, the -old Squire made no discovery. - -His daughter, his only child, in whom all the rest of his old life -lived and loved, was gone and lost; not even leaving knowledge of -where she lay, or surety of a better meeting. His faith in God was -true and firm; for on the whole he was a pious man, although no great -professor: and if it had pleased the Lord to take his only joy from -his old age, he could have tried to bear it. - -But thus to lose her, without good-bye, without even knowing how the -loss befell, and with the deep misery of doubting what she might -herself have done--only a chilly stoic, or a remarkably warm -Christian, could have borne it with resignation. The Squire was -neither of these; but only a simple, kind, and loving-hearted -gentleman; with many faults, and among them, a habit of expecting the -Lord to favour him perpetually. And of this he could not quit himself, -in the deepest tribulation; but still expected all things to be -tempered to his happiness, according to his own ideas of what -happiness should be. The clergyman of the parish, a good and zealous -man, had called upon him, and with many words had proved how thankful -he was bound to be for this kindly-ordered chastisement. The Squire, -however, could not see it. He listened with his old politeness, but a -sad and weary face, and quietly said that the words were good, but he -could not yet enter into them. Hereat the parson withdrew, to wait for -a softer and wiser season. - -And now, in the dusk of this cold dark day, Squire Oglander sat gazing -from the window of his dining-room; with his head fallen back, and his -white chin up, and hard-worn hands clasped languidly. His heavy eyes -dwelled on the dreary snow that buried his daughter's handiwork--the -dwarf plants not to be traced, and the tall ones only as soft -hillocks, like the tufts in a great white counterpane. And more and -more, as the twilight deepened, and the curves of white grew dim, he -kept repeating below his voice, "Her winding-sheet, her winding-sheet; -and her pretty eyes wide open perhaps!" - -"Now, sir, if you please, you must--you must," cried Mary Hookham, his -best maid, trotting in with her thumbs turned back from a right hot -dish, and her lips up as if she were longing to kiss him, to let out -her feelings. "Here be a duster, by way of a cloth, not to scorch the -table against Miss Grace comes home again. Sir, if you please, you -must ate a bit. Not a bit have you aten sin' Toosday, and it is enough -to kill a carrier's horse. 'Take on,' as my mother have often said; -'take on, as you must, if your heart is right, when the hand of the -Lord is upon you; but never take off with your victuals.' And a hearty -good woman my mother is, and have seen much tribulation. You never -would repent, sir, of hearkening to me, and of trying of her, till -such time as poor Miss Grace comes back. And not a penny would she -charge you." - -"Let her come, if she will," he answered, without thinking twice about -it; for he paid no heed to household matters in his present trouble. -"Let her come, if you wish it, Mary. At any rate, she can do no harm." - -"She will do a mort of good, sir. But now do try to ate a bit. My -mother will make you, if you have her, sir." - -The old man did his best to eat; for he knew that he must keep his -strength up, to abide the end of it. And Mary, without asking leave, -lit four good candles, and drew the curtains, and made the fire -cheerful. "All of us has our troubles," said Mary; "but these here -pickles is wonderful." - -"You are a good girl," answered the Squire; "and you deserve a good -husband. Now, if either the man from Oxford or young Mr. Overshute -should come, show them in directly; but I can see no other person. No -more, thank you. Take all away, Mary." - -"Oh my! what a precious little bit you've had! But as sure as my name -is Mary Hookham, you shall have three glasses of port, sir. You don't -keep no butler, because you knows better; and no housekeeper, because -you don't know mother. Likewise, Miss Grace is so clever--but there, -now, if she stay long for her honeymoon, a housekeeper you must have, -sir." - -The master was tempted to ask what she meant, but he scarcely thought -it worth while, perhaps. By pressure of advice from all the womankind -within his doors (whenever they could get hold of him) he had been -sped on many bootless errands, as was natural. For without any ground, -except that of their hearts, all the gentler bosoms of the place were -filled with large belief that this was only a lovely love affair. - -Russel Overshute, the heir of the Overshutes of Shotover, was a young -man who could speak for himself, and did it sometimes too strongly. He -had long been taken prisoner by the sweet spell of Grace Oglander; and -being of a bold and fearless order, he had so avowed himself. But her -father had always been against him; not from personal dislike, but -simply because he could not bear his "wild political sentiments." -Worth Oglander was as staunch an old Tory as ever stood in buckram, -although in social and domestic matters perhaps almost too gentle. -Radical and rascal were upon his tongue the self-same word; and he -passed the salt with the back of his hand to even a mild Reformer. - -And now, as he drank his glass of port, by dint of Mary's management, -and did his best to think about it, as he always used to do, the door -of the room was thrown open strongly, and in strode Russel Overshute. - -"Will you kindly leave the room," he said to the sedulous Mary. "I -wish to say a few words to the Squire of a private nature." - -This young gentleman was a favourite with maid-servants everywhere, -because he always spoke to them "just the same as if they was ladies." -Every housemaid now demands this, in our advanced intelligence; and -doubtless she is right; but forty years ago it was otherwise, and -"Polly, my dear," and a chuck of the chin, were not as yet vile -antiquity. Mary made a bob of the order still taught at the -village-school, and set a glass for the gentleman, and simpered, and -departed. - -"Shake hands with me, Squire," said Overshute, as Mr. Oglander arose, -with cold dignity, and bowed to him. "You have sent for me; I rode -over at once, the moment that I heard of it. I returned from London -this afternoon, having been there for a fortnight. When I heard the -news, I was thunderstruck. What can I do to help you?" - -"I will not shake hands with you," answered the Squire, "until you -have solemnly pledged your honour, that you know nothing of this--of -this--there, I have no word for it!" Mr. Oglander trembled, though his -eyes were stern. His last hope of his daughter's life lay in the young -man before him; and bitterly as he would have felt the treachery of -his only child, and deeply as he despised himself for harbouring such -a suspicion--yet even that disgrace and blow would be better than the -alternative, the only alternative--her death. - -"I should have thought it quite needless," young Overshute answered, -with some disdain, until he observed the father's face, so broken down -with misery; "from any one but you, sir, it would have been an insult. -If you do not know the Overshutes, you ought to know your own -daughter." - -"But against her will--against her will. Say that you took her against -her will. You have been from home. For what else was it? Tell me the -truth, Russel Overshute--only the truth, and I will forgive you." - -"You have nothing to forgive, sir. Upon the word of an Englishman, I -hadn't even heard of it." - -The old man watched his clear keen eyes, with deep tears gathering in -his own. Then Russel took his hand, and led him tenderly to his hard -oak chair. - -For a minute or two not a word was said: the young man doubting what -to say, and the old one really not caring whether he ever spoke again. -At last he looked up and spread both hands, as if he groped forth from -a heavy dream; and the rheumatism from so much night-work caught him -in both shoulder-blades. - -"What is it?--what is it?" he cried. "I have lived a long time in this -wicked world, and I have not found it painful." - -"My dear sir," his visitor answered, pitying him sincerely, and hiding -(like a man) his own deep heart-burn of anxiety, "may I say, without -your being in the least degree offended, what I fancy--or at least, I -mean a thing that has occurred to me? You will take it for its worth. -Most likely you will laugh at it; but taking my chance of that, may I -say it? Will you promise not to be angry?" - -"I wish I could be angry, Russel. What have I to be angry for?" - -"A terrible wrong, if I am right, but not a purely hopeless one. I -have not had time to think it out, because I have been hurried so. -But, right or wrong, what I think is this--the whole is a foul scheme -of Luke Sharp's." - -"Luke Sharp! My own solicitor! The most respectable man in Oxford! -Overshute, you have made me hope, and then you dash me with -balderdash!" - -"Well, sir, I have no evidence at all; but I go by something I heard -in London, which supplies the strongest motive; and I know, from my -own family affairs, what Luke Sharp will do when he has strong motive. -I beg you to keep my guess quite secret. Not that I fear a score of -such fellows, but that he would be ten times craftier if he thought we -suspected him; and he is crafty enough without that, as his principal -client, the Devil, knows!" - -"I will not speak of it," the Squire answered; "such a crotchet is not -worth speaking of, and it might get you into great trouble. With one -thing and another now, I am so knocked about, that I cannot put two -and two together. But one thing really comforts me." - -"My dear sir, I am so glad! What is it?" - -"That a man of your old family, Russel, and at the same time of such -new ways, is still enabled by the grace of God to retain his faith in -the Devil." - -"While Luke Sharp lives I cannot lose it," he answered, with a bitter -smile. "That man is too deep and consummate a villain to be -uninspired. But now, sir, we have no time to lose. You tell me what -you have done, and then I will tell you what I have been thinking of, -unless you are too exhausted." - -For the old man, in spite of fierce anxiety, long suspense, and keen -excitement, began to be so overpowered with downright bodily weariness -that now he could scarcely keep his head from nodding, and his eyes -from closing. The hope which had roused him, when Overshute entered, -was gone, and despair took the place of it; tired body and sad mind -had but a very low heart to work them. Russel, with a strong man's -pity, and the love which must arise between one man and another -whenever small vanity vanishes, watched the creeping shades of slumber -soften the lines of the harrowed face. As evening steals along a -hill-side where the sun has tyrannised, and spreads the withering and -the wearying of the day with gentleness, and brings relief to rugged -points, and breadth of calm to everything; so the Squire's fine old -face relaxed in slumber's halo, and tranquil ease began to settle on -each yielding lineament; when open flew the door of the room, and -Mary, at the top of her voice, exclaimed-- - -"Plaize, sir, Maister Cripps be here." - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -CRIPPS IN AFFLICTION. - - -"Confound that Cripps!" young Overshute cried, with irritation getting -the better of his larger elements; while the Squire slowly awoke and -stared, and rubbed his gray eyelashes, and said that he really was -almost falling off, and he ought to be quite ashamed of himself. Then -he begged his visitor's pardon for bad manners, and asked what the -matter was. "Sir, it is only that fool Cripps," said the young man, -still in vexation, and signing to Mary to go, and to shut the door. -"Some trumpery parcel, of course. They might have let you rest for a -minute or two." - -"No, sir, no; if you plaize, sir, no!" cried Mary, advancing with her -hands up. "Maister Cripps have seen something terrible, and he hath -come straight to his Worship. He be that out of breath that he was -aforced to lay hold of me, before he could stand a'most! He must have -met them sheep-stealers!" - -"Sheep-stealing again!" said Mr. Oglander, who was an active -magistrate. "Well, let him come in. I have troubles of my own; but I -must attend to my duty." - -"Let me attend to it," interposed the other, being also one of the -"great unpaid." "You must not be pestered with such things now. Try to -get some little rest while I attend to this Cripps affair." - -"I am much obliged to you," answered the Squire, rising, and looking -wide-awake; "but I will hear what he has to say myself. Of course, I -shall be too glad of your aid if you are not in a hurry." - -Mr. Overshute knew that this fine old Justice, although so good in the -main, was not entirely free from foibles, of which there was none more -conspicuous than a keen and resolute jealousy if any brother -magistrate dared to meddle with Beckley matters. Therefore Russel for -the time withdrew, but promised to return in half an hour, not only -for the sake of consulting with the Squire, but also because he -suspected that Cripps might be come on an errand different from what -Mary had imagined. - -Meanwhile, the Carrier could hardly be kept from bursting in -head-foremost. Betty, the cook, laid hold of him in the passage, while -he was short of breath; but he pushed at even her, although he ought -to have known better manners. Betty was also in a state of mind at -having cooked no dinner worth speaking of since Tuesday; and Cripps, -if his wits had been about him, must have yielded space and bowed. -Betty, however, was nearly as wide, and a great deal thicker than he -was; and she spread forth two great arms that might have stopped even -Dobbin with a load downhill. - -At last the signal was passed that Cripps might now come on, and tell -his tale; and he felt as if he should have served them right by -refusing to say anything. But when he saw the Squire's jovial face -drawn thin with misery, and his sturdy form unlike itself, and the -soft puzzled manner in lieu of the old distinct demand to know -everything, Zacchary Cripps came forward gently, and thought of what -he had to tell, with fear. - -"What is it, my good fellow?" asked the Squire, perceiving his -hesitation. "Nothing amiss with your household, I sincerely hope, my -friend? You are a fortunate man in one thing--you have had no children -yet." - -"Ay, ay; your Worship is right enough there. The Lord lends they, and -He takes them away. And the taking be worse than the giving was good." - -"Now, Master Cripps, we must not talk so. All is meant for the best, I -doubt." - -"Her may be. Her may be," Cripps replied. "The Lord is the one to -pronounce upon that, knowing His own maning best. But He do give very -hard measure some time to them as have never desarved it. Now, there -be your poor Miss Grace, for instance. As nice a young lady as ever -lived; the purtiest ever come out of a bed; that humble, too, and -gracious always, that 'Cripps,' she would say--nay 'Master -Cripps'--she always give me my proper title, even on a dirty linen -day--'Master Cripps,' her always said, 'let me mark it off, in your -hat, for you'--no matter whether it was my best hat, or the one with -the grease come through--'Master Cripps,' she always say, 'let me mark -it out for you.'" - -"Very well, Cripps. I know all that. It is nothing to what my Grace -was. And I hope, with God's blessing, she will do it again. But what -is it you are so full of, Cripps?" - -The Carrier felt in the crown of his hat, and then inside the lining; -as if he had something entered there, to help him in this predicament. -And then he turned away, to wipe--as if the weather was very wet--the -drops of the hedge from the daze of his eyes; and after that he could -not help himself, but out with everything. - -"I knows where Miss Gracie be," he began with a little defiance, as -if, after all, it was nothing to him, but a thing that he might have a -bet about. "I knows where our Miss Gracie lies--dead and cold--dead -and cold--without no coffin, nor a winding-sheet--the purty crature, -the purty crature--there, what a fool I be, good Lord!" - -Master Cripps, at the picture himself had drawn, was taken with a -short fit of sobs, and turned away, partly to hunt for his "kercher," -and partly to shun the poor Squire's eyes. Mr. Oglander slowly laid -down the pen, which he had taken for notes of a case, and standing as -firm as his own great oak-tree (famous in that neighbourhood), gave no -sign of the shock, except in the colour of his face, and the -brightness of his gaze. - -"Go on, Cripps, as soon as you can," he said in a calm and gentle -voice. "Try not to keep me waiting, Cripps." - -"I be trying; I be trying all I knows. The blessed angel be dead and -buried, close to Tickuss's tatie crop, in the corner of bramble -quarry. At least, I mean Tickuss's taties was there; but he dug them a -fortnight, come Monday, he did." - -"The corner of the 'Gipsy's Grave,' as they call it. Who found it? How -do you know it?" - -"Esther was there. She seed the whole of it. Before the snow -come--last Tuesday night." - -"Tuesday night! Ah, Tuesday night!"--for the moment, the old man had -lost his clearness. "It can't have been Tuesday night--it was -Wednesday when I rode down to my sister's. Cripps, your sister must -have dreamed it. My darling was then at her aunt's, quite safe. You -have frightened me for nothing, Cripps." - -"I am glad with all my heart," cried Zacchary; "I am quite sure it -were Tuesday night, because of Mrs. Exie. And your Worship knows best -of the days, no doubt. Thank the Lord for all His mercies! Well, -seeing now it were somebody else, in no ways particular, and perhaps -one of them gipsy girls as took the fever to Cowley, if your Worship -will take your pen again, I will tell you all as Esther seed:--Two men -with a pickaxe working, where the stone overhangeth so, and the corpse -of a nice young woman laid for the stone to bury it natural. No harm -at all in the world, when you come to think, being nought of a -Christian body. And they let go the rock, and it come down over, to -save all infection. Lord, what a turn that Etty gived me, all about a -trifle!" The Carrier wiped his forehead, and smiled. "And won't I give -it well to her?" - -"Poor girl! It is no trifle, Cripps, whoever it may have been. But -stop--I am all abroad. It was Tuesday afternoon when my poor darling -left Mrs. Fermitage. And to the quarry, across the fields, from the -way she would come, is not half a mile--half a mile of fields and -hedgerows---- Oh, Cripps, it was my daughter!" - -"Her maight a' been, sure enough," said Cripps, in whom the reflective -vein, for the moment, had crossed the sentimental--"sure enough, her -maight a' been. A pasture meadow, and a field of rape, and Gibbs's -turnips, and then a fallow, and then into Tickuss's taties--half an -hour maight a' done the carrying--and consarning of the rest--your -Worship, now when did she leave the lady? Can you count the time of -it?" - -"Zacchary now, the will of the Lord be done, without calculation! My -grave is all I care to count on, if my Grace lies buried so. But -before I go to it, please God, I will find out who has done it!" - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -ALL DEAD AGAINST HIM. - - -"Now, do 'ee put on a muffler, sir," cried Mary, running out with her -arms full, as Mr. Oglander set forth in the bitter air, without -overcoat, but ready to meet everything. At the door was his old -Whitechapel cart, with a fresh young colt between the shafts, pawing -the snow, and snorting; the only one of his little stud not lamed by -rugged travelling. The floor of the cart was jingling with iron tools, -as the young horse shook himself; and the Squire's groom, and two -gardeners, were ready to jump in, when called for. They stamped a -little, and flapped their bodies, as if they would like a cordial; but -their master was too busy with his own heart to remember it. - -"If we be goin' to dig some hours in such weather as this be," Mr. -Kale managed to whisper--"best way put in a good brandy flask, Mary, -my dear, with Master's leave. Poor soul, a' can't heed everything." - -"Go along," answered Mary; "you have had enough. Shamed I be of you, -to think of such things, and to look at that poor Hangel!" - -"So plaize your Worship, let me drive," said Cripps, who was going to -sit in front. "A young horse, and you at your time of life, and all -this trouble over you!" - -"Give me the reins, my friend," cried his Worship; and Cripps, in some -dread for his neck, obeyed. The men jumped in, and the young horse -started at a rather dangerous pace. Many a time had Miss Grace fed -him, and he used to follow her, like a lamb. - -"He will take us safe enough," said the Squire; "he seems to know what -he is going for." - -Not another word was spoken, until they came to the gap at the verge -of the quarry, where the frosty moon shone through it. "Tie him here," -said the master shortly, as the groom produced his ring-rope; "and -throw the big cloth over him. Now, all of you come; and Cripps go -first." - -Scared as they were, they could not in shame decline the old man's -orders; and the sturdy Cripps, with a spade on his shoulders, led -through the drifted thicket. Behind him plodded the Squire, with an -unlit lantern in one hand, and a stout oak staff in the other; the -moonlight glistening in his long white hair, and sparkling frost in -his hoary beard. The snow before them showed no print larger than the -pad of an old dog-fox pursuing the spluttering track of a pheasant's -spurs; and it crunched beneath their boots with the crusty impact of -crisp severance. All around was white and waste with depth of unknown -loneliness; and Master Cripps said for the rest of his life, that he -could not tell what he was about, to do it! - -After many flounderings in and out of hollow places, they came to the -corner of the quarry-dingle, and found it entirely choked with snow. -The driving of the north-east wind had gathered as into a funnel -there, and had stacked the snow of many acres in a hollow of less than -half a rood. The men stopped short, where the gaunt brown fern, and -then the furze, and then the hazels, in rising tier waded out of -sight; and behind them even some ash-saplings scarcely had a knuckled -joint to lift from out their burial. Over the whole the cold moon -shone, and made the depth look deeper. The men stopped short, and -looked at their shovels, and looked at one another. They may not have -been very bright of mind, or accustomed to hurried conclusions; and -doubtless they were, as true Englishmen are, of a tough unelastic -fibre. All powers of evil were banded against them, and they saw no -turn to take; still it was not their own wish to go back, without -having struck a blow for it. - -"You can do nothing," said the Squire, with perhaps the first bitter -feeling he had yet displayed. "All things are dead against me; I must -grin, as you say, and bear it. It would take a whole corps of sappers -and miners a week to clear this place out. We cannot even be sure of -the spot; we cannot tell where the corner is; all is smothered up so. -Ill luck always rides ill luck. This proves beyond doubt that my child -lies here!" - -The men were good men, as men go, and they all felt love and pity for -the lost young lady and the poor old master. Still their fingers were -so blue, and their frozen feet so hard to feel, and the deep white -gulf before them surged so palpably invincible, that they could not -repine at a dispensation which sent them home to their suppers. - -"Nort to be done till change of weather," said Cripps, as they sat in -the cart again; "I reckon they villains knew what was coming, better -nor I, who have kept the road, man and boy, for thirty year. The Lord -knoweth best, as He always do! But to my mind He maneth to kape on -snowing and freezing for a month at laste. Moon have changed last -night, I b'lieve; and a bitter moon we shall have of it." - -And so they did; the bitterest moon, save one, of the present century. -And old men said that there had not been such a winter, and such a -sight of snow, since the one which the Lord had sent on purpose to -discomfit Bony. - -Mr. Oglander, in his lonely home, strove bravely to make the best of -it. He had none of that grand religious consolation which some people -have (especially for others), and he grounded his happiness perhaps -too much upon his own hearthstone. His mind was not an extraordinary -one, and his soul was too old-fashioned to demand periods of purging. - -Moreover, his sister Joan came up--a truly pious and devoted woman, -the widow of an Oxford wine-merchant. Mrs. Fermitage loved her niece -so deeply that she had no patience with any selfish pinings after her. -"She is gone to the better land," she said; "the shores of bliss -unspeakable!--unless Russel Overshute knows about her a great deal -more than he will tell. I have far less confidence in that young man -since he took to wear india-rubber. But to wish her back is a very -sinful and unchristian act, I fear." - -"Now, Joan, you know that you wish her back every time that you sit -down, or get up, or go to tea without her." - -"Yes, I know, I know, I do. And most of all when I pour it out--she -used to do it for me. But, Worth, you can wrestle more than I can. The -Lord expects so much more of a man!" - -Being exhorted thus, the Squire did his best to wrestle. Not that any -words of hers could carry now their former weight; for if he had no -daughter left, what good was money left to her? The Squire did not -want his sister's money for himself at all. Indeed, he would rather be -without it. Dirty money, won by trade!--but still it had been his duty -always to try to get it for his daughter. And this is worth a word or -two. - -At the Oxford bank, and among the lawyers and the leading tradesmen, -it had been a well-known thing that old Fermitage had not died with -less than £150,000 behind him. Even in Oxford there never had been a -man so illustrious for port wine. "Fortiter occupa portum" was the -motto over the door to his vaults, and he fortified port impregnably. -Therefore he supplied all the common-room cellars, which cannot have -too much geropiga; and among the undergraduates his name was surety -for another glass. And there really was a port wine basis; so that -nobody died of him. - -All these things are beside the mark. Mr. Fermitage, however, went on, -and hit his mark continually; and his mark was that bull's eye of this -golden age, a yellow imprint of a dragon. So many of these came -pouring in that he kept them in bottles without any "kicks," sealed, -and left to mature, and acquire "the genuine bottle flavour." When he -had bottled half a pipe of these, and was thinking of beginning now to -store them in the wood, a man coming down with a tap found him dead; -and was too much scared to steal anything. - -This man reproached himself, ever afterwards, for his irresolute -conscience; and the two executors gave him nothing but blame for his -behaviour. People in Holiwell said that these two took a dozen bottles -of guineas between them, to toast their testator's memory; but -Holiwell never has been famous for the holy thing lying at the bottom -of the well. Enough that he was dead; and every man, seeing his -funeral, praised him. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -KNOCKER VERSUS BELL-PULL. - - -There is, or was, a street in Oxford, near the ruins of the ancient -castle, and behind the new county jail, where one of the many offsets -of the Isis filters its artificial way beneath low arches and betwixt -dead walls; and this street (partly destroyed since then) was known to -the elder generation by the name of "Cross Duck Lane." Of course what -remains of it now exults in an infinitely grander title, though -smelling thereby no sweeter. With that we have nothing to do; the -street was "Cross Duck Lane" in our time. - -Here, in a highly respectable house, a truly respectable man was -living, with his business and his family. "Luke Sharp, gentleman," was -his name, description, style, and title; and he was not by any means a -bad man, so as to be an Attorney. - -This man possessed a great deal of influence, having much -house-property; and he never in the least disguised his sentiments, or -played fast and loose with them. Being of a commanding figure, and -fine straightforward aspect, he left an impression, wherever he went, -of honesty, vigour, and manliness. And he went into very good society, -as often as he cared to do so; for although not a native of Oxford, -but of unknown (though clearly large) origin, he now was the head, and -indeed the entirety, of a long-established legal firm. He had married -the daughter of the senior partner, and bought or ousted away the -rest; and although the legend on his plate was still "Piper, Pepper, -Sharp, and Co.," every one knew that the learning, wealth, and honour -of the whole concern were now embodied in Mr. Luke Sharp. Such a man -was under no necessity ever to blow his own trumpet. - -His wife, a fat and goodly person, Miranda Piper of former days, -happened to be the first cousin and nearest relative of a famous -man--"Port-wine Fermitage" himself; and his death had affected her -very sadly. For she found that he had provided for himself a most -precarious future, by unjust disposal of his worldly goods, which he -could not come back to rectify. To his godson, her only child and her -idol, Christopher Fermitage Sharp, he had left a copy of Dr. -Doddridge's "Expositor," and nothing else! A golden work, no -doubt--but still golden precepts fill no purse, but rather tend to -empty it. Mrs. Luke Sharp, though a very good Christian, repacked and -sent back the "Expositor." - -If Mr. Sharp had been at home, he would not have let her do so. He was -full at all times of large generous impulse, but never yet guilty of -impulsive acts. It had always been said that his son was to have the -bottled half-pipe of gold, or the chief body of it, after the widow's -life-interest. Whereas now, Mrs. Fermitage, if she liked, might roll -all the bottles down the High Street. She, however, was a careful -woman; and it was manifest where the whole of this Côte d'Or vintage -would be binned away--to wit, in the cellars of Beckley Barton, with -the key at Grace Oglander's very pretty waist. Mr. Sharp at the moment -could descry no cure; but still to show temper was a vulgar thing. - -Now, upon the New Year's Day of 1838, the bitter weather continuing -still, and doing its best to grow more bitter, Mr. Sharp, being of a -festive turn, had closed his office early. The demand for universal -closing and perpetual holiday had not yet risen to its present height, -and the clerks, though familiar with the kindness of their principal, -scarcely expected such a premature relief. But this only added to the -satisfaction with which they went home to their New Year dinners. - -But Mr. Sharp, though of early habits, and hungry at proper seasons, -was not preparing for his dinner now. He had ordered his turkey to be -kept back, and begged his wife to see to it until he could make out -and settle the import of a letter which reached him about one o'clock. -It had been delivered by a groom on horseback, who had suffered some -inward struggle before he had stooped to ring the Attorney's bell. For -"Cross Duck House," though a comfortable place, was not of an -aristocratic cast. The letter was short, and expounded little. - - "SIR,--I shall do myself the honour of calling upon you at four - o'clock this afternoon, upon some important business. - - "Obediently yours, - - "RUSSEL OVERSHUTE." - -It is not altogether an agreeable thing, even for a man with the -finest conscience, such as Mr. Sharp was blest with, to receive a -challenge upon an unknown point, curtly worded in this wise. And the -pleasure does not increase, when the strong correspondent is partly -suspected of holding unfavourable views towards one, and the gaze of -self-inspection needs a little more time to compose itself. Luke Sharp -had led an unblemished life, since the follies of his youth subsided; -he subscribed to inevitable charities; and he waited for his rents, -when sure of them. Still he did not like that letter. - -Now he took off the coat which he wore at his desk, and his waistcoat -of the morning, and washed his nice white hands, and clothed himself -in expensive dignity. Then he opened his book of daily entries, and -folded blotting-paper, and prepared to receive instructions, or give -advice, or be wise abstractedly. But he thought it a sound precaution -to have his son Christopher within earshot; for young Overshute was -reputed to be of a rather excitable nature; therefore Kit Sharp was -commanded to finish the cleaning of his gun--which was his chief -delight--in his father's closet adjoining the office, and to keep the -door shut, unless called for. - -The lawyer was not kept waiting long. As the clock of St. Thomas -struck four, the shoes of a horse rang sharply on the icy road, and -the office-bell kicked up its tongue, with a jerk showing great -extra-mural energy. "Let him ring again," said Mr. Sharp; "I defy him -to ring much harder." - -The defiance was soon proved to be unsound; for in less than ten -seconds, the bell, which had stood many years of strong emotion, was -visited with such a violent spasm that nothing short of the -melting-pot restored its constitution. A piece clinked on the passage -floor, and the lawyer was filled with unfeigned wrath. That bell had -been ringing for three generations, and was the Palladium of the firm. - -"What clumsy clod-hopper," cried Mr. Sharp, rushing out, as if he saw -nobody--"what beggarly bumpkin has broken my bell? Mr. Overshute!--oh! -I beg pardon, I am sure!" - -"We must make allowance," said Russel calmly, "for fidgety animals, -Mr. Sharp; and for thick gloves in this frosty weather. John, take my -horse on the Seven-bridges road, and be back in exactly fifteen -minutes. How kind of you to be at home, Mr. Sharp!" - -With the words, the young man bestowed on the lawyer a short sharp -glance, which entirely failed to penetrate the latter. - -"Shut out this cold wind, for Heaven's sake!" he exclaimed, as he shut -in his visitor. "You young folk never seem to feel the cold. But you -carry it a little too far sometimes. Ah, I must have been about your -age when we had such another hard winter as this, four and twenty -years ago. Scarcely so bitter, but a deal more snow; snow, snow, six -feet everywhere. I was six and twenty then--about your age, I take it, -sir?" - -"My age to a tittle," said Overshute; "but I am generally taken for -thirty-two. How can you have guessed it so?" - -"Early thought, sir, juvenile thought, and advanced intelligence make -young people look far in front of their age. When you come to my time -of life, young sir, your thoughts and your looks will be younger. Now -take this chair. Never mind your boots; let them hiss as they will on -the fender. I like to hear it--a genial sound--a touch of emery paper -in the morning, and there we are, ready for other boots. I have had -men here come fifty miles across country, as the crow flies, to see -me, when the floods were out; and go away with minds comforted." - -"I have heard of your skill in all legal points. But I am not come on -that account. Quibbles and shuffles I detest." - -"Well, Mr. Overshute, I have met with a good deal of rudeness in my -early days; before I was known, as I am now. It was worth my while to -disarm it then. It is not so now, in your case. You belong to a very -good county family; and although you are committed to inferior hands, -if you had come in a friendly spirit, I would have been glad to serve -you. As it is, I can only request you to say what your purpose is, and -to settle it." - -Russel Overshute, with his large and powerful eyes, gazed straight at -Sharp; and Mr. Sharp (who had steely eyes--the best of all for getting -on with--not very large, but as keen as need be) therewith answered -complacently, and as if he saw hope of amusement. - -"You puzzle me, Sharp," said Overshute--about the worst thing he could -have said; and he knew it before the words had passed. - -"I am called, for the most part, 'Mister Sharp,' except by gentlemen -of my own age, or friends who entirely trust me. Mr. Russel Overshute, -explain how I have puzzled you." - -"Never mind that. You would never understand. Have you any idea what -has brought me here?" - -"Yes, to be plain with you, I have. One of your least, but very oldest -tenants, has been caught out in poaching. You hate the game-laws; you -are a Radical, ranter, and reformer. You know that your lawyer is good -and active, but too well known as a Liberal. It requires a man of -settled principles to contest with the game-laws." - -"You could not be more wide astray!" cried young Overshute -triumphantly, taking in every word the other had said, as a piece of -his victory. "No, no, thank goodness, we are not come so low that we -cannot get off our tenants, in spite of any evidence; you must indeed -think that our family is quite reduced to the dirt, if we can no -longer do even that much." - -"Not at all, sir. You are much too hot. I only supposed for the moment -that your principles might have stopped you." - -"Oh dear, no! My mother could not take it at all, in that way. Now, -where have you put Grace Oglander?" - -Impetuous Russel, with his nostrils quivering, and his eyes fixed on -the lawyer's, and his right hand clenching his heavy whip, purposely -fired his question thus, like a thunderbolt out of pure heaven. He -felt sure of producing a grand effect; and so he did, but not the -right one. - -"You threaten me, do you?" said Mr. Sharp. "I think that you make a -mistake, young man. Violence is objectionable in every way, though -natural with fools, who believe they are the stronger. I am sorry to -have spoiled your whip; but you will acknowledge that the fault was -yours. Now, I am ready for reason--if you are." - -With a grave bow, Luke Sharp offered Russel the fragments of his pet -hunting-crop, which he had caught from his hand, and snapped like a -stick of peppermint, as he spoke. Overshute thought himself a fine, -strong fellow, and with very good reason; but the quickness of his -antagonist left him gasping. - -"I want no apologies," Mr. Sharp continued, going to his desk; while -the young man looked sadly at his brazen-knockered butt, for he had -been at that admirable college, and cherished his chief reminiscence -of it thus. "Apologies are always waste of time. You have threatened -me, and you have found your mistake. Such a formidable antagonist -makes one's hand shake. Still, I think that I can hit my key-hole." - -"You can always make your keys fit, I dare say. But you never could do -that to me again." - -"Very likely not. I shall never care to try it. Physical force is -always low. But, as a gentleman, you must own that you first offered -violence." - -"Mr. Sharp, I confess that I did. Not in word, or deed; but still my -manner fairly imported it. And the first respect I ever felt for you, -I feel now, for your quickness and pluck." - -"I am pleased with any respect from you; because you have little for -anything. Now, repeat your question, moderately." - -"Where have you put Grace Oglander?" - -"Let me offer you a chair again. Striding about with frozen feet is -almost the worst thing a man can do. However, you seem to be a little -excited. Have you brought me a letter from my client, to authorize -this inquiry?" - -"From Mr. Oglander? Oh no! He has no idea of my being here." - -"We will get over that. You are a friend of his, and a neighbour. He -has asked you, in a general way, to help him in this sad great -trouble." - -"Not at all. He would rather not have my interference. He does not -like its motive." - -"And the motive is, that like many other people, you were attached to -this young lady?" - -"Certainly, I am. I would give my life at any moment for her." - -"Well, well; I will not speak quite so strongly as you do. Life grows -dearer as it gets more short. But still, I would give my best year -remaining to get to the bottom of this problem." - -"You would?" cried young Overshute, looking at him, with admiration of -his strength and truth. "Give me your hand, sir? I have wronged you! I -see that I am but a hasty fool!" - -"You should never own that," said the lawyer. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -MR. JOHN SMITH. - - -Meanwhile all Beckley and villages around were seething with a ferment -of excitement and contradiction. Esther Cripps had been strictly -ordered by the authorities to hold her tongue; and so far as in her -lay she did so. But there were others--the Squire's three men, and -even the Carrier himself, who had so many things to think, that they -were pretty sure to say some of them. One or two of them had wives; -and though these women could not be called by their very worst friends -"inquisitive," it was not right and lawful that they should be -debarred of everything. They did all they could not to know any more -than they were really bound to know; and whatever was forced upon them -had no chance of going any further. - -This made several women look at one another slyly, each knowing more -than the other, and nodding while sounding the other's ignorance. -Until, with one accord they grew provoked at being treated so; and -truth being multiplied to its cube became, of course, infinite error. - -Now, Mrs. Fermitage having been obliged to return to Cowley, Mary -Hookham's mother had established her power by this time; and being, as -her daughter had pronounced, a conspicuous member of the females, she -exerted herself about all that was said, and saw the other side of -everything. She never went to no public-house--nobody could say that -of her; but perhaps she could put two and two together every bit as -well as them that did. It had been her fortune to acquire exceptional -experience--or, as she put it more plainly, "she had a seed a many -things;" and the impressions left thereby upon her idiosyncrasy (or, -in her own words, "what she come to think") was and were that nothing -could be true that she had not known the like of. This was the secret -of her success in life--which, however, as yet bore no proportion to -her merits. She frankly scouted as "a pack of stuff" everything to -which her history afforded no vivid parallel. In a word, she believed -only what she had seen. - -Now, incredulity is a grand power. To be able to say, "Oh, don't tell -me," or "None of your stuff!" when the rest of the audience, stricken -with awe, is gaping, confers at once the esteem of superior intellect -and vigour. And when there are good high people, who derive comfort -from the denial, the chances are that the active sceptic does not get -the worst of it. - -Mrs. Hookham plainly declared that Esther's tale was neither more nor -less than a trumpery cock-and-bull story. She would not call it a -parcel of lies, because the poor girl might have dreamed it. Walking -in the snow was no more than walking in one's sleep; she knew that, -from her own experience; and if there had been no snow as yet, that -made her all the more sure to be right; the air was full of it, and of -course it would have more power overhead. Depend upon it, she had seen -a bush, if indeed she did see anything, and being so dazed by the -weather, she had gone and dreamed the rest of it. - -Beckley, on the other hand, having known Esther ever since she toddled -out of her cradle, and knowing her brothers, the carrier, the baker, -and the butcher, and having no experience yet of Mother Hookham's -wisdom, as good as told the latter lady not to be "so bounceable." She -must not come into this parish, and pretend to know more about things -that belonged to it than those who were bred and born there. - -But Mrs. Hookham's opinion was, in one way, very important, however -little weight it carried at the Dusty Anvil. Mr. Oglander himself had -to depend for his food entirely on Mrs. Hookham's efforts; for Betty, -the cook, went purely off her head, after all she had gone through; -and they put her in bed with a little barley-water, and much malt -liquor in a nobler form. And though Mrs. Hookham at her time of life -was reluctant so to demean herself, she found all the rest such a -"Noah's compass," that she roused up the fires of departed youth, and -flourished with the basting-ladle. A clever well-conditioned dame, -with a will of her own, is somebody. - -"Now, sir," she cried, rushing in to the Squire, with a basin of -first-rate ox-tail soup, upon that melancholy New Year's Day, "you -have been out in the snow again! No use denying of it, sir; I can see -it by the chattering of your teeth. I call it a bad, wicked thing to -go on so. Flying in the face of the Lord like that!" - -"You are a most kind and good soul, Mrs. Hookham. But surely you would -not have me sit with my hands crossed, doing nothing." - -"No, no; surely not. Take the spoon in one hand, and the basin in the -other. You owe it to yourself to keep up your strength, and to some -one else as well, good sir." - -"I have no one else now to owe it to," the old man answered, sadly -tucking his napkin into his waistcoat pockets. - -"Yes, you have. You have your Miss Gracie, alive and kicking, as sure -as I be; and with a deal more of life in front of her; though scarce a -week passes but what I takes my regular dose of calumny. Ah, if it had -not been for that, I never could have been twenty year a widow." - -"Don't cry, Mrs. Hookham. I beg you not to cry. You have many good -children to look after; and there still is abundance of calomel. But -why do you talk so about my darling?" - -"Because, sir, please God, I means to see you spend many a happy year -together. Lord have mercy, if I had took for granted every trouble as -come upon me, who could a' tried for to cheat me this day? My -goodness, don't go for to swallow the bones, sir!" - -"To be sure not. No, I was not thinking. Of course there are bones in -every tail." - -"And a heap of bones in them Crippses' tale, sir, as won't go down -with me nohow. Have faith in the mercy of the Lord, sir; and in your -own experience." - -"That is exactly what I try to do. There cannot be any one in the -world so bad as to hurt my Gracie. Mrs. Hookham, you never can have -seen anybody like her. She was so full of life and kindness that -everybody who knew her seemed to have her in their own family. She -never made pretence to be above herself, or any one; and she entered -into everybody's trouble quite as if she had brought it on. She never -asked them any questions, whether it might have been their own fault; -and she gave away all her own money first before she came to me for -more. She was so simple, and so pleasant, and so full of playful -ways--but there, when I think of that, it makes me almost as bad as -you women are. Take out the dish. I am very much obliged to you." - -"Not a bit, sir, not a bit as yet," the brisk dame answered, with -tears on her cheeks. "But before very long, you will own that you was; -when you find every word I say come true. Oh my! How that startled me! -Somebody coming the short way from the fields! That wonderful man, as -is always prowling about, unbeknown to any one. They don't like me in -the village much, civil as I am to all of them. But as sure as six is -half a dozen, that Smith is the one they ought to hate." - -"If he is there, show him in at once," said the Squire, without -further argument; "and let no one come interrupting us." - -This was very hard upon Mrs. Hookham; and she could not help showing -it in her answer. - -"Oh, to be sure, sir! Oh, to be sure not! What is my poor opinion -compared to his? Ah well, it is a fine thing to be a man!" - -The man, for whose sake she was thus cast out, seemed to be of the -same opinion. He walked, and looked, and spoke as if it was indeed a -fine thing to be a man; but the finest of all things to be the man -inside his own cloth and leather. Short and thick of form he was, and -likely to be at close quarters a dangerous antagonist. And the set of -his jaws, and the glance of his eyes, showed that no want of manhood -would at the critical moment disable him. His face was of a strong red -colour, equally spread all over it, as if he lived much in the open -air, and fed well, and enjoyed his food. - -"John Smith, your Worship--John Smith," he said, without troubling -Mrs. Hookham. "I hope I see your Worship better. Don't rise, I beg of -you. May I shut the door? Oh, Mary, your tea is waiting." - -"Mary, indeed!" cried widow Hookham, ungraciously departing; "young -man, address my darter thus!" - -"Now, what have you done, Smith, what have you done?" the old -gentleman asked, stooping over him. "Or have you done nothing at all -as usual? You tell me to have patience every day, and every day I have -less and less." - -"The elements are against us, sir. If the weather had been anything -but what it is, I must have known everything long ago. Stop, sir, -stop; it is no idle excuse, as you seem to fancy. It is not the snow -that I speak of; it is the intense and deadly cold, that keeps all but -the very strong people indoors. How can any man talk when his beard is -frozen? Look, sir!" - -From his short brown beard he took lumps of ice, beginning to thaw in -the warmth of the room, and cast them into the fire to hiss. Mr. -Oglander gazed as if he thought that his visitor took a liberty, but -one that could not matter much. "Go on, sir, with your report," he -said. - -"Well, sir, in this chain of crime," Mr. Smith replied in a sprightly -manner, "we have found one very important link." - -"What is it, Smith? Don't keep me waiting. Don't fear me. I am now -prepared to stand anything whatever." - -"Well, sir, we have discovered, at last, the body of your Worship's -daughter." - -The Squire bowed, and hid his face. By the aid of faith, he had been -hoping against hope, till it came to this. Then he looked up, with his -bright old eyes for the moment very steady, and said with a firm -though hollow voice-- - -"The will of the Lord be done! The will of the Lord be done, Smith." - -"The will of the Lord shall not be done," cried Mr. Smith -emphatically, and striking his thick knees with his fist, "until the -man who has done it shall be swung, Squire, swung! Make up your mind -to that, your Worship. You may safely make up your mind to that." - -"What good will it do me?" the father asked, talking with himself -alone. "Will it ever bring back my girl--my child? Bereaved I am, but -it cannot be long! I shall meet her in a better world, Smith." - -"To be sure your Worship will, with the angels and archangels. But to -my mind that will be no satisfaction, till the man has swung for it." - -"Excuse me for a moment, will you, Mr. Smith, excuse me? I have no -right to be overcome, and I thought I had got beyond all that. Ring -the bell, and they will bring you cold sirloin and a jug of ale. Help -yourself, and don't mind me. I will come back directly. No, thank you; -I can walk alone. How many have had much worse to bear! You will find -the under-cut the best." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -MR. SMITH IS ACTIVE. - - -Mr. John Smith was a little upset at seeing the Squire so put out. But -he said to himself: "It is natural--after all, it is natural. Poor old -chap! he has taken it as well as could be expected. However, we must -all live; and I feel uncommonly peckish just now. I declare I would -rather have had something hot, this weather. But in such a case, one -must put up with things. I wonder if they have got any horseradish. -All frozen hard in the ground, I fear--no harm, at any rate, in -asking." - -With this self-commune he rang the bell; and Mary, by her mother's -order, answered. "I'll not go nigh the baste!" cried widow Hookham, -still indignant. Mary, like a good maid, laid the cloth without a -syllable, and, like a good young woman, took the keenest heed of Mr. -Smith, without letting him dream that she peeped at him. - -"Thank you, Mary," said Mr. Smith, to open conversation. - -"My mother's name is Mary," she answered, "and perhaps you would like -some pickles." - -"By all means, as there is no horseradish. Bring onions, gherkins, and -walnuts, Mary. But above all things, walnuts." - -"You must have what you can get," said Mary. "I will go and tell -master what you require." - -"On no account, Mary; on no account! He is gone away to pray, I -believe. On no account disturb him." - -"Poor dear, I should hope not. Perhaps you can manage with what I have -set before you." - -"I will do my best," he answered. - -"The scum of the earth!" said Mary to herself; good servants being the -most intensely aristocratic of all the world. - -"He never dined at a gentleman's table before, and his head is turned -with it. Our kitchen is too good for him. But poor master never heeds -nothing now." - -As soon, however, as Mr. Smith had appeased the rage of hunger, and -having called for a glass of hot brandy and water, was clinking the -spoon in it, the Squire showed that he did heed something, by coming -back calmly to talk with him. Mr. Oglander had passed the bitterest -hour of his long life yet; filled at every turn of thought with -yearning to break down and weep. Sometimes his mind was so confused -that he did not know how old he was, but seemed to be in the long past -days, with his loving wife upon his arm, and their Gracie toddling in -front of them. He spoke to them both as he used to do, and speaking -cleared his thoughts again; and he shook away the dreamy joy in the -blank forlorn of facts. At last he washed his face, and brushed his -silver hair and untended beard, and half in the looking-glass expected -to see his daughter scolding him, because he knew that he had -neglected many things she insisted on; and his conscience caught him -when he seemed to be taking a low advantage. - -"I hope you have been treated well," he said, with his fine -old-fashioned bow, to Smith, as he came back again. "I do not often -leave my guests to attend to themselves in this way." - -"Don't apologize, Squire, I beg you. I have done first chop, I assure -you, sir. I have not tasted real mustard, ground at home as yours is, -since I was up in Durham county, where they never grow it." - -"Well, Mr. Smith," said the Squire, trying to smile at his -facetiousness, "I am very glad that you have done well. In weather -like this, a young man like you must want a good deal of nourishment. -But now, will you--will you tell me----" - -"Yes, your Worship, everything! Of course you are anxious; and I -thoroughly enter into your feelings. There are none of the women at -the door, I hope?" - -"Such things do not happen in my house. I will not interrupt you." - -"Very well, sir; then sit down here. You must be aware in the first -place, then, that I was not likely to be content with your way of -regarding things. The Lord is the Lord of the weather, of course, and -does it without consulting us. Nevertheless, He allows us also to do -our best against it. So I took the bull by the horns, as John Bull, by -his name, has a right to do. I just resolved to beat the weather, and -have it out with everything. So I communicated with the authorities in -London. You know we are in a transition state--a transition state at -present, sir--between the old system and the new." - -"Yes, yes, of course I know all that." - -"Very well, your Worship, we are obliged, of course, to be doubly -careful. In London, we are quite established; but down here, we must -feel our way. The magistrates, saving your Worship's presence, look -upon us with dislike, as if we were superseding them. That will wear -off, your Worship, and the new system will work wonders." - -"Yes, so you all say. But now, be quick. What wonders have you -wrought, John Smith?" - -"Well, I was going to tell your Worship when you interrupted me. You -know that story of Cripps, the Carrier, and his sister--what's her -name? Well, some folk believed it, and some bereaved it. I did neither -of the two, but resolved to get to the bottom of it. Your Worship was -afraid, you remember--well, then, let us say daunted, sir--or, if you -will not have that, we may say, that you trusted in Providence." - -"It was not quite that; but still, Mr. Smith----" - -"Your Worship will excuse me. Things of that sort happen always, and -the people are always wrong that do it. I trusted in Providence once -myself, but now I trust twice in my own self first and leave -Providence to come after me. Ha, ha! I speak my mind. No offence, your -Worship. Well then, this was what I did. A brave regiment of soldiers -having newly returned from India, was ordered to march from London to -the Land's End for change of temperature. They had not been supplied, -of course, with any change of clothes for climate, and they felt it a -little, but were exhorted not to be too particular. Two companies were -to be billeted at Abingdon last evening; and having, of course, -received notice of that, I procured authority to use them. They -shivered so that they wanted work; and there is nothing, your Worship, -like discipline." - -"Of course, I know that from my early days. Will you tell your story -speedily?" - -"Sir, that is just what I am doing. I brought them without many words -to the quarry, where ten times the number of our clodhoppers would -only have shovelled at one another. Bless my heart! they did work, and -with order and arrangement. Being clothed all in cotton, they had no -time to lose, unless they meant to get frozen; and it was a fine -sight, I assure your Worship, to see how they showed their -shoulder-blades, being skinny from that hot climate, and their -brown-freckled arms in the white of the drift, and the Indian steam -coming out of them! In about two hours all the ground was clear, and -the trees put away, like basket-work; and then we could see what had -happened exactly, and even the mark of the pickaxes. Every word of -that girl was proved true to a tittle! I never heard finer evidence. -We can even see that two men had been at work, and the stroke of their -tools was different. You may trust me for getting up a case; but I see -that you have no patience, Squire. We shovelled away all the fallen -rock, and mould, and stumps, and furze-roots; and, at last, we came to -the poor, poor innocent body, as fresh as the daylight!" - -"I can hear no more! You have lost no child--if you have, perhaps you -could spare it. Tell me nothing--nothing more! But prove that it was -my child!" - -"Lord a' mercy, your Worship! Why, you are only fit to go to bed! -Here, Mary! Mary! Mother Hookham! Curse the bell--I have broken it! -Your master is taken very queer! Look alive, woman! Stir your stumps! -A pot of hot water and a foot-tub! Don't get scared--he will be all -right. I always carry a fleam with me. I can bleed him as well as any -doctor. Hold his head up. Let me feel. Oh, he is not going to die just -yet! Stop your caterwauling! There, I have relieved his veins. He will -know us all in a minute again. He ought to have had a deal more -spirit. I never could have expected this. I smoothed off everything so -nicely--just as if it was a lady----" - -"Did you, indeed! I have heard every word," said widow Hookham -sternly. "You locked the door, or I would have had my ten nails in you -long ago! Poor dear! What is a scum like you? And after all, what have -you done, John Smith?" - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -SO IS MR. SHARP. - - -On the very next day it was known throughout the parish and the -neighbourhood that the ancient Squire had broken down at last, under -the weight of anxieties. Nobody blamed him much for this, except his -own sister and Mr. Smith. Mrs. Fermitage said that he ought to have -shown more faith and resignation; and John Smith declared that all his -plans were thrown out by this stupidity. What proper inquiry could be -held, when the universal desire was to spare the feelings and respect -the affliction of a poor old man? - -Mr. Smith was right. An inquest truly must be held upon the body which -had been found by the soldiers. But the Coroner, being a good old -friend and admirer of the Oglanders, contrived that the matter should -be a mere form, and the verdict an open nullity. Mr. Luke Sharp -appeared, and in a dignified reserve was ready to represent the -family. He said a few words, in the very best taste, and scarcely -dared to hint at things which must be painful to everybody left alive -to think of them. How the crush of tons of rock upon an unprotected -female form had made it impossible to say--and how all the hair (which -more than any other human gift survived the sad, sad change), having -been cut off, was there no longer--and how there was really nothing -except a pair of not over new silk stockings, belonging to a lady of -lofty position in the county, and the widow of an eminent gentleman, -but not required, he might hope, to present herself so painfully. Mr. -Sharp could say no more; and the jury felt that he now must come, or, -failing him, his son, Kit Sharp, into the £150,000 of "Port-wine -Fermitage." - -Therefore they returned the verdict carried in his pocket by them, -"Death by misadventure of a young lady, name unknown." Their object -was to satisfy the Squire and their consciences; and they found it -wise, as it generally is, not to be too particular. And the Coroner -was the last man to make any fuss about anything. - -"Are you satisfied now, Mr. Overshute?" asked Lawyer Sharp, as Russel -met him in the passage of the Quarry Arms, where the inquest had been -taken. "The jury have done their best, at once to meet the facts of -the case, and respect the feelings of the family." - -"Satisfied! How can I be? Such a hocus-pocus I never knew. It is not -for me to interfere, while things are in this wretched state. -Everybody knows what an inquest is. No doubt you have done your duty, -and acted according to your instructions. Come in here, where we can -speak privately." - -Mr. Sharp did not look quite as if he desired a private interview. -However, he followed the young man with the best grace he could -muster. - -"I am going to speak quite calmly, and have no whip now for you to -snap," said Russel, sitting down, as soon as he had set a chair for -Mr. Sharp; "but may I ask you why you have done your utmost to prevent -what seemed, to an ordinary mind, the first and most essential thing?" - -"The identification? Yes, of course. Will you come and satisfy -yourself? The key of the room is in my pocket." - -"I cannot do it. I cannot do it," answered the young man, shuddering. -"My last recollection must not be----" - -"Young sir, I respect your feelings. And need I ask you, after that, -whether I have done amiss in sparing the feelings of the family? And -there is something more important than even that at stake just now. -You know the poor Squire's sad condition. The poor old gentleman is -pretty well broken down at last, I fear. What else could we expect of -him? And the doctor his sister had brought from London says that his -life hangs positively upon a thread of hope. Therefore we are telling -him sad stories, or rather, I ought to say, happy stories; and though -he is too sharp to swallow them all, they do him good, sir--they do -him good." - -"I can quite understand it. But how does that bear--I mean you could -have misled him surely about the result of this inquest?" - -"By no means. He would have insisted on seeing a copy of _The Herald_. -In fact, if the jury could not have been managed, I had arranged with -the editor to print a special copy giving the verdict as we wanted it. -A pious fraud, of course; and so it is better to dispense with it. -This verdict will set him up again upon his poor old legs, I hope. He -seemed to dread the final blow so, and the bandying to and fro of his -unfortunate daughter's name. I scarcely see why it should be so; but -so it is, Mr. Overshute." - -"Of course it is. How can you doubt it? How can it be otherwise? You -can have no good blood in you--I beg your pardon, I speak rashly; but -I did not mean to speak rudely. All I mean to say is that you need no -more explain yourself. I seem to be always doubting you; and it always -shows what a fool I am." - -"Now, don't say that," Mr. Luke Sharp answered, with a fine and genial -smile. "You are acknowledged to be the most rising member of the -County Bench. But still, sir, still there is such a thing as going too -far with acuteness, sir. You may not perceive it yet; but when you -come to my age, you will own it." - -"Truly. But who can be too suspicious, when such things are done as -these? I tell you, Sharp, that I would give my head off my shoulders, -this very instant, to know who has done this damned villainy!--this -infernal--unnatural wrong, to my darling--to my darling!" - -"Mr. Overshute, how can we tell that any wrong has been done to her?" - -"No wrong to take her life! No wrong to cut off all her lovely hair, -and to send it to her father! No wrong to leave us as we are, with -nothing now to care for! You spoke like a sensible man just now--oh, -don't think that I am excitable." - -"Well, how can I think otherwise? But do me the justice to remember -that I do not for one moment assert what everybody takes for granted. -It seems too probable, and it cannot for the present at least be -disproved, that here we have the sad finale of the poor young lady. -But it must be borne in mind that, on the other hand, the body----" - -"The thing could be settled in two minutes--Sharp, I have no patience -with you!" - -"So it appears; and, making due allowance, I am not vexed with you. -You mean, of course, the interior garments, the nether clothing, and -so on. There is not a clue afforded there. We have found no name on -anything. The features and form, as I need not tell you----" - -"I cannot bear to hear of that. Has any old servant of the family; has -the family doctor----" - -"All those measures were taken, of course. We had the two oldest -servants. But the one was flurried out of her wits, and the other -three-quarters frozen. And you know what a fellow old Splinters is, -the crustiest of the crusty. He took it in bitter dudgeon that Sir -Anthony had been sent for to see the poor old Squire. And all he would -say was, 'Yes, yes, yes; you had better send for Sir Anthony. Perhaps -he could bring--oh, of course he could bring--my poor little pet to -life again!' Then we tried her aunt, Mrs. Fermitage, one of the last -who had seen her living. But bless you, my dear sir, a team of horses -would not have lugged her into the room. She cried, and shrieked, and -fainted away." - -"'Barbarous creatures!' she said, 'you will have to hold another -inquest, if you are so unmanly. I could not even see my dear husband,' -and then she fell into hysterics, and we had to send two miles for -brandy. Now, sir, have we anything more to do? Shall we send a litter -or a coffin for the Squire himself?" - -"You are inclined to be sarcastic. But you have taken a great deal -upon yourself. You seem to have ordered everything. Mr. Luke Sharp -everywhere!" - -"Will you tell me who else there was to do it? It has not been a very -pleasant task, and certainly not a profitable one. I shall reap the -usual reward--to be called a busybody by every one. But that is a -trifle. Now, if there is anything you can suggest, Mr. Overshute, it -shall be done at once. Take time to think. I feel a little tired and -in need of rest. There has been so much to think of. You should have -come to help us sooner. But, no doubt, you felt a sort of delicacy -about it. The worthy jurymen's feet at last have ceased to rattle in -the passage. My horse will not be here just yet. You will not think me -rude, if I snatch a little rest, while you consider. For three nights -I have had no sleep. Have I your good permission, sir? Here is the key -of that room, meanwhile." - -Russel Overshute was surprised to see Mr. Sharp draw forth a large -silk handkerchief, with spots of white upon a yellow ground, and -spread it carefully over the crown of his long, deep head, and around -his temples down to the fine grey eyebrows. Then lifting gaitered -heels upon the flat wide bar of the iron fender--the weather being as -cold as ever--in less than a minute Mr. Luke Sharp was asleep beyond -all contradiction. He slept the sleep of the just, with that gentle -whisper of a snore which Aristotle hints at to prove that virtue -being, as she must be, in the mean, doth in the neutral third of life -maintain a middle course between loud snore and silent slumber. - -If Mr. Sharp had striven hard to produce a powerful effect, young -Overshute might have suspected him; but this calm, good sleep and pure -sense of rest laid him open for all the world to take a larger view of -him. No bad man could sleep like that. No narrow-minded man could be -so wide to nature's noblest power. Only a fine and genial soul could -sweetly thus resign itself. The soft content of well-earned repose -spoke volumes in calm silence. Here was a good man (if ever there was -one), at peace with his conscience, the world, and heaven! - -Overshute was enabled thus to look at things more loftily;--to judge a -man as he should be judged, when he challenges no verdict;--to see -that there are large points of view, which we lose by worldly wisdom, -and by little peeps through selfish holes, too one-eyed and -ungenerous. Overshute could not bear the idea of any illiberality. He -hated suspicion in anybody, unless it were just; as his own should be. -In this condition of mind he pondered, while the honest lawyer slept. -And he could not think of anything neglected, or mismanaged much, in -the present helpless state of things. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -A SPOTTED DOG. - - -When at last the frost broke up, and streams began to run again, and -everywhere the earth was glad that men should see her face once more; -and forest-trees, and roadside pollards, and bushes of the common -hedgerow, straightened their unburdened backs, and stood for spring to -look at them; a beautiful young maiden came as far as she could come, -and sighed; as if the beauty of the land awaking was a grief to her. - -This pretty lady, in the young moss-bud, and slender-necked chalice of -innocence, was laden with dews of sorrow, such as nature, in her outer -dealings with the more material world, defers until autumnal night and -russet hours are waiting. Scarcely in full bloom of youth, but ripe -for blush or dreaminess, she felt the power of early spring, and the -budding hope around her. - -"Am I to be a prisoner always, ever more a prisoner?" she said, as she -touched a willow catkin, the earliest of all, the silver one. She -stroked the delicate silken tassel, doubtful of its prudence yet; and -she looked for leaves, but none there were, and nothing to hold -commune. - -The feeble sun seemed well content to have a mere glimpse of the earth -again, and spread his glances diffidently, as if he expected shadow. -Nevertheless, there he was at last; and the world received him -tenderly. - -"It has been such a long, long time. It seems to grow longer, as the -days draw out, and nobody comes to talk to me. My place it is to obey, -of course--but still, but still--there he is again!" - -The girl drew back; for a fine young man, in a grand new velvet -shooting-coat, wearing also a long shawl waistcoat and good buck-skin -breeches, which (combined with calf-skin gaiters) set off his legs to -the uttermost,--in all this picturesque apparel, and swinging a gun -right gallantly, there he was, and no mistake! He was quietly trying -through the covert, without any beaters, but with a brace of clever -spaniels, for woodcock, snipe, or rabbit perhaps; the season for game -being over. A tall, well-made, and rather nice young man (so far as a -bashful girl might guess) he seemed at this third view of him; and of -course it would be an exceedingly rude and pointed thing to run away. -Needless, also, and indeed absurd; because she was sure that when last -they met, he was frightened much more than she was. It was nothing -less than a duty now, to find out whether he had recovered himself. If -he had done so, it would be as well to frighten him even more this -time. And if he had not, it would only be fair to see what could be -done for him. - -One of his dogs--a "cocking spannel," as the great Mr. Looker -warranted--a good young bitch, with liver-coloured spots, and drop -ears torn by brambles, and eyes full of brownish yellow light, ran up -to the girl confidentially, and wagged a brief tail, and sniffed a -little, and with sound discretion gazed. Each black nostril was like a -mark of panting interrogation, and one ear was tucked up like a small -tunnel, and the eye that belonged to it blinked with acumen. - -"You pretty dear, come and let me pat you," the young lady cried, -looking down at the dog, as if there were nobody else in the world. -"Oh, I am so fond of dogs--what is your name? Come and tell me, -darling." - -"Her name is 'Grace,'" said the master, advancing in a bashful but not -clumsy way. "The most beautiful name in the world, I think." - -"Oh, do you think so, Mr.---- but I beg your pardon, you have not told -me what your own name is, I think." - -"I hope you are quite well," he answered, turning his gun away -carefully; "quite well this fine afternoon. How beautiful it is to see -the sun, and all the things coming back again so!" - -"Oh yes! and the lovely willow-trees! I never noticed them so before. -I had no idea that they did all this." She was stroking the flossiness -as she spoke. - -"Neither had I," said the young man, trying to be most agreeable, and -glancing shyly at the haze of silver in lily fingers glistening; "but -do not you think that they do it because--because they can scarcely -help themselves?" - -"No! how can you be so stupid? Excuse me--I did not mean that, I am -sure. But they do it because it is their nature; and they like to do -it." - -"You know them, no doubt; and you understand them, because you are -like them." - -He was frightened as soon as he had said this; which he thought (while -he uttered it) rather good. - -"I am really astonished," the fair maid said, with the gleam of a -smile in her lively eyes, but her bright lips very steadfast, "to be -compared to a willow-tree. I thought that a willow meant--but never -mind, I am glad to be like a willow." - -"Oh no! oh no! You are not one bit--I am sure you will never be like a -willow. What could I have been thinking of?" - -"No harm whatever, I am sure of that," she answered, with so sweet a -look, that he stopped from scraping the toe of his boot on a clump of -moss; and in his heart was wholly taken up with her--"I am sure that -you meant to be very polite." - -"More than that--a great deal more than that--oh, ever so much more -than that!" - -She let him look at her for a moment, because he had something that he -wanted to express. And she, from pure natural curiosity, would have -been glad to know what it was. And so their eyes dwelt upon one -another just long enough for each to be almost ashamed of leaving off; -and in that short time they seemed to be pleased with one another's -nature. The youth was the first to look away; because he feared that -he might be rude; whereas a maiden cannot be rude. With the speed of a -glance she knew all that, and she blushed at the colour these things -were taking. "I am sure that I ought to go," she said. - -"And so ought I, long and long ago. I am sure I cannot tell why I -stop. If you were to get into any trouble----" - -"You are very kind. You need not be anxious. If you do not know why -you stop--the sooner you run away at full speed the better." - -"Oh, I hope you won't say that," he replied, being gifted by nature -with powers of courting, which only wanted practice. "I really think -that you scarcely ought to say so unkind a thing as that." - -"Very well, then. May I say this, that you have important things to -attend to, and that it looks--indeed it does--as if it was coming on -to rain?" - -"I assure you there is no fear of that--although, if it did, there is -plenty of shelter. But look at the sun--how it shines in your hair! -Oh, why do you keep your hair so short? It looks as if it ought to be -ten feet long." - -"Well, suppose that it was--not quite ten feet, for that would be -rather hard to manage--but say only half that length, and then for a -very good reason was all cut off--but that is altogether another -thing, and in no way can concern you. I give you a very good day, -sir." - -"No, no! you will give me a very bad day, if you hurry away so -suddenly. I am anxious to know a great deal more about you. Why do you -live in this lonely place, quite as if you were imprisoned here? And -what makes you look so unhappy sometimes, although your nature is so -bright? There! what a brute I am! I have made you cry. I ought to -shoot myself." - -"You must not talk of such wicked things. I am not crying; I am very -happy--at least, I mean quite happy enough. Good-bye! or I never shall -bear you again." - -As she turned away, without looking at him, he saw that her pure young -breast was filled with a grief he must not intrude upon. And at the -same moment he caught a glimpse through the trees of some one coming. -So he lifted his smart Glengarry cap, and in sad perplexity strode -away. But over his shoulder he softly said--"I shall come again--you -must let me do that--I am sure that I can help you." - -The young lady made no answer; but turned as soon as she thought he -was out of sight, and wistfully looked after him. - -"Here comes that Miss Patch, of course," she said. "I wonder whether -she has spied him out. Her eyes are always everywhere." - -"Oh, my darling child," cried Miss Patch, an elderly lady of great -dignity; "I had no idea you were gone so far. Come in, I beg of you, -come this moment; what has excited you like this?" - -"Nothing at all. At least, I mean, I am not in the least excited. Oh! -look at the beautiful sunset!" - -Miss Patch, with deep gravity, took out her spectacles, placed them on -her fine Roman nose, and gazed eastward to watch the sunset. - -"Oh dear no! not there," cried her charge in a hurry; "here, it is all -in this direction." - -"I thought that I saw a spotted dog," the lady answered, still gazing -steadily down the side of the forest by which the youth had made his -exit; "a spotted dog, Grace, I am almost sure." - -"Yes, I dare say. I believe that there is a dog with some spots in the -neighbourhood." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -A GRAND SMOCK-FROCK. - - -Upon the Saturday after this, being market-day at Oxford, Zacchary -Cripps was in and out with the places and the people, as busy as the -best of them. The number of things that he had to do used to set his -poor brain buzzing; until he went into the Bar--not the grand one, but -the Hostler's Bar, at the Golden Cross--and left dry froth at the -bottom of a pewter quart measure of find old ale. At this flitting -trace of exhaustion he always gazed for a moment as if he longed to -behold just such another, and then, with a sigh of self-dedication to -all the great duties before him, out he pulled his leather bag, and -counted fourpence four times over (without any multiplication thereof, -but a desire to have less subtraction), and then he generally shook -his head, in penitence at his own love of good ale, and the fugitive -fate of the passion. The last step was to deposit his fourpence firmly -upon the metal counter, challenging all the bad pence and half-pence -pilloried there as a warning; and then with a glance at the barmaid -Sally, to encourage her still to hope for him, away went Cripps to the -duties of the day. - -These always took him to the market first, a crowded and very narrow -quarter then, where he always had a great host of commissions, at very -small figures, to execute. His honesty was so broadly known that it -was become quite an onerous gift, as happens in much higher grades of -life. Folk, all along both his roads of travel, naturally took great -advantage of it; being certain that he would spend their money quite -as gingerly as his own, and charge them no more than he was compelled -by honesty towards himself to charge. - -Farmers, butchers, poulterers, hucksters, chandlers, and -grocers--black, yellow, and green--all knew Zacchary Cripps, and paid -him the compliment of asking fifty per cent. above what they meant, or -even hoped to take. Of this the Carrier was well aware, and upon the -whole it pleased him. The triumph each time of rubbing down, by -friction of tongue and chafe of spirit, eighteen-pence into a -shilling, although it might be but a matter of course, never lost any -of its charms for him. His brisk eyes sparkled as he pulled off his -hat, and made the most learned annotations there--if learning is (as -generally happens) the knowledge of what nobody else can read. - -But now, before he had filled the great leathern apron of his -capacities--which being full, his hat had no room for any further -entries--a thing came to pass which startled him; so far at least as -the road and the world had left him the power of starting. He saw his -own brother, Leviticus, standing in friendly talk with a rabbit-man; a -man whose reputation was not at a hopeless distance beyond reproach; a -man who had been three times in prison--whether he ought or ought not -to have been, this is a difficult point to debate. His friends -contended that he ought not--if so, he of course was wrong to go -there. His enemies vowed that he ought to be there--if so, he could -rightly be nowhere else. The man got the benefit of both opinions, in -a powerfully negative condition of confidence on the part of the human -brotherhood. But for all that, there were bigger rogues to be found in -Oxford. - -Cripps, however, as the head of the family, having seigneurial rights -by birth--as well as, in his own opinion, force of superior -intellect--saw, and at once discharged, his duty. No taint of poached -rabbits must lie, for a moment, on the straightforward path of the -Crippses. Zacchary, therefore, held up one hand, as a warning to -Tickuss to say no more, until he could get at him--for just at this -moment a dead lock arose, through a fight of four women about a rotten -egg--but when that had lapsed into hysterics, the Carrier struggled to -his brother's elbow. - -Leviticus Cripps was a large, ruddy man, half a head taller than the -heir of the house, but not so well built for carrying boxes. His frame -was at the broadest and thickest of itself at that very important part -of the human system which has to do with aliment. But inasmuch as all -parts do that, more or less directly, accuracy would specify (if -allowable) his stomach. Here he was well developed; but narrowed or -sloped towards less essential points; whereas the Carrier was at his -greatest across and around the shoulders. A keen physiologist would -refer this palpable distinction to their respective occupations. The -one fed pigs and fed upon them, and therefore required this local -enlargement for sympathy, and for assimilation. The other bore the -burden of good things for the benefit of others; which is anything but -fattening. - -Be that as it will, they differed thus; and they differed still more -in countenance. Zacchary had a bright open face, with a short nose of -brave and comely cock, a mouth large, pleasant, and mild as a cow's, a -strong square forehead, and blue eyes of great vivacity, and some -humour. He had true Cripps' hair, like a horn-beam hedge in the month -of January; and a thick curly beard of good hay colour, shaven into -three scollops like a clover leaf. His manner of standing, and -speaking, and looking was sturdy, and plain, and resolute; and he -stuck out his elbows, and set his knuckles on his hips, whenever both -hands were empty. - -On the contrary, Tickuss, his brother, looked at every one, and at all -times, rather as if he were being suspected. Wrongly suspected, of -course, and puzzled to tell at all why it should be so; and as a -general rule, a little surly at such injustice. The expression of his -face was heavy, slow-witted, and shyly inquisitive; his hair was -black, and his eyes of a muddy brown with small slippery pupils; and -he kept his legs in a fidgety state, as if prone to be wanted for -running away. In stature, however, and weight this man was certainly -above the average; and he would rather do a good than a bad thing, -whenever the motives were equivalent. - -But if his soul could not always walk in spotless raiment, his body at -least was clad in the garb of innocence. No man in Oxford market wore -a smock that could be compared with his. For on such great occasions -Leviticus came in a noble shepherd's smock, long and flowing around -him well, a triumph of mind in design and construction, and a marvel -of hand in fine stitching and plaiting, goffering, crimping, and -ironing. The broad turned-over collar was like a snow-drift tattooed -by fairies, the sleeves were gathered in as religiously as a bishop's -gossamer; and the front was four-square with cunning work; a span was -the length, and a span the breadth, like the breastplate over the -ephod. As for Tickuss himself, he cared no more than the wool of a pig -for such trifles; beyond this, that he liked to have his neighbours -looking up to, and the women looking after, him. Even in the new -unsullied sanctity of this chasuble, he would grasp by the tail an -Irish pig, if sore occasion befell them both. It was Mrs. Leviticus -who adorned him (after a sea of soap-suds and many irons tested -ejectively) with this magnificent vesture, suggested to feminine -capacity, perhaps, in the days of the Tabernacle. - -"Leviticus," said Zacchary sternly, leading him down a wet red alley, -peopled only with cooped chicks, and paved with unsaleable giblets; -"Leviticus, what be thou doing, this day? Many queer things have I -seed of thee--but to beat this here--never nothing!" - -"I dunno what dost mean," Tickuss answered unsteadily. - -"Now, I call that a lie," said the Carrier firmly but mildly, as if -well used thereto; as a dog is to fleas in the summer time. - -"A might be; and yet again a might not," Tickuss replied, with keen -sense of logic, but none of impeached ethics. - -"Do 'ee know, or do 'ee not?"--the ruthless Carrier pressed him--"that -there hosebird have a been in jail?" - -"Now, I do believe; let me call to mind"--said Tickuss, with his -duller eyes at bay--"that I did hear summat as come nigh that. But, -Lord bless you, the best of men goes to jail sometimes! Do you call to -mind old Squire Dempster----" - -"Naught to do wi' it! naught to do wi' it?" Zacchary cried, with a -crack of his thumb. "That were an old gentleman's misfortune; the same -as Saint Paul and Saint Peter did once. But that hosebird I see you -talking along of, have been in jail three times--three times I tell -'ee--and no miracle. And if ever I sees you dealing with him----" he -closed his sentence emphatically, by shaking his fist in the immediate -neighbourhood of his brother's retiring nose. - -"Well, well! no need to take on so, Zak," cried the bigger man at safe -distance; "you might bear in mind that I has my troubles, and no -covered cart at the tail of me. And a family, Zak, as wears out more -boots than a tanyard a week could make good to 'em. But there, I never -finds anybody gifted with no consideration. Why, if I was to talk till -to-morrow night----" - -"If you was to talk to next Leap-year's day, you could not fetch right -out of wrong, Tickuss. And you know pretty well what I be. Now, what -was you doing of with that black George? Mind, no lies won't go down -with me." - -"Best way go and get him to tell 'ee," the younger brother answered -sulkily. "It will do 'ee good like, to get it out of he." - -"No harm to try," answered Cripps with alacrity; "no fear for me to be -seen along of un; only for the likes of you, Tickuss." - -The Carrier set off, to stake his higher repute against lowest -communications; but his brother, with no "heed of smock or of crock," -took three long strides and stopped him. - -"Hearken me, hearken me, Zak!" he cried, with a start at a cock that -crowed at him, and his face like the wattles of chanticleer--"Zak, for -the sake of the Lord in heaven, and of my seven little ones,--stop a -bit!" - -"I bain't in no hurry that I know on," replied the Cripps of pure -conscience; "you told me to ask of him, and I were a-goin' on the wag -to do so." - -"Come out into the Turl, Zak; come out into the Turl a minute; there -is nobody there now. They young College-boys be all at their lessons, -or hunting. There is no place to come near the Turl for a talk, when -they noisy College chaps are gone." - -By a narrow back lane they got into the Turl, at that time of day -little harassed by any, unless it were the children of the porter of -Lincoln or Exeter. "Now, what is it thou hast got to say?" asked -Zacchary. But this was the very thing the younger brother was vainly -seeking for. - -"Nort, nort, Zak; nort of any 'count," he stammered, after casting in -his slow imagination for a good, fat, well-seasoned lie. - -"Now spake out the truth, man, whatever it be," said the Carrier, -trying to encourage him; "Tickuss, thou art always getting into -scrapes by manes of crooked dealing. But I'll not turn my back on -thee, if for once canst spake the truth like a man, brother." - -Leviticus struggled with his nature, while his little eyes rolled -slowly, and his plaited breastplate rose and fell. He stole some -irresolute glances at his brother's clear, straight-forward face; and -he might have saved himself by doing what he was half-inclined to do. -But circumstances aided nature to defeat his better star. The wife of -the porter of Lincoln College had sent forth one of her little girls -to buy a bunch of turnips. She knew that turnips would be very scarce -after so much hard weather; but her stew would be no good without -them; and among many other fine emotions, anxiety was now foremost. So -she thrust forth her head from the venerable porch, and at the top of -her voice exclaimed--"Turmots, turmots, turmots!" - -At that loud cry, Leviticus Cripps turned pale--for his conscience -smote him. "She meaneth me, she meaneth me, she meaneth my -turmot-field;" he whispered, with his long legs bent for departure; -"'tis a thousand pound they have offered, Zak. Come away, come away, -down Ship Street; there is a pump, and I want some water." - -"But tell me what thou wast agoing to say," cried his brother, laying -hold of him. - -"Dash it! I will tell thee the truth, then, Zak. I just went and cut -up a maisly sow--as fine a bit of pork as you ever clapped eyes on, -but for they little beauty spots. And the clerk of the market bought -some for his dinner; and he have got a bad cook, a cantankerous woman, -and now I be in a pretty mess!" - -"Not a word of all that do I believe," said Cripps. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -INSTALLED AT BRASENOSE. - - -Master Cripps was accustomed mainly to daylight roads and open ways. -It was true that he had a good many corners to turn between Beckley -and Oxford, whether his course were through Elsfield and Marston, or -the broader track from Headington. But for all sharp turns he had two -great maxims--keep on the proper side, and go slowly. By virtue of -these, he had never been damaged himself, or forced to pay damages; -and when he was in a pleasant vein, at the Dusty Anvil, or anywhere -else, it was useless to tell him that any mischance need happen to a -man who heeded this--that is to say, if he drove a good horse, and saw -to the shoeing of the nag himself. Of course there was also the will -of the Lord. But that was quite sure to go right, if you watched it. - -If he has any good substance in him, a man who spends most of his -daylight time in the company of an honest horse, is sure to improve so -much that none of his bad companions know him--supposing that he ever -had any. The simplicity and the good will of the horse, his faith in -mankind, and his earnest desire to earn his oats, and have plenty of -them; also the knowledge that his time is short, and his longest worn -shoes will outlast him; and that when he is dead, quite another must -be bought, who will cost twice as much as he did--these things (if any -sense can be made of them) operate on the human mind, in a measure, -for the most part, favourable. - -Allowance, therefore, must be made for Master Leviticus Cripps and his -character, as often as it is borne in mind that he, from society of -good horses, was (by mere mischance of birth) fetched down to -communion with low hogs. Not that hogs are in any way low, from a -properly elevated gazing-point; and taking, perhaps, the loftiest of -human considerations, they are, as yet, fondly believed to be much -better on a dish than horses. - -But that--as Cripps would plainly put it--is neither here nor there -just now; and it is ever so much better to let a man make his own -excuses, which he can generally do pretty well. - -"Cripps, well met!" cried Russel Overshute, seizing him by the apron, -as Zacchary stood at the corner of Ship Street, to shake his head -after his brother, who had made off down the Corn Market; "you are the -very man I want to see!" - -"Lor' a mercy now, be I, your Worship? Well, there are not many -gentlemen as it does me more good to look at." - -Without any flattery he might say that. It was good, after dealing -with a crooked man, to set eyes upon young Overshute. In his face -there was no possibility of lie, hidden thought, or subterfuge. -Whatever he meant was there expressed, in quick bold features, and -frank bright eyes. His tall straight figure, firm neck, and broad -shoulders helped to make people respect what he meant; moreover, he -walked as if he had always something in view before him. He never -turned round to look after a pretty girl, as weak young fellows do. He -admired a pretty girl very much; but had too much respect for her to -show it. He had made his choice, once for all in life; and his choice -was sweet Grace Oglander. - -"I made sure of meeting you, Master Cripps; if not in the market, at -any rate where you put up your fine old horse. I like a man who likes -his horse. I want to speak to you quietly, Cripps." - -"I am your man, sir. Goo where you plaiseth. Without no beckoning, I -be after you." - -"There is nothing to make any fuss about, Cripps. And the whole world -is welcome to what I say, whenever there is no one else concerned. At -present, there are other people concerned;--and get out of the way, -you jackanapes!" - -In symmetry with his advanced ideas, he should not have spoken -thus--but he spake it; and the eavesdropper touched his hat, and made -off very hastily. - -Russel was not at all certain of having quite acted up to his better -lights, and longed to square up all the wrong with a shilling; but, -with higher philosophy, suppressed that foolish yearning. "Now, -Cripps, just follow me," he said. - -The Carrier grumbled to himself a little, because of all his parcels, -and the change he was to call for somewhere, and a woman who could not -make up her mind about a bullock's liver--not to think of more -important things in every other direction. No one thought nothing of -the value of his time; every bit the same as if he was a lean old -horse turned out to grass! In spite of all that, Master Cripps did his -best to keep time with the long legs before him. Thus was he led -through well-known ways to the modest gate of Brasenose, which being -passed, he went up a staircase near the unpretentious hall of that -very good society. "Why am I here?" thought Cripps, but, with his -usual resignation, added, "I have aseed finer places nor this." This, -in the range of his great experience, doubtless was an established -truth. But even his view of the breadth of the world received a little -twist of wonder, when over a narrow dark doorway, which Mr. Overshute -passed in silence, he read--for read he could--these words, "Rev. -Thomas Hardenow." "May I be danged," said Cripps, "if I ever come -across such a queer thing as this here be!" - -However, he quelled his emotions and followed the lengthy-striding -Overshute into a long low room containing uncommonly little furniture. -There was no one there, except Overshute, and a scout, who flitted -away in ripe haste, with an order upon the buttery. - -"Now, Cripps, didst thou ever taste college ale?" Mr. Overshute asked, -as he took a chair like the dead bones of Ezekiel. "Master Carrier, -here thou hast the tokens of a new and important movement. In my time, -chairs were comfortable. But they make them now, only to mortify the -flesh." - -"Did your Worship mean me to sit down?" asked Cripps, touching the -forelock which he kept combed for that purpose. - -"Certainly, Cripps. Be not critical; but sit." - -"I thank your Worship kindly," he answered with little cause for -gratitude. "I have a-druv many thousand mile on a seat no worse nor -this, perhaps." - -"Your reservation is wise, my friend. Your driving-board must have -been velvet to this. But the new lights are not in our Brewery yet. If -they get there, they will have the worst of it. Here comes the -tankard! Well done, old Hooper. Score a gallon to me for my family." - -"With pleasure, sir," answered Hooper, truly, while he set on the -table a tray filled with solid luncheon. "Ah, I see you remember the -good old times, when there was those in this college, sir, that never -thought twice about keeping down the flesh; and better flesh, sir, -they had ever so much than these as are always a-doctoring of it. Ah, -when I comes to recall to my mind what my father said to me, when fust -he led me in under King Solomon's nose--'Bob, my boy,' he says to -me----" - -"Now, Hooper, I know that his advice was good. The fruit thereof is in -yourself. You shall tell me all about it the very next time I come to -see you." - -"Ah, they never cares now to hearken," said Hooper to himself, as, -with the resignation of an ancient scout, he coughed, and bowed, and -stroked the cloth, and contemplated Cripps with mild surprise, and -then made a quiet exit. As for listening at the door, a good scout -scorns such benefit. He likes to help himself to something more solid -than the words behind him. - -"If I may make so bold," said the Carrier, after waiting as long as he -could, with Overshute clearly forgetting him; "what was it your -Worship was going to tell me? Time is going by, sir, and our horse -will miss his feeding." - -"Attend to your own, Cripps, attend to your own. I beg your pardon for -not helping you. But that you can do for yourself, I dare say. I am -trying to think out something. I used to be quick; I am very slow -now." - -Cripps made a little face at this, to show that the ways of his -betters had good right to be beyond him; and then he stood upon his -sturdy bowed legs, and turned a quick corner of eye at the door, in -fear of any fasting influence, and seeing nothing of the kind, with -pleasure laid hold of a large knife and fork. - -"Lay about you, Cripps, my friend; lay about you to your utmost." So -said Mr. Overshute, himself refusing everything. - -"Railly now, I dunno, your Worship, how to get on, all a-ating by -myself. Some folk can, and some breaks down at it. I must have -somebody to ate with me--so be it was only now a babby, or a dog." - -"I thank you for the frank comparison, Cripps. Well, help me, if you -must--ah, I see you can carve." - -"I am better at the raw mate, sir; but I can make shift when roasted. -Butcher Numbers my brother, your Worship--but perhaps you never heered -on him?" - -"Oh yes, I know, Cripps. A highly respectable thriving man he is too. -All your family thrive, and everybody speaks so well of them. Why, -look at Leviticus! They tell me he has three hundred pigs!" - -Like most men who have the great gift of gaining good will and -popularity, Russel Overshute loved a bit of gossip about his -neighbours. - -"Your Worship," said Cripps, disappointing him of any new information, -"pigs is out of my way altogether. When I was a young man of tender -years, counteracted I was for to carry a pig. Three pounds twelve -shillings and four pence he cost me, in less than three-quarters of a -mile of road; and squeak, squeak, all the way, as if I was a-killing -of him, and not he me. Seemeth he smelled some apples somewhere, and -he went through a chaney clock, and a violin, and a set of first-born -babby-linen for Squire Corser's daughter; grown up now she is, your -Worship must a met her riding. And that was not the worst of it -nother----" - -"Well, Cripps, you must tell me another time. It was terribly hard -upon you. But, my friend, the gentleman who lives here will be back -for his hat, when the clock strikes two. Cap and gown off, when the -clock strikes two. From two until five he walks fifteen miles, -whatever the state of the weather is." - -"Lord bless me, your Worship, I could not travel that, with an empty -cart, and all downhill!" - -"Never mind, Cripps. Will you try to listen, and offer no -observation?" - -"To say nort,--does your Worship mean? Well, all our family be -esteemed for that." - -"Then prove the justice of that esteem; for I have a long story to -tell you, Cripps, and no long time to do it in." - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -A FLASH OF LIGHT. - - -The Carrier, with a decisive gesture, ceased from both solid and -liquid food, and settled his face, and whole body, and members into a -grim and yet flexible aspect, as if he were driving a half-broken -horse, and must be prepared for any sort of start. And yet with all -this he reconciled a duly receptive deference, and a pleasant -readiness, as if he were his own Dobbin, just fresh from stable. - -"I need not tell you, Master Cripps," said Russel, "how I have picked -up the many little things, which have been coming to my knowledge -lately. And I will not be too positive about any of them; because I -made such a mistake in the beginning of this inquiry. All my -suspicions at first were set on a man who was purely innocent--a legal -gentleman of fair repute, to whom I have now made all honourable -amends. In the most candid manner he has forgiven me, and desires no -better than to act in the best faith with us." - -"Asking your pardon for interrupting--did the gentleman happen to have -a sharp name?" - -"Yes, Cripps, he did. But no more of that. I was over sharp myself, no -doubt; he is thoroughly blameless, and more than that, his behaviour -has been most generous, most unwearying, most---- I never can do -justice to him." - -"Well, your Worship, no--perhaps not. A would take a rare sharp un to -do so." - -"You hold by the vulgar prejudice--well, I should be the last to blame -you. That, however, has nothing to do with what I want to ask you. But -first, I must tell you my reason, Cripps. You know I have no faith -whatever in that man John Smith. At first I thought him a tool of -Mr.--never mind who--since I was so wrong. I am now convinced that -John Smith is 'art and part' in the whole affair himself. He has -thrown dust in our eyes throughout. He has stopped us from taking the -proper track. Do you remember what discredit he threw on your sister's -story?" - -"He didn't believe a word of un. Had a good mind, I had, to a' knocked -un down." - -"To be sure, Cripps, I wonder that you forbore. Though violent -measures must not be encouraged. And I myself thought that your sister -might have made some mistakes through her scare in the dark. Poor -thing! Her hair can have wanted no bandoline ever since, I should -fancy. What a brave girl too not to shriek or faint!" - -"Well, her did goo zummut queer, sir, and lie down in the quarry-pit. -Perhaps 'twas the wisest thing the poor young wench could do." - -"No doubt it was--the very wisest. However, before she lost her wits -she noticed, as I understand her to say--or rather she was -particularly struck with the harsh cackling voice of the taller man, -who also had a pointed hat, she thinks. It was not exactly a cackling -voice, nor a clacking voice, nor a guttural voice, but something -compounded of all three. Your sister, of course, could not quite so -describe it; but she imitated it; which was better." - -"Her hath had great advantages. Her can imitate a'most anything. Her -waited for months on a College-chap, the very same in whose house we -be sitting now." - -"Cripps, that is strange. But to come back again. Your sister, who is -a very nice girl, indeed, and a good member of a good family----" - -"Ay, your Worship, that her be. Wish a could come across the man as -would dare to say the contrairy!" - -"Now, Cripps, we never shall get on, while you are so horribly -warlike. Are you ready to listen to me, or not?" - -"Every blessed word, your Worship, every blessed word goeth down; unto -such time as you begins to spake of things at home to me." - -"Such dangerous topics I will avoid. And now for the man with this -villainous voice. You knew, or at any rate now you know, that I never -was satisfied with that wretched affair that was called an 'Inquest.' -Inquest a non inquirendo--but I beg your pardon, my good Cripps. -Enough that the whole was pompous child's play, guided by crafty hands -beneath; as happens with most inquests. I only doubted the more, -friend Cripps; I only doubted the more, from having a wrong way taken -to extinguish doubts." - -"To be sure, your Worship; a lie on the back of another lie makes un -go heavier." - -"Well, never mind; only this I did. For a few days perhaps I was -overcome; and the illness of my dear old friend, the Squire, and the -trouble of managing so that he should not hear anything to kill him; -and my own slowness at the back of it all; for I never, as you know, -am hasty--these things, one and another, kept me from going on -horseback anywhere." - -"To be sure, your Worship, to be sure. You ought to be always -a-horseback. I've a-seed you many times on the Bench; but you looks a -very poor stick there compared to what 'ee be a-horseback." - -"Now, Cripps, where is your reverence? You call me 'your Worship,' and -in the same breath contemn my judicial functions. I must commit you -for a week's hard labour at getting in and out of your own cart, if -you will not allow me to speak, Cripps. At last I have frightened you, -have I? Then let me secure the result in silence. Well, after the -weather began to change from that tremendous frost and snow, and the -poor Squire fell into the quiet state that he has been in ever since, -I found that nothing would do for me, my health not being quite as -usual----" - -"Oh, your Worship was wonderfully kind; they told me you was as good -as any old woman in the room almost!" - -"Except to take long rides, Cripps, nothing at all would do for me. -And, not to speak of myself too much, I believe that saved me from -falling into a weak, and spooney, and godless state. I assure you -there were times--however, never mind that, I am all right now, -and----" - -"Thank the Lord! you ought to say, sir; but you great Squires upon the -bench----" - -"Thank the Lord! I do say, Cripps; I thank Him every day for it. But -if I may edge in a word, in your unusually eloquent state, I will tell -you just what happened to me. I never believed, and never will, that -poor Miss Oglander is dead. The coroner and the jury believed that -they had her remains before them, although for the Squire's sake they -forbore to identify her in the verdict. Your sister, no doubt, -believed the same; and so did almost every one. I could not go, I -could not go--no doubt I was a fool; but I could not face the chance -of what I might see, after what I had heard of it. Well, I began to -ride about, saying nothing of course to any one. And the more I rode, -the more my spirit and faith in good things came back to me. And I -think I have been rewarded, Cripps; at last I have been rewarded. It -is not very much; but still it is like a flash of light to me. I have -found out the man with the horrible voice." - -"Lord have mercy upon me! your Worship--the man as laid hold of the -pick-axe!" - -"I have found him, Cripps, I do believe. But rather by pure luck than -skill." - -"There be no such thing as luck, your Worship; if you will excoose me. -The Lord in heaven is the master of us!" - -"Upon my word, it looks almost like it, though I never took that view -of things. However, this was the way of it. To-day is Saturday. Well, -it was last Wednesday night, I was coming home from a long, and wet, -and muddy ride to Maidenhead. That little town always pleases me; and -I like the landlord and the hostler, and I am sure that my horse is -fed----" - -"Your Worship must never think such a thing, without you see it mixed, -and feel it, and watch him a-munching, until he hath done." - -"More than that, I have always fancied, ever since that story was -about the bag of potatoes you brought, without knowing any more of -it--ever since I heard of that, it has seemed to me that more -inquiries ought to be made at Maidenhead. I need not say why; but I -know that the Squire's opinion had been the same, as long as--I mean -while--his health permitted. On Wednesday I went to the foreman of the -nursery whence the potatoes came. It was raining hard, and he was in a -shed, with a green baize apron on, seeing to some potting work. I got -him away from the other men, and I found him a very sharp fellow -indeed. He remembered all about those potatoes, especially as Squire -Oglander had ridden from Oxford, in the snowy weather, to ask many -questions about them. But the Squire could not put the questions I -did. The poor old gentleman could not bear, of course, to expose his -trouble. But I threw away all little scruples (as truly I should have -done long ago), and I told the good foreman every word, so far as we -know it yet, at least. He was shocked beyond expression--people take -things in such different ways--not at the poor Squire's loss and -anguish, but that anybody should have dared to meddle with his own pet -'oakleafs,' and, above all, his new pet seal. - -"'I sealed them myself,' he said, 'sealed them myself, sir, with the -new coat of arms that we paid for that month, because of the tricks of -the trade, sir! Has anybody dared to imitate----' 'No, Mr. Foreman,' I -said, 'they simply cut away your seal altogether, and tied it again, -without any seal.' 'Oh, then,' he replied, 'that quite alters the -case. If they had only meddled with our new arms, while the money was -hot that we paid for them, what a case we might have had! But to knock -them off--no action lies.' - -"Cripps, it took me a very long time to warm him up to the matter -again, after that great disappointment. He was burning for some great -suit at law against some rival nursery, which always pays the upstart -one; but I led him round, and by patient words and simple truth -brought him back to reason. The packing of the bag he remembered well, -and the pouring of a lot of buck-wheat husks around and among the -potato sets, to keep them from bruising, and to keep out frost, which -seemed even then to be in the air. And he sent his best man to the -Oxford coach, the first down coach from London, which passed by their -gate about ten o'clock, and would be in Oxford about two, with the -weather and the roads as usual. In that case, the bag could scarcely -have been at the Black Horse more than half an hour before you came -and laid hold of it; and being put into the bar, as the Squire's -parcels always are, it was very unlikely to be tampered with." - -"Lord a' mercy! your Worship, it was witchcraft then! The same as I -said all along; it were witches' craft, and nothing else." - -"Stop, Cripps, don't you be in such a hurry. But wait till you hear -what I have next to tell. But oh, here comes my friend Hardenow, as -punctual as the clock strikes two! Well, old fellow, how are you -getting on?" - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -A STORMY NIGHT. - - -The Rev. Thomas Hardenow, fellow and tutor of Brasenose, strode into -his own room at full speed, and stopped abruptly at sight of the -Carrier. "Of all men, most I have avoided thee," was in his mind; but -he spoke it not, though being a strongly outspoken man. Not that he -ever had done any wrong to make him be shy of the Cripps race; but -that he felt in his heart a desire for commune, which must be -dangerous. He knew that in him lurked a foolish tendency towards -Esther; and (which was worse) he knew that she had done her best to -overcome a still more foolish turn towards him. - -Cripps, however (who would have fed the doves of Venus on black peas), -looked upon any little bygone "coorting" as a social and congenial -topic, enabling a quiet man to get on (if he only had a good memory) -with almost any woman. Like a sensible man, he had always acquitted -Hardenow of any blame in the matter, knowing that young girls' fancies -may be caught without any angling. "If her chose to be a fool, how -were he to blame for it?" And the Carrier never forgot the stages of -social distinction. "Servant, sir," he therefore said, with his usual -salaam; "hope I see you well, sir." - -"Thank you, Zacchary," said Mr. Hardenow, taking the Carrier's horny -palm (which always smelled of straps and buckles), and trying to -squeeze it, with a passive result, "I am pretty well, Zacchary, thank -you." - -"Then you don't look it, sir, that you doesn't. We heerd you was -getting on wonderful well. But the proof of the puddin' ain't in you, -sir." - -"That's right, Cripps," cried Overshute; "give it to him, Cripps! Why, -he starves himself! Ever since he took his first and second, and got -his fellowship and took orders, he hasn't known what a good dinner is. -He keeps all the fasts in the calendar, and the vigils of the -festivals, and he ought to have an appetite for the feasts; but he -overstays his time, and can't keep anything on his stomach!" - -"Now, Russel, as usual!" Hardenow answered, with a true and pleasant -smile; "what a fine fellow you would be, if you only had moderation! -But I see that you want to talk to Cripps; and I have several men -waiting in the quad. Where is my beaver? Oh! here, to be sure! Will -you come with us? No, of course you can't. Will you dine in hall with -me?" - -"Of course, I won't. But come you and dine with me on Sunday--the only -day you dare eat a bit--and my mother will do her best to strengthen -you, build you up, establish you, for a fortnight of macaroni. Will -you come?" - -"Yes, yes, to-morrow--to be sure--I have many things I want to say to -you. Good-bye for the present; good-bye, Master Cripps." - -"There goes one of the finest fellows, of all the fine fellows yet -ruined by rubbish!" With these words Russel Overshute ran to the -window and looked out. A dozen or more of young men were waiting, the -best undergraduates of the college, for Mr. Hardenow to lead them for -fifteen miles, without a word. - -"Well, every man to his liking," said Russel; "but that would be about -the last of mine. Now, Cripps, most patient of carriers, are you ready -for me to go on or not?" - -"I hath a been thinking about my horse. How greedy o' me to be ating -like this"--for the thought of so much fasting had made him set to -again, while he got the chance--"drinking likewise of college -ale--better I have tasted, but not often--and all this time, as you -might say, old Dobbin easing of his dainty foot, with no more nor a -wisp of hay to drag through his water--if he hath any." - -"An excruciating picture, Cripps, drawn by too vivid a conscience. -Dobbin is as happy as he can be, with twenty-five horses to talk to -him. At this very moment I behold him munching choicest of white oats -and chaff." - -"Your Worship can see through a stone-wall, they say; but they only -keeps black oats at the Cross just now, along of a contract the -landlord have made--and a blind sort of bargain, to my thinking----" - -"Never mind that--let him have black oats then, or Irish oats, or no -oats at all. But do you wish to hear my story out, or will you leave -it till next Saturday?" - -"Sir, you might a' seen as I was waiting, until such time as you plaze -to go on wi' un." - -"Very well, Cripps, that satisfies the most exacting historian. I will -go on where I left off, if that point can be established. Well, I left -the foreman of the nursery telling me about the man he sent with the -bag of potatoes to the Oxford coach. He told me he was one of his -sharpest hands, who had been off work for a week or two then, and had -only returned that morning. 'Joe Smith' was his name; and when they -could get him to work, he would do as much work as any two other men -on the place. He might be trusted with anything, if he only undertook -it; but the worst of him was that he never could be got to stick long -to anything. Here to-day and gone to-morrow had always been his -character; and they thought that he must be of gipsy race, and perhaps -had a wandering family. - -"This made me a little curious about the man; and I asked to see him. -But the foreman said that for some days now he had not been near the -nursery, and they thought that he was on the Oxford road, in the -neighbourhood of Nettlebed; and another thing--if I did see him, I -could not make out more than half he said, for the man had such a -defect in his voice, that only those who were used to him could be -certain of his meaning. Suddenly I thought of your sister's tale, and -I said to the foreman, 'Does he speak like this?' imitating as well as -I could your sister's imitation of him. 'You know the man, sir,' the -foreman answered; 'you have got him so exactly, that you must have -heard him many times.' I told him no more, but asked him to describe -Joe Smith's appearance. He answered that he was a tall, dark man, -loosely built, but powerful, with a stoop in his neck, and a long -sharp nose; and he generally wore a brown pointed hat. - -"Cripps, you may well suppose that my suspicions were strong by this -time. Here was your sister's description--so far as the poor girl -could see in the dusk and the fright--confirmed to the very letter; -and here was the clear opportunity offered for slipping the wreath of -hair into the bag." - -"Your Worship, now, your Worship! you be a bit too sharp! If that -there man were at Headington quarry at nightfall of the Tuesday, how -could he possible a' been to Maidenhead next morning? No, no, your -Worship are too sharp." - -"Too thick, you mean, Cripps; and not sharp enough. But listen to me -for a moment. Those long-legged gipsies think very little of going -thirty miles in a night; though they never travel by day so. And then -there is the up mail-coach. Of course he would not pay his fare, but -he might hang on beneath the guard's bugle, with or without his -knowledge, and slip away at the changing-houses. Of that objection I -think nothing. It serves to my mind as a confirmation." - -"Very well, sir," said Cripps discreetly; "who be I for to argify?" - -"No, Cripps, of course not. But still I wish to allow you to think of -everything. You may not be right; but still I like you to speak when -you think of anything. That is what I have always said, and contended -for continually--let every man speak--when sensible." - -"Your Worship hath hit the mark again. The old Squire saith, 'let no -man speak,' as St. Paul sayeth of the women. But your Worship saith -'let all men speak, all women likewise, as hath a tongue'--and then -you stoppeth us both the more, by restirrecting all on us, women or -men, whichever a may happen, till such time as all turns up sensible. -Now, there never could ever be such a time!" - -"Carrier, you are satirical. Keep from the Dusty Anvil, Cripps. Marry -a wife, and you will have a surfeit of argument at home. But still you -have been very good on the whole, and you never will get home -to-night. At any rate, I was so convinced, in spite of all smaller -difficulties, that I bound the foreman to let me know, by a man on -horseback, at any expense, the moment he saw Joe Smith again. And his -parting words to me were these--'Well, sir, don't you think harm of -Joe without sure proof against him. He is a random chap, I know; but I -never saw a better man to earn his wages.' - -"Well, I went back to the inn at once, and rode leisurely to Henley. -It was raining hard, and the river in flood with all the melted snow -and so on, when I crossed that pretty bridge. I had been trying in -vain to think what was the best thing I could do; not liking to go -home, and leave my new discovery so vague. But being soaked and chilly -now, I resolved to have a glass of something hot, for fear of taking a -violent cold, and losing perhaps a week by it. So I went into the -entrance of that good inn by the waterside, and called for some brandy -and water hot. The landlord was good enough to come out; and knowing -me from old boating days, he got into a talk with me. I had helped him -at the sessions about a house of his at Dorchester; and nothing could -exceed his good will. Remembering how the gipsies hang about the boats -and the waterside, I asked him (quite as a random shot) whether any of -them happened to be in the neighbourhood just now. He thought perhaps -that I was timid about my dark ride homeward, and he told me all he -knew of them. There was one lot, as usual, in the open ground about -Nuneham, and another large camp near Chalgrove, and another, quite a -small pitch that, on the edge of the firs above Nettlebed. - -"This last was the lot for me; and I pressed him so about them, that -he looked at me with a peculiar grin. 'What do you mean by that?' I -asked. 'Now, Squire Overshute, as if you did not know!' he answered. -'Doth your Worship happen to remember Cinnaminta's name?' - -"Cripps, I assure you I was astonished. Of course you knew -Cinnaminta--well, I don't want to be interrupted. No one could say any -harm of her; and a lovelier girl was never seen. The landlord had -heard some bygone gossip about Cinnaminta and myself. I did admire -her. I am not ashamed to say that I greatly admired her. And so did -every young fellow here, who had got a bit of pluck in him. I will not -go into that question; but you know what Cinnaminta was." - -Cripps nodded, with a thick mixture of feelings. His poetical self had -been smitten more with Cinnaminta than he cared to tell; and his -practical self was getting into a terrible hubbub about his horse. "To -be sure, your Worship," was all he said. - -"Very well, now you understand me. To hear of Cinnaminta being in that -camp at Nettlebed made me so determined that I laid hold of the -landlord by the collar without thinking. He begged me not to ride off -with him, or his business would be ruined; and feeling that he weighed -about eighteen stone, I left him on his threshold. - -"I could not bear to ask him now another word of anything. Knowing -looks, and winks, and reeking jokes so irritate me, when I know that a -woman is pure and good. You remember how we all lost Cinnaminta. Three -or four score of undergraduates, reckless of parental will, had -offered her matrimony; and three or four newly-elected fellows were -asking whether they would vacate, if they happened to jump the -broomstick." - -"All that were too fine to last," muttered Cripps, most sensibly. "But -her ought to a' had a sound man on the road--a man with a horse well -seasoned, and a substantial cart--her ought." - -"Oh, then, Cripps, you were smitten too! A nice connection for light -parcels! Well, never mind. The whole thing is over. We all are sadder -and wiser men; but we like to know who the chief sufferer is--what man -has won the beauty. And with this in my mind, I rode up the hill, and -resolved to go through with my seeking. - -"When I got to the end of 'the fair-mile,' the night came down in -earnest. You know my young horse 'Cantelupe,' freckled like a melon. -He knows me as well as my old dog; and a child can ride him. But in -the dark he gets often nervous, and jumps across the road, if he sees -what he does not consider sociable. So that one must watch his ears, -whatever the weather may be. And now the weather was as bad as man or -horse could be out in. - -"All day, there had been spits of rain, with sudden puffs of wind, and -streaks of green upon the sky, and racing clouds with ragged edges. -You remember the weather of course; Wednesday is one of your Oxford -days. Well, I hope you were home before it began to pelt as it did -that evening. For myself I did not care one fig. I would rather be -drenched than slowly sodden. But I did care for my horse; because he -had whistled a little in the afternoon, and his throat is slightly -delicate. And the whirr of the wind in the hedge, and the way it -struck the naked branches back, like the clashing of clubs against the -sky, were enough to make even a steady old horse uneasy at the things -before him. Moreover, the road began to flash with that peculiar light -which comes upward or downward--who can tell?--in reckless tumults of -the air and earth. The road was running like a river; come here and go -there, like glass it shone with the furious blows of the wind striking -a pale gleam out of it. I stooped upon Cantelupe's neck, or the wind -would have dashed me back over his crupper. - -"Suddenly in this swirl and roar, my horse stood steadfast. He spread -his fore legs and stooped his head to throw his balance forward; and -his mane (which had been lashing my beard) swished down in a waterfall -of hair. I was startled as much as he was, and in the strange light -stared about. 'You have better eyes than I have,' I said, 'or else you -are a fool, Canty.' - -"I thought that he was a fool, until I followed the turn of his head, -and there I saw a white thing in the ditch. Something white or rather -of a whity-brown colour was in the trough, with something dark leaning -over it. 'Who are you there?' I shouted, and the wind blew my voice -back between my teeth. - -"'Nort to you, master. Nort to you. Go on, and look to your own -consarns.' - -"This rough reply was in a harsh high cackle, rather than a human -voice; but it came through the roar of the tempest clearly, as no -common voice could come. For a moment, I had a great mind to do -exactly as I was ordered. But curiosity, and perhaps some pity for the -fellow, stopped me. 'I will not leave you, my friend,' I said, 'until -I am sure that I can do no good.' The man was in such trouble, that he -made no answer which I could hear, so I jumped from my horse, who -would come no nearer; and holding the bridle, I went up to see. - -"In as sheltered a spot as could be found, but still in a dripping and -weltering place, lay, or rather rolled and kicked, a poor child in a -most violent fit. 'Don't 'ee now, my little Tom; don't 'ee, that's a -deary, don't!' The man kept coaxing, and moaning, and trying to smooth -down little legs and arms. 'Let it have its way,' I said; 'only keep -the head well up; and try to put something between the teeth.' Without -any answer, he did as I bade; and what he put betwixt the teeth must -have been his own great thumb. Of course he mistook me for a doctor. -None but a doctor was likely to be out riding on so rough a night." - -"Ah, how I do pity they poor chaps!" cried Carrier Cripps, who really -could not wait one minute longer. "Many a naight I mates 'em a -starting for ten or twenty maile of it, just when I be in the smell o' -my supper, and nort but nightcap arterward. Leastways, I mean, arter -pipe and hot summat. Your Worship'll 'scoose me a-breakin' in. But -there's half my arrands to do yet, and the sun gone flat on the -Radcliffe! The Lord knows if I shall get home to-night. But if I -doos--might I make so bold--your Worship be coming to see poor Squire? -Your Worship is not like some worships be--and I has got a rare drop -of fine old stuff! Your Worship is not the man to take me crooked. I -means no liberty, mind you." - -"Of that I am certain," Mr. Overshute answered. "Cripps, your -suggestion just hits the mark. I particularly want to see your sister. -That was my object in seeking you. And I did not like to see her, -until you should have had time to prepare her. I have several things -to see to here, and then I will ride to Beckley. Mrs. Hookham will -give me a bit of dinner, when I have seen my dear friend the Squire. -At night, I will come down, and smoke a pipe, and finish my story with -you, as soon as I am sure you have had your supper." - -"Never you pay no heed at all," said Master Cripps, with solemnity, -"to no thought of my zupper, sir. That be entire what you worships -call a zecondary consideration. However, I will have un, if so be I -can. And you mustn't goo for to think, sir, that goo I would now, if -stay I could. I goes with that there story, the same as the jog of a -cart to the trot of the nag. My wits kapes on agoin' up and down. But -business is a piece of the body, sir. But no slape for me; nor no -church to-morrow; wi'out I hears the last of that there tale!" - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -CRIPPS DRAWS THE CORK. - - -Any kind good-natured person, loving bright simplicity, would have -thought it a little treat to look round the Carrier's dwelling-room, -upon that Saturday evening, when he expected Mr. Overshute. Not that -Cripps himself was over-tidy, or too particular. He was so kindly -familiar now with hay, and straw, and bits of string, and chaff, and -chips, and promiscuous parcels, that on the whole he preferred a -litter to any exertions of broom or brush. But Esther, who ruled the -house at home, was the essence of quick neatness, and scorned all -comfort, unless it looked--as well as was--right comfortable. And now, -expecting so grand a guest, she had tucked up her sleeves, and stirred -her pretty arms to no small purpose. - -The room was still a kitchen, and she had made no attempt to disguise -that much. But what can look better than a kitchen, clean, and bright, -and well supplied with the cheery tools of appetite. It was a -good-sized room, and very picturesque with snugness. Little corners, -in and out, gave play for light and shadow; the fireplace retired far -enough to well express itself; and the dresser had brass-handled -drawers, that seemed quietly nursing table-cloths. Well, above these, -upon lofty hooks, the chronicles of the present generation might be -read on cups. Zacchary headed the line, of course; and then--as -Genesis is ignored by grander generations--Exodus, and Leviticus (the -fount of much fine movement), and Numbers, and a great many more, -showed that the Carrier's father and mother had gladly baptized every -one. - -In front of the fire sat the Carrier, with nearly all of his best -clothes on, and gazing at a warming-pan. He had been forbidden to eat -his supper, for fear of making a smell of it; and he had a great mind -to go to bed, and have some hot coals under him. For nearly five miles -of uphill work and laying his shoulder against the spokes, he had been -promising himself a rare good supper, and a pipe to follow; and now -where were they? In the far background. He had no idea of rebellion; -still that saucepan on the simmer made the most provoking movements. -Therefore he put up his feet upon a stump of oak (which had for -generations cooled down pots), and he turned with a shake of his head -toward the fire, and sniffed the sniff of Tantalus, and muttered--"Ah, -well! the Lord knoweth best!" and thought to himself that if ever -again he invited the quality to his house, he would wait till he had -his own quantity first. - -Esther was quite in a flutter; although she was ready to deny it -stoutly, and to blush a bright red in doing so. To her, of course, -Justice Overshute was simply a great man, who must have the chair of -state, and the talk of restraint, and a clean dry hearth, and the -curtsy, and the best white apron of deference. To her it could make -not one jot of difference, that Mr. Overshute happened to be the most -intimate friend of some other gentleman, who never came near her, -except in dreams. Tush, she had the very greatest mind, when the house -was clean and tidy, to go and spend the evening with her dear friend -Mealy at the Anvil. But Zacchary would not hear of this; and how could -she go against Zacchary? - -So she brought the grand chair, the arm-chair of yew-tree--the tree -that used to shade the graves of unrecorded Crippses--a chair of -deepest red complexion, countenanced with a cushion. The cushion was -but a little pad in the dark capacious hollow; suggesting to an -innocent mind, that a lean man had left his hat there, and a fat man -had sat down on it. But the mind of every Cripps yet known was -strictly reverential; and this was the curule chair, and even the -Olympian throne of Crippses. - -Russel Overshute knocked at the door, in his usual quick and impetuous -way. In the main he was a gentleman; and he would have knocked at a -nobleman's door exactly as he did at the Carrier's. But all radical -theories, fine as they are, detract from gentle practice; and the -too-large-minded man, while young, takes a flying leap over small -niceties. He does not remember that poor men need more deference than -rich men, because they are not used to it. To put it more -plainly--Overshute knocked hard, and meant no harm by it. - -"Come in, sir, and kindly welcome!" Cripps began, as he showed him in; -"plaize to take this chair, your Worship. Never mind your boots; Lor' -bless us! the mud of three counties cometh here." - -"Then it goes away again very quickly! Miss Cripps, how are you? May I -shake hands?" - -Esther, who had been shrinking into the shade of the clock and the -dresser, came forward with a brave bright blush, and offered her hand, -as a lady might. Russel Overshute took it kindly, and bowed to her -curtsy, and smiled at her. In an honest manly way, he admired pretty -Esther. - -"Master Cripps, you are too bad; and your sister in the conspiracy -too! I do believe that your mind is set to make me as tipsy as a king -to-night!" - -"They little things!" said the Carrier, pointing to the old oak table, -where a bottle of grand old whiskey shone with the reflected gleam of -lemons, and glasses danced in the firelight--"they little things, sir, -was never set for so good a gentleman afore, nor a one to do such -honour to un. But they might be worse, sir, they might be worse, to -spake their simple due of un. And how is poor Squire to-night, your -Worship?" - -"Well, he is about as usual. Nothing seems to move him much. He sits -in his old chair, and listens for a step that never comes. But his -patience is wonderful. It ought to be a lesson to us; and I hope it -has been one to me. He trusts in the Lord, Cripps, as strongly as -ever. I fear I should have given up that long ago, if I were laid on -my back as he is." - -"Young folk," answered Cripps, as he drew the cork--"meaning no -disrespect to you, sir--when they encounters trouble, is like a young -horse a-coming to the foot of a hill for the fust time wi' a heavy -load. He feeleth the collar beginning to press, and he tosseth his -head, and that maketh un worse. He beginneth to get into fret and -fume, and he shaketh his legs with anger, and he turneth his head and -foameth a bit, and champeth, to ax the maning o' it. And then you can -judge what the stuff of him is. If he be bad stuff, he throweth them -back, and tilteth up his loins, and spraddleth. But if he hath good -stuff, he throweth out his chest, and putteth the fire into his eyes, -and closeth his nostrils, and gathereth his legs, and straineth his -muscles like a bowstring. But be he as good as a wool, he longeth to -see over the top of that there hill, afore he be half-way up it." - -"Well, Cripps, I have done that, I confess. I have longed to see over -the top of the hill; and Heaven only knows where that top is! But as -sure as we sit here and drink this glass of punch to your sister's -health, and to yours, good Carrier, so surely shall our dear old -friend receive the reward of his faith and courage; whether in this -world or the next!" - -"Thank 'ee kindly, sir. Etty, is that the best sort of curtsy they -teaches now? Now, don't blush, child, but make a betterer. But as to -what your Worship was a-saying of, I virtually hopes a may come to -pass in this world we be living in. Otherwise, maybe, us never may -know on it, the kingdom of Heaven being such a size." - -"Cripps, I believe it will be in this world. And I hope that I am on -the straight road now towards making out some part of it. You have -told your sister all I told you at Brasenose this morning according to -my directions? Very well, then; I may begin again at the point where I -left off with you. Where did I break it? I almost forget." - -"With the man's big thumb in the mouth of the cheeld, while you was -a-looking at him, sir; and the wind and the rain blowing furious." - -"Ah yes, I remember; and so they were. I thought that the crest of the -hedge would fall over, and bury the whole of us out of the way. And -when the poor boy had kicked out his convulsions, and fallen into a -senseless sleep, the rough man turned on me savagely, as if I could -have prevented it. 'A pretty doctor you be!' he exclaimed. But I took -the upper hand of him. 'Stand back there!' I said; and I lifted the -child (expecting him to strike me all the while), and placed the poor -little fellow on my horse, and managed to get up into my saddle before -the wind blew him off again. 'Now lead the way to your home,' I said. -And muttering something, he set off. - -"He strode along at such a pace that, having to manage both child and -horse, it was all I could do to keep up with him. But I kept him in -sight till he came to a common, and there he struck sharply away to -the right. By the light of the wind and the rain, and a star that -twinkled where the storm was lifting, I followed him, perhaps for half -a mile, through a narrow track, in and out furze and bramble. At last -he turned suddenly round a corner, and a shadow fell behind him--his -own shadow thrown by a gusty gleam of fire. Cantelupe--that is my -horse, Miss Esther--has not learned to stand fire yet, and he shied at -the light, and set off through the furze, as if with the hounds in -full cry before him. We were very lucky not to break our necks, going -headlong in the dark among rabbit-holes. I thought that I must have -dropped the child, as the best thing to be done for him; but the -shaking revived him, and he clung to me. - -"I got my horse under command at last; but we must have gone half a -mile anywhere, and to find the way back seemed a hopeless task. But -the quick-witted people (who knew what had happened, and what was -likely to come of it) saved me miles of roundabout by a very simple -expedient. They hoisted from time to time a torch of dry furze blazing -upon a pole; and though the light flared and went out on the wind, by -the quick repetition they guided me. In the cold and the wet, it -rejoiced my heart to think of a good fire somewhere." - -"Etty, stir the fire up," the hospitable Cripps interrupted. "His -Worship hath shivers, to think of it. When a man, or, beg pardon, a -gentleman, feeleth the small of his back go creeping, he needeth good -fire to come up his legs, and a hot summat to go down him. Etty, be -quick with the water now." - -"Cripps, Cripps, Carrier Cripps! do you want to have me spilled on the -road to-night? I am trying to tell things in proper order. But how can -I do it, if you go on so? However, as I was beginning to say, -Cantelupe, and the child, and I, fetched back to the place at last, -where the flash of light had started us. And we saw, not a flash, but -a glow this time, a steadfast body of cheerful fire, with pots and -cauldrons over it. So well had the spot been chosen, in the lee of -ground and growth, that the ash of the fire lay round the embers, as -still as the beard of an oyster; while thicket and tree but a few -yards off were threshing in the wind and wailing. Behind this fire, -and under a rick-cloth sloping from a sandstone crest, women and -children, and one or two men, sat as happy and snug as could be: dry, -and warm, and ready for supper, and pleased with the wind and the rain -outside, which improved their comfort and appetite. And now and then -the children seemed to be pulling at an important woman, to hurry her, -perhaps, in her cookery. - -"But while I was watching them, keeping my horse on the verge of light -and shadow, a woman, quite different from the rest, came out of the -darkness after me. Heedless of weather, and reckless of self, she had -been seeking for me, or rather for my little burden. Her hair was -steeped with the drenching rain, for she wore no hat or bonnet; and -her dark clothes hung on the lines of her figure, as women hate to let -them do. Her eyes and face I could not see because of the way the -light fell; but I seemed to know her none the less. - -"While I gazed in doubt, my little fellow slipped like an eel from my -clasp and the saddle; and almost before I could tell where he -was--there he was in the arms of his mother! Wonders of love now began -to go on; and it struck me that I was one too many in a scene of that -sort; and I turned my good horse, to be off and away. But the woman -called out, and a man laid hold of my bridle, and took his hat off, -when, with the usual impulse of a stopped Briton, I was going to -strike at him. I saw that it was my good friend of the ditch, and I -came to parley with him. - -"What with his scarcity of manners, and of polished language, and -worst of all his want of palate, I found it hard, with so much wind -blowing out here all around us, to understand his meaning. This was -rude of me to the last degree, for the queerly-voiced man was doing no -less than inviting me, with all his heart, to an uncommonly good -dinner!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -CINNAMINTA. - - -"Now that," said Cripps, "is what I call the proper way of doing -things. Arter all, they hathens knows a dale more than we credit 'em." - -"Well, Miss Esther," asked Russel, turning to his other listener, -"what do you think about it now?" - -"Sir," she replied, with her round cheeks coloured by the excitement -of his tale, and shining in the firelight, "I do not know what the -manners may be among the gentry in such things. But if it had been one -of us, we never could have supped with him." - -"You are right," answered Overshute; "so I felt. Starving as I was, I -could not break bread with a man like that, until he should have -cleared himself. He did not seem to be conscious of any dark mistrust -on my part; and that was natural enough, as he did not even know me. -But when I said that I must ride home as fast as I could, he asked me -first to come and have a look at the poor little child. This I could -not well refuse; so I gave my horse to a boy to hold, and followed him -into the warm dry place, and into his own corner. As I passed, and the -people made way for me, I saw that they were genuine gipsies, not mere -English vagabonds. There was no mistaking the clearly-cut features, -and the olive complexions, and the dark eyes, lashed both above and -below. My gruff companion raised a screen, and showed me into his -snuggery. - -"It was dimly lit by a queer old lamp of red earthenware, and of Roman -shape. Couches of heather, and a few low stools, and some vessels were -the only furniture; but the place was beautifully clean, and fragrant -with dry fern and herbs. In the furthest corner lay little Tom, with a -woman bending over him. At the sound of our entry she turned to meet -us, and I saw Cinnaminta. Her hair, and eyes, and graceful carriage -were as grand as ever, and her forehead as clear and noble; but her -face had lost the bright puzzle of youth, and the flush of damask -beauty. In a word, that rich mysterious look, which used to thrill so -many hearts, was changed into the glance of fear, and the restless -gaze of anxiety. - -"She knew me at once, and asked, with a very poor attempt at -gaiety--'Are you come to have your fortune told, sir?' - -"Before I could answer, her husband spoke some words in her own -language, and the 'Princess,' as we used to call her, took my hand in -both of hers, and kissed it, and poured forth her thanks. She had been -so engrossed with her poor sick child that she had not known me on -horseback. Having done so little to deserve her thanks, I was quite -surprised at such gratitude; and it made me fear that she must be now -unaccustomed to kind treatment. I asked how her grandmother was, who -used to sit up so proudly at Cowley, as well as her sister, the little -thing that used to run in and out so. As I spoke of them, she shook -her head and gazed at some long distance, to tell me that they were no -more. I could not remember the rest of her people, except her Uncle -Kershoe, as fine a fellow as ever stole a horse. When I spoke of him, -she laughed as if he were going on as well as ever; and I hoped that -it might be no son of his to whom I had trusted Cantelupe. But of -course I knew that gipsy honour would hold him sacred for the time, -even if he were Bay Middleton. Then I asked her about her own -children, and again she shook her head and said--'Three, all three in -one are now; and that is the one you saved.' With that, while her -husband left the tent, Cinnaminta led me to look at the poor little -fellow in his deep warm sleep. A beautiful little boy it was; a real -Princess might yearn in vain for such a lovely offspring, if only the -stamp of health had been on him. But the glow of airy health and -breezy vigour was not on him; neither will it ever be, so far as one -may judge by skin. Clear, transparent, pearly skin, all whose colour -seems to come from under, instead of over it; the more the wind or the -sun strikes on it, the more its colour evaporates. I fear that poor -Cinnaminta's child will go the way of the younger ones." - -"Poor dear! poor dear!" exclaimed the Carrier, rubbing his nose in a -sad slow way. "I can guess what her would be to them. If her loseth -that little un, mind--well then, you will see if her dothn't go arter -un." - -"I believe that she will," replied Overshute; "I never saw any one so -wrapped up in another being as she is. As for Joe Smith, her husband, -and the way she treats him, I couldn't--no, I never could put up with -it, even if it were---- But, Miss Esther, why do you look with such a -curious smile at me? Of such matters what can you know? However, there -goes your clock again! Cripps, I shall never get home to-night; and my -mother will think I was poaching. Because I will not send the poachers -to prison, she believes that I must be a poacher myself!" - -"Now, verily, your Worship, that bates all I have ever heerd of! How -could a Justice go a-poaching, howsomever he tried his best?" - -"Cripps, he might. I believe he might, if he really did his best for -it. However, let that question pass; although it is highly -interesting. I will try, at my leisure, to solve it. But how can I -think of such little things in the middle of great sad ones? It really -made me feel as if I never should laugh again almost, when I saw this -fine unselfish woman controlling herself, and commanding herself, in -the depth of her misery about her child. And when I thought how she -might have got on, if she only had liked education, and that; and to -marry a fellow of Oriel; I assure you, Miss Esther, I began to feel -how women throw away their chances. Of course, I could not hint at -things disloyal--or what shall I call them? Unconjugal, perhaps, is -what I mean; unuxorial, or what it may be. But although I am slow at -seeing things; because I used to think myself too quick, and have made -false charges through it; I really could not help feeling sure that -poor Cinnaminta had made an awkward tally with her husband. However, -that was no concern of mine. She had made her own choice, and must -stick to it. But to think of it made me uncomfortable, and I could not -speak then of what I wished to speak of, but took short leave and rode -away. First, however, I got permission to come over again on the -Friday--yesterday, I mean; and now I will tell you exactly what -happened then." - -"Your Worship do tell a tale," said Cripps; "that wonderful, that us -be almost there! They women takes a man, whether or no he wool; and -when they gets tired of un, they puts all the fault on he, they do! -There was a woman as did the washing, over to Squire Pemberton's; -nothing to look at--unless you hadn't seen done-up hair for a -twelve-month, the same as happens to the sailors; and in her -go-roundings of no account, for to catch the notice of a man much. But -that very woman, I'm danged if her didn't----" - -"Zacchary, hush!" said Esther; and the Carrier muttered, "Of course, -of course! No chance of fair play wi' un! Well, go on, your Worship." - -"I have very little more to tell you, as yet," Overshute answered, -with a smile at both. "You have listened with wonderful patience to -me; and I am surprised at remembering half of what happened to me in a -hurry so. I shall make more allowance for witnesses now, when they get -confused and hesitate. But, as I was going to say, I rode over to -Nettlebed Common, or whatever it is called, in good time yesterday, so -as to have a long quiet talk with Cinnaminta; knowing that if she -would not tell me the truth, she would tell no falsehood. As I rode -along in that fine spring sun, my mind was unusually clear and bright. -I saw to a nicety what questions I ought to put, and how to put them; -and nothing of all the ins and outs of this matter could escape me. -When the sun threw my shadow, as sharp as a die, I could not help -laughing to the open road and the clear long breadth of prospect, at -the narrow stupid thoughts we had been thinking throughout the winter. -In a word, I was sure, as I am of my life, of finding sweet Grace -Oglander, and restoring her father to his fine old health, and -spreading great happiness everywhere; and thus I rode up to the -gipsy-camp--and there was not a shadow or a trace of it!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -A DELICATE SUBJECT. - - -The log had burned down, and the fire was low, when Russel thus ended -his story. Cripps was indignant, because he had made up his mind for -"summat of a zettlement;" and Esther was full of young womanly -thoughts about Cinnaminta and her poor child. But even before they -could consult one another, or cross-examine, a loud, sharp knock at -the door was heard, and in ran Mary Hookham. - -"Oh, if you please, sir--oh, if you please, sir!" she exclaimed with -both hands up, and making the most of her shawl fringe, "such a thing -have turned up!--I never! Them stockings! Oh, them silk stockings, -sir! Your Worship--oh, them silk stockings, sir!" - -"My dear," said Cripps in a fatherly tone, and with less contemporary -feeling than Mary might wish to inspire him with--"my dear good maid, -you be that upset, that to spake, without sloping the spout of the -kettle, might lade to a'most anything. Etty, you ain't had a drap of -nort--and all the better for 'ee. Give over your glass, girl. Now, -Miss Mary, the laste little drap, and then you spakes; and then you -has another drap. 'Scoose me, your Worship, to make so bold; but a -young man can't see them things in the right light." - -"Oh, Master Cripps, now!" cried Mary Hookham, "what but a young man be -you yourself? And none of they young men can point their tongues, to -compare with you, to my mind. But I beg your pardon, sir, Mr. -Russel--your name come so familiar to me, through our dear young lady. -I forgot what I was a-doing, your Worship, to be sitting down in your -presence so!" - -"Mary, if you get up I shall get up also, and go away. We are both -enjoying the hospitality of our good friend, Master Cripps. Now, Mary, -by no means hurry yourself; but tell me at your leisure why you came, -and what your news is." - -"Silk stockings, forsooth!" cried Master Cripps, being vexed at this -break of the evening. "Why, my grandmother had a whole pair of they! I -belave I could find 'em now, I do! Silk stockings, to break up one's -comfort for! Not but what I be glad to see you. Mary, my dear, I drink -your good health, touching spoons in lack of lips." - -"Oh, Mr. Cripps, you are so funny! And you do make me fell things in -such a way! Bless me, if I haven't dropped my comb! Oh, I am so -shocked to trouble you! Natteral hair are so provoking, compared to -what most people wears now-a-days. But about what I come for--oh, your -Worship, stockings is not what I ought to speak of, except in the ear -of females." - -"Stockings are a very good subject, Mary; particularly if they are -silk ones." - -"Lor, sir! Now, I never thought of that! To be sure, that makes all -the difference! Well then, your Worship must know all, and Master -Cripps, and Miss Esther, too. It seemeth that Mrs. Fermitage, master's -own sister, you know, sir, have never been comfortable in her mind -about her behaviour when the 'quest was held. Things lay on her nerves -at that time so, that off and on she hardly seemed to know where she -was, or how dooty lay to her. Not that she is at all selfish, if you -please to understand me--no more selfish than I myself be, or any one -of us here present. But ladies requires allowance; and it makes me -have a pain to think of it. You could not expect her--could you -now?--to go through it, as if she was a man; or rather, I should say, -a gentleman." - -"Of course we could not," answered Overshute; and the Carrier began to -think, why not. - -"However, she did go through it," said Mary, "as well as the very best -man could have done. She covered her feelings, as you might say, with -a pint pot, or with less than that." - -"With a wine-glass of brandy, I did hear tell," said Master Cripps -inquiringly. - -"No, no; that was a shocking story. It makes me ashamed of the place -as we live in whenever I heer such scandalies!" - -"Miss Mary, my dear, I beg your pardon. Lord knows I only say what I -heers! Take a little drop, Miss, and go on." - -"It makes one afeared to touch a drop of most hinnocent mixture as -ever was," continued poor Mary, after one good gulp; "and at the same -time most respectable waters--when people as never had opportunity of -forming no judgment about them--people as only can spit out their -tongues at them as have some good taste in theirn, when such folk--for -people they are not--dareth to go forth to say---- But I see you are -laughing at me, your Worship; and perhaps I well deserve it, sir. It -is no place of mine to convarse of such subjects--me who never deals -with 'em! But, one way or other, that good lady (as, barring her way -with her servants, she is, which our good master have many a time, up -and given it to her about), well, this very day, sir, in she come when -I was a-doing of my morning doos--every bit as partiklar, sir, as if I -had a mistress over me; and she say to me, 'Mary Hookham!' and I says, -'Yes, ma'am; at your service.' And she ask me without any more to -do--the just words I cannot now call to mind--for to send at once, -without troubling poor master, to fetch they stockings as was put by, -to the period of the coroner's 'quest. Poor master have never been -allowed to see them, no more has none of us, sir; for fear of setting -on foot some allowance of vulgar curiosity. And all of us is not above -it, I know; but that is a natteral error in places where few has had -much eddication." - -"I don't hold much with that there eddication," cried the Carrier -rather gloomily. "A may suit some people, but not many. They puts it -on 'em all alike wi'out trial of constitootion. Some goes better for -it; but most volk worse." - -"Well, you know best, Mr. Cripps, of course. Up and down the road as -you be, every door give you a hinstance. His Worship is all for -eddication; and no one need swaller it, unless they likes. But pretty -well schooled as I have been, sir, I looks down on no one. And now, -when master's sister made that sudden call upon me, I assure you, sir, -and Master Cripps, and Miss Esther in the corner there, the very first -thing as I longed for was more knowledge of the ways of the kingdom. -More sense, I mean, of where the powers puts the things that have been -called up and laid at the feet of the law-courts. They stockings was -more lost to me, than gone to be washed by the gipsies. - -"It never would have done for me to say that much to Mrs. Fermitage. -She would have been out in a wrath at once, for she is not sweet like -master; so I gave her all 'yes' instead of 'why' or 'how,' as we do to -quick-tempered gentlefolk. And then I ran away to ask my mother, and -she no more than laughed at me. 'You silly child,' says mother, quite -as if there had never been a fool till now; 'when the law getteth hold -of a thing, there be only two places for to find it in.' 'Two places, -mother! What two places?' said I, without construction. 'Why, the -right-hand or the left-hand pocket of a lawyer's breeches,' mother -answered, just as if she had served all her time with a tailor. Now, -don't laugh, Mr. Overshute; it is true, every word as I tell you." - -"Ay, that her be," cried Cripps, with a smack of one hand on the -other. "Your mother is a wonderful woman for truth and sense, my -deary." - -"Well, well," replied Mary, with a broad knowing smile, as much as to -say, "You had better try her" "at her time of life her ought to be, if -ever they seek to attain it. So I acted according to mother's -directions, letting her always speak foremost. And between us we got -Master Kale to go, on his legs, all the way to Oxford with the hope of -a lift back with you, Master Cripps; but, late as you was, he were -later. He carried a letter from Mrs. Fermitage, couched in the -thirtieth person, to Mrs. Luke Sharp of Cross-Duck House, the very one -as sent that good book back. Master's sister have felt below contempt -towards her since that time, and in dignity could do no otherwise. And -now she put it short and sharp, as no less could be expected--and word -for word can I say of it-- - -"'Mrs. Fermitage has the honour of presenting her compliments to Mrs. -Sharp, and begs to express her surprise at the strange retention by -Mrs. S. of a pair of valuable silk stockings, which are the property -of Mrs. F. If they are not in use, it is begged that they may be -returned by the bearer.--Postscript: Mrs. F. takes this opportunity of -acknowledging the return of a book, which, being filled only with the -word of God, was perhaps of less practical value to Mrs. S. than silk -stockings appear to be.' - -"'That will fetch them,' said my mother; 'if they be in the house, -that will fetch them, ma'am. No lady could stand against them -inawindows.' And, sure enough, back they come by Mr. Kale, about an -hour after you left our house, sir. It seems that Mr. Luke Sharp was -gone to dine with the Corporation, or likely they never would have -come at all. And they never would have come at all, because Mrs. Sharp -could not have found them, if it hadn't been that Master Sharp, the -boy they think such wonders of, just happened to come in from -shooting, where the whole of his time he spends. He found his mother -in the hystrikes of a heart too full for tears, as she expressed it -bootifully to both cook and housemaid; and they pointed to the letter, -and he read it; and he were that put out, that Master Kale, seeing the -two big barrels of his gun, were touched in his conscience, and ran -away and got under the mangle. What happened then, he were afeard to -be sure of; but the cook and the housemaid brought him out, and they -locked him in, to eat a bit, which he did with trembles of -thankfulness. And, almost afore he had licked his knife as clean as he -like to leave it, that wicked young man he kicked open the door, and -flung a parcel at him. - -"'Tell your d----d missus,' he says--your Worship, I hopes no offence to -the statues--'tell her,' he says, 'that her rubbish is there! And add, -without no compliments, that a lady of her birth should a' known -better than to insult another lady so!'" - -"Well done, Kit Sharp!" exclaimed Overshute. "I rather admire him for -that. Not that he ought to have sworn so, of course. But I like a -young fellow to get in a rage when he thinks that his mother is -trampled on." - -"Then you might a' been satisfied with him, sir. In a rage he were, -and no mistake! So much so that our Mr. Kale made off by the quickest -door out of the premises. But the cook, she ran after him out to the -steps, when there was the corners between them, and she begged him not -to give a bad account, but to put a Christian turn to it. And she told -poor Tummuss that she had a manner of doing veal fit to surprise him; -and if he could drop in on Sunday week, he might go home the wiser. -The Lord knows how she hit so quick upon his bad propensities; for he -do pay attention to his victuals, whatever his other feelings be. -However, away he come at last; and I doubt if he goeth in a hurry -again. - -"Of course he knowed better than give the broken handles of his -message. It is only the boys and the girls does that, for the pleasure -of vexing their betters. Master Kale sent his parcel in by me, -together with Mrs. Sharp's compliments; leaving the truth in the -kitchen to strengthen, and follow to the parlour, as the cat comes in. -And so master's sister, she put out her hand all covered with rings, -and no shaking; and I makes my best entry just like this, excusing -your presence, Mr. Russel, sir; and she nod to me pleasantly, and take -it. 'Mary, you may go,' she said; and for sure, I am not one of those -who linger. - -"There happened, however, to be a new candle full of thieves and -guttering; and being opposite a looking-glass made it more -reproachful. So back I turned by the corner of a screen, for to right -it without disturbance. I had no more idea, bless you, Master Cripps, -of cooriosity, than might have happened to yourself, sir! But I pulled -a pair of scissors out of my pocket, no snuffers being handy; and then -I heer'd a most sad groan. - -"To my heart it went, like a clap of thunder, having almost expected -it, which made it worse; and back I ran to do my dooty, if afforded -rightly. And sure enough there was poor Mrs. Fermitage afell back well -into the long-backed chair, with her legs out straight, and her hands -to her forehead, and a pair of grey stockings laid naked on her lap! -'Is it they things, ma'am? Is it they?' I asked, and she put up her -chin to acknowledge it. By the way they were lying upon her lap, I was -sure that she was vexed with them. 'Oh, Mary,' she cried out; 'oh, -Mary Hookham, I am both as foolish and a wicked woman, if ever in the -world there was one!' - -"So deeply was I shocked by this, master's own sister, and a mint of -money, going the wrong way to kingdom come--that I give her both ends -of the smelling-bottle, open, and running on her velvet gown, as -innocent as possible. 'Oh, you wicked, wicked girl!' she says, coming -round, before I could stop; 'do you know what it cost a yard, you -minx?' - -"This gave me good hopes of her, being so natteral. Twice the price -comes always into ladies' minds, when damage is; if anybody can be -made to pay. But it did not become me to speak one word, as you see, -Mr. Russel, and Master Cripps. And there was my reward at once. - -"'I must have a magistrate,' she cries; 'a independent justice of the -peace. Not my poor brother--too much of him already. Where is that boy -Overshute?' she says, saving, of course, your Worship's presence. 'I -heered he were gone to that low carrier's. Mary, run and fetch him!'" - -"My brother to be called a low carrier!" young Esther exclaimed, with -her hand on her heart. "What carrier is to Compare with him?" - -"Never you mind, cheel," answered Cripps, with a smile that shone like -a warming-pan; "the womens may say what they pleases on me, so long as -I does my dooty by 'em. Squaze the lemon for his Worship, afore un -goeth." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -QUITE ANOTHER PAIR OF SOCKS! - - -Mr. Overshute had always been on good terms with Mrs. Fermitage, his -"advanced ideas" marching well with her political sentiments, so far -as she had any. And upon a still more tender subject, peace and -good-will throve between them. The lady desired no better suitor for -her niece than Russel Overshute, and had laboured both by word and -deed to afford him fair opportunity. Moreover, it was one of her great -delights, when time went heavily with her, to foster a quiet little -fight between young Russel and his mother. Those two, though filled -with the deepest affection and admiration for each other, could -scarcely sit half an hour together without a warm argument rising. The -late Mr. Overshute had been for years a knight of the shire, and for -some few months a member of the Tory Government; and this conferred on -his widow, of course, authority paramount throughout the county upon -every political question. How great, then, was her indignation, to -find subversive and radically erroneous principles coming up, where -none but the best seed had been sown. Three generations ago, there had -been a very hasty Overshute; but he had been meted with his own -measure, and his balance struck upon the block. This had a wholesome -influence on the family, while they remembered it; and child after -child had been brought up with the most correct opinions. But here was -the young head of the house, with a stiff neck, such as used to be -adjusted in a nick upon Tower-hill. Mrs. Overshute therefore spent -much of her time in lamenting, and the rest in arguing. - -For none of these things Mrs. Fermitage cared. With her, the idea of -change was free. She had long rebelled against her brother's dictation -of the Constitution, and believed they were rogues, all the lot of -them, as her dear good husband used to say. "Port-wine Fermitage" went -too far when he laid down this law for the females. Without a particle -of ill-meaning, he did a great deal of mischief. - -Now Mrs. Fermitage sat well up, in a chair that had been newly -stuffed. She was very uncomfortable; and it made her cross, because -she was a good-sized woman. She kept on turning, but all for the -worse; and her mind was uneasy at her brother's house. The room was -gone dark, and the lights going down, while Miss Mary Hookham was -revelling in the mansion of the Carrier. Nobody cared to hurry for the -sake of anybody else, of course; and Mrs. Fermitage could not see what -the good of all her money was. - -The lady was all the more vexed with others, because her own -conscience was vexed with her; and as Overshute came with his quick, -firm step, she spoke to him rather sharply. - -"Well, Russel Overshute, there was a time when you would not have left -me to sit in this sad way by myself all the evening. But that was when -I had pretty faces near me. I must not expect such attentions now!" - -"My dear Mrs. Fermitage, I had no idea that you were even in the -house. The good Squire sent me a very nice dinner; but you did not -grace it with your presence." - -"And for a very good reason, Russel. I have on my mind an anxiety -which precludes all idea of eating." - -"Oh, Mrs. Fermitage, never say that! You have been brought up too -delicately." - -"Russel, I believe that is too true. The world has conspired to spoil -me. I seem to be quite in a sad position, entirely for the sake of -others. Now, look at me, Russel; and just tell me what you think." - -Overshute always obeyed a lady in little things of this kind. He -looked at Mrs. Fermitage, which really was a pleasant thing to do; and -he thought to himself that he never had seen a lady of her time of -life more comfortable, nicely fat, and thoroughly well dressed and -fed. - -"My opinion is," he proceeded with a very pretty salaam and smile, -"that you never looked better in your life, ma'am! And that is a very -great deal to say!" - -"Well, Russel, well," she answered, rising in good old fashion, and -curtsying; "your opinions have not spoiled your manners, whatever your -dear mother may say. You always were a very upright boy; and you -always say exactly what you think. This makes your opinion so -valuable. I shall shake off ten years of my life. But I really was -quite low-spirited, and down at heart, when you came in. I fear that I -have not quite acted for the best, entirely as I meant to do so. You -remember that horrible state of things, nearly two months ago, and my -great distress?" - -"At the time of that wretched inquest? Yes; you were timid, as well -you might be." - -"It was not only that. But the weather was so cold that I scarcely -knew what I was doing at all. Hard weather is to me as it is to a -plant, a delicate fern, or something. My circulation no longer is -correct; even if it goes on at all. I scarcely can answer for what I -am doing when they put me into cold rooms and bitter draughts. I feel -that the organs of my face are red, and that every one is looking at -me. And then such a tingle begins to dawn through the whole of my -constitution, that to judge me by ordinary rules is barbarous and -iniquitous." - -"To be sure, to be sure!" answered Overshute, laying one finger on his -expressive nose, and wondering what was next to come. - -"Yes, and that is the manner in which justice is now administered. The -canal was frozen, and the people of the inn grudged a quarter of a -hundredweight of coal. The people at the yards had put it up so, that -it would have been wrong to encourage them. I had ordered my own -stumps to be burned up, and the flower-baskets, and so on. Anything -rather than order coals, till the swindling dealers came down again. -And the Coroner sided with the price of coals, because he had three -top-coats on. The jury, however, with their teeth all chattering, -wanted only to be done and go. They were only too glad, when any -witness failed to answer when called upon; and having all made up -their minds outside, they were shivering to declare them. I speak now, -from what I heard afterwards." - -"You speak the bare truth, Mrs. Fermitage. You have the best -authority. The foreman is your chimney-sweep." - -"Yes; and that made him feel the cold the more. But you should see him -on a Sunday, Russel. He is so respectable, and his nails so white. I -will not listen to a word against him; and he valued my custom, on his -oath he did. 'What verdict does Missus desire?' he asked. And he made -all the rest go accordingly. Nobody knows what they might have sworn, -without a clever man to guide them." - -"Of course. What can you expect? But still, you have something new to -tell me?" - -"Well, Russel, new or old, here it is. And you must bear in mind how I -felt, and what everybody was saying. In the first place, then, you -must remember that there was a great deal said about a pair of my silk -stockings. Now, I shrank particularly from having an intimate matter -of that sort made the subject of public gossip. It was neither -becoming, nor ladylike, to drag little questions of my wardrobe into -the eye of the nation so. Already it was too much to know that a pair -of such articles had been found bearing my initials. Most decidedly I -refused, and I am sure any lady would do the same, to go into a hard -cold witness-box, and under the eyes of some scores of males proclaim -my complicity with such things. If I had seen it my duty, I would have -endeavoured to conquer my feelings; but of course I took it all for -granted that everything was too clear already. And my dear brother! I -thought of him; and thought of every one, except myself. Could I do -more, Russel Overshute?" - -"Indeed, my dear madam, I do not see how. You would have come forward, -if necessary. But you did not see any necessity." - -"Much more than that. There was much more than that. There was my duty -to my brother, stronger than even to my niece. He is getting elderly; -and for me to be printed as proving anything against his daughter, -would surely have been too much for him. He looked to me so for -consolation, and some one to say kind words to him, that to find me in -evidence against him might have been his death-blow. No consideration -for myself or my own feelings had the weight of a rose-leaf with me. -In the breach I would have stood, if I had followed my own wishes. But -my duty was to curb myself. You are following me, Russel, carefully?" - -"Word for word, as you say it, madam; so far as my poor wits allow." - -"Very well, then. I have made it quite clear. That is the beauty of -having to explain to clever people." - -"I thank you for the compliment," replied Overshute, with a puzzled -look; "but I have not earned it; for I cannot see that you have told -me anything that I did not know some weeks ago. It may be my -stupidity, of course; but I thought that something had occurred quite -lately." - -"Oh yes, to be sure! It was only to-day! I meant to have told you that -first of all. I was grossly insulted. But I am so forgiving that I had -forgotten it--quite forgotten it, until you happened to speak of it. A -peculiarly insolent proceeding on the part of poor Mrs. Sharp, it -appears--or, perhaps, some one for her; for everybody says that she -really now has no mind of her own. She did not write me one single -line, although I had written politely to her; and she sent me a -message--I am sure of it--too bad to be repeated. No one would tell me -what it was; which aggravates it to the last degree. I assure you I -have not been so upset for years; or, at any rate, not since poor -Grace was lost. And about that, unless I am much mistaken, that very -low, selfish, and plotting person, knows a great deal more than we -have ever dreamed. It would not surprise me in the least, especially -after what happened today, to find Mrs. Sharp at the bottom of all of -it. At any rate, she has aroused my suspicion by her contemptible -insolence. And I am not a person to drop a thing." - -"Why, what has she done?" asked Overshute once more; while in spite of -impatience he could scarcely help smiling at poor Mrs. Fermitage's -petty wrath and frequent self-contradiction. - -"What she did was this. She sent me back, not even packed in nice -white paper, not even sprinkled with eau de Cologne, not even -washed--what do you think of that?--but rolled up anyhow in brown -paper, the same as a drayman would use for his taps--oh, Russel, would -you ever believe it!" - -"Certainly it seems very unpolite. But what was it she sent back to -you?" - -"Not even the article I expected! Not even that ingredient of costume -which I had lent poor Gracie, very nice and pretty ones--but an old -grey pair of silken-hose, disgraceful even to look at! It is true that -they bear my initials; but I had discarded them long ago." - -"What a strange thing!" cried Overshute, flushed with quick -excitement. "How reckless we were at the inquest! We had made up our -minds without evidence, on the mere faith of coincidence. And you--you -have never taken the trouble to look into this point until now--and -now perhaps quite by accident! We were told that you had recognised -the stockings; and it turns out that you never even saw them. It is -strange and almost wicked negligence." - -"I have told you my motives. I can say no more," exclaimed Mrs. -Fermitage, with her fine fresh colour heightened by shame or anger. -"Of course, I felt sure--who could fail to do so?--that the stockings -found with my name on them must be the pair I had lent my niece. It -seemed most absurd that I should have to see them. It was more than my -nerves could bear; and the Coroner was not so unmanly as to force me. -Pray, did you go and see everything, sir?" - -"Mrs. Fermitage, I am the very last person who has any right to -reproach you. I failed in my duty, far more than you in yours. In a -man, of course, it was a thousand times worse. There is no excuse for -me. I yielded to a poor unmanly weakness. I wished to keep my memory -of the poor dear, as I had seen her last. I should have considered -that the poor frail body is not our true identity----" - -"Quite so, of course. And therefore, what was the use of your going to -see it? No, no, you behaved very well, Russel Overshute; and so did I, -if it comes to that. Nobody can be quite blameless, of course; and we -are told in the Bible not to hope for it. If we all do our duty -according to our inner lights, and so on, the Apostle can say no great -harm of us, in his rudest moment to the ladies." - -"Let us settle that we both have done our best," said Russel very -sadly; knowing how far from the truth it was, but seeing the folly of -arguing. - -"And now will you tell me, what made you send for those silk -ingredients of costume so suddenly; and then show them to me?" - -"With pleasure, dear Russel. You understand me, when no one else has -any sympathy. I sent for them, or at least for what I fully expected -to be the ones, because an impertinent young woman, foolishly trusted -with very good keys, gave me notice to go, last evening. Of course she -will fly before I have a chance of finding how much she has -stolen--they all take very good care to do that; and knowing what the -spirit of the age is--dress, dress, fal-lals, ribbons, heels in the -air, and so on--I made up my mind to have a turn out to-day, and see -how much they had left me. No man can imagine, and scarcely any woman, -all the vexations I had to go through. Five pair and a half of -silk-hose were missing, as well as a thousand more important things; -and they all backed up one another. They stood me out to my face that -I never had more than eight pair of the Christchurch-Tom -stockings--excuse me for being so coarse, my dear; whereas I had got -the receipt for twelve pair from the man that sold them with the big -Tom bells on immediately above the instep. I happened to remember that -I had lent my darling Gracie pair No. 12, numbered, as all of them -were, downright. And so to confound those false-tongued hussies, I -came over here in search of them. Finding that they were not here--for -the lawyers, of course, steal everything--I was not going to be beaten -so. I sent as polite a letter as, after her shameful rudeness, any -lady could write, to Mrs. Luke Sharp--a poor woman who expected every -halfpenny of my dear husband's savings. How far she deserves them, you -have seen to-day. And sooner would I burn myself, like a sooty widow, -with all my goods evaporating, than ever leave sixpence for her to -clutch, after such behaviour. Russel, you will remember this. You are -my executor." - -"My dear Mrs. Fermitage, I pray you in no way to be excited. We have -not heard all of the story, and we know that servants who are of a -faithful kind exaggerate slights to their masters. It was one of the -Squire's old servants who went. Your own would, perhaps, have known -better. But now, may I see the things Mrs. Sharp sent you?" - -"You may. And you may take them, if you like. Or rather, I should say -that I beg you to take them. They ought to be in your custody. Will -you oblige me by taking them, Russel, and carefully inspecting them? -For that, of course, you must have daylight. Take them in the paper, -just as they came, and keep them until I ask for them. They can be of -no importance, because they are not what I lent to Gracie. Except for -my name on them, I am sure that I never could have remembered them. -They were darned in the days when I was poor. How often I wish that I -still were poor! Then nobody wanted to plot against me, and even to -steal my stockings! Oh, Russel, do you think they have murdered my -darling because she was to have my money?" - -"No, I think nothing of the kind! I believe that our darling Grace is -alive; and I believe it tenfold since I saw these things! I am not -very old in the ways of the world; and my judgment has always been -wrong throughout. But my faith is the same as the grand old Squire's, -though forty years of life behind him. I firmly believe that, blindly -as we ourselves have managed everything, all will be guided aright for -us; and happiness, even in this world, come. Because, though we have -done no great good, we have done harm to no one; and the Lord in -heaven knows it! Also, He knows that we trust in Him, so far as the -trouble allows us. Very well; I will take these stockings home. You -shall hear from me on Monday. I believe that our Grace is alive; and -God will enable me to deliver her! Please Him, I will never leave off -till then!" - -The young man looked so grand and strong in his faith, and truth, and -righteousness, that the elderly lady said no word, but let her eyes -flow, and kissed him. He placed the stockings in an inner pocket, -carelessly wrapped in their paper; and he rode home apace to please -his mother; and having a cold on him from all his wettings, he -perspired freely; and at every stretch of his galloping horse he was -absorbing typhus fever. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -SUO SIBI BACULO. - - -In April, when the sunny buds were showing forth their little frills; -and birds, that love to hop sideways and try the toleration of the -sprays that they are picking at, were almost too busy to chirp, and -hung as happily as possible upside down, shaking the flutter of young -green lace; while at the same time (for it is a season of great -coincidence) pigs reared aloft little corkscrew tails, and scorning -their nose-rings, employed them as thimbles for making a punch in the -broidery of turf; also when--if the above is not enough--ducks and -geese, and cocks and hens, and even the dogs (who regard green grass -as an emetic mainly) were all, without knowing it, beginning to wag -themselves as they walked or waddled, and to shine in the sun, and to -look very large in their own eyes and those of their consorts; neither -was there any man who could ride a horse, without knowing how--unless -he first had starved him;--at this young jump of the year and of life, -Grace Oglander wanted to go for a walk. - -She had not by any means been buried in the haunted quarry; neither -had she as yet required burial in any place. On the contrary, here she -walked more blooming and lovely than even her custom was; and the -spring sun glistening upon the gold letters of her tombstone at -Beckley, ordered by her good Aunt Fermitage--the same sun (without any -strain of his eyes at all likely to turn him to a Strabo) was -pleasantly making and taking light in the fluctuations of her growing -hair. - -Her bright hair (which had been so cruelly cropped) instead of being -the worse for the process, was waving and glowing again in vast -multiplicity of vigour; like a specimen golden geranium shorn to -double the number of its facets; and the blue in the spring of her -eyes was enough to dissatisfy the sun with his own sky. However, he -showed no discontent, but filled the young wood with cheerful rays, -and the open glades with merriment, and even the sombre heart of -labouring man with streaks of liveliness. For here were comforts that -come in, without the eye considering them; and pleasures, which when -thought of fly; and delicate delights, that have no idea of being -delightful. - -Hereupon the proper thing is for something very harsh to break in, and -discomfit all the wandering vision of earthly happiness. But the -proper thing, in the present instance, showed its propriety by -absence. Nothing broke the flow of sunshine and the eddy of soft -shade! unless it were a little ruffle of the south wind seeking leaves -before they were quite ready; or the rustle of a rabbit, anxious about -his family; or the flutter of a bird, uncertain where to stand and -sing his best. - -Grace (without a thought of what her own thoughts were or whether she -had any mind for thinking) rambled on, as a school-girl does when the -hours of school are over. Every single fall or rise of nature's work -was kind to her, and led her into various veins of inductive -unphilosophy. The packing and storing of last year's leaves, as if -exceeding precious, gathered together by the wind and land in some -rich rustling corner; the fitting of these into one another (for fear -of losing one of them) wonderfully compact, as if with the hammer of a -gold-beater, or the unknown implement wherewith a hen packs up her -hatched egg-shells; the stiff upstanding of fine young stuff, hazel, -ash, and so on, tapering straight as a fishing-rod, and knobbing out -on either side with scarcely controllable bulges; over, and above, and -throughout all, and sensible of their largeness, the spreading -quietude of great trees, just breathing their buds on the air again, -but not in a hurry (as in young days) to rush into perils of -leafiness--pleased with all these proofs of soft revival and tender -movement, the fair maid almost forgot her own depression and -perplexities. - -When howling winter was put to the rout and banished underground; and -the weather, perhaps, might be hoped to behave as decently as an -English spring, most skittish of seasons, should order it; and the -blue ray of growth (which predominates then, according to the -spectroscopists) was pouring encouragement on things green; how was a -girl in her own spring yet, to strive against all such influence? - -At any rate Grace made no attempt to do anything of the kind; but -wandered at her own sweet will, within the limits of her own parole. -She knew that she was in seclusion here, by her father's command, for -her own good; and much as she yearned, from time to time, to be at -home, with all the many things she was so fond of, she was such a -dutiful child, and so loving, that she put her own wishes by, and -smiled and sighed, instead of pouting. It could not be very long now, -she was sure, until her father should come home, and call for her, as -he had promised, and take her once more to beloved Beckley, after this -mournful exile. - -Full as she was of all these thoughts, and heeding her own ways but -little, so long as she kept within the outer ring of fence allowed to -her, she fell into a little stupid fright, as she called it -afterwards; for which there was no one but herself to blame. Only -yesterday that good Miss Patch (her governess and sweet guardian) had -particularly begged her to be careful; because the times were now so -bad that lawless people went everywhere. Miss Patch herself had heard -several noises she could not at all account for; and while she -considered it quite a duty to trace up everything to its proper -source, and absolutely confide in Providence, whose instrumentality is -to be traced by all the poor instruments seeking it, still there are -times when it cannot be done; and then the right thing is to keep -within sight or call of a highly respectable man. - -This was exactly what Grace might have done, and would have done, but -for the tempting day; for a truly respectable man had been near her, -when first she began her little walk; a man whom she had beheld more -than once, but always at a little distance; a tall stout man, -according to her distant ideas of him, always busy in a quiet way, and -almost grudging the time to touch his broad-flapped hat without -lifting his head, when he saw her in the woodland. Grace had never -asked him who he was, nor been within talking distance of him; at -which she was almost surprised, when she thought how glad, as a rule, -are all Oxfordshire workmen to have a good excuse for leaving off. -However, she was far beyond him now, when she met another man who -frightened her. - -This was a fellow of dark complexion, dressed in a dirty fustian suit, -and bearing on his shoulder a thick hedge-stake, from which hung a -number of rabbit-skins. His character might be excellent; but his -appearance did not recommend him to the confidence of the public. -Grace shrank aside, but his quick eyes had spied her; and, indeed, she -almost feared from his manner, that he had been on the watch for her. -So she put the best face on it, and tried to pass him, without showing -any misgivings. - -But the rabbit-man was not to be thus defrauded of his right to good -society. With a quick sharp turn he cast off the skins from his staff, -and stretched that slimy implement across the way with one hand; while -he held forth the other caressingly, and performed a pretty little -caper. - -"Allow me to pass, if you please," said Grace, attempting to look very -resolute; "these are our grounds. You are trespassing." - -"Now, my purty young lady," said the rabbit-man, coming so close that -she could not fly, "you wouldn't be too hard, would you now? I sees a -great many young maids about--but Lor' there, what be they to compare -with you!" - -"I am sure that you do not mean any harm," replied Grace, though with -much inward doubt: "nobody ever does any harm to me; but every one is -so kind to me. My father is so good to all who get into any trouble. I -am not worth robbing, Mr. Rabbit-man; honest as you are, no doubt. But -I think that I can find a shilling, for you to take home to your -family." - -"Now, Missy, sweet Missy, when once I seen you, how could I think of a -shilling--or two? You was coming out herefor to kiss me, I know; the -same as I dreamed about last night. Lor' bless them bootiful eyes and -lips, the most massionary man as ever was a'most, would sooner have a -kiss, than a crown, of 'em!" - -"You insolent fellow! how dare you speak to me in this manner? Do you -know who I am? Do you know who my father is?" - -"No, Missy; but I dessay a thunderin' beak, as have sent me to prison; -and now I have got you in prison too. No comin' out, wi'out paying of -your fine, my dear." The dirty scamp, with an appreciative grin, laid -hold of poor Grace's trembling hand, and drew her towards him; while -she tried vainly to shriek, for her voice had forsaken her--when -bodily down went the rabbit-man, felled by a most inconsiderate blow. -He dropped so suddenly, that he fetched poor Grace to her knees, by -his violent grasp of her; and when he let go, she could not get up for -a moment, because her head went round. Then two strong hands were put -into hers; and she rose, and faced a young gentleman. - -In her confusion, and sense of vile indignity, she did the natural -thing. She staggered away to a tree, and spread both hands before her -eyes, and burst forth sobbing, as if her heart would break. Instead of -approaching to comfort her, the young man applied himself first to -revenge. He espied on the path the stick of the prostrate rabbit-man, -and laid hold of it. Then, striving to keep his conscience clear, and -by no means hit a man on the ground, he seized the poor dealer in fur -by the neck, and propped him well up in a sapling fork. Having him -thus well situated for penal operations, without any question of -jurisdiction, or even of the merits of the case, he proceeded to -exhaust the utility of the stick, by breaking it over its owner's -back. The calm wood echoed with the sound of wooden thumps, and the -young buds trembled at the activity of a stick. - -"Lor' a' mussy, a' mussy!" cried the rabbit-man. "You be gooin' -outside of the bargain, sir!" - -"Oh, don't!--oh, please don't!" Grace exclaimed, running forth from -her retirement. "I dare say he did not know any better. He may have -had a little too much beer. Poor fellow, he has had quite enough! Oh, -stop, do stop, for my sake!" - -"For nothing else--in the world--would I stop," said the youth, who -was breathless with hitting so hard, and still looking yearningly at -the stick, now splintered by so much exercise; "but if you beg him -off, he gets off, of course--though he has not had half enough of it. -You vile black rascal, will you ever look at a young lady in your life -again?" - -"Oh, no, so--oh, no, sir--so help me--" cried the rabbit-man, rubbing -himself all over. "Do 'ee let me whisper a word to you." - -"If I see your filthy sneaking face two seconds more, I'll take a new -stick to you, and a much tougher one. Out of my sight with your -carrion!" - -Black George, with amazement and fury, gazed at the stern and -threatening countenance. Then seeing the elbow beginning to lift, he -hobbled, as fast as his bruises allowed, to his bundle of skins in the -brushwood. Then with a whimper and snivel he passed the broken staff, -now thrown at him, through his savoury burden, and with exaggerated -limps departed. - -"See if I don't show this to your governor," he muttered, as he turned -back and scowled, when out of sight and hearing; "I never were took in -so over a job, in all my life afore, were I! One bull for a hiding -like that!" he grumbled, as he pulled out a sovereign, and looked at -it. "Five bull would hardly cover it. Why, the young cove can't a' -been told nort about it. A scurvy joke--a very scurvy joke. I ain't -got a bone in me as don't ache!" - -Leaving him thus to pursue his departure, young Christopher Sharp, -with great self-content at the good luck of this exploit, turned -towards Grace, who was trembling and blushing; and he trembled and -blushed in his turn at her. - -"I am so sorry I have frightened you," he said in the most submissive -way; "I have done you more harm than good, I fear. I should have known -better. But for the moment, I really could not command myself. I hope -you will not despise me for it." - -"Despise you! Can I ever thank you? But I am not fit to do anything -now. I think I had better go home if you please. I am not likely to be -annoyed again. And there is a good man in a field half-way." - -"To be sure, you know best," the young man answered, cooling into -disappointment. "Still, I may follow at a distance, mayn't I? The -weather looks quite as if it would be dark. And at this time of year, -scarcely anybody knows. There seem to be tramps almost everywhere. But -I am sure I do not wish to press myself. I can go on with the business -that brought me here. I am searching for the true old wind-flower." - -"Oh, are you?" said Grace; "how exceedingly lucky! I can show you -exactly where to find it; if only you could manage to come to-morrow." - -"To-morrow? Let me see--to-morrow! Yes, I believe I have no -engagements. But will you not be afraid--I mean--after that -blackguard's behaviour to-day? Not, of course, that he should be -thought of twice--but still--oh, I never can express myself." - -"I understand every word you would say," the young lady answered -decisively; "and I never mean to wander so far again. Still, when I -know that you are botanising; or rather, I mean when a gentleman is -near--but I also can never express myself. You never must come--oh, I -mean--good-bye! But I feel that you ought to be careful, because that -bad man may lie in wait for you." - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -MISS PATCH. - - -That evening Grace made one more trial to procure a little comfort in -her own affairs. In the dark low parlour of the cottage, where she had -lived for the last three months, with only Miss Patch and a deaf old -woman for company and comfort, she sat by the fire and stitched hard, -to abide her opportunity. At the corner of the table sat the good Miss -Patch, with her spectacles on, and occasionally nodding over her -favourite author, Ezekiel. - -It was impossible for anybody to look at Miss Patch, and believe in -anything against her high integrity. That lofty nose, and hard-set -mouth, and the fine abstracted yet benevolent gaze of those hollow -grey eyes, were enough to show that here was a lady of strict moral -principle and high sense of duty. Incorruptible and grandly honest, -but prickly as a hedgehog with prejudice, she could not be driven into -any evil course, and required no leading into what she thought the -right one. And the right course to her was always the simplest of all -things to discover. Because it was that which led most directly to the -glory of God at the expense of man. Anything that would smite down -pride, and overthrow earthly schemes, and abase the creature before -the Creator--that to her mind was the thing commanded; and if it -combined therewith a cut at "papal arrogance," and priestly influence, -then the command was as delightful as it was imperative. - -This tall and very clear-minded lady was, by an in and out sort of -way, related to Squire Oglander. She called him her "brother;" and the -Squire once (to comfort her in a vile toothache) had gone so far as to -call her his "sister." Still that, to his mind, was a piece of -flattery, not to be remembered when the tooth was stopped;--from no -pride on his part; but because of his ever-abiding execration of her -father--the well-known Captain Patch. - -Captain Patch was the man who married the last Squire Oglander's -second wife, that is to say, our good Squire's stepmother, after the -lady had despatched her first husband, by uneasy stages, to a better -world. Captain Patch took her for her life-interest under the Oglander -settlement; and sterling friends of his declared him much too cheap at -the money. But the Oglanders took quite the contrary view, and hated -his name while he drew their cash. Yet the Captain proceeded to have a -large family, of whom this Hannah Patch was the eldest. - -A godly father (as a general rule) has godless children; and happily -the converse of that rule holds true. The children of a godless father -(scared by the misery they have seen), being acquitted of the fifth -commandment, frequently go back to the first. And so it befell with -almost all of that impious fellow's family. Nevertheless the Squire, -believing in the "commandment with promise," as well as the -denunciation at the end of the second, kept himself clear of the -Patches, so far as good manners and kindness permitted him, Miss -Patch, knowing how good she was, had keenly resented this prejudice -after vainly endeavouring to beat it down. Also she felt--not -ill-will--but still a melancholy forgiveness, and uneasiness about the -present position of Grace's poor mother, who had died in her sins, -without any apology to Miss Patch. - -However, put all these things as one may (according to constitution), -this lady was very good in her way, and desired to make all others -good. There was not one faulty point about her, so far as she could -discover it; and her rule of conduct was to judge her own doings by a -higher standard than was to be hoped for of any other person. -Therefore of course, for other persons she could judge what was right -and godly infinitely better than they could. - -"Oh, Aunty," said Grace, by way of coaxing, having found this of good -service ere now; "Aunty, don't you wish it was tea-time now?" - -"All meals come in their proper season. We should be grateful for -them; but not greedy." - -"Oh, but, Aunty, you would not call it greedy to be hungry, I should -hope. And you would be so hungry, if you only knew. Ah, but you won't -get me to tell you though. I have always been celebrated for making -them. And this time I have quite surpassed myself. Now, how much will -you offer me to tell you what it is?" - -"Grace, you are frivolous!" Miss Patch answered, yet with a slight -inclination of her nose towards the brown kitchen where the wood-fire -burned. "If our food is wholesome, and vouchsafed in proportion to our -daily wants, we should lift up our hearts and be thankful. To let our -minds dwell upon that which is a bodily question only, tends to -degrade them, and leads us to confound the true end--the glory of our -Maker--with the means to that end, which are vulgarly called -victuals." - -"Very well, Aunty, we will do with bread and butter. I only made my -Sally Lunns for you; and if they degrade your mind, I will give them -to Margery Daw, or the cottage with ten children, down at the bottom -of the wood. What a treat they will have, to be sure, with them!" - -"Not so, my dear! If you made them for me, I should fail in my duty if -I refused them. We are ordered to be kind and courteous and -long-suffering towards one another. And I know that you make them -particularly well. They are quite unfit for people in that lower -sphere of life. It would be quite sinful to tempt them so! They would -puff them up with vanity, and worldliness, and pride. But if you -insist upon my tasting them, my dear, in justice to your work I think -that you should see to the toasting. Poor Mrs. Daw smokes everything." - -"Of course she does. But I never meant to let her do them, Aunty. Only -I wanted to be quite sure first that you would oblige me by tasting -them." - -"My dear, I will do so, as soon as you please." The good lady shut up -Ezekiel, and waited. In a few minutes back came Grace, with all things -done to a nicety, each against each contending hotly whether the first -human duty were to drink choice tea or to eat Sally Lunns. Miss Patch -always saw her course marked out by special guidance, and devoutly -thus was enabled to act simultaneously. - -Grace took a little bit now and again to criticise her own handiwork, -while with her bright eyes she watched the relaxing of the rigid -countenance. "My dear," said Miss Patch, "they are excellent! and they -do the greatest credit to your gifts! To let any talent lie idle is -sinful. You might make a few every day, my dear." - -"To be sure I will, Aunty, with the greatest pleasure. I do love to do -anything that reminds me of my dear father! Oh, Aunty, will you tell -me something?" - -"Yes, Grace, anything you ask aright. Young girls, of course, must -submit to those whose duty it is to guide them. Undue curiosity must -be checked, as leading to perverse naughtiness. The principle, or want -of principle, inculcated now by bad education, can lead to nothing -else but ruin and disgrace. How different all was when I was young! My -gallant and spirited father, well known as a brave defender of his -country, would never have dreamed of allowing us to be inquisitive as -to his whereabouts. But all things are subverted now; filial duty is a -thing unknown." - -"Oh, but, Aunty, of course we never pretend to be half as good as you -were. Still I don't think that you can conclude that I do not love my -dear father, because I am not one bit afraid of him." - -"Don't cry, child. It is foolish and weak, and rebellious against -Divine wisdom. All things are ordered for our good." - -"Then crying must be ordered for our good, or we should be able to -help it, ma'am. But you can't call it 'crying,' when I do just what I -do. It is such a long and lonely time; and I never have been away more -than a week at a time from my darling father, until now; and now it is -fifteen weeks and five days since I saw him! Oh, it is dreadful to -think of!" - -"Very well, my dear, it may be fifty weeks, or fifty years, if the -Lord so wills. Self-command is one of the very first lessons that all -human beings must learn." - -"Yes, I know all that. And I do command myself to the very utmost. You -know that you praised me--quite praised me--yesterday; which is a rare -thing for you to do. What did you say then? Please not to retract, and -spoil the whole beauty of your good word." - -"No, my dear child, you need not be afraid. Whenever you deserve -praise, you shall have it. You saw an old sack with the name of -'Beckley' on it, and although you were silly enough to set to and kiss -it, as if it were your father, you positively did not shed one tear!" - -"For which I deserve a gold medal at least. I should like to have it -for my counterpane; but you sent it away most ruthlessly. Now, I want -to know, Aunty, how it came to be here--miles, leagues, longitudes, -away from darling Beckley?" - -Miss Patch looked a little stern again at this. She perceived that her -duty was to tell some stories, in a case of this kind, wherein the end -justified the means so paramountly. Still every new story which she -had to tell seemed to make her more cross than the one before; whether -from accumulated adverse score, or from the increased chances of -detection. - -"Sacks arrive and sacks depart," she answered, as if laying down a -dogma, "according to the decrees of Providence. Ever since the time of -Joseph, sacks have had their special mission. Our limited intelligence -cannot follow the mundane pilgrimage of sacks." - -"No, Aunty, of course, they get stolen so! But this particular sack I -saw had on it the name of a good honest man, one of the very best men -in Beckley, Zacchary Cripps, the Carrier. His name did bring things to -my mind so--all the parcels and good nice things that he carries as if -they were made of glass; and the way my father looks over the hedge to -watch for his cart at the turn of the lane; and his pretty sister Etty -sitting up as if she didn't want to be looked at; and old Dobbin -splashing along, plod, plod; and our Mary setting her cap at him -vainly; and the way he goes rubbing his boots, as if he would have -every one of the nails out; and then dearest father calling out, 'Have -you brought us Her Majesty's new crown, Cripps?' and Cripps, putting -up his hand like that, and grinning as if it was a grand idea, and -then slyly peeping round where the beer-jug hangs--oh, Aunty, shall I -ever see it all again?" - -"Well, Grace, you will lose very little if you don't. It is one of my -brother's worst failings that he gives away fermented liquor to the -lower orders inconsiderately. It encourages them in the bad habits to -which they are only too prone, even when discouraged." - -"Oh no, Aunty! Cripps is the soberest of men. And he does take his -beer with such a relish, it is quite a treat to see him. Oh, if I -could only see his old cart now, jogging along, like a man with one -prong!" - -"Grace! Miss Oglander! Your metaphor is of an excessively vulgar -description!" - -"Is it, Aunty? Then I am very sorry. I am sure I didn't mean any harm -at all. Only I was thinking of the way a certain one-legged fiddler -walks--but, Aunty, all this is so frivolous! With all the solemn -duties around us, Aunty----" - -"Yes, my dear, I do wish you would think a little more of them. Every -day I do my best. Your nature is not more corrupt than must be, with -all who have the sad _phronema sarkos_; but unhappily you always -exhibit, both in word and action, something so--I will not use at all -a harsh word for it--something so sadly unsolemn." - -"What can I do, Aunt? It really is not my fault. I try for five -minutes together to be solemn. And then there comes something or -other--how can I tell how?--that proves too much for me. My father -used to love to see me laugh. He said it was quite the proper thing to -do. And he was so funny (when he had no trouble) that without putting -anything into anybody's head, he set them all off laughing. Aunty, you -would have been amused to hear him. Quite in the quiet time, almost in -the evening, I have known my father make such beautiful jokes, without -thinking of them, that I often longed for the old horn lanthorn, to -see all the people laughing. Even you would laugh, dear Aunty, if you -only heard him." - -"The laughter of fools is the crackling of thorns. Grace, you are -nothing but a very green goose. Even a stray lamb would afford me -better hopes. But knock at the wall with the poker, my dear, that -Margery Daw may come in to prayers." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -RUTS. - - -There are few things more interesting than ruts; regarded at the -proper time, and in the proper manner. The artists, who show us so -many things unheeded by our duller selves, have dwelled on this -subject minutely, and shown their appreciation of a few good ruts. But -they are a little inclined sometimes to mark them too distinctly, -scarcely making due allowance for the vast diversity of wheels, as -well as their many caprices of wagging, according to the state of -their washers, the tug of the horse, and their own wearing, and a host -of other things. Each rut moreover has a voice of its own; not only in -its first formation, but at every period of depression in the muggy -weather, or rough rebellion in a fine black frost, and above all other -times in the loose insurrection of a thaw. There always is a bit of -something hard and something soft in it; jags that contradict all -things with a jerk; and deep subsidence, soft as flattery. - -There scarcely could be a finer sample of ruts than was afforded by a -narrow lane, or timber-track, at the extreme north-western outskirt of -Stow Forest. Everything here was favourable to the very finest growth -of ruts. The road had once been made, which is a necessary foundation -for any masterpiece of rut-work; it then had been left to maintain -itself, which encourages wholesome development. Another great -advantage was that the hard uniformity of straight lines had no chance -here of prevailing. For though the course was not so crooked, as in -some lanes it may have been, neither was there hedge, or rail, or -other mean constriction; yet some fine old trees insisted now and -then, from either side, upon their own grand right of way, and -stretched great arms that would sweep any driver, or horseman, -backward from his seat, unless he steered so as to double them. - -Now therefore to one of these corners came, from out the thicket of -underwood, a stout man with a crafty slouch, and a wary and suspicious -glance. He had thrown a sack over his long white smock, whether to -save it from brambles, or to cover its glare in the shady wood; for -his general aspect was that of a man who likes to see all things, but -not to be seen. And now as he stooped to examine the ruts at a point -where they clearly defined themselves, either from habit, or for -special reason, he kept as far back by the briary ditch as he could -without loss of near insight. - -This man, being a member of the great Cripps race--whether worthy, or -not, of that staunch lineal excellence--had an hereditary perception -of the right way to examine a rut. It would have been easy enough, -perhaps, in a lane of little traffic, to judge whether anything lately -had passed, with the weather and ground as usual. But to-day--the day -after what has been told of--both weather and ground had just taken a -turn, as abrupt as if both were feminine. The smile of soft spring was -changed into a frown, and the glad young buoyancy of the earth into a -stiff sort of feeling, not frozen or crisp, but as happens to a man -when a shiver of ague vibrates through a genial perspiration. To put -it more clearly, the wind had chopped round to the east, and was -blowing keenly--a masterful, strongly pronounced, and busily energetic -east wind, as superior to hypocrisy as it was to all claims of mercy. -At the sound and the feel of its vehement sweep, surprise and alarm -ran through the wood; and the nestling-places of the sun ruffled up -like a hen that calls her chicks to her. The foremost of the buds of -the tall trees shook; not as they shake to a west wind, but with a -sense of standing naked; the twigs that carried them flattened -upwards, having lost all pleasure; the branches, instead of bowing -kindly (as they do to any other wind), also went upward, with a stiff -cold back, and a hatred at being treated so. Many and many a little -leaf, still snug in its own overcoat, shrunk back, and preferred to -defer all the joys of the sky, if this were a sample of them. And many -and many a big leaf (thrust, without any voice of its own, on the -world) had no chance of sighing yet, but whistled on the wind, and -felt it piping through its fluted heart; and knowing what a -liver-coloured selvage must come round its green, bewailed the hour -that coaxed it forth from the notched, and tattered, and cast-off -frizzle, dancing by this time the wind knows where. - -Because the east wind does what no other wind of the welkin ever does. -It does not come from the good sky downward, bringing higher breath to -us; nor even on the level of the ancient things, spreading average -movement. This alone of all winds strikes from the face of the good -earth upward, sweeping the blush from the skin of the land, and -wrinkling all who live thereon. That is the time when the very best -man finds little to rejoice in; unless it be a fire of seasoned logs, -or his own contrariety; the fur of all animals (being their temper) -moves away and crawls on them; and even bland dogs and sweet horses -feel each several hair at issue with their well-brushed conscience. - -All of that may be true; and yet there may be so many exceptions. At -any rate, Master Leviticus Cripps looked none the worse for the whole -of it. His cheeks were of richly varied fibre, like a new-shelled -kidney-bean; his mouth (of a very considerable size) looked -comfortable and not hungry; and all around him there was an influence -tending to intimate that he had dined. - -For that he did not care as he should. He was not a man who allowed -his dinner to modify his character. The best streaky bacon and three -new-laid eggs had nurtured and manured his outer man, but failed to -improve him inwardly. Even the expression of his face was very -slightly mollified by a first-rate meal; though some of the corners -looked lubricated. - -"Hath a been by again, or hath a not?" whispered Tickuss to himself, -as he stared at a tangled web of ruts, and blessed the east wind for -confounding of them, so that a wheel could not swear to its own. The -east wind answered with a scolding dash, that cast his sack over his -head, and shook out his white smock, scattering over the view, like a -jack-towel on the washing-line. Acknowledging this salutation with a -curse, Leviticus gathered his sack more tightly, and bending one long -leg before him, stealthily peered awry at the wheel-tracks. This was -the way to discover whatever had happened last among them, instead of -looking across or along them, where the nicer shades would fail. - -At first he could make but little of it. The east wind, whirling last -year's leaves from the couches where the west had piled them, and -parching the flakes of the mud (as if exposed upon a scraper), had -made it a hard thing to settle the date of the transit even of a -timber dray. One of these had passed not long ago, with a great trunk -swinging and swagging on the road, and slurring the scollops of the -horse-track. - -Therefore Tickuss, for some time, looked less wise than usual, and -scratched his head. The brain replied, as it generally does, to this -soft local stimulant, so briskly in fact that the master soon was able -to clap both his hands into their natural home--the pockets of his -breeches--and thus to survey the scene, and grin. - -"Did 'ee think to do me, then, old brother Zak? Now did 'ee, did 'ee, -did 'ee? Ah, I were aborn afore you, Zak; or if I were not, it were -mother's mistake. Go along wi 'ee, Zak, go along wi' 'ee! Go home to -thy cat, and thy little kitten, Etty." - -He knew, by the track, that his brother had passed a good while ago, -or he would not have dared to speak in this rebellious vein. And what -he said next was even more disloyal. - -"Danged if I ain't a gude mind to hornstring that old hosebird of a -Dobbin; ay, and I wull too, if Zak cometh prowling round my place, -like this. If a didn't mane no trachery, why dothn't a come in, and -call for a horn of ale and a bite of cold bakkon. Ho, ho, we've a -pretty well stopped him of that, though. No Master Zak now; go thine -own ways. Keep thyzell to thyzell's the law of the land, to my -thinking." - -Now a year, or even six months ago, Leviticus Cripps would sooner have -lost a score of pigs than make such a speech, inhospitable, unnatural, -unbrotherly, and violently un-Crippsian. Nothing but his own bad -conscience (as he fell more and more away from honour and due esteem -for Beckley) could have suggested to him such a low and crooked view -of Zacchary. The Carrier was not, in any measure, spying or prowling, -or even watching. Such courses were out of his track altogether. -Rather would he have come with a fist, if the family honour demanded -it; and therewith have converted his brother's olfactory organ into -something loftier, as the medium of a sense of honesty. - -In bare point of fact the family honour demanded this vindication. But -the need had not as yet been conveyed to the knowledge of the -executive power. Zacchary had no suspicion at present of his brother's -fearful lapse. And the only thing that brought him down that lane, was -another stroke of business in the washing line. Squire Corser had -married a new sort of wife with a tendency towards the nobility; -wherefore a monthly wash was out of keeping with her loftier views, -though she had a fine kitchen-garden; and she cried, till the Squire -put the whole of it out, and sent it every week to Beckley. Hence a -new duty for Dobbin arose, which he faced with his usual patience, -simply reserving his right to travel at the pace he considered -expedient, and to have a stronger and deeper bottom stitched to his -old nose-bag. - -The first time the Carrier traversed that road, fraternal duty -impelled him to make all proper inquiries concerning the health of his -brother, and the character of his tap. But though the reply upon both -these points was favourable and pleasing, Zacchary met with so queer a -reception, that dignity and self-respect compelled him to vow that for -many a journey he would pass with a dry mouth, rather than turn in. Of -all the nephews and nieces, who loved to make him their own carrier, -by sitting astride perhaps two on each leg, and one on each oölitic -vamp, and shouting "Gee, gee," till he panted worse than Dobbin obese -with young saintfoin--likewise who always jumped up in his cart, and -laid hold of the reins and the whip even, and wore out the patience of -any other horse except the horse before them--of all these delightful -young pests, not one was now permitted to come near him. And not only -that, which alone was very strange, but even Susannah, the wife of -Leviticus, and sister-in-law of Zacchary, evidently had upon her -tongue laid a dumb weight of responsibility. Quite as if Zak were an -interloper, or an inquisitive stranger, thrusting a keen but -unjustified nose into things that were better without it. Susannah was -always a very good woman, and used to look up to Zacchary, because her -father was a basket-maker; and even now she said no harm; but still -there was something about her, when she muttered that she must go and -wash the potatoes, timid, and cold, and unhearty-like. - -The Carrier made up his mind that they all were in trouble about their -mortgage again; just as they were about six months back, when the land -was likely to be lost to them. And finding it not a desirable thing to -be called upon to contribute, he jogged well away from all such -tactics, with his pockets buttoned. Not that he would have grudged any -good turn to any one of his family; but that his strong common sense -allowed him no faith in a liar. And for many years he had known that -Tickuss was the liar of the family. - -Leviticus took quite a different view of the whole of this proceeding. -He was under no terror about his mortgage, for reasons as yet quite -private; and his thick shallow cunning, like an underground gutter, -was full of its own rats only. He was certain that Zak had suspected -him, in spite of the care he had taken to keep his wife and children -away from him; and believing this, he was certain also that Zak was -playing the spy on him. - -While he was meditating thus in his slow and turbid mind, and turning -away from the corner of the road towards his beloved pig-lairs, the -rattle of the sharp east wind was laden with a softer and heavier -sound--the hoofs of a horse upon sod and mud. Tickuss, with two or -three long strides, got behind a crooked tree, so as to hide or -exhibit himself, according to what should come to pass. - -What came to pass was a horse in the first place, of good family and -good feed; and on his back a man who shared in at least the latter -excellence. These two were not coming by the forest lane, but along a -quiet narrow track, which cut off many of its corners. To judge of the -two which looked the more honest, would have required another horse in -council with another man. At sight of this arrival Tickuss came forth, -and scraped humbly. - -"Don't stand there, like a monkey at a fair!" cried Mr. Sharp--for he -it was, and no mistake about him. "Am I to come through the brambles -to you? Can't you come up, like a man with his wits, where this -beastly wind doesn't blow so hard? Who can hear chaw-bacon talk off -there?" - -Leviticus Cripps made a vast lot of gestures, commending the value of -caution, and pointing to the lane half a hundred yards off, as if it -contained a whole band of brigands. Mr. Sharp was not a patient man, -and he knew that there was no danger. Therefore he swore pretty -freely, until the abject lord of swine restored him to a pleasant -humour by a pitiful tale of Black George's trouble on the previous -afternoon. - -"Catching it? Ay, and no mistake!" Tickuss Cripps repeated; "the dust -from his jacket--oh Lor', oh Lor! I had followed on softly to see the -fun, without Missy knowing I were near, of course; and may I never--if -I didn't think a would a'most have killed un! Ho, ho! it'll be a good -round week, I reckon, afore Jarge stitcheth up a ferret's mouth again. -He took me in terrible, that very morning; he were worse took in -hiszell afore the arternoon was out. Praise the Lard for all his -goodness, sir." - -"Well, well. It shall be made up to him. But of course you did not let -him, or any one else, get any idea who the lady is." - -"Governor, no man hath any sense of that," Leviticus answered, with -one finger on his nose; "save and excep' the old lady to the cottage, -and you and I, and you knows whether there be any other." - -"Leviticus Cripps, no lies to me! Of course your own wife has got the -whole thing out of you." - -"Her!" replied Tickuss, with a high contempt, for which he should have -had his ears boxed. "No, no, master, a would have been all over -Hoxford months ago, if her had knowed ort of it. Her knoweth of course -there be zumbody up to cottage with old lady; but her hath zucked in -the American story, the same as everybody else have. Who would ever -drame of our old Squire's daughter, when the whole world hath killed -and buried her? But none the less for that I kep her, and the -children, out of the way of our Zak, I did. Um might go talking on the -volk up to cottage; and Zak would be for goin' up with one of his -cards parraventur. Lor', how old Zak's eyes would come out of his -head! The old bat-fowl!--a would crack my zides to see un!" - -"You had better keep your fat sides sound and quiet," Mr. Sharp -answered sternly; for the slow wits of Tickuss, being tickled by that -rare thing, an imagination, the result was of course a guffaw whose -breadth was exceeded only by its length. - -"Oh Lor', oh Lor'--to see the old bat-fowl with the eyes comin' out of -the head of un! I'll be danged if I shouldn't choke!--oh Lor'!" - -Mr. Sharp saw that Tickuss, being once set off, might be trusted to go -on for at least half an hour, with minute-guns of cackling, loutish, -self-glorifying cachinnation, as amenable to reason as a hiccough is. -The lawyer's time was too precious to waste thus, so having learned -all that he cared to learn, and hearing wheels in the forest lane, he -turned back along the narrow covert-ride; and he thought within -himself, for he never mused aloud--"My bold stroke bids fair to be a -great success. Nobody dreams that the girl is here. She herself -believes every word that she is told. Kit is over head and ears; and -she will be the same with him, after that fine rescue. Our only -marplot has been laid by the heels at the very nick of time. We have -only to manage Kit himself--who is a most confounded sort. The luck is -with me, the luck is with me; and none shall be the wiser, Only give -me one month more." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -RATS. - - -Meanwhile at Shotover Grange, as well as at poor old Beckley Barton, -trouble was prevailing and the usual style of things upset. Russel -Overshute, though not beloved by everybody (because of his strong will -and words), was at any rate thought much of, and would be sadly missed -by all. All the women of the household made an idol of him. He spoke -so kindly, and said "thank you," when many men would have grunted; and -he did not seem to be aware of any padlocked bar of humanity betwixt -him and his "inferiors." At the same time he took no liberty any more -than he invited it; and his fine appearance and strength of readiness -made him look the master. - -The men, on the other hand, were not sure of their sorrow to see less -of him. He had always kept a keen eye upon them, as the master of a -large house ought to do; and he always bore in mind the great truth -that men on the whole are much lazier than women. Still even the worst -man about the place, while he freely took advantage of the present -sweet immunity, would have been sorry to hear of a thing which might -drive him to seek for another place. - -But what were all these, even all put together, in the weight of their -feelings, to compare with the mother of young Overshute? Many might -cry, but none would mourn; nobody could have any right to mourn, -except herself, his mother. This was her son, and her only hope. If it -pleased the Lord to rob her of him, He might as well take her soon -afterwards, without any more to do. - -This middle-aged lady was not pious, and made no pretence to be so. -Her opinion was that the Lord awarded things according to what people -do, and left them at liberty to carry on, without any great -interference. She knew that she always had been superfluously able to -manage her own affairs; and to hear weak ladies going on and on about -the will of the Lord, and so forth, sometimes was a trial to her -manners and hospitality. In this terrible illness of her son, she had -plenty of self-command, but very little resignation. With stern -activity and self-devotion, she watched him by day and by night so -jealously, that the nurses took offence and, fearing contagion, kept -their distance, though they drew their wages. - -This was the time to show what stuff both men and women were made of. -Fair-weather visitors, and delightful gossips, and the most devoted -friends, stood far aloof from the tainted gale, and fumigated their -letters. The best of them sent their grooms to the lodge, with orders -to be very careful, and to be sure to use tobacco during the moment of -colloquy. Others had so much faith that everything would be ordered -for the best, that they went to the seaside at once, to be delivered -from presumption. Many saw a visitation for some secret sin, that -otherwise might have festered inwardly and destroyed the immortal -part. Of course they would not even hint that he could have murdered -Grace Oglander; nothing was further from their thoughts; the idea was -much too terrible. Still there were many things that long had called -for explanation--and none had been afforded. - -Leaving these to go their way, a few kind souls came fluttering to the -house of pestilence and death. Two housemaids, and the boy who cleaned -the servant's shoes, had been struck down, and never rose again, -except with very cautious liftings into their last narrow cells. The -disease had spread from their master; and their constitutions were not -like his. Also the senior footman and the under-cook, were in their -beds; but the people who had their work to do believed them to be only -shamming. - -The master, however, still fought on, without any knowledge of the -conflict. His mind was beyond all the guidance of will, and afar from -its wonted subjects. It roved among clouds that had long blown away; -nebules of logic, dialectic fogs, and thunderstorms of enthymeme, the -pelting of soritic hail, and all the other perturbed condition of -undergraduate weather. In these things, unlike his friend Hardenow, he -had never taken delight, and now they rose up to avenge themselves. At -other times the poor fellow lay in depths of deepest lethargy, -voiceless, motionless, and almost breathless. None but his mother -would believe sometimes that he was not downright dead and gone. - -Of course Mrs. Overshute had called in the best advice to be had from -the whole of the great profession of medicine. The roughness of the -Abernethy school was still in vogue with country doctors; as even now -some of it may be found in a craft which ought to be gentle in -proportion to its helplessness. With timid people this roughness goes -a long way towards creating faith, and makes them try to get better -for fear of being insulted about it. In London however this Centauric -school of medicine had not thriven, when the rude Nessus could not -heal himself. A soft and soothing and genial race of Æsculapians -arose; the "vis medicatrix naturæ" was exalted and fed with calves' -feet; and the hand of velvet and the tongue of silver commended and -sweetened the pill of bread. - -At the head of this pleasing and amiable band (who seldom either -killed or cured) was the famous Sir Anthony Thistledown. This was the -great physician who had been invoked from London--to the strong -disgust of Splinters, then the foremost light at Oxford--when Squire -Oglander was seized with his very serious illness. And now Sir Anthony -did his best, with the aid of the reconciled Splinters, to soothe away -death from the weary couch of the last of the race of Overshute. - -"A pretty story I've aheerd in Oxford to-day; make me shamed, it -doth," said Zacchary Cripps to his sister Etty, while he smoked his -contemplative pipe by the fire of Stow logs, one cold and windy April -evening. "What do you think they've abeen and doed?" - -"Who, and where, Zak? How can I tell?" Esther was busy, trimming three -rashers, before she put them into the frying-pan. "I really do believe -you expect me to know everybody that comes to your thoughts, quite as -if it was my own mind." - -"Well, so you ought," said the Carrier. "The women nowadays are so -sharp, no man can have his own mind to his self. But anyhow you ought -to know that I mean up to poor Worship Overshute's. Ah, a fine young -gentleman as ever lived. Seemeth to be no more than last night as he -sat in that there chair and said the queerest thing as ever were said -by a Justice of the county bench." - -"What do you mean, Zak? I never heard him say anything but was kind -and proper, and a credit to him." - -"Might be proper, or might not. But anyhow 'twere impossible. Did a -tell me, or did a not, he would try to go a-poaching? When folk begins -to talk like that, 'tis a sign of the ill come over them. Ah's me, -'tis little he'll ever do of poaching, or shutting, or riding to -hounds, or tasting again of my best bottle! Bad enough job it be about -old Squire, but he be an old man in a way of speaking. Well, the Lord -He knoweth best, and us be all in the hollow of His hand. But he were -a fine young fellow, as fine a young fellow as ever I see; and not a -bit of pride about un!" - -Sadly reflecting, the Carrier stopped his pipe with a twig from the -fireplace, and gazed at the soot, because his eyes were bright. - -"But what were you going to tell me?" asked Etty, bringing her brother -back to his subject, as she often was obliged to do. - -"Railly, I be almost ashamed to tell 'ee. For such a thing to come to -pass in our own county, and a'most the same parish, and only two -turnpike gates atween. What do 'ee think of every soul in that there -house running right away, wi'out no notice, nor so much as 'good-bye!' -One and all on 'em, one and all; so I were told by a truthful man. And -the poor old leddy with her dying son, and not a single blessed woman -for to make the pap!" - -"I never can believe that they would be such cowards," Esther answered -as she left her work and came to look at Zacchary. "Men might, but -women never, I should hope. And such a kind good house it is! Oh, Zak, -it must be a wicked story!" - -"It is true enough, Etty, and too true. As I was a-coming home I seed -five on 'em standing all together under the elms by Magdalen College. -Their friends would not take them in, I was told, and nobody wouldn't -go nigh 'em. Perhaps they were sorry they had doed it then." - -"The wretches! They ought to sleep out in the rain, without even a -pigsty for shelter! Now, Zak, I never do anything without you; but to -Shotover Grange I go to-night, unless you bar the door on me; and if -you do I will get out of window!" - -"Esther, I never heerd tell of such a thing. If you was under a duty, -well and good; but to fly into the face of the Lord like that, without -no call upon you----" - -"There is a call upon me!" she answered, flushing with calm -resolution; "it is the Lord that calls me, Zak, and He will send me -back again. Now you shall have your supper, while you think it over -quietly. I will not go without your leave, brother; but I am sure you -will give it when you come to think." - -The Carrier, while he munched his bacon, and drank his quart of -home-brewed ale, was, in his quiet mind, more troubled than he had -ever been before, or, at any rate, since he used to pass the tent of -young Cinnaminta. That was the one great romance of his life, and -since he had quelled it with his sturdy strength, and looked round the -world as usual, scarcely any trouble worse than pence and halfpence -had been on him. From week to week, and year to year, he had worked a -cheerful road of life, breathing the fine air, looking at the sights, -feeling as little as need be felt the influence of nature, making new -friends all along his beat, even quicker than the old ones went their -way, carrying on a very decent trade, highly respecting the powers -that be, and highly respected by them. But now he found suddenly -brought before him a matter for consideration, which, in his ordinary -state of mind, would have circulated for a fortnight. Precipitance of -mind to him was worse than driving down a quarry; his practice had -always been, and now it was become his habit, to turn every question -inside out and upside down, and across and across, and finger every -seam of it (as if he were buying a secondhand sack) ere ever he began -to trust his weight to any side of it. To do all this required some -hours with a mind so unelectric, and even after that he liked to have -a good night's sleep, and find the core of his resolve set hard in the -morning. - -For this due process there was now no time. He dared not even to begin -it, knowing that it could not be wrought out; therefore he betook -himself to a plan which once before had served him well. After groping -in the bottom of a sacred pocket (where sample-beans and scarlet -runners got into the loops of keys, and bits of whipcord were wound -tightly round old turnpike tickets, and a little shoemaker's awl in a -cork kept company with a shoe-pick), Master Cripps with his -blunt-headed fingers got hold of a crooked sixpence. The bend alone -would have only conferred a simple charm upon it, but when to the bend -there was added a hole, that sixpence became Delphic. Cripps had -consulted it once before when a quick-tempered farmer hurried him -concerning the purchase of a rick of hay. The Carrier had no -superstition, but he greatly abounded with gratitude; and, having made -a great hit about that rick, the least he could do to the sixpence was -to consult it again under similar hurry. - -He said to himself, "Now the Lord send me right. If you comes out -heads, little Etty shall go; if you comes out tails, I shall take it -for a sign that we ought to turn tails in this here job." - -He said no more, but with great extrication worked his oracular -sixpence up through a rattle of obstructions. Like the lots cast in a -steep-headed man's helmet, up came the sixpence reluctantly. - -"I have a got 'ee. Now, what dost thou say?" cried Cripps, with the -triumph of an obstinate man. "Never a lie hast thou told me yet. Spake -up, little fellow." Being thus adjured, the crooked sixpence, in -gratitude for much friction, gleamed softly in the firelight; but even -the Carrier, keen as his eyes were, could not make out head or tail. -"Vetch me a can'le and the looking-glass," he called out to Esther; -the looking-glass being a large old lens, which had been left behind -by Hardenow. Esther brought both in about half a minute; and Cripps, -with the little coin sternly sitting as flatly in his palm as its form -allowed, began to examine it carefully. With one eye shut, as if -firing a gun, he tried the lens at every distance from a foot to half -an inch, shifting the candle about until some of his frizzly hair took -fire, and with this assistance he exclaimed at last, "Heads, -child!--heads it is! Thou shalt go; the will of the Lord ordaineth it! -Plaize the Lord to send thee back safe and sound as now thou goest! -None on us, to my knowledge, has done aught to deserve to be punished -for." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -BOOTS ON. - - -When a very active man is suddenly "laid by the heels;" sad as the -dispensation is, there are sure to be some who rejoice in it. Even if -it be only a zealous clerk, sausage-maker, or grave-digger, thus upset -in his activities; there are one or two compeers who rejoice in the -heart, while they deeply lament with the lip. Not that they have the -very smallest atom of ill-will about them. They are thoroughly -good-hearted fellows, as are nine men out of every ten; and within, as -well as without, they would grieve to hear that their valued friend -was dead. - -Still, for the moment, and while we believe, as everybody does about -everybody else, that he is sure as a top to come round again, it is a -relief to have this busy fellow just out of the way a bit; and there -is an inward hugging of the lazier spirit at the thought that the -restless one will have received a lesson, and be pulled back to a -milder state. Be this view of the matter either true or false, in a -general way, at least in this particular instance (the illness of -Russel Overshute), some of it seemed to apply right well. - -There was no one who wished him positive death, not even of those whom -he had most justly visited with the treadmill; but there were several -who were not sorry to hear of this check to his energies; and foremost -among them might be counted Mr. Luke Sharp and the great John Smith. - -Mr. John Smith had surprised his friends, and disappointed the entire -public, by finding out nothing at all about anything after his one -great discovery, made with the help of the British army. For some -cause or other, best known to himself, he had dropped his -indefatigability and taken to very grave shakes of his head instead of -nimble footings. He feigned to be very busy still with this leading -case of the neighbourhood; but though his superiors might believe it, -his underlings were not to be misled. All of these knew whether Mr. -John was launching thunderbolts or throwing dust, and were well aware -that he had quite taken up with the latter process in the Beckley -case. - -Why, or even exactly when, this change had occurred, they did not -know, only they were sure that the reason lay deep in the pocket of -Mr. Smith; which conclusion, as we shall see, did no more honour to -their heads than to their hearts. - -But still, whatever his feelings were, or his desires in the matter, -the resolute face and active step of this intelligent officer were -often to be seen and heard at Beckley; and to several persons in the -village they were becoming welcome. Numbers Cripps, the butcher, was -moved with gentle goodwill towards him, having heard what a fine knife -and fork he played, and finding it true in the Squire's bill. Also -Phil Hiss of the Dusty Anvil found the fame of this gentleman telling -on his average receipts; and several old women, who had some time back -made up their accounts for a better world, and were taking the -interest in scandal, hailed with delight this unexpected bonus and -true premium. To mention young spinsters would be immoral, for none of -them had any certainty whether there was, or was not, any Mrs. John -Smith. Rustic modesty forbade that the Carrier should be asked to -settle this great point directly. Still there were methods of letting -him know how desirable any information was. - -At all these symptoms of renown, when brought to his knowledge, Mr. -Smith only smiled and shook his head. He had several good reasons of -his own for haunting the village as he did; one of them being that he -thus obeyed the general orders he had received. Also he really liked -the Squire, his victuals, and his domestics. Among these latter he had -quite outlived any little prejudice created by his early manner; and -even Mary Hookham was now inclined to use him as an irritant, or -stimulant, for the lukewarm Cripps. But being a sharp and quick young -woman, Mary took care not to go too far. - -"How is the fine old gentleman now? Mary, my love, how is he?" Mr. -Smith asked, as he pulled off his cloak in the lobby, just after -church-time, and just before early dinner-time, on the morrow of that -Saturday night when Esther set off for Shotover. Although it was -spring, she had not gone alone, but had taken a son of the butcher -with her; the effect of that quarry-scene on her nerves would last as -long as she did. - -Mary was bound not to answer Mr. Smith whenever he spoke in that -festive way. That much had been settled betwixt her and her mother, -remembering what a place Beckley was. But she did all her duty, as a -good maid should, in the way of receiving a visitor. She took his -cloak from him, and she hung it on a hook--most men wore a cloak just -then for walking, whether it were wet or dry, and part of the coming -"Tractarian movement" was to cast away that cloak--and then Mary saw -on the feathery collar a leaf-bud that threatened to become a moth, -according to her entomology. This she picked out, with a "shoo" and a -"shish" as she trod it underfoot; and Mr. John Smith, having terror of -insects, and being a very clean man, recoiled, just when he was -thinking of stealing a kiss. This little piece of business placed them -on their proper terms again. - -"How is your master, Miss Hookham? I hope you find him getting better. -Everything now is looking up again!" - -"No, Mr. Smith; he is very sadly. Thanking you, sir, for inquiring of -him. He do seem a little better one day, and we all begins to hope and -hope, and then there come something all over him again, the same as -might be this here cloak, sir, thrown on the head of that there stick. -But come in and see him, Mr. Smith, if you please. I thought it was -the rector when you rang. But master will be glad to see you every bit -the same as if you was, no doubt." - -John Smith, who was never to be put down by any small comparisons, -followed quick Mary with a stedfast march over the quiet matting. -Potters, with their broken shards, had not yet made it a trial to -walk, and a still greater trial to look downward, on the road to -dinner. In the long, old-fashioned dining-room sat the Squire at the -head of his table. For many years it had been his wont to have an -early dinner on Sunday, with a knife and fork always ready for the -clergyman, who was a bachelor of middle age. The clergyman came, or -did not come, according to his own convenience, without ceremony or -apology. - -"I beg you to excuse," said the Squire rising, as Smith was shown into -the room, "my absence from church this morning, Mr. Warbelow. I had -quite made up my mind to go, and everything was quite ready, when I -did not feel quite so well as usual, and was ordered to stay at home." - -Squire Oglander made his fine old-fashioned bow when he had spoken, -and held out his hand for the parson to take it, as the parson always -did, with eyes that gave a look of grief and then fell, and kind lips -that murmured that all things were ordered for the best. But instead -of the parson's gentle clasp, the Squire, whose sight was beginning to -fail together with his other faculties, was saluted with a strong -rough grasp, and a gaze from entirely unclerical eyes. - -"How is your Worship? Well, nicely, I hope. Charming you look, sir, as -ever I see." - -"Sir, I thank you. I am in good health. But I have not the honour of -remembering your name." - -"Smith, your Worship--John Smith, at your service; as he was the day -before yesterday. 'Out of sight out of mind,' the old saying is. I -suppose you find it so, sir!" - -With this home-thrust, delivered quite unwittingly, Mr. Smith sat -down; his opinion was that Her Majesty's service levelled all -distinctions. Mr. Oglander gave him one glance, like the keen look of -his better days, and then turned away and gazed round the room for -something out of sight, but never likely to be out of mind. The old -man was weak, and knew his weakness. In the presence of a gentleman he -might have broken down and wept, and been much better for it; but -before a man of this sort, not a sign would he let out of the sorrow -that was killing him. - -It had been settled by all doctors, when the Squire was in his first -illness, that nothing should be said by Smith, or any one else -(without great cause), about the trouble which was ever in the heart -of all the house. Nothing, at least to the Squire himself, for fear of -exciting him fatally. Little rumours might be filtered through the -servants towards him; especially through Mother Hookham, who put -hopeful grains of Paradise into the heavy beer of fact. Such things -did the old man good. His faith in the Lord, when beginning to flag, -was renewed by fibs of this good old woman; and each confirmed the -other. - -In former days he would have resented and nipped in the -bud--kind-hearted as he was--John Smith's familiarity. But now he had -no heart to care about any of such trifles. He begged Mr. Smith to -take a chair, quite as if he were waiting to be invited; then, weak as -he was, he tottered to the bell-pull, rather than ask his guest to -ring. John Smith jumped up to help, but felt uncertain what good -manners were. - -"Mary," said the Squire, when Mary came; "you always look out of the -window, I think, to see the people come out of church." - -"Never, sir, never! Except whenever I feels wicked not to a' been -there myself. Such time it seemeth to do me good; like smelling of the -good words over there." - -"Yes, that is very right. All I want to know is whether Mr. Warbelow -is coming up here." - -"No, sir; not this time, I believe. He seemed to have got a young -lady with un, as wore a blue cloak with three slashes to the sleeve, -and a bonnet with yellow French roses in it, and a striped skirt, -made of the very same stuff as I seed in to Cavell's--no, not -Cavell's--t'other shop over the way, round the corner; likewise her -had----" - -"Then, Mary, bring in the dinner, if you please. This gentleman will -dine with me, instead of Mr. Warbelow." - -"Well now, if I ever did!" Miss Hookham exclaimed to herself in the -passage. "Why, a must be a sort of a gentleman! Master wouldn't dine -along of Master Cripps; but to my mind Zak be the gentleman afore he!" - -The Squire's oblique little sarcasm--if sarcasm at all it were--failed -to hit Mr. Smith altogether; he cordially accepted plate and spoon, -and fell to at the soup, which was excellent. The soup was followed by -a fine sirloin; whereupon Mr. Oglander, through some association of -ideas, could not suppress a little sigh. - -"Never sigh at your meat, sir," cried Mr. Smith; "give me the -carving-knife, sir, if you are unequal to the situation. To sigh at -such a sirloin--oh fie, oh fie!" - -"I was thinking of some one who always used to like the brown," the -old man said, in the simplest manner, as if an apology were needed. - -"Well, sir, I like the brown very much! I will put it by for myself, -sir, and help you to an inner slice. Here, Mary, a plate for your -master! Quick! Everything will be cold, my goodness! And who sliced -this horse-radish, pray? for slicing it is, not scraping." - -Mary was obliged to bite her tongue to keep it in any way mannersome; -when the door was thrown open, and in came her mother, with her face -quite white, and both hands stretched on high. - -"Oh my! oh my! a sin I call it--a wicked, cruel, sinful sin!" Widow -Hookham exclaimed as soon as she could speak. "All over the village, -all over the parish, in two days' time at the latest it will be. Oh, -how could your Worship allow of it?" - -"Give your mamma a glass of wine, my dear," said Mr. John Smith, as -the widow fell back, with violent menace of fainting, or worse; while -the poor Squire, expecting some new blow, folded his tremulous hands -to receive it. "Take a good drink, ma'am, and then relieve your -system." - -"That Cripps! oh, that Cripps!" exclaimed Mrs. Hookham, as soon as the -wine, which first "went the wrong way," had taken the right direction; -"if ever a darter of mine hath Cripps, in spite of two stockings of -money, they say----" - -"What is it about Cripps?" asked the Squire, in a voice that required -an immediate answer. The first news of his trouble had come through -Cripps; and now, in his helpless condition, he always connected the -name of the Carrier with the solution, if one there should be. - -"He hath done a thing he ought to be ashamed on!" screamed Mrs. -Hookham, with such excitement, that they were forced to give her -another glass of wine; "he hath brought into this parish, and the -buzzum of his family, pestilence and death, he hath! And who be he to -do such a thing, a road-faring, twopenny carrier?" - -"Cripps charges a good deal more than twopence," said Mr. Oglander -quietly; for his hopes and fears were once more postponed. - -"He hath brought the worst load ever were brought!" cried the widow, -growing eloquent. "Black death, and the plague, and the murrain of -Egypt hath come in through Cripps the Carrier! How much will he charge -Beckley, your Worship? How much shall Beckley pay him, when she -mourneth for her children? when she spreadeth forth her hands and -seeketh north and south, and cannot find them, because they are not?" - -"What is it, good woman?" cried Smith, impatiently, "what is all this -uproar? do tell us, and have done with it?" - -"Good man," replied Widow Hookham tartly, "my words are addressed to -your betters, sir. Your Worship knoweth well that Master Kale hath -leave and license for his Sunday dinner; ever since his poor wife -died, he sitteth with a knife and fork to the right side of our -cook-maid. He were that genteel, I do assure you, although his -appearance bespeaketh it not, and city gents may look down on him; he -had such a sense of propriety, not a word did he say all the time of -dinner to raise an objection to the weakest stomach. But as soon as he -see that all were done, and the parlour dinner forward, he layeth his -finger on his lips, and looketh to me as the prime authority; and when -I ask him to speak out, no secrets being among good friends, what he -said were a deal too much for me, or any other Christian person." - -"Well, well, ma'am, if your own dinner was respected, you might have -showed some respect for ours," Mr. Smith exclaimed very sadly, -beholding the gravy in the channelled dish margined with grease, and -the noble sirloin weeping with lost opportunity. But Mr. Oglander took -no notice. To such things he was indifferent now. - -"To keep the mind dwelling upon earthly victuals," the widow replied -severely, "on the Lord's Day, and with the Day of the Lord a-hanging -special over us--such things is beyond me to deal with, and calls for -Mr. Warbelow. Carrier Cripps hath sent his sister over to nurse Squire -Overshute!" - -John Smith pretended to be busy with his beef, but Mary, who made a -point of watching whatever he did (without well knowing why), startled -as she was by her mother's words, this girl had her quick eyes upon -his face, and was sure that it lost colour, as the carved sirloin of -beef had done from the trickling of the gravy. - -"Overshute! nurse Mr. Overshute?" cried the Squire with great -astonishment. "Why, what ails Mr. Overshute? It is a long time since I -have seen him, and I thought that he had perhaps forgotten me. He used -to come very often, when--but who am I to tempt him? When my darling -was here, in the time of my darling, everybody came to visit me; now -nobody comes, and of course it is right. There is nobody for them to -look at now, and no one to make them laugh a little. Ah, she used to -make them laugh, till I was quite jealous, I do believe; not of -myself, bless your heart! but of her, because I never liked her to -have too much to say to anybody, unless it was one who could -understand her. And nobody ever turned up that was able, in any way, -to understand her, except her poor old father, sir." - -The Squire, at the end of this long speech (which had been a great -deal too much for him) stood up, and flourished his fork, which should -have been better employed in feeding him, and looked from face to -face, in fear that he had made himself ridiculous. Nobody laughed at -him, or even smiled; and he was pleased with this, and resolved never -to give such occasion again; because it would have shamed him so. And -after all it was his own business. None of these people could have any -idea, and he hoped they never might have. By this time his mind was -dropping softly into some confusion, and feeling it so, he sat down -again, and drank the glass of wine which Mary Hookham kindly held for -him. - -For a few minutes Mr. John Smith had his flourish (to let both the -women be sure who he was) all about the Queen, and the law of the -land, and the jurisdiction of the Bench, and he threatened the absent -Cripps with three months' imprisonment, and perhaps the treadmill. He -knew that he was talking unswept rubbish, but his audience was female. -They listened to him without leaving off their work; and their courage -increased as his did. - -But presently Mr. Oglander, who had seemed to be taking a nap, arose, -and said, as clearly as ever he had said anything in his clearest -days-- - -"Mary, go and tell Charles to put the saddle on the mare at once." - -"Oh Lor', sir! whatever are you thinking of? Lor' a massy, sir, I -couldn't do it, I couldn't! You ain't abeen a-horseback for nigh four -months, and your orders is to keep quiet in your chair, and not even -look out o' winder, sir. Do 'ee plaize to go into your slippers, sir?" - -"I will not go into my slippers, Mary. I will go into my boots. I hear -that Mr. Overshute is ill, and I gather from what you have all been -saying that his illness is of such a kind that nobody will go near -him. I have wronged the young gentleman bitterly, and I will do my -best to right myself. If I never do another thing, I will ride to -Shotover this day. Order the mare, as I tell you, and the air will do -me good, please God!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -A SPIDER'S DINNER-PARTY. - - -Now was the happy time when Oxford, ever old, yet ever fresh with the -gay triennial crown of youth, was preparing itself for that sweet -leisure for which it is seldom ill prepared. Being the paramount -castle and strongest feudal hold of stout "idlesse," this fair city -has not much to do to get itself into prime condition for the noblest -efforts and most arduous feats of invincible laziness. The first and -most essential step is to summon all her students, and send them to -chapel to pay their vows. After this there need be no misgiving or -fear of industry. With one accord they issue forth, all pledged to do -nothing for the day, week, or month; each intellectual brow is stamped -with the strongest resolve not to open a book; and - - "Games are the spur which the clear spirit doth raise, - To scorn the Dons, and live luxurious days." - -This being so, whether winter shatters the Isid wave against Folly -bridge, or spring's arrival rustles in the wavering leaves of -Magdalen, or autumn strews the chastened fragrance of many brewers on -ripe air--how much more when beauteous summer fosters the coy down on -the lip of the junior sophist like thistle-seed, and casts the -freshman's shadow hotly on the flags of High Street--now or never is -the proper period not to overwork one's self, and the hour for taking -it easy. - -But against each sacred rite and hallowed custom of the place, against -each good old-fashioned smoothness, and fine-fed sequacity, a rapid -stir was now arising, and a strong desire to give a shove. There were -some few people who really thought that the little world in which they -lay was one they ought to move in; that perfect life was not to be had -without some attempt at breathing; and that a fire (though beautifully -laid) gives little warmth till kindled. - -However, these were young fellows mostly, clever in their way, but not -quite sound; and the heads of houses, generally speaking, abode on the -house-top, and did not come down. Still they kept their sagacious eyes -on the movement gathering down below, and made up their minds to crush -it as soon as they could be quite certain of being too late. But these -things ride not upon the cart of Cripps--though Cripps is a -theologian, when you beat his charges down. - -After the Easter vacation was over, with too few fattening festivals, -the most popular tutor in Brasenose (being the only one who ever tried -to teach) came back to his rooms and his college work with a very fine -appetite for doing good;--according, at least, to his own ideas of -good, and duty, and usefulness; all of which were fundamentally wrong -in the opinion of the other tutors. But Hardenow, while he avoided -carefully all disputes with his colleagues, strictly kept to his own -course, and doing more work than the other five (all put together) -attempted, was permitted to have his own way, because of the trouble -there might be in stopping him. - -The college met for the idle term, on Saturday morning, as usual. On -Saturday afternoon Hardenow led off his old "squad" with two new -recruits, for their fifteen miles of hard walking. Athletics and -training were as yet unknown (except with the "eight" for Henley), and -this Tractarian movement may have earned its name, ere the birth of -No. 90, from the tract of road traversed, in a toe-and-heel track, by -the fine young fellows who were up to it. At any rate that was what -the country people said, and these are more often right than wrong, -and the same opinion still abides with them. - -Hardenow only took this long tramp for the sake of collecting his -forces. Saturday was not their proper day for this very admirable -coat-tail chase. Neither did they swallow hill and plain in this -manner on a Sunday. Lectures were needful to fetch them up to the -proper pitch for striding so. Wherefore on the morrow Mr. Hardenow was -free for a cruise on his own account, after morning sermon at St. -Mary's; and not having heard of his old friend Russel for several -weeks, he resolved to go and hunt him up in his own home. - -It was not a possible thing for this very active and spare-bodied man -to lounge upon his road. Whatever it was that he undertook, he carried -on the action with such a swing and emphasis, that he seemed to be -doing nothing else. He wore a short spencer, and a long-tailed coat, -"typical"--to use the pet word of that age--both of his curt brevity -and his ankle-reaching gravity. His jacket stuck into him, and his -coat struck away with the power of an adverse wind, while the boys -turned back and stared at him; but he was so accustomed to that sort -of thing that he never thought of looking round. He might have been -tail-piped for seven leagues without troubling his head about it. - -This was a man of great power of mind, and led up to a lofty standard; -pure, unselfish, good, and grand (so far as any grandeur can be in the -human compound), watchful over himself at almost every corner of his -ways, kind of heart, and fond of children; loving all simplicity, -quick to catch and glance the meaning of minds very different from his -own; subtle also, and deep to reason, but never much inclined to -argue. He had a shy and very peculiar manner of turning his eyes away -from even an undergraduate, when his words did not command assent; as -sometimes happened with freshmen full of conceit from some great -public school. - -The manner of his mind was never to assert itself, or enter into -controversy. He felt that no arguments would stir himself when he had -solidly cast his thoughts; and he had of all courtesies the rarest (at -any rate with Englishmen), the courtesy of hoping that another could -reason as well as himself. - -In this honest and strenuous nature there was one deficiency. The Rev. -Thomas Hardenow, copious of mind and active, clear of memory, and keen -at every knot of scholarship, patient and candid too, and not at all -intolerant, yet never could reach the highest rank, through want of -native humour. His view of things was nearly always anxious and -earnest. His standing-point was so fixed and stable, that every -subject might be said to revolve on its own axis during its revolution -round him; and the side that never presented itself was the ludicrous -or lightsome one. - -As he strode up the hill, with the back of his leg-line concave at the -calf, instead of convex (whenever his fluttering skirt allowed a -glimpse of what he never thought about), it was brought home suddenly -to his ranging mind that he might be within view of Beckley. At a bend -of the rising road he turned, and endwise down a plait of hills, and -between soft pillowy folds of trees, the simple old church of Beckley -stood, for his thoughts to make the most of it. And, to guide them, -the chime of the gentle bells, foretelling of the service at three -o'clock, came on the tremulous conveyance of the wind, murmuring the -burden he knew so well--"old men and ancient dames, married folk and -children, bachelors and maidens, all come to church!" - -Hardenow thought of the months he had spent, some few years back, in -that quiet place; of the long, laborious, lonesome days, the solid -hours divided well, the space allotted for each hard drill; then (when -the pages grew dim and dark, and the bat flitted over the lattice, or -the white owl sailed to the rickyard), the glory of sallying into the -air, inhaling grander volumes than ever from mortal breath proceeded, -and plunging into leaves that speak of one great Author only. And well -he remembered in all that toil the pure delight of the Sunday; the -precious balm of kicking out both legs, and turning on the pillow -until eight o'clock; the leisurely breakfast with the Saturday papers, -instead of Aristotle; the instructive and amusing walk to church, -where everybody admired him, and he set the fashion for at least ten -years; the dread of the parson that a man who was known as the best of -his year at Oxford should pick out the fallacies of his old logic; and -then the culminating triumph of Sabbatic jubilee--the dinner, the -dinner, wherewith the whole week had been privily gestating; up to -that crowning moment when Cripps, in a coat of no mean broadcloth, -entered with a dish of Crippsic size, with the "trimmings" coming -after him in a tray, and lifting the cover with a pant and flourish, -said, "Well, sir, now, what do 'ee plaize to think of that?" - -Nor in this pleasant retrospect of kindness and simplicity was the -element of rustic grace and beauty wholly absent--the slight young -figure that flitted in and out, with quick desire to please him; the -soft pretty smile with which his improvements of Beckley dialect were -received; and the sweet gray eyes that filled with tears so, the day -before his college met. Hardenow had feared, humble-minded as he was, -that the young girl might be falling into liking him too well; and he -knew that there might be on his own part too much reciprocity. -Therefore (much as he loved Cripps, and fully as he allowed for all -that was to be said upon every side), he had felt himself bound to -take no more than a distant view of Beckley. - -Even now, after three years and a half, there was some resolve in him -to that effect, or the residue of a resolution. He turned from the -gentle invitation of the distant bells, and went on with his face set -towards the house of his old friend, Overshute. When he came to the -lodge (which was like a great beehive stuck at the end of a row of -trees), it caused him a little surprise to find the gate wide open, -and nobody there. But he thought that, as it was Sunday, perhaps the -lodge-people were gone for a holiday; and so he trudged onward, and -met no one to throw any light upon anything. - -In this way he came to the door at last, with the fine old porch of -Purbeck stone heavily overhanging it, and the long wings of the house -stretched out, with empty windows either way. Hardenow rang and -knocked, and then set to and knocked and rang again; and then sat down -on a stone balustrade; and then jumped up with just vigour renewed, -and pushed and pulled, and in every way worked to the utmost degree of -capacity everything that had ever been gifted with any power of -conducting sound. - -Nobody answered. The sound of his energy went into places far away, -and echoed there, and then from stony corners came back to him. He -traced the whole range of the windows and caught no sign of any life -inside them. At last, he pushed the great door, and lo! there was -nothing to resist his thrust, except its sullen weight. - -When Hardenow stood in the old-fashioned hall, which was not at all -"baronial," he found himself getting into such a fright that he had a -great mind to go away again. If there had only been anybody with -him--however inferior in "mental power"--he might have been able to -refresh himself by demonstrating something, and then have marched on -to the practical proof. But now he was all by himself, in strange and -unaccountable loneliness. The sense of his condition perhaps induced -him to set to and shout. The silence was so oppressive, that the sound -of his own voice almost alarmed him by its audacity. So, after -shouting "Russel!" thrice, he stopped, and listened, and heard nothing -except that cold and shuddering ring, as of hardware in frosty -weather, which stone and plaster and timber give when deserted by -their lords--mankind. - -Knowing pretty well all the chief rooms of the house, Hardenow -resolved to go and see if they were locked; and grasping his black -holly-stick for self-defence, he made for the dining-room. The door -was wide open; the cloth on the table, with knives and forks and -glasses placed, as if for a small dinner-party; but the only guest -visible was a long-legged spider, with a sound and healthy appetite, -who had come down to dine from the oak beams overhead, and was sitting -in his web between a claret bottle and a cruet-stand, ready to receive -with a cordial clasp any eligible visitor. - -Hardenow tasted the water in a jug, and found it quite stale and -nasty; then he opened a napkin, and the bread inside it was dry and -hard as biscuit. Then he saw with still further surprise that the -windows were open to their utmost extent, and the basket of plate was -on the sideboard. - -"My old friend Russel, my dear old fellow!" he cried with his hand on -his heart where lurked disease as yet unsuspected, "what strange -misfortune has befallen you? No wonder my letter was left unanswered. -Perhaps the dear fellow is now being buried, and every one gone to his -funeral. But no; if it were so, these things would not be thus. The -funeral feast is a grand institution. Everything would be fresh and -lively, and five leaves put into the dinner-table." With this true -reflection, he left the room to seek the solution elsewhere. - -He failed, however, to find it in any of the downstair sitting-rooms. -Then he went even into the kitchen, thinking the liberty allowable -under such conditions. The grate was cold and the table bare; on the -one lay a drift of soot, on the other a level deposit of dust, with a -few grimy implements to distribute it. - -Hardenow made up his mind for the worst. He was not addicted to -fiction (as haply was indicated by his good degree), but he could not -help recalling certain eastern and even classic tales; and if he had -come upon all the household sitting in native marble, or from the -waistband downward turned into fish, or logs, or dragons, he might -have been partly surprised, but must have been wholly thankful for the -explanation. Failing however to discover this, and being resolved to -go through with the matter, the tutor of Brasenose mounted the black -oak staircase of this enchanted house. At the head of the stairs was a -wide, low passage, leading right and left from a balustraded gallery. -The young man chose first the passage to the right, and tightening his -grip of the stick, strode on. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -THE FIRE-BELL. - - -The doors of the rooms on either side were not only open but fastened -back; the sashes of the windows were all thrown up; and the rain, -which had followed when the east wind fell, had entered and made -puddles on the sills inside. Such a draught of air rushed down the -passage that Hardenow's lengthy skirts flickered out, in the orthodox -fashion, behind him. - -At the end of this passage he came to a small alcove, fenced off with -a loose white curtain, shaking and jerking itself in the wind. He put -this aside with his stick; and two doorways, leading into separate -rooms, but with no doors in them, faced him. Something told him that -both these rooms held human life, or human death. - -First he looked in at the one on the left. He expected to see lonely -death; perhaps corruption; or he knew not what. His nerves were strung -or unstrung (whichever is the medical way of putting it) to such a -degree that he wholly forgot, or entirely put by, everything, except -his own absorbing sense of his duty, as a man in holy orders. This -duty had never been practised yet in any serious way, because he had -never been able to afford it. It costs so much more money than it -brings in. However, in the midst of more lucrative work, he had felt -that he was sacred to it--rich or poor--and he often had a special -hankering after it. This leaning towards the cure of souls had a good -chance now of being gratified. - -In the room on the left hand he saw a little bed, laid at the foot of -a fat four-poster, which with carved mouths grinned at it; and on this -little bed of white (without curtain, or trimming, or tester), lay a -lady, or a lady's body, cast down recklessly, in sleep or death, with -the face entirely covered by a silvery cloud of hair. From the manner -in which one arm was bent, Hardenow thought that the lady lived. There -was nothing else to show it. Being a young man, a gentleman also, he -hung back and trembled back from entering that room. - -Without any power to "revolve things well," as he always directed his -pupils to do, Hardenow stepped to the other doorway, and silently -settled his gaze inside. His eyes were so worried that he could not -trust them, until he had time to consider what they told. - -They told him a tale even stranger than that which had grown upon him -for an hour now, and passed from a void alarm into a terror; they -showed him the loveliest girl--according to their rendering--that ever -they had rested on till now; a maiden sitting in a low chair reading, -silently sometimes, and sometimes in a whisper, according to some -signal, perhaps, of which he saw no sign. There was no other person in -the room, so far as he could see; and he strained his eyes with -extreme anxiety to make out that. - -The Rev. Thomas Hardenow knew (as clearly as his keen perception ever -had brought any knowledge home) that he was not discharging the -functions now--unless they were too catholic--of the sacerdotal -office, in watching a young woman through a doorway, without either -leave or notice. But though he must have been aware of this, it -scarcely seemed now to occur to him; or whether it did, or did not, he -went on in the same manner gazing. - -The girl could not see him; it was not fair play. The width of great -windows, for instance, kept up such a rattling of blinds, and such -flapping of cords, and even the floor was so strewn with herbs (for -the sake of their aroma), that anybody might quite come close to -anybody who had cast away fear (in the vast despair of prostration), -without any sense of approach until perhaps hand was laid upon -shoulder. Hardenow took no more advantage of these things than about -half a minute. In that half-minute, however, his outward faculties -(being all alive with fear) rendered to his inward and endiathetic -organs a picture, a schema, or a plasm--the proper word may be left to -him--such as would remain inside, at least while the mind abode there. - -The sound of low, laborious breath pervaded the sick room now and -then, between the creaking noises and the sighing of the wind. In -spite of all draughts, the air was heavy with the scent of herbs -strewn broadcast, to prevent infection--tansy, wormwood, rue, and -sage, burnt lavender and rosemary. The use of acids in malignant -fevers was at that time much in vogue, and saucers of vinegar and -verjuice, steeped lemon-peel, and such like, as well as dozens of -medicine bottles, stood upon little tables. Still Hardenow could not -see the patient; only by following the glance of the reader could he -discover the direction. It was the girl herself, however, on whom his -wondering eyes were bent. At first he seemed to know her face, and -then he was sure that he must have been wrong. The sense of doing -good, and the wonderful influence of pity, had changed the face of a -pretty girl into that of a beautiful woman. Hardenow banished his -first idea, and wondered what strange young lady this could be. - -Although she was reading aloud, and doing it not so very badly, it was -plain enough that she expected no one to listen to her. The sound of -her voice, perhaps, was soothing to some one who understood no words; -as people (in some of the many unknown conditions of brain) have been -soothed and recovered by a thread of waterfall broken with a -walking-stick. At any rate, she read on, and her reading fell like -decent poetry. - -Hardenow scarcely knew what he ought to do. He did not like to go -forward; and it was a mean thing to go backward, rendering no help, -when help seemed wanted so extremely. He peeped back into the other -room; and there was the lady with the fine white hair, sleeping as -soundly as a weary top driven into dreaming by extreme activity of -blows. - -Nothing less than a fine idea could have delivered Hardenow from this -bad situation. It was suddenly borne in upon his mind that the house -had a rare old fire-bell, a relic of nobler ages, hanging from a bar -in a little open cot, scarcely big enough for a hen-roost; and Russel -had shown him one day, with a laugh, the corner in which the rope -hung. There certainly could be but very little chance of doing harm by -ringing it; what could be worse than the present state of things? Some -good Samaritan might come. No Levite was left to be driven away. - -For Hardenow understood the situation now. The meaning of a very short -paragraph in the Oxford paper of Saturday, which he had glanced at and -cast by, came distinctly home to him. The careful editor had omitted -name of person and of place, but had made his report quite clear to -those who held a key to the reference. "How very dull-witted now I -must be!" cried the poor young fellow in his lonely trouble. "I ought -to have known it. But we never know the clearest things until too -late." It was not only for the sake of acquitting himself of an -awkward matter, but also in the hope of doing good to the few left -desolate, that Hardenow moved forth his legs, from the windy white -curtain away again. - -He went down the passage at a very great pace, as nearly akin to a run -as the practice of long steady walks permitted; and then at the head -of the staircase he turned, and remembered a quiet little corner. -Here, in an out-of-the-way recess, the rope of the alarm-bell hung; -and he saw it, even in that niche, moving to and fro with the -universal draught. Hardenow seized it, and rang such a peal as the old -bell had never given tongue to before. The bell was a large one, sound -and clear; and the call must have startled the neighbourhood for a -mile, if it could be startled. - -"Really, I do believe I have roused somebody at last!" exclaimed the -ringer, as he looked through a window commanding the road to the -house, and saw a man on horse-back coming. "But, surely, unless he -sprang out of the ground, he must have been coming before I began." - -In this strange loneliness, almost any visitor would be welcome; and -Hardenow ran towards the top of the stairs to see who it was, and to -meet him. But here, as he turned the corner of the balustraded -gallery, a scared and hurrying young woman, almost ran into his arms. - -"Oh, what is it?" she cried, drawing back, and blushing to a deeper -colour than well-extracted blood can show; "there is no funeral yet! -He is not dead! Who is ringing the bell so? It has startled even him, -and will either kill or save him! Kill him, it will kill him, I am -almost sure!" - -"Esther--Miss Cripps--what a fool I am! I never thought of that--I did -not know--how could I tell? I am all in the dark! Is it Russel -Overshute?" - -"Yes, Mr. Hardenow. Everybody knows it. Every one has taken good care -to run away. Even the doctors will come no more! They say it is -hopeless; and they might only infect their other patients. I fear that -his mother must die too! She has taken the fever in a milder form; but -walk she will, while walk she can. And at her time of life it is such -a chance. But I cannot stop one moment!" - -"And at your time of life is it nothing, Esther? You seem to think of -everybody but yourself. Is this fair to your own hearth and home?" - -While he was speaking he looked at her eyes; and her eyes were filling -with deep tears--a dangerous process to contemplate. - -"Oh, no, there is no fear of that," she answered misunderstanding him; -"I shall take good care not to go home until I am quite sure that -there is no risk." - -"That is not what I mean. I mean supposing you yourself should catch -it." - -"If I do, they will let me stay here, I am sure. But I have no fear of -it. The hand that led me here will lead me back again. But you ought -not to be here. I am quite forgetting you." - -Hardenow looked at her with admiration warmer than he could put into -words. She had been thinking of him throughout. She thought of every -one except herself. Even in the moment of first surprise she had drawn -away so that she stood to leeward; and while they were speaking she -took good care that the current of wind passed from him to her. Also -in one hand she carried a little chafing-dish producing lively -fumigation. - -"Now, if you please, I must go back to him. Nothing would move him; he -lay for hours, as a log lies on a stone. I could not have knowledge -whether he was living, only for his breathing sometimes like a moan. -The sound of the bell seemed to call him to life, for he thought it -was his own funeral. His mother is with him; worn out as she is, the -lady awoke at his rambling. She sent me to find out the meaning. Now, -sir, please to go back round the corner; the shivering wind comes down -the passage." - -Hardenow was not such a coward as to obey her orders. He even wanted -to shake hands with her, as in her girlhood he used to do, when he had -frightened this little pupil with too much emendation. But Esther -curtsied at a distance, and started away--until her retreat was cut -off very suddenly. - -"Why, ho girl! Ho girl; and young man in the corner! What is the -meaning of all this? I have come to see things righted; my name is -Worth Oglander. I find this here old house silent as a grave, and you -two looking like a brace of robbers! Young woman!--young woman!--why, -bless me now, if it isn't our own Etty Cripps! I did believe, and I -would believe, but for knowing of your family, Etty, and your brother -Cripps the Carrier, that here you are for the purpose of setting this -old mansion afire!" - -Esther, having been hard set to sustain what had happened already (as -well as unblest with a wink of sleep since Friday night), was now -unable to assert her dignity. She simply leaned against the wall, and -gently blew into the embers of her disinfecting stuff. She knew that -the Squire might kill himself, after all his weeks of confinement, by -coming over here, in this rash manner, and working himself up so. But -it was not her place to say a word; even if she could say it. - -"Mr. Oglander," said Hardenow, coming forward and offering his hand, -while Esther looked at them from beneath a cloud of smoke, "I know -your name better than you know mine. You happened to be on the -continent when I was staying in your village. My name is Thomas -Hardenow. I am a priest of the Anglican Church, and have no intention -of setting anything on fire." - -"Lor' bless me! Lord bless me! Are you the young fellow that turned -half the heads of Beckley, and made the Oxford examiners all tumble -back, like dead herrings with their jaws down? Cripps was in the -schools, and he told me all about it. And you were a friend of poor -Overshute. I am proud to make your acquaintance, sir." - -"Master Cripps has inverted the story, I fear," Hardenow answered, -with a glance at Esther; while he could not, without rudeness, get his -hand out of the ancient Squire's (which clung to another, in this weak -time, as heartily as it used to do); "the examiners made a dry herring -of me. But I am very glad to see you, sir; I have heard of--at least, -I mean, I feared--that you were in weak health almost." - -"Not a bit of it! I was fool enough--or rather I should say, my -sister--to have a lot of doctors down; fellows worth their weight in -gold, or at any rate in brass, every day of their own blessed lives; -and yet with that temptation even, they cannot lengthen their own -days. Of that I will tell you some other time. They kept me indoors, -and they drenched me with physic--this, that, and the other. God bless -you, sir, this hour of the air, with my own old good mare under me, -has done me more good--but my head goes round; just a little; not -anything to notice. Etty, my dear, don't you be afraid." - -With these words the Squire sank down on the floor, not through any -kind of fit, or even loss of consciousness; but merely because his -fine old legs (being quite out of practice for so many weeks) had -found it a little more than they could do to keep themselves firm in -the stirrups, and then carry their master up slippery stairs, and -after that have to support a good deal of excitement among the trunk -parts. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -THROW PHYSIC TO THE DOGS. - - -"In all my life I never knew such a very extraordinary thing," said -Squire Oglander on the following Tuesday, to his old friend Dr. -Splinters. "Why, look you here, he was wholly given up by the very -first man in London--that the poor young fellow was--can you deny -that, Splinters?" - -"Well, between you and me and the door-post, Squire," answered his -learned visitor, "I am not quite so sure that Sir Anthony is quite the -rose and crown of the profession. He may be a great Court card and all -that, and the rage with all the nobility; but for all that, Squire, -there are good men in comparatively obscure positions; men who have -devoted their lives to science from the purest motives; modest men, -sir, who are thankful to pocket their poor guinea; men who would scorn -any handle to their name or any shabby interloping; sir, I say there -are d----d good men----" - -"But even you, Splinters, come now--even you gave him up--unless we -are wholly misinformed." - -"Not at all. That was quite a mistake. The fact was simply this. When -Sir Anthony pronounced his opinion at our last consultation, it was -not my place to contradict him--we never do that with a London -man--but I ventured in my own mind to differ even from our brilliant -light, sir. For I said to myself, 'first see the effect of the -remedial agent which I myself, in the absence of this Londoner, have -exhibited.' I was suddenly called away to retrieve a case of shocking -blundering by a quack at Iffley. That was why you did not see me, -Squire." - -"Oh, yes, to be sure! I quite see now," answered Mr. Oglander, with a -quiet internal wink. "And when you came you found the most wonderful -effect from your remedial agent." - -"That I did. Something I could scarcely have believed. Soft sweet -sleep, a genial perspiration, an equable pulse, nice gentle -breathing--the very conditions of hygiene which Sir Anthony's efforts -could never produce. Why, my good sir, in all the records of the -therapeutic art, there is no example of such rapid efficacy. I think -it will henceforth be acknowledged that Dr. Splinters knows what he is -about. My dear friend, you know that there is nothing I dislike so -much as the appearance of vaunting. If I had only condescended to -that, nobody could have stopped me, sir. But no, Squire, no; I have -always been the same; and I have not an enemy, except myself." - -"You may say more than that, sir--a great deal more than that. You may -say that you have many friends, doctor, who admire your great -abilities. But as to Russel Overshute, if the poor fellow does come -round the general belief will be that he must thank the fire-bell." - -"The fire-bell! My dear sir, in this age of advanced -therapeutics--Oglander, you must know better than to listen to that -low story!" - -"Splinters, I know that foolish tales are told about almost -everything. But being there myself, I thought there might be something -in it." - -"Nothing whatever! I never heard such nonsense! I was quite angry with -Esther Cripps. What can chits of girls know? They must have their -chatter." - -"I suppose they must," said the Squire sadly, thinking of his own dear -Grace; "still they may be right sometimes. At any rate, doctor, the -fire-bell did as much good as your medicine did. Take another glass of -wine. I would not hurt your feelings for the world, my dear old -friend." - -"Oglander," answered Dr. Splinters, putting up his great gold -spectacles, so that beneath them he might see--for he never could see -through them--how to pour out his fine glass of port, "Oglander, you -have something or other that you are keeping in the background. -Squire, whatever it is, out with it. Between you and me, sir, there -should be nothing but downright yes or no, Mr. Oglander. Downright yes -or no, sir." - -"Of course, of course," said the Squire, relapsing into some quiet -mood again; "that was how I always liked it. Splinters, you must know -I did. And I never meant anything against it, by bringing this here -little bottle back. It may have saved the poor boy's life; and of -course it did, if you say so. But the seal is still on the cork, and -the stuff all there; so it may do good again. I dare say the good came -through the glass; you doctors have such devices!" Mr. Oglander took a -small square bottle from his inner peculiar pocket, and gave it to the -doctor, so as not to disturb his wine-glass. - -"How the deuce did you get hold of this?" cried Splinters, being an -angry man when taken without notice; "this is some of that girl's -insolent tricks!--I call her an insolent and wicked girl!" - -"I call her a good and a brave girl!--the very best girl in Beckley, -since--but, my dear Splinters, you must not be vexed. She told me that -you had the greatest faith in this last idea of yours; and it struck -me at once that you might wish to try it in some other case; and so I -brought it. You see it has not been opened." - -"It doesn't matter whether it was used or not," cried Dr. Splinters -vehemently; "there is the stuff, sir; and here is the result! Am I to -understand, sir, that you deny the existence of Providence?" - -"Far be such a thing from me!" the Squire replied, with a little -indignation at such an idea; and then, remembering that Splinters was -his guest, he changed the subject. "How could I help having faith in -the Lord, when I see His care made manifest? Why, look at me, -Splinters; I am twice the man I was last Sunday morning! Why is it so? -Why, because it pleased a gracious Providence to make it my duty, as a -man, to ride!--to ride, sir, a very considerable distance, on a mare -who had been eating her head off. Every one vowed that I never could -do it; and my good housekeeper locked me in; and when I unscrewed the -lock, she sent two men after me, to pick me up. Very good, sir; here I -am, enjoying my glass of port, with the full intention of having -another. Yesterday I sent to our road-contractor for a three-headed -and double-handed hammer; and Kale smashed up, in about two minutes, -three hundred and twenty medicine bottles! They will come in for the -top of the orchard wall." - -"Squire," answered Splinters, with a twinkling eye, "it is not at all -improbable that you may be right. There are some constitutions so -perverse that to exhibit the best remedial agent is just the same -thing as to reason with a pig. But it is high time for me to be -jogging on my road. If Beckley and Shotover discard my extremely -humble services, there are other places in the world, sir, besides -Beckley and Shotover." - -"There is no other place in the world for you, except Beckley, for -some hours, my friend. We have known one another long enough, to allow -for one another now. I would have arranged a rubber for you--but, -but--well, you know what I mean--sadly selfish; but I cannot help it." - -The doctor, though vain and irritable, was easily touched with -softness. He thought of all his many children, and of the long pain he -had felt at losing one out of a dozen; then without process of thought -he felt for the loss of one; where one was all. - -"Oglander, you need not say another word," he answered, putting forth -his hand, to squeeze any trifle away between them. "A rubber in winter -is all very well; and so it is in summer, at the proper time, but on a -magnificent spring evening, to watch the sunset between one's cards is -not--I mean that it is very nice indeed, but still it ought scarcely -to be done, when you can help it. Now, I will just take the leastest -little drop of your grand Curaçoa before I smoke; and then if you have -one of those old Manillas, I am your man for a stroll in the garden." - -To go into a garden in good weather soothes the temper. The freedom of -getting out of doors is a gracious joy to begin with; and when the -first blush of that is past, without any trouble there come forward so -many things to be looked at. Even since yesterday--if we had the good -hap to see them yesterday--many thousand of little things have spent -the time in changing. Even with the weather scarcely different from -yesterday's--though differ it must in some small points, when in its -most consistent mood--even with no man to come and dig, and fork, and -roll, and by all human devices harass; and even without any children -dancing, plucking, pulling, trampling, and enjoying their blessed -little hearts, as freely as any flower does; yet in the absence of all -those local contributions towards variety, variety there will be for -all who have the time to look for it. - -The most observant and delightful poets of the present age, instead of -being masters of nature, prefer to be nature's masters. Having -obtained this power they use it with such diligence and spirit, that -they make the peach and the apple bloom together, and the plum keep -the kalendar of the lilac. Once in a way, such a thing does almost -happen (without the poet's aid)--that is to say, when a long cold -winter is broken by a genial outburst waking every dormant life; and -after that, a repressive chill returns, and lasts to the May month. At -such a time, when hope deferred springs anew as hope assured, and fear -breaks into fluttering joy, and faith moves steadily into growth, then -a truly poetic confusion arises in the works of earth. - -In such a state of things the squire and the doctor walked to and fro -in the garden; the Squire still looking very pale and feeble, but with -the help of his favourite spud, managing to get along, and to enjoy -the evening. The blush of the peach wall was not over, and yet the -trellised apple-tree was softly unsheathing puckered buds, all in -little clusters pointed like rosettes of coral. The petals of the -plum-bloom still were hovering with their edges brown, although in a -corner near a chimney, positively a lilac-bush was thrusting forth -those livid jags which lift and curve themselves so swiftly into -plumes of beauty. The two good gentlemen were surprised; each wanted -particularly to hear what the other thought of it; but neither would -deign to ask; and either feared to speak his thoughts, for fear of -giving the other an advantage. Because they were rival gardeners; and -so they avoided the subject. - -"This is the very first cigar," said the Squire, as they turned at the -end of the peach wall, over against a young Grosse Mignonne, -beautifully trained on the Seymour system, and bright with the central -glow of pistil, although the petals were dropping--"my very first -cigar, since that--you know what I mean, of course--since I have cared -whether I were in my garden, or in my grave. But the Lord supports me. -Providence is good; or how could I be smoking this cigar?" - -"You must not learn to look at things in that way," Dr. Splinters -answered; "Oglander, you must learn to know better. You are in an -uncomfortable frame of mind, or you would not have flouted me with -that bottle, after all our friendship. Why, bless me! Only look around -you. Badly pruned as your trees are, what a picture there is of -largeness!" - -"Yes, Splinters, more than you could find in yours; which you amputate -into a doctor's bamboo. But now, perhaps, you may doubt it, Splinters, -because your trees are so very poor--but I have not felt any pride at -all, any pride at all, in one of them. What is the good of lovely -trees, with only one's self to enjoy them?" - -"Now, Oglander, there you are again! How often must I tell you? Your -poor little Gracie is gone, of course; and a nice little thing she -was, to be sure. But here you are again as well as ever, or at any -rate as positive. I judge a man's state of health very much by his -powers of contradiction. And yours are first-rate. Go to, go to! You -are equal to another wife. Take a young one, and have more Gracies." - -"Splinters, do you know what I should do," Mr. Oglander answered, with -his spud uplifted, "if my powers were such as you suppose--because I -smashed your bottles?" - -"Yes, I dare say you would knock me down, and never beg my pardon till -the wedding breakfast." - -"You are right in the first part; but wrong in the second. Oh, doctor, -is there no one able to share the simplest thoughts we have?" - -"To minister to a mind diseased? First, he must have his own mind -diseased; as all the blessed poets have. But look! The green fly--who -would ever believe it, after our Siberian winter? The aphis is hatched -in your young peach-shoots before they have made even half a joint. -That comes of your Seymour system." - -"Ridiculous!" answered the Squire; "but never mind! What matter now? -Then you really do think, Splinters--now, as an old friend, try to -tell me--in pure sincerity, do you think that I have altogether lost -my Gracie?" - -"Oglander, no! I can truly say no. We are all good Christians, I -should hope. She is not lost, but gone before." - -"But, my dear fellow, will you never understand that she ought to -have gone, long after? It is all very well for you, who have got -some baker's dozen of little ones, and lost only one in the -measles--forgive me, I know it was hard upon you--I say things that I -should not say--but if you could only bring your mind--however, I -daresay you have tried to do it; and what right have I to ask you? -Splinters, I know I am puzzle-headed; and many people think me worse -than that. But you have the sense to understand me, because for many -years you have been acquainted with my constitution. Now, Splinters, -tell me, in three words--shall I live to see my Gracie?" - -"That you will, Squire; and to see her married; and to dance on your -lap her children!" So said Dr. Splinters, fearing what might happen, -if he did not say it. - -"Only to see her. That is all I want. And to have her in my arms once -more. And to hear her tell me, with her own true tongue, that she -never ran away from me. After that I shall be ready for my coffin, and -know that the Lord has ordered it. Here comes more of your dust into -my eyes! Splinters, will you never learn how to knock your ash off?" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -CRIPPS ON CELIBACY. - - -Whatever might or may be said by any number of most able and homicidal -physicians, Russel Overshute will believe, as long as he draws breath -of life, that by the grace of the Lord he owes that privilege to the -fire-bell. In this belief he has always been most strongly supported -by Esther Cripps, who perhaps was the first to suggest the idea; for -he at that time must have failed to know a fire-bell from a -water-bucket. The doctors had left him, through no fear for their own -lives, but in despair of his. There was far less risk of infection now -than in the earlier stages. No sooner, however, did the household find -out that the medical men had abandoned the case, than panic seized -their gallant hearts, and with one accord they ran away. From Saturday -morning till Saturday night, when Esther came from Beckley, there was -nobody left to watch and soothe the poor despairing misery, except the -helpless and worn-out mother. - -One thing is certain (and even the doctors, with their usual -sharpness, found it wise to acknowledge this)--both Mr. Overshute and -his mother must have been dead bodies with little hope of Christian -burial, if that brave girl had not set forth (without any one even -asking her) on the Saturday night to help them. Mrs. Overshute had -quite thrown up all hope of everything--save the mercy of God in a -better world, and His justice upon her enemies--when quite in the dark -this young girl came, while she was lying down on her back, and -curtsied, and asked her pleasure. - -If Esther had not curtsied, perhaps Mrs. Overshute in that state of -mind would have taken her for an angel; though Etty's bonnet, made by -herself, was not at all angelical. But she knew her for one of the -lower orders (who bend knee instead of neck), and belonging herself to -a fine old race, she rallied her last energies with a power of -condescension. - -However, these are medical, physical, social, economical, and perhaps -even psychological questions--wherein what remains except perpetual -inquiry? Enough is to say that Russell Overshute, having long had a -ringing in his ears, was rung out of that, and rung back to life, by -the lively peal of the fire-bell. And ever since that, whenever he is -ill--though it be only a little touch of gout--he immediately sends a -good corpulent man to lay hold of the rope and swing to it. These -things are of later date. For the present, this young man (although he -certainly had turned the corner) lay still in a very precarious state, -with a feeble mother to pray for him. Mrs. Overshute held that same -vile fever, but in a very different form, as at her time of life was -natural. With her it was intermittent, low, stealthy, and undermining. -It never affected her brain, or drove her into furious calenture, but -rooted slowly inward, preying on her life quite leisurely. Their cases -differed, as a knock-down blow differs from a quiet grasp. - -But though the house lay still in sadness, loneliness, and dull -suspense, and though the doctors, having abandoned the case, had the -manners not to come again, still from day to day there was some little -growth of liveliness. Hardenow came almost daily, having put his class -of striders under a deputy six-leaguer; the Squire also might be -expected, whenever Mother Hookham let him out; and even Zacchary -Cripps renewed an old washing in that direction. He came, with the -hoops of his cart taken out, because of the beautiful weather, and -four good baskets of clothes for to wash (whose wearers were happy -enough to have no idea where their "things" were), and quite at the -centre of his gravity--as felt by himself, and endorsed by -Dobbin--anybody getting up with a curious eye might well have beheld a -phenomenon. For here stood a very large pickling tub, with the cover -taken off for the sake of air; around the sides was salted pork--hands -and springs, and belly pieces--and in the middle was a good-sized -barrel of the then existent native. - -"Veed 'un," cried Cripps, with his coat-tails up, while tugging at his -heavy tub; "veed 'un, Etty, whatsomever 'ee do. Salt is the main thing -for 'un now. I have heerd tell that they burns away every bit of the -salt inside 'em, in these here bouts of fever. If 'ee can replace 'un, -laife comes round; or else they goes off, like the snuff of a candle. -Bless me, I must be getting fevery myzell, or never should have a job -to lift this here. Now the quality of this pickle you know well, for -the most part fell on your shoulders. Home-bred, home-born, home-fed, -home-slaughtered, and home-salted--that's what I calls pork!" - -"Yes, to be sure, Zak," Etty answered, laying her hand to the tub upon -the shaft-stock, while Dobbin wagged his tail at her; "but what have -you got in this very small cask, sitting in the middle of all the -brine?" - -"Why, you know, Etty, you must have seed me bring 'em for all the -great folk about Christmas-tide. Oysters, as lives in the sea, and -must be salt inside of their barryels. So I clapped them in here for a -fresh smack of it, and uncommonly strengthening things they be if you -take them with enow of treble X. Likely his worship will be too weak -to keep them down with the covers on yet, as is the proper way, they -tell me; so you best way take out the hearts and give him." - -"Oh, brother," cried Esther, remembering suddenly, "I ought not to be -talking to you like this. Whatever could I be thinking of? What would -the people at Beckley say? They would fear to come nigh you for a -month, Zak, and your business would be ruined. Now, do jog on, you and -dear old Dobbin. How well I knew the sound of his old feet. I can't -give you the fever, Dobbin, can I?" - -With this perhaps incorrect or, at any rate, unestablished hypothesis, -she gave the old horse a lingering kiss just below his blinkers, in -return for which he jerked off some froth on the sleeve of her dress, -and shook himself; while the Carrier, having discharged his cargo, -smote himself with both arms, from habit rather than necessity, and -approached his young sister for his usual hearty smack. - -"No, Zak, no," she cried, running up the steps, "I have no fear of -taking it myself whatever; but if I should happen to give it to you, I -never should get over it." - -"Well, well, little un, the Lord knows best," Master Cripps answered, -without repining too bitterly at this arrangement; "but ating of my -victuals lonesome is worse than having no salt to them; you better -come home pretty soon, my dear, or somehow or other there might happen -to be some one over in the corner, 'longside of our best frying-pan." - -Etty had heard this threat so often, that now she only laughed at it. -But instead of laughing, she blushed most sadly at her brother's -parting words: - -"God bless you, Etty, for a brave good girl; and speed you home to -Beckley. You want more sleep of nights, my dear; your cheeks are -getting like a pillow-case. But excoose my mentioning of one thing, -Etty; I be like a father to 'ee; don't 'ee have more than you can help -to say to the great scholard, Master Hardenow." - -Cripps was a gentleman, in an inner kind of way, and he took good care -to be getting up his shaft (with his stiff knee stiffer than ever, -from the long frost of last winter) while he discharged his duty, as -he thought it, at, as well as to, his sister. Then he deposited the -polished part of his breeches on the driving-board, and brought his -"game-leg" into the right stick-out, and with his usual deliberation -started--nay, that is too strong a word--persuaded into progress his -congenial and deliberate horse. Neither of them hurried on a -washing-day, any more than they hurried upon any other day. - -Zacchary knew that his sister was--as Master Phil Hiss had said of -her--"a most terrible hand at blushing;" and she could not bear to be -looked at in this electric aurora of maidenhood; and therefore he -managed to be a long way off, ere even he turned both head and hand, -to deliver last issue of "God bless you!" - -Full of confusion about herself, and clearness of duty for other -people, Esther Cripps ran in, to see to the many things now depending -upon her. There were now three servants in the house, gathered from -good stuff around, but wholly void of any wit, to make up for want of -experience. Esther had no experience either, but she possessed good -store of sense, and quickness, and kind energy. Whatever she thought -of her brother's warning, she would think of afterwards. For the -present she must do her best concerning other people; and Mrs. -Overshute needed now more nursing than her son did. - -Zacchary Cripps, at the very first distance at which he was sure of -not being seen, began to shake his head, and shook it, in a resolutely -reflective way, for nearly three quarters of a mile. The trees above -him were alive with beauty, alike of sight, and sound, and scent; and -the Carrier made up his mind for a pipe, to enable him to consider -things. His custom was not to smoke, except when good occasion -offered; and he tried to have no contempt for carriers (of inferior -family) who could not deliver a side of bacon without smoking it over -again almost. Zacchary Cripps, like all good men, stood up for the -dignity of his work. Strictly meditating thus, he saw a slight figure -approaching with a rapid swing, and presently met Mr. Hardenow. - -The fellow and tutor of Brazenose, at the sight of Cripps and the -well-known cart, stopped short to ask how things were going on at the -house on the hill above them. The Carrier answered that it would be -many a long day, he was afraid, ere his worship could get about again, -and that he ought to be kept very quiet, and those would be his best -friends now who had the least to say to him. Also he was told that the -poor old lady would find it as much as her life was worth, if she was -interrupted or terrified now. - -"But, my good Cripps," answered Hardenow, "I am not going either to -interrupt or terrify them. All I desire is to have a little talk with -your good and intelligent sister." - -Poor Zacchary felt that his own tactics thus were turned against him; -and, after a little stammering and heightened glow of countenance, he -betook himself to his more usual course--that of plain out-speaking. -But first he got down from his driving-board that he might not fail in -due respect to a gentleman and clergyman. Master Cripps had no liking -at all for the duty which he felt bound to take in hand. He would -rather have a row with three turnpike-men than presume to speak to a -gentleman; therefore his bow-leg seemed to twitch him at the knee, as -he led Hardenow aside into a quiet gateway; but his eyes were firm and -his manner grave and steadfast as he began to speak. - -"Mr. Hardenow, now I must ask your pardon, for a few words as I want -to say. You are a gentleman, of course, and a very learned scholar; -and I be nothing but a common carrier--a 'carrier for hire,' they -calls me in the law, when they comes upon me for damages. Howsoever, I -has to do my part off the road as well as on it, sir; and my dooty to -them of my own household comes next to my dooty to God and myzell. You -are a good man, I know, and a kind one, and would not, beknown to -yourself, harm any one. It would go to your heart, I believe, Mr. -Hardenow, from what I seed of you, when you was quite a lad, if anyhow -you was to be art or part in bringing unhappiness of mind to any that -had trusted you." - -"I should hope so, Cripps. I have some idea of what you mean, but can -hardly think--at any rate, speak more plainly." - -"Well then, sir, I means all about your goings on with our little -Etty, or, at any rate, her goings on with you, which cometh to the -same thing in the end, so far as I be acquaint of it. You might think, -if you was not told distinkly to the contrairy, that having no -business to lift up her eyes, she never would do so according. But I -do assure you, sir, when it cometh to such like manner of taking on, -the last thing as ever gets called into the account is sensible -reason. They feels this, and they feels that; and then they falls to -a-dreaming; and the world goes into their tub, same as butter, and -they scoops it out, and pats, and stamps it to their own size and -liking, and then the whole melteth, and a sour fool is left." - -"Master Cripps, what you say is wise; and the like has often happened. -But your sister is a most noble girl. You do her gross injustice by -talking as if she were nothing but a common village maid. She is -brave, she is pure, she is grandly unselfish. Her mind is well above -feminine average; anything more so goes always amiss. You should not -have such a low opinion as you seem to have of your sister, Cripps." - -"Sir, my opinion is high enough. Now, to bring your own fine words to -the test, would you ever dream of marrying the maid, if I and she both -was agreeable?" - -"It would be an honour to me to do so. For the prejudices of the world -I care not one fig. But surely you know that we contend for the -celibacy of the clergy." - -"Maning as a parson maun't marry a wife?" asked Cripps, by the light -of nature. - -"Yes, my friend, that is what we now maintain in the Anglican -communion, as the tradition of the Church." - -"Well, may I be danged!" cried Cripps, who was an ardent theologian. -"Then, if I may make so bold to ask, sir, how could there a' been a -tribe of Levi? They must all a' died out in the first generation; if -'em ever come to any generation at all." - -"Your objection is ingenious, Cripps; but the analogy fails entirely. -We are guided in such matters by unbroken and unquestionable tradition -of the early Church." - -"Then, sir, if you goes outside of the Bible, you stand on your own -legs, and leave us no kind of leg to stand upon. However, I believe -that you mean well, sir, and I am sure that you never do no great -harm. And, as to our Etty, if you feel like that in an honest, -helpless sort of way, I beg the honour of shaking hands, sir, for the -spirit that is inside of you." - -"Certainly, certainly, Cripps, with great pleasure!" - -"And then of asking you to tramp another road, for your own sake, as -well as hers, sir. And may the Lord teach you to know your own mind." - -"Cripps, I will follow your advice for the present; though you have -said some things that you scarcely ought to say." - -"Then I humbly beg your pardon, sir. Every one of us doeth that same -sometimes. The bridle of the tongue falleth into the teeth, when the -lash is laid on us." - -"Your metaphors are quite classical. However, I respect you greatly, -Cripps, for your straightforward conduct. I am not a weak man, any -more than you are; although you seem to think me one. I like and -admire your sister Esther, for courage combined with gentleness. I -always liked her, when she was a child; and I understood her nature. -But as to her--liking me more than she ought; Cripps, you are -imaginative." - -"Never heerd before," cried Cripps, "any accoosation of that there -kind." - -"My friend, it is the rarest compliment. However, your horse is quite -ready to walk off; and so am I, towards Cowley. I will not go to -Shotover Grange to-day; and I will avoid your sister; though I rarely -do like talking to her." - -"You are a man sir," cried Zacchary Cripps, as Hardenow set off across -the fields. "God bless your reverence, though you never get a waife! A -true man he is, and a maight a' been a faine one, if he hadn't taken -to them stiff coat tails." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -KIT. - - -In the meanwhile, Mrs. Luke Sharp was growing very anxious about her -son, and only child and idol, Christopher. Not that there was anything -at all amiss with his bodily health, so far at least as she could see; -but that he seemed so unsettled in his mind, so absent and -preoccupied, and careless even of his out-door sports, which at one -time were his only care. Of course, at this time of year, there was -very little employment for the gun, but there was plenty of fishing to -be got, such as it was, round Oxford, and it must be a very bad time -of year when there are no rats for little terriers, and badgers for -the larger tribe. Yet none of these things now possessed the proper -charm for Christopher. Wherever he was, he always seemed to be wanting -to be somewhere else; and, like a hydrophobic dog, he hated to be -looked at; while (after the manner of a cat assisted lately by Lucina) -he ran up into his own loft, when he thought there was nobody -watching. - -Well arranged as all this might be, and keen, and self-satisfactory, -there was something keener, and not very easy to satisfy, looking -after it. The love of a mother may fairly be trusted to outwit any -such calf-love as was making a fool of this unfledged fellow, fresh -from the feather-bed of a private school. - -Considering whence he came, and how he had been brought up and -pampered, Kit Sharp was a very fine young fellow, and--thanks to his -liking for gun and rod--he could scarcely be called a milksop. Still -he was only a boy in mind, and in manner quite unformed and shy; his -father (for reasons of his own) having always refused to enter him at -any of the colleges. He might perhaps have shaped his raw material by -the noblest models, if he had been admitted into the society of -undergraduates. But the members of the University entertained in those -days, and probably still entertain, a just and inevitable contempt for -all the non-togati. Kit Sharp had made some fluttering overtures of -the flag of friendship towards one or two random undergraduates who -had a nice taste for ratting; he had even dined and wined, once or -twice, in a not ignoble college; and had been acknowledged to know a -meerschaum as well as if he owned a statute-book. But the boy always -fancied, perhaps through foolish and shy pride on his part, that these -most hospitable and kind young men had their jokes to themselves about -him. Perhaps it was so; but in pure goodwill. Take him for all in all, -and allow for the needs of his situation--which towards the third year -grow imperative--and the Oxford undergraduate is as good as any other -young gentleman. - -But Kit Sharp being exceedingly proud, and most secretive of his -pride, would not long receive, without return, good hospitality. And -this alone, without other suspicions, would have set bounds to his -dealing with a race profusely hospitable. His dear and good mother -would gladly have invited a Cross Duck Houseful of undergraduates, and -left them to get on as they might, if only thereby her pet son might -have sense of salt for salt with them; but Mr. Luke Sharp took a -different view. To his mind, the junior members of the glorious -University were a most disagreeable and unprofitable lot to deal with. -He never, of course, condescended to the Vice-Chancellor's court, and -he despised all little actions, in that large word's legal sense. He -liked a fine old Don, or Head of a House, who had saved a sack of -money, or well earned it by vitality. But for any such young fellows, -with no expectations, or paulo-post-futura such, Mr. Sharp was now too -long established to put a leaf into his dinner-table. This being so, -and Christopher also of restricted pocket-money (so that no dinners at -the Star or Mitre could be contemplated), Master Kit Sharp, in a "town -and gown row," must have lent the weight of his quiet, but very -considerable, fist to the oppidan faction. - -"Kit, now, my darling Kit, do tell me," said Mrs. Sharp for about the -fiftieth time, as she sat with her son in the sweet spring twilight, -at the large western window of Cross Duck House; "what is it that -makes you sigh so? You almost break your poor mother's heart. I never -did know you sigh, my own one. Now, is it for want of a rat, my -darling? If rats are a sovereign apiece, you shall have one." - -"Rats, mother! Why, I can catch my own, without any appeal to 'the -Filthy!' Rats are never far away from legal premises, like these." - -"You should not speak so of your father's house, Kit. And I am sure -that no rats ever come upstairs, or out of the window I must jump. But -now you are only avoiding the subject. What is it that disturbs your -mind, Kit?" - -"Once more, mother, I have the greatest objection to being called -'Kit.' It sounds so small, and--and so horribly prosaic. All the -dictionaries say that it means, either the outfit of a common soldier, -or else a diminutive kind of fiddle." - -"Christopher, I really beg your pardon. I know how much loftier you -are, of course; but I cannot get over the habit, Kit. Well, well, -then--My darling, I hope you are not at all above being 'my darling,' -Kit." - -"Mother, you may call me what you like. It can make no difference in -my destinies." - -"Christopher, you make my blood run cold. My darling, I implore you -not to sigh so. Your dear father pays my allowance on Monday. I know -what has long been the aspiration of your heart. Kit, you shall have a -live badger of your own." - -"I hate the very name of rats and badgers. Everything is so low and -nasty. How can you look at that noble sunset, and be full of badgers? -Mother, it grieves me to leave you alone; but how can I help it, when -you go on so? I shall go for a walk on the Botley Road." - -"Take your pipe, Kit, take your pipe; whatever you do, Kit, take your -pipe," screamed poor Mrs. Sharp, as he stuck his hat on, as if it were -never to come off again. "Oh, Kit, there are such deep black holes; I -will fill your pipe for you, if you will only smoke." - -"Mother, you never know how to do it. And once more, my name is -'Christopher.'" - -The young man threw a light cloak on his shoulder, and set his -eyebrows sternly; and his countenance looked very picturesque in the -glow of his death's-head meerschaum. It occurred to his mother that -she had never seen anything more noble. As soon as she had heard him -bang the door, Mrs. Sharp ran back to the window, whence she could -watch all Cross Duck Lane, and she saw him striding along towards the -quickest outlet to the country. - -"How wonderful it is!" she said to herself, with tears all ready; -"only the other day he was quite a little boy, and whipped a top, and -cried if a pin ran into him. And now he is, far beyond all dispute, -the finest young man in Oxford; he has the highest contempt for all -vulgar sports, and he bolts the door of his bedroom. His father calls -him thick and soft! Ah, he cannot understand his qualities! There is -the deepest and purest well-spring of unintelligible poetry in Kit. -His great mind is perturbed, and has hurried him into commune with the -evening star. Thank goodness that he has got his pipe!" - -Before Mrs. Sharp had turned one page of her truly voluminous thoughts -about her son, a sharp click awoke the front-door lock, and a steady -and well-jointed step made creaks on the old oak staircase. Mrs. Sharp -drew back from her meditative vigil, and trimmed her little curls -aright. - -"Miranda, I have some work to do to-night," said Mr. Sharp, in his -quiet even voice; "and I thought it better to come up and tell you, so -that you need not expect me again. Just have the fire in the office -lighted. I can work better there than I can upstairs; and I find the -evenings damp, although the long cold winter is gone at last. If I -should ring about ten o'clock it will be for a cup of coffee. If I do -not ring then, send everybody to bed. And do not expect me until you -see me." - -"Certainly, Luke, I quite understand," answered Mrs. Sharp, having -been for years accustomed to such arrangements; "but, my dear, before -you begin, can you spare me five minutes, for a little conversation?" - -"Of course I can, Miranda! I am always at your service." - -Mrs. Sharp thought to herself that this was a slight exaggeration. -Still on the whole she had little to complain of. Mr. Sharp always -remembered the time when he cast sad distant eyes at her, Miranda -Piper,--more enchanting than a will-case, more highly cherished than -the deed-box of an Earl. Nothing but impudence had enabled him to -marry her; thereby his impudence was exhausted in that one direction, -and he ever remained polite to her. - -"Then, Luke, will you just take your favourite chair, and answer me -only one question?" As she said these words, Mrs. Sharp took care to -set the chair so that she could get the last gleam of sunset on her -dear lord's face. Her husband thoroughly understood all this, and -accepted the situation. - -"Now, do tell me, Luke--you notice everything, though you do not -always speak of it--have you observed how very strangely Kit has been -going on for some time now? And have you any idea of the reason? And -do you think that we ought to allow it, my dear?" - -"Yes, Mrs. Sharp, I have observed it. You need not be at all uneasy -about it. I am observing him very closely. When I disapprove, I shall -stop it at once." - -"But surely, my dear, surely I, his mother, am not to be kept in the -dark about it? I know that you always take your own course, and your -course is quite sure to be the right one; but surely, my dear, when -something important is evidently going on about my own child, you -would never have the heart to keep it from me. I could not endure it; -indeed, I could not. I should fret myself away to skin and bone." - -"It would take a long time to do that, my dear," replied Mr. Sharp, as -he looked with satisfaction at her fine plump figure. It pleased him -to hear, as he often did, that there was not in Oxford a finer couple -of middle-aged people than Mr. and Mrs. Sharp. "However, I should be -exceedingly grieved ever to initiate such a process. But first, before -I tell you anything at all, I will ask you to promise two things most -clearly." - -"My dear, I would promise fifty things rather than put up with this -cruel anxiety." - -"Yes, I dare say. But I do not want rash promises, Miranda. You must -pledge yourself to two things, and keep your pledges." - -"I will do so in a moment, with the greatest pleasure. You would never -ask anything wrong, I am sure. Only do not keep me waiting so." - -"In the first place, then, you must promise me, whether my plan turns -out well or ill, on no account to blame me for it, but to give me the -credit of having acted for the best throughout." - -"Nothing can be easier than to promise that. My dear, you always do -act for the best; and what is more, the best always comes of it." - -"Very well, you promise that; also, you must pledge yourself to -conceal from every one, and most of all from Christopher, everything I -am about to tell you, and to act under my directions." - -"To be sure, my dear; to be sure, I will. Nothing is more reasonable -than that I should keep your secrets." - -"I know that you will try, Miranda; and I know that you have much -self-command. Also, you will see the importance of acting as I direct -you. All I fear is that when you see poor Kit moping, or sighing, and -groaning, it may be almost beyond your power to refrain your motherly -heart." - -"Have no fear, Luke; have no fear whatever. When I know that it is for -his true interest, as of course it will be, I shall be exceedingly -sorry for him; but still he may go on as much as he pleases; and of -course, he has not behaved well at all, in being so mysterious to his -own mother." - -Luke Sharp looked at his wife, to ask whether any offshoot of this -reproach was intended at all to come home to him. If he had discovered -any sign of that, the wife of his bosom would have waited long without -getting another word from him. For seldom as Mr. Sharp showed temper, -he held back, with the chain-curb of expedience, as quick a temper as -ever threatened to bolt with any man's fair repute. But now he -received no irritation. His wife looked back at him kindly and -sweetly, with moist expressive eyes; and he saw that she still was in -her duty. - -"Miranda," he said, being touched by this, for he had a great deal of -conscience, "my darling, I will tell you something such as you never -heard before. I have made a bold stroke, a very bold one; but I think -it must succeed. And justice is with me, as you will own, after all -the attempts to rob us. Perhaps you never heard a stranger story; but -still I am sure you will agree with me, that in every step I have -taken I am most completely and perfectly justified." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -A WOOLHOPIAN. - - -It is only fair towards Mr. Sharp to acquit him of all intention to -trust his wife with a very important secret, as long as he could help -it. He was well aware of the risk he ran in taking such a desperate -step; but the risk was forced upon him now by several circumstances. -Also, he wanted her aid just now, in a matter in which he could not -possibly have it without trusting her. Hence he resolved to make a -virtue of necessity, as the saying is, and at the same time get the -great relief which even a strong mind, in long scheming, obtains, by -having its burden shared. - -This resolve of his was no sudden one. For several days he had made up -his mind, that when he should be questioned upon the subject--which he -foresaw must happen--he would earn the credit of candour, and the -grace of womanly gratitude, by making a clean breast of it. There -could be no better season than this. The house was quiet; his son was -away; the shadows of the coming evening softly fell before her step; -Cross Duck Lane looked very touching in the calm of twilight; and Mrs. -Sharp was in the melting mood. Therefore the learned and conscientious -lawyer perceived that the client's affairs, about which he was going -to busy himself, might safely wait for another day, while he was -sweeping his own hearth clean. So he locked the door, and looked out -of the window, where sparrows were swarming to their ivy roost; and -then he drew in the old lattice, and turned the iron tongue that -fastened it. Mrs. Sharp looked on, while some little suggestion of -fear came to qualify eagerness. - -"Luke, I declare you quite make me nervous. I shall be afraid to go to -bed to-night. Really, a stranger, or a timid person, would think you -were going to confess a murder!" - -"My dear, if you feel at all inclined to give way," Mr. Sharp -answered, as if glad to escape, "we will have out our talk -to-morrow--or, no--to-morrow I have an appointment at Woodstock. The -day after that we will recur to it. I see that it will be better so." - -"Luke, is your mind astray? I quite fear so. Can you imagine that I -could wait for two days, after what you have told me?" - -"My dear, I was only considering yourself. If you wish it, I will -begin at once. Only for your own sake, I must insist on your sitting -calmly down. There, my dear! Now, do not agitate yourself. There is -nothing to frighten anybody. It is the most simple thing; and you will -laugh, when you have heard it." - -"Then I wish I had heard it, Luke. For I feel more inclined to cry -than laugh." - -"Miranda, you must not be foolish. Such a thing is not at all like -you. Very well, now you are quite sedate. Now please not to interrupt -me once; but ask your questions afterwards. If you ask me a question I -shall stop, and go to the office with my papers." Mr. Sharp looked at -his wife; and she bowed her head in obedience. "To begin at the very -beginning," he said, with a smile to re-assure her, "you will do me -the justice to remember that I have worked very hard for my living. -And I have prospered well, Miranda, having you as both the foundation -and the crown of my prosperity. I was perfectly satisfied, as you -know, living quite up to my wishes, and putting a little cash by every -year of our lives, and paying on a heavy life-insurance, in case of my -own life dropping--for the sake of you and Christopher. You know all -that?" - -"Darling Luke, I do. But you make me cry, when you talk like that." - -"Very well. That is as it should be. We were as happy as need be -expected, until the great wrong befell us--the fierce injustice of -losing every farthing to which we were clearly entitled. You were the -proper successor to all the property of old Fermitage. That old -curmudgeon, and wholesale poisoner of the University, made a fool of -himself, towards his latter end, by marrying Miss Oglander. Old -Black-Strap, as of course we know, had no other motive for doing such -a thing, except his low ambition to be connected with a good old -family. Ever since he began life as a bottleboy, in the cellars of old -Jerry Pigaud----" - -"He never did that, Luke. How can you speak so of my father's own -first cousin? He was an extremely respectable young man; my father -always said so." - -"While he was making his money, Miranda, of course he was respectable. -And everybody respected him, as soon as he had made it. However, I -have not the smallest intention of reproaching the poor old villain. -He acted according to his lights, and they led him very badly. A -foolish ambition induced him to marry that pompous old maid, Joan -Oglander, who had been jilted by Commodore Patch, the son of the -famous captain. We all know what followed; the old man was but a doll -in the hands of his lady-wife. He left all the scrapings and screwings -of his life, for her to do what she pleased with--at least, everybody -supposes so." - -"What do you mean, Luke?" asked Mrs. Sharp, having inkling of legal -surprises. "Do you mean that there is a later will? Has he done -justice to me, after all?" - -"No, my dear. He never saved his soul by attending to his own kindred. -But he just had the sense to make a little change at last, when his -wife would not come near him. You know what he died of. It was coming -on for weeks; though at last it struck him suddenly. The port-wine -fungus of his old vaults grew into his lungs, and stopped them. It had -shown for some time in his face and throat; and his wife was afraid of -catching it. She took it to be some infectious fever, of which she is -always so terribly afraid. The old man knew that his time was short; -but take to his bed he would not. Of all born men the most stubborn he -was; as any man must be, to get on well. 'If I am to die of the -fungus,' he said, 'I will have a little more of it.' And he went, and -with his own hands hunted up a magnum of port, which had been laid by, -from the vintage of 1745, in the first days of Jerry Pigaud. But -before that, he had sent for me; and I was there when he opened it." - -"Luke, you take my breath away. Such wonderful things I have never -heard. At least, not in our own family." - -"Of course, my dear. We all accept wonders with quietude, till they -come home to us. Well, when he fetched out this old bottle, it was -fungus inside from heel to neck. He held it up against the light, and -the glass being whiter than now they make, and the wine gone almost -white with age, there you could see this extraordinary growth, like -cords in the bottle, and valves across it, and a long yellow sheath -like a crocus-flower. I had never seen anything like it before; but he -knew all about it. 'Ah, I know a genleman,' he grunted in his -throat--he never could say 'gentleman,' as you remember--'a genleman -as would give a hundred guineas for this here bottle! Quibbles, he -shouldn't have it for a thousand! My boy, you and I will drink it. Say -no, and I'll cut off your wife with a half-penny!' Miranda, what could -I do but try to humour him to the utmost? If I had had the smallest -inkling of the iniquitous will he had made, of course, I never would -have sat on the head of the cask, down in his dingy and reeking -vaults, by the hour together, to please him. But never mind that--in a -moment he took a long-handled knife, or chopper, and holding the -bottle upright, struck off the neck and a part of the shoulder, as -straight as a line, at the level of the wine. 'Not many men could do -that,' he said; 'none of your clumsy cork-screwers for me! Now, -Quibbles, here's a real treat for you! Talk of beeswing, my boy, -here's a beehive!' And really it was more like eating than drinking -wine; for all the body was gone into the fungus. Nastier stuff I never -tasted; but, luckily, he took the lion's share. 'Now, Quibbles, I'll -tell you a secret,' he said, after swallowing at least a quart; 'a -very pretty girl came and kissed me t'other day, in among these very -bottles. Such a little duck--not a bit ashamed or afeared of my -fungus, as my missus is. And her breath was as sweet as the violets of -'20! "Well now, my little dear," thinks I, as I stood back and looked -at her, "that was kind of you to kiss an old man a-dying of port wine -fungus! And if he only lives another day, you shall have the right to -kiss the Royal family, if you cares to do it." Quibbles, I wouldn't -call in you, nor any other thief of a lawyer. Lawyers are very well -over a glass; but keep 'em outside of the cellar, say I. Very good -company, in their way; but the only company I put trust in is the one -I have dealt with all my life,--and many a thousand pounds I have paid -them--The Royal Wine Company of Oporto. So now, if anything happens to -me--though I am not in such a hurry to be binned away, and walled up -for the resurrection--Quibbles, wait six months; and then you go to -the Royal Oporto Company, and ask for a genleman of the name of Jolly -Fellows.'" - -"Now, Luke, I am all anxiety to hear," exclaimed Mrs. Sharp, with a -sudden interruption, "what was the end of this very strange affair. I -perceive now that I have foreseen the whole of it. But it is not right -that you should speak so long, without one morsel of refreshment. It -is many hours since you dined, my dear, and a very poor dinner you had -of it. You shall have a glass of white wine, and a slice of tongue, -between a little cold roll and butter. It will not in any way -interrupt you. I can get it all for you, without ringing the bell. -Only let me ask you one thing first--why have you never told me this -till now?" - -"Because, Miranda, it would disturb your mind. And I know that you -cannot endure suspense. Moreover, I scarcely knew what to think of it. -Poor old Fermitage (what with the fungus already in his tubes, and -what he was taking down) might be talking sheer nonsense for all that -I knew. And indeed, for a long time I treated it so; and I had no -stomach for a voyage to Oporto, upon mere speculation, and for the -benefit only of some pretty girl. Then I found out, by the purest -chance, that no voyage to Oporto was needful, that old 'Port-wine' -(who departed on his cask to a better world, the day after his magnum) -meant nothing more than the London stores and agency of the Oporto -Company. And even after that I made one expedition to the Minories, -all for nothing. Two or three very polite young dons stared at me, and -thought I was come to chaff them, or perhaps had turned up from their -vaults top-heavy, when I asked for 'Senhor Jolly Fellows.' And so I -came away, and lost some months, and might never have thought it worth -while to go again, except for another mere accident." - -"My dear, what a chapter of accidents!" cried Mrs. Sharp, while -feeding him. "I thought that you were a great deal too clever to allow -any room for accidents." - -"Women think so. Men know better," the lawyer replied sententiously; -his ability was too well-known to need his vindication. "And, Miranda, -you forget that I had as yet no personal interest in the question. But -when I happened to have a Portuguese gentleman as a client--a man who -had spent many years in England--and happened to be talking of our -language to him, I told him one part of the story, and asked if he -could throw any light on it. He told me at once that the name which -had so puzzled me must be Gelofilos--a Portuguese surname, by no means -common. And the next time I was in town, I had occasion to call in St. -John's Street, and found myself, almost by accident again, not far -from the Company's offices." - -"Mr. Sharp, you left such a thing to chance, when you knew that it -might pull down that dreadful woman's insolence!" - -"My dear, it is not the duty of my life to mitigate feminine -arrogance. And to undertake such a crusade, gratis! I am equal to a -bold stroke, as you will see, if your patience lasts--but never to -such a vast undertaking. When it comes before me, in the way of -business, naturally I take it up. But this was no business of my own; -and the will was proved, and assets called in; for the old rogue did -not owe one penny. Well, I went again, and this time I got hold of the -right man---- Miranda, I hear the bell!" - -The new office-bell, the successor to the one that succumbed to Russel -Overshute, rang as hard as ring it could. A special messenger was come -from London, and in half an hour Mr. Luke Sharp was sitting on the box -of the night up mail. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -NIGHTINGALES. - - -This sudden departure of Mr. Luke Sharp, in the very marrow of his -story, left his good wife in a trying and altogether discontented -state of mind. She knew that she could have no more particulars until -he came back again; for Sharp had even less faith in the post than the -post of that period deserved. She might have to wait for days and -days, with a double anxiety urging her. - -In the first place, although she felt nothing but pity for poor old -Mrs. Fermitage, and would have been really sorry to hear of anything -likely to vex her, she could not help being desirous to know if there -were any danger of a thing so sad. But her second anxiety was a great -deal keener, being sharpened by the ever moving grit of love; in the -dreadful state of mind her son was in, how would all this act upon -him? His father had been forced, by some urgency of things, to put on -his box-coat, and make off, without even time for a hurried whisper as -to the residue of his tale. Mrs. Sharp felt that there might be -something which her husband feared to spread before her, without -plenty of time to lead up to it; and having for many years been -visited (whenever she was not quite herself) with poignant doubts -whether Mr. Sharp was anchored upon Scriptural principles, she almost -persuaded herself for the moment that he meant to put up with the loss -of the money. - -However, a little reflection sufficed to clear away this sadly awful -cloud of scepticism, and to assure her that Mr. Sharp, however he -might swerve in theory, would be orthodox enough in practice to follow -the straight path towards the money. And then she began to think of -nothing except her own beloved Kit. - -The last hurried words of her husband had been--"Not one word to Kit, -or you ruin all; let him groan as he likes; only watch him closely. I -shall be back by Saturday night. God bless you, my dear! Keep up your -spirits. I have the whip-hand of the lot of them." - -Herein lay her faith and hope. She never had known her husband fail, -when he really made up his mind to succeed; and therefore in the -bottom of her heart she doubted the genuine loss of Grace Oglander. -Sharp had discovered, and traced to their end, clues of the finest -gossamer, when his interest led him to do so. That he should be -baffled, and own himself to be so, was beyond her experience. -Therefore, although as yet she had no more than a guess at her -husband's schemes, she could not help fancying, after his words, that -they might have to do with Grace Oglander. - -Before she had time to think out her thoughts, Christopher, their main -subject, returned from Wytham Wood, after holding long rivalry of woe -with nightingales. He still carried on, and well-carried off, the -style of the love-lorn Romeo. He swung his cloak quite as well as -could be expected of an Englishman--who is born to hate fly-away -apparel, all of which is womanish; but the necessities of his position -had driven him now to a very short pipe. His favourite meerschaum had -fallen into sorrow as terrible as his own. In a highly poetical moment -he had sucked it so hard that the oil arose, and took him with a hot -spot upon a white tongue, impregnated then with a sonnet. All sonnets -are of the tongue and ear; but Kit misliked having his split up, just -when it was coming to the final kick. Therefore he gave his pipe a -thump, beyond such a pipe's endurance; and being as sensitive as -himself, and of equally fine material, it simply refused to draw any -more, as long as he breathed poetry. Still breathing poetry, he -marched home, with the stump of a farthing clay, newly baked in the -Summertown Road, to console him. - -Now, if this young man had failed of one of the triple human -combination--weed, and clay, and fire--where and how might he have -ended not only that one evening, but all the rest of the evenings of -his young life? His appearance and manner had at first imported to any -one whom he came across--and he truly did come across them in his wide -and loose march out of Oxford city--that he might be sought for in a -few hours' time, and only the inferior portion found. His mother -worried him, so did his father, so did all humanity, save one--who -worried him more than any, or all of it put together. The trees and -the road, and the singing of the birds, and the gladness of the green -world worried him. Luckily for himself he had bought a good box of -German tinder, and from ash to ash his spirit glowed slowly into a -more philosophic state. Gradually the beauty of the trees and hedges -and the sloping fields began to steal around him; the warbled pleasure -of the little birds made overture to his sympathy, and the lustrous -calm of shadowed waters spread its picture through his mind. - -His body also responded to the influences of the time of day, and the -love of nature freshened into the natural love of cupboard. Hunger -awoke in his system somewhere, and spread sweet pictures in a tasteful -part. For a "moment of supreme agony" he wrestled with the coarse -material instinct, then turned on his heel, as our novelists say, and -made off for his father's kitchen. - -His poor mother caught him the moment he came in, and pulled off his -hat and his opera-cloak, and frizzled up his curls for him. She seemed -to think that he must have been for a journey of at least a hundred -leagues; that the fault of his going was hers, and the virtue of his -ever coming back was all his own. Then she looked at him slyly, and -with some sadness, and yet a considerable touch of pride, by the light -of a three-wicked cocoa-candle; and feeling quite sure that she had -him to herself, trembled at the boldness of the shot she made: - -"Oh, Kit, why have you never told me? I have found it all out. You -have fallen in love!" - -Christopher Fermitage Sharp, Esquire--as he always entitled himself, -upon the collar of spaniel or terrier--had nothing to say for a -moment, but softly withdrew, to have his blush in shadow. Of all the -world, best he loved his mother--before, or after, somebody else--and -his simple, unpractised, and uncored heart, was shy of the job it was -carrying on. Therefore he turned from his mother's face, and her eager -eyes, and expectant arms. - -"Come and tell me, my darling," she whispered, trying to get a good -look at his reluctant eyes, and wholly oblivious of her promise to his -father. "I will not be angry at all, Kit, although you never should -have left me to find it out in this way." - -"There is nothing to find out," he answered, making a turn towards the -kitchen stairs. "I just want my supper, if there is anything to eat." - -"To eat, Kit! And I thought so much better of you. After all, I must -have been quite wrong. What a shame to invent such stories!" - -"You must have invented them, yourself, dear mother," said Kit with -recovered bravery. "Let me hear it all out when I have had my supper." - -"I will go down this moment, and see what there is," replied his good -mother eagerly. "Is there anything, now, that can coax your appetite?" - -"Yes, mother, oysters will be over to-morrow. I should like two dozen -fried with butter, and a pound and a quarter of rump-steak, cut thick, -and not overdone." - -"You shall have them, my darling, in twenty minutes. Now, be sure that -you put your fur slippers on; I saw quite a fog coming over Port -Meadow, as much as half an hour ago. This is the worst time of year to -take cold. 'A May cold is a thirty-day cold.' What a stupe I must be," -she continued to herself, "to imagine that the boy could be in love! I -will take care to say not another word, or I might break my promise to -his father. What a pity! He has a noble moustache coming, and only his -mother to admire it!" - -In spite of all disappointment, this good mother paid the warmest heed -to the ordering, ay, and the cooking, of the supper of her only child. -A juicier steak never sat on a gridiron; fatter oysters never frizzled -with the pure bubble of goodness. Kit sat up, and made short work of -all that came before him. - -"Now, mother, what is it you want to say?" His tone was not defiant, -but nicely self-possessed, and softly rich with triumph of digestion. -And a silver tankard of Morel's ale helped him to express himself. - -"My dear boy, I have nothing to say, except that you have lifted a -great weight off my mind, a very great weight beyond description, by -leaving behind you not even a trace of the existence of that fine -rump-steak." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -MAY MORN. - - -It was the morn when the tall and shapely tower of Magdalen is crowned -with a fillet of shining white, awaiting the first step of sunrise. -Once a year, for generations, this has been the sign of it--eager -eyes, and gaping mouths, little knuckles blue with cold, and clumsy -little feet inclined to slide upon the slippery lead. All are bound to -keep together for the radiant moment; all are a little elated at their -height above all other boys; all have a strong idea that the sun, when -he comes, will be full of them; and every one of them longs to be back -beneath his mother's blankets. - -It is a tradition with this choir (handed, or chanted, down from very -ancient choral ancestry) that the sun never rises on May-day without -iced dew to glance upon. Scientific record here comes in to prop -tradition. The icy saints may be going by, but they leave their breath -behind them. And the poets, who have sent forth their maids to "gather -the dews of May," knew, and meant, that dew must freeze to stand that -operation. - -But though the sky was bright, and the dew lay sparkling for the -maidens, the frost on this particular morning was not so keen as -usual. The trees that took the early light (more chaste without the -yellow ray) glistened rather with soft moisture than with stiff -encrustment; and sprays, that kept their sally into fickle air half -latent, showing only little scolloped crinkles with a knob in them, -held in every downy quillet liquid, rather than solid, gem. - -Christopher Sharp, looking none the worse for his excellent supper of -last night, laid his fattish elbow on the parapet of the bridge, and -mused. Poetical feeling had fetched him out, thus early in the -morning, to hear the choir salute the sun, and to be moved with -sympathy. The moon is the proper deity of all true lovers, and has -them under good command when she pleases. But for half the weeks of a -month, she declines to sit in the court of lunacy; at least, as -regards this earth, having her own men and women to attend to. This -young man knew that she could not be found, with a view to meditation, -now; and his mind relapsed to the sun--a coarse power, poetical only -when he sets and rises. - -With strength and command of the work of men, and leaving their dreams -to his sister, the sun leaped up, with a shake of his brow and a -scattering of the dew-clouds. The gates of the east swung right and -left; so that tall trees on a hill seemed less than reeds in the rush -of glory; and lines (like the spread of a crystal fan) trembled along -the lowland. Inlets now, and lanes of vision (scarcely opened -yesterday, and closed perhaps to-morrow) guided shafts of light along -the level widening ways they love. Tree and tower, hill and wall, and -water and broad meadow, stood, or lay, or leaned (according to the -stamp set on them), one and all receiving, sharing, and rejoicing in -the day. - -Between the battlements, and above them, burst and rose the choral -hymn; and as the laws of sound compelled it to go upward mainly, the -part that came down was pleasing. Christopher, seeing but little of -the boys, and not hearing very much, was almost enabled to regard the -whole as a vocal effort of the angels: and thus in solemn thought he -wandered as far as the high-tolled turnpike gate. - -"I will hie me to Cowley," said he to himself, instead of turning back -again; "there will I probe the hidden import of impending destiny. -This long and dark suspense is more than can be brooked by human -power. I know a jolly gipsy-woman; and if I went home I should have to -wait three hours for my breakfast." - -With these words he felt in the pockets of his coat, to be sure that -oracular cash was there, and found a silk purse with more money than -usual, stored for the purchase of a dog called "Pablo," a hero among -badgers. - -"What is Pablo to me, or I to Pablo?" he muttered with a smothered -sigh. "She told me she thought it a cruel and cowardly thing to kill -fifty rats in five minutes. Never more--alas, never more!" With a -resolute step, but a clouded brow, he buttoned his coat, and strode -onward. - -Now, if he had been in a fit state of mind for looking about him, he -might have found a thousand things worth looking at. But none of them, -in his present hurry, won from him either glimpse or thought. He -trudged along the broad London road at a good brisk rate, while the -sun glanced over the highlands, and the dewy ridges, away on the left -towards Shotover. The noble city behind him, stretched its rising -sweep of tower, and spire, and dome, and serried battlement, stately -among ancient trees, and rich with more than mere external glory to an -Englishman. And away to the right hand sloped broad meadows, green -with spring, and fluttered with the pearly hyaline of dew, lifting -pillars of dark willow in the distance, where the Isis ran. - -But what are these things to a lover, unless they hit the moment's -mood? The fair, unfenced, free-landscaped road for him might just as -well have been wattled, like a skittle-alley, and roofed with -Croggon's patent felt. At certain--or rather uncertain--moments, he -might have rejoiced in the wide glad heart of nature spread to welcome -him; and must have felt, as lovers feel, the ravishment of beauty. It -happened, however, that his eyes were open to nothing above, or -around, or before him, unless it should present itself in the image of -a gipsy's tent. - -He turned to the left, before the road entered the new enclosures -towards Iffley, and trod his own track towards Cowley Marsh. The crisp -dew, brushed by his hasty feet, ran into large globes behind him; and -jerks of dust, brought up by pressure, fell and curdled on them. In -the haze of the morning, he looked much larger than he had any right -to seem, and the shadow of his arms and hat stretched into hollow -places. There was no other moving figure to be seen, except from time -to time, of a creature, the colonist of commons, whose mental frame -was not so unlike his own just now, as bodily form and style of -walking might in misty grandeur seem. Though Kit was not such a stupid -fellow, when free from his present bewitchment. - -Scant of patience he came to a place where the elbow of a hedge jutted -forth upon the common. A mighty hedge of beetling brows, and -over-hanging shagginess, and shelfy curves, and brambly depths, and -true Devonian amplitude. High farming would have swept it down, and -out of its long course ploughed an acre. Young Sharp had not traced -its windings far, before he came upon a tidy-looking tent, pitched, -with the judgment of experience, in a snug and sheltered spot. The -rest of the camp might be seen in the distance, glistening in the -sunrise. This tent seemed to have crept away, for the sake of peace -and privacy. - -Christopher quickened his steps, expecting to be met by a host of -children, rushing forth with outstretched hands, and shaggy hair, and -wild black eyes. But there was not so much as a child to be seen, nor -the curling smoke of a hedge-trough fire, nor even the scattered ash -betokening cookery of the night before. The canvas of the tent was -down; no head peeped forth, no naked leg or grimy foot protruded, to -show that the inner world was sleeping; even the dog, so rarely -absent, seemed to be really absent now. - -The young man knew that the tent was not very likely to be unoccupied; -but naturally he did not like to peep into it uninvited; and he turned -away to visit the chief community of rovers, when the sound of a low -soft moan recalled him. Still for a moment he hesitated, until he -heard the like sound again, low, and clear, and musical from the -deepest chords of sorrow. Kit felt sure that it must be a woman, in -storms of trouble helpless; and full as he was of his own affairs he -was impelled to interfere. So he lifted back the canvas drawn across -the opening, and looked in. - -There lay a woman on the sandy ground, with her back turned towards -the light, her neck and shoulders a little raised by the short support -of one elbow, and her head, and all that therein was, fixed in a -rigour of gazing. Although her face was not to be seen, and the -hopeless moan of her wail had ceased, Kit Sharp knew that he was in -the presence of a grand and long-abiding woe. - -He drew back, and he tried to make out what it was, and he sighed for -concert--even as a young dog whimpers to a mother who has lost her -pups--and, little as he knew of women, from his own mother, or whether -or no, he judged that this woman had lost a child. That it was her -only one, was more than he could tell or guess. The woman, disturbed -by the change of light, turned round and steadily gazed at him, or -rather at the opening which he filled; for her eyes had no perception -of him. Kit was so scared that he jerked his head back, and nearly -knocked his hat off. He never had seen such a thing before; and, if he -had his choice he never would see such a thing again. The great dark, -hollow eyes had lost similitude of human eyes: hope and fear and -thought were gone; nothing remained but desolation and bare, reckless -misery. - -Christopher's gaze fell under hers. It would be a sheer impertinence -to lay his small troubles before such woe. - -"What is it? Oh! what is it?" asked the woman, at last having some -idea that somebody was near her. - -"I am very sorry; I assure you, ma'am, that I never felt more sorry in -all my life," said Kit, who was a very kind-hearted fellow, and had -now espied a small boy lying dead. "I give you my word of honour, -ma'am, that if I could have guessed it, I would never have looked in." - -Without any answer, the gipsy-woman turned again to her dead child, -and took two little hands in hers, and rubbed them, and sat up, -imagining that she felt some sign of life. She drew the little body to -her breast, and laid the face to hers, and breathed into pale open -lips (scarcely fallen into death), and lifted little eyelids with her -tongue, and would not be convinced that no light came from under them; -and then she rubbed again at every place where any warmth or polish of -the skin yet lingered. She fancied that she felt the little fellow -coming back to her, and she kept the whole of her own body moving to -encourage him. - -There was nothing to encourage. He had breathed his latest breath. His -mother might go on with kisses, friction, and caresses, with every -power she possessed of muscle, and lungs, and brain, and heart. There -he lay, as dead as a stone--one stone more on the earth; and the whole -earth could not bring him back again. - -Cinnaminta bowed her head. She laid the little bit of all she ever -loved upon her lap, and fetched the small arms so that she could hold -them both together, and spread the careless face upon the breast where -once it had felt its way; and then she looked up in search of Kit, or -any one to say something to. - -"It is a just thing. I have earned it. I have robbed an old man of his -only child; and I am robbed of mine." - -These words she spoke not in her own language, but in plain good -English; and then she lay down in her quiet scoop of sand, and folded -her little boy in with her. Christopher saw that there was nothing to -be done. He cared to go no further in search of fortune-tellers; and, -being too young to dare to offer worthless consolation, he wisely -resolved to go home and have fried bacon; wherein he succeeded. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -MAY-DAY. - - -Ere yet it was noon of that same day, to the great delight of Mrs. -Sharp, a strong desire to fish arose in the candid bosom of -Christopher. - -"Mother," he said, "I shall have a bit of early grub, and take my rod, -and try whether I can't manage to bring you a few perch home for -supper. Or, if the perch are not taking yet, I may have a chance of a -trout or two." - -"Oh, that will be delightful, Kit! We can dine whenever we please, you -know, as your dear father is from home. We will have the cold lamb at -one o'clock. I can easily make my dinner then; and then, Kit, if you -are very good, what do you think I will try to do? Such a treat as you -hardly ever had!" - -"What, mother?--what? I must be off to get my tackle ready." - -"My dear, I will send to Mr. Squeaker Smith, and order a nice light -vehicle, with a very steady pony. And, Kit, I will put on my very -worst cloak, and a bonnet not worth six-pence, and stout india-rubber -overshoes. And so you shall drive me wherever you please; and I will -see you catch all the fish. And you will enjoy every fish twice as -much, because your dear mother is looking at you. I will bring some -sandwiches, my pet, and your father's flask of sherry; and we can stay -out till it is quite dark. Why, Kit, you don't look pleased about it!" - -"Mother, how can I be pleased to hear you speak of such things, at -this time of year? The spring is scarcely beginning yet, and the edges -of the water are all swampy. You would be up to your knees, in no -time, in the most horrible yellow slime. I should be most delighted to -have your company, my dearest mother; but it will not do." - -"Very well, Kit; you know best. But, at least, I can have the ride -with you, and wait somewhere while you go fishing?" - -"If I were going anywhere else, perhaps we might have contrived it so. -But while the wind stays in its present quarter, it is worse than -useless to think of fishing, except in the most outlandish places. -There would not be even a public-house, if you could stop at such a -place, within miles of the water I am going to. And the roads are -beyond conception. No wheels can get along them, except in the very -height of summer, or a dry black-frost. My dear mother, I am truly -grieved to lose your company; but I must ride the old cob Sam, and tie -him to a tree or gate; and over and over again you have told me how -long you have been waiting for the chance of a good long afternoon to -do a little shopping. And the London fashions, for the summer season, -arrived by the coach only yesterday." - -"Did they, indeed? Are you sure of that? Well, Kit, I would rather -have come with you than seen the whole world of fashions, although you -can judge, and a lady cannot. But I do not care about that, my dear, -if only you enjoy yourself. Ring the bell, my darling, and I will see -about your dinner." - -Kit's heart burned within him sadly, and his cheeks kept it well in -countenance, as the shocking fraud thus practised by him upon his -good, unselfish mother. However, there was no help for it; and, after -all, mothers must be made to be cheated; or why do they love it so? - -Thus well-balanced with his conscience, Kit put all his smartest -clothes on, as soon as the early dinner was done, and he felt quite -sure in his own mind that his mother was safely embarked upon her -grand expedition of shopping. He saw her as clean as possible off the -premises and round the utmost corner of the lane; and then he waited -for a minute and a half, to be sure that she had not forgotten her -purse, or something else most essential. At last, he became sure as -sure could be, that his admirable mother must now be sitting on a high -chair in a fashionable shop; and with that he ran up to his own room, -and kicked off his every-day breeches, and with great caution and vast -study drew a brand-new pair of noble pantaloons, with a military -stripe, up his well-nourished and established legs. He gazed at the -result, and found that on the whole it was not bad; and then he put on -his best velvet waistcoat, of a chaste sprig-pattern, not too gaudy. A -waterfall tie with a turquoise pin, and a cutaway coat of a soft -bottle-green, completed him for the eyes of the public, and--for which -he cared far more--certain especially private eyes. - -Christopher, feeling himself thus attired, and receiving the silent -approval of his glass, stole downstairs in a very clever way, and took -from his own private cupboard a whip of white pellucid whalebone, -silver-mounted, and set with a large and radiant Cairngorm pebble. His -mother had given him this on his very last birth-day, and he had never -used it, wisely fearing to be laughed at. But now he tucked it under -his arm, and swaggering as he had seen hussars do, turned into a -passage leading to his private outlet. - -Hugging himself upon all his skill, and feeling assured of grand -success, Kit allowed his heels to clank, and carried his head with an -arrogant twist. And so, near a window, where good light came in large -quantity from the garden, he marched into his mother's arms. - -"Kit!" cried his mother; and he said, "Yes," being unable to deny that -truth. His mother looked at him, and his jaunty whip, and particularly -lively suit of clothes; and she knew that he had been telling lies to -her by the hundred or the bushel; and she would have been very glad to -scorn him, if she could have helped being proud of him. Kit was unable -to carry on any more in the way of falsehood. He tried to look fierce, -but his mother laughed; and he saw that he must knock under. - -"My dear boy," she said, for the moment daring to follow up her -triumph, "is this the costume in which you go forth to fish in the -most outlandish places, with the yellow ooze above your knees? And is -that your fishing-rod? Oh, Kit!--come, Kit, now you are caught at -last!" - -"My dear mother, I have told you stories; but I will leave off at -last. Now there is not one instant to explain. I have not so much as a -moment to spare. If you only could guess how important it is, you -would draw in your cloak in a moment. You never shall know another -single word, unless you have the manners, mother, to pull in your -cloak and let me go by." - -"Kit, you may go. When you look at me like that, you may as well do -anything. You have gone by your mother for ever so long; or at any -rate gone away from her." - -With these words, Mrs. Sharp made way for her son to pass her; and -Kit, in a reckless manner, was going to take advantage of it; then he -turned back his face, to say goodbye, and his mother's eyes were away -from him. She could not look at him, because she knew that her look -would pain him; but she held out her hand; and he took it and kissed -it; and then he made off as hard as he could go. - -Mrs. Sharp turned back, and showed some hankering to run after him; -and then she remembered what a laugh would arise in Cross Duck Lane to -see such sport; and so she sighed a heavy sigh--knowing how long she -must have to wait--and retired to her own thoughtful corner, with no -heart left for shopping. - -But Kit saw that now it was "neck or nothing;" with best foot foremost -he made his way through back lanes leading towards the conscientious -obscurity of Worcester College--for Beaumont Street still abode in the -future--and skirting the coasts of Jericho, dangerously hospitable, he -emerged at last in broad St. Giles', without a stone to prate of his -whereabouts. Here he went into livery stables, where he was well -known, and found the cob Sam at his service; for no university man -would ride him (even upon Hobson's choice) because of his ignominious -aspect. But Kit knew his value, and his lasting powers, and sagacious -gratitude; and whenever he wanted a horse trustworthy in patience, -obedience, and wit, he always took brown Sam. To Sam it was a treat to -carry Kit, because of the victuals ordered at almost every lenient -stage; and the grand largesse of oats and beans was more than he could -get for a week in stable. And so he set forth, with a spirited neigh, -on the Kidlington road, to cross the Cherwell, and make his way -towards Weston. The heart of Christopher burned within him whenever he -thought of his mother; but a man is a man for all that, and cannot be -tied to apron-strings. So Kit shook his whip, and the Cairngorm -flashed in the sun, and the spirit of youth did the same. He was -certain to see the sweet maid to-day, knowing her manners and customs, -and when she was ordered forth for her mossy walk upon the margin of -the wood. - -The soft sun hung in the light of the wood, as if he were guided by -the breeze and air; and gentle warmth flowed through the alleys, where -the nesting pheasant ran. Little fluttering, timid things, that meant -to be leaves, please God, some day, but had been baffled and beaten -about so, that their faith was shrunk to hope; little rifts of cover -also keeping beauty coiled inside, and ready to open, like a bivalve -shell, to the pulse of the summer-tide, and then to be sweet blossom; -and the ground below them pressing upward with ambition of young -green; and the sky above them spread with liquid blue behind white -pillows. - -But these things are not well to be seen without just entering into -the wood; and in doing so there can be no harm, with the light so -inviting, and the way so clear. Grace had a little idea that perhaps -she had better stop outside the wood, but still that walk was within -her bounds, and her orders were to take exercise; and she saw some -very pretty flowers there; and if they would not come to her, she had -nothing to do but to go to them. Still she ought to have known that -now things had changed from what they were as little as a week ago; -that a dotted veil of innumerable buds would hang between her and the -good Miss Patch, while many forward trees were casting quite a shade -of mystery. Nevertheless, she had no fear. If anybody did come near -her, it would only be somebody thoroughly afraid of her. For now she -knew, and was proud to know, that Kit was the prey of her bow and -spear. - -Whether she cared for him, or not, was a wholly different question. -But in her dismal dullness and long, wearisome seclusion, the finest -possible chance was offered for any young gentleman to meet her, and -make acquaintance of nature's doing. At first she had kept this to -herself, in dread of conceit and vanity; but when it outgrew accident, -she told "Aunt Patch" the whole affair, and asked what she was to do -about it. Thereupon she was told to avoid the snares of childish -vanity, to look at the back of her looking-glass, and never dare to -dream again that any one could be drawn by her. - -Her young mind had been eased by this, although with a good deal of -pain about it; and it made her more venturesome to discover whether -the whole of that superior estimate of herself was true. Whether she -was so entirely vain or stupid, whenever she looked at herself; and -whether it was so utterly and bitterly impossible that anybody should -come--as he said--miles and miles for the simple pleasure of looking, -for one or two minutes, at herself. - -Grace was quite certain that she had no desire to meet anybody, when -she went into the wood. She hoped to be spared any trial of that sort. -She had been told on the highest authority, that nobody could come -looking after her--the assertion was less flattering perhaps than -reassuring; and, to test its truth, she went a little further than she -meant to go. - -Suddenly at a corner, where the whole of the ground fell downward, and -grass was overhanging grass so early in the season, and sapling shoots -from the self-same stool stood a yard above each other, and down in -the hollow a little brook sang of its stony troubles to the whispering -reeds--here Grace Oglander happened to meet a very fine young man -indeed. The astonishment of these two might be seen, at a moment's -glance, to be mutual. The maiden, by gift of nature, was the first to -express it, with dress, and hand, and eye. She showed a warm eagerness -to retire; yet waited half a moment for the sake of proper dignity. - -Kit looked at her with a clear intuition that now was his chance of -chances to make certain-sure of her. If he could only now be strong, -and take her consent for granted, and so induce her to set seal to it, -she never would withdraw; and the two might settle the rest at their -leisure. - -He loved the young lady with all his heart; and beyond that he knew -nothing of her, except that she was worthy. But she had not given her -heart as yet; and, with natural female common sense, she would like to -know a great deal more about him before she said too much to him. Also -in her mind--if not in her heart--there was a clearer likeness of a -very different man--a man who was a man in earnest, and walked with a -stronger and firmer step, and lurked behind no corners. - -"This path is so extremely narrow," Miss Oglander said, with a very -pretty blush, "and the ground is so steep, that I fear I must put you -to some little inconvenience. But if I hold carefully by this branch, -perhaps there will be room for you to pass." - -"You are most kind and considerate," he answered, as if he were in -peril of a precipice; "but I would not for the world give you such -trouble. And I don't want to go any further now. It cannot matter in -the least, I do assure you." - -"But surely you must have been going somewhere. You are most polite. -But I cannot think for one moment of turning you back like this." - -"Then, may I sit down? I feel a little tired; and the weather has -suddenly become so warm. Don't you think it is very trying?" - -"To people who are not very strong perhaps it is. But surely it ought -not to be so to you." - -"Well, I must not put all the blame upon the weather. There are so -many other things much worse. If I could only tell you." - -"Oh, I am so very sorry, Mr. Sharp. I had no idea you had such -troubles. It must be so sad for you, while you are so young." - -"Yes, I suppose many people call me young. And perhaps to the outward -eye I am so. But no one except myself can dream of the anxieties that -prey upon me." - -Christopher, by this time, was growing very crafty, as the above -speech of his will show. The paternal gift was awaking within him, but -softened by maternal goodness; so that it was not likely to be used -with much severity. And now, at the end of his speech, he sighed, and -without any thought laid his right hand on the rich heart of his -velvet waistcoat, where beautiful forget-me-nots were blooming out of -willow leaves. Then Grace could not help thinking how that -trouble-worn right hand had been uplifted in her cause, and had -descended on the rabbit-man. And although she was most anxious to -discourage the present vein of thought, she could not suppress one -little sigh--sweeter music to the ear of Kit than ever had been played -or dreamed. - -"Now, would you really like to know?--you are so wonderfully good," he -continued, with his eyes cast down, and every possible appearance of -excessive misery; "would you, I mean, do your best, not only not to be -offended, but to pity and forgive me, if, or rather supposing that, I -were to endeavour to explain, what--what it is, who--who she is--no, -no, I do not quite mean that. I scarcely know how to express myself. -Things are too many for me." - -"Oh, but you must not allow them to be so, Mr. Sharp; indeed, you -mustn't. I am sure that you must have a very good mother, from what -you told me the other day; and if you have done any harm, though I -scarcely can think such a thing of you, the best and most -straightforward course is to go and tell your mother everything; and -then it is so nice afterwards." - -"Yes, to be sure. How wise you are! You seem to know almost -everything. I never saw any one like you at all. But the fact is that -I am a little too old; I am obliged now to steer my own course in -life. My mother is as good as gold, and much better; but she never -could understand my feelings." - -"Then come in, and tell my dear old Aunt Patch. She is so virtuous, -and she always never doubts about anything; she sees the right thing -to be done in a moment, and she never listens to arguments. If you -will only come in and see her, it might be such a relief to you." - -"You seem to mistake me altogether," cried the young man, with his -patience gone. "What good could any old aunts do to me? Surely you -know who it is that I want!" - -"How can I imagine that?" - -"Why, you, only you, only you, sweet Grace! I should like to see the -whole earth swallowed up, if only you and I were left together!" - -Grace Oglander blushed at the power of his words, and the pressure of -his hand on hers. Then, having plenty of her father's spirit, she -fixed her bright sensible eyes on his face, so that he saw that he had -better stop. "I am afraid that it is no good," he said. - -"I am very much obliged to you," answered Grace, with her fair cheeks -full of colour, and her hands drawn carefully back to her sides; "but -will you be kind enough to stand up, and let me speak for a moment. I -believe that you are very good, and I may say very harmless, and you -have helped me in the very kindest way, and I never shall forget your -goodness. Ever since you came, I am sure, I have been glad to think of -you; and your dogs, and your gun, and your fishing-rod reminded me of -my father; and I am very, very sorry, that what you have just said -will prevent me from thinking any more about you, or coming anywhere, -into any kind of places, where there are trees like this, again. I -ought to have done it--at least, I mean, I never ought to have done it -at all; but I did think that you were so nice; and now you have -undeceived me. I know who your father is very well, although I have -seldom seen him; and though I dislike the law, I declare that would -not have mattered very much to me. But you do not even know my name, -as several times you have proved to me; and how you can ride thirty -miles from Oxford, in all sorts of weather, without being tired, and -your dogs so fresh, has always been a puzzle to me." - -"Thirty miles from Oxford!" Christopher Sharp cried, in great -amazement; for in the very lowest condition of the heart figures will -maintain themselves. - -"Yes; thirty miles, or thirty leagues. Sometimes I hear one thing, and -sometimes the other." - -"Where you are standing now is about seven miles and three-quarters -from Summer-town gate!" - -"Surely, Mr. Sharp, you are laughing at me! How far am I from Beckley, -then, according to your calculation?" - -"How did you ever hear of Beckley? It is quite a little village. A -miserable little place!" - -"Indeed, then, it is not. It is the very finest place in all the -world; or at any rate the nicest, and the dearest, and the prettiest!" - -"But how can you, just come from America, have such an opinion of such -a little hole?" - -"A little hole! Why, it stands on a hill! You never can have been near -it, if you think of calling it a 'hole!' And as for my coming from -America, you seem to have no geography. I have never been further away -from darling Beckley, to my knowledge, than I am now." - -Kit Sharp looked at her with greater amazement than that with which -she looked at him. And then with one accord they spied a fat man -coming along the hollow, and trying not to glance at them. With keen -young instinct they knew that this villain was purely intent upon -watching them. - -"Come again, if you please, to-morrow," said Grace, while pretending -to gaze at the clouds; "you have told me such things that I never -shall sleep. Come earlier, and wait for me. Not that you must think -anything; only that now you are bound, as a gentleman, to go on with -what you were telling me." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -THE DIGNITY OF THE FAMILY. - - -If Grace had only stayed five minutes longer in the place where she -was when the fat man came in sight, her eyes and heart would have been -delighted by the appearance of a true old friend. But she felt so much -terror of that stout person, who always seemed to be watching her -afar, that in spite of the extraordinary interest aroused by some of -her companion's words, as well as by his manner, she could not help -running away abruptly, and taking shelter in the little bowered -cottage. - -Meanwhile, the stout man in the white frock coat slouched along the -furzy valley, with a clownish step. He carried a long pig-whip, and -now and then indulged in a crack or flick at some imaginary pig, while -a crafty grin, or a wink of one little eye, enlivened his heavy -countenance. He was clearly aware of all that had been happening in -the wood above him, for the buds as yet rather served to guide the -lines of sight than to baffle them; but he showed no desire to -interfere, for instead of taking the cross-path, which would have -brought him face to face with Kit, he kept down the glade towards the -timber-track, which led in another direction. By the side of the -little brook he turned the corner of a thick holly-bush, and suddenly -met his brother, Master Zacchary Cripps, the Carrier. - -The Carrier was in no pleasant mood; his eyes were stern and -steadfast, and the colour of his healthy cheeks was deepened into -crimson. He bore with a bent arm and set muscle the sceptral whip of -the family, bound with spiral brass, and newly fitted with a heavy -lash. Moreover, he had come with his Sunday hat on, and his air and -walk were menacing. Leviticus started and turned pale, and his cunning -eyes glanced for a chance of escape. - -"Thou goest not hence, Brother Tickuss," said Cripps, "until thou hast -answered what I shall ax, and answered with thine eyes on mine." - -"Ax away," said the pigman, sprawling out his fat legs, as if he did -not care; "ax away, so long as it be of thy own consarns." - -"It is of my own consarns to keep my father's sons from being rogues -and liars, and getting into Oxford jail, and into the hands of the -hangman." - -Leviticus trembled, with fear more than anger. "Thou always was -foul-mouthed," he muttered. - -"It is a lie!" shouted Zacchary; "as big a lie as ever thou spak'st! I -always were that clean of tongue--no odds for that now. Wilt answer -me, or will not? Thou liedst to me in Oxford streets the last time as -I spake to thee." - -"Well, well, maybe a small piece I did; but nothing to lay hold on -much. Brother Zak, thou must not be so hard. What man can be always -arkerate?" - -"A man can spake the truth if he goeth to try, or else a must be a -fule. And, Tickuss, thou wast always more rogue than fule. And now -here am I, to ax thee spashal what roguery thou beest up to now? Whom -hast thou got at the cottage in the wood?" - -"Thou'd best way go up there, and see for thyzell. A old lady from -Amerikay as wanteth to retaire frout the world. Won't her zend thee -a-running down the hill? Ah, and I'd like to see thee, Zak. Her'd lay -thy own whip about thee; and her tongue be worse nor a dozen whips!" - -Really, while Tickuss was telling this lie, he managed to look at his -brother so firmly, in the rally of impudence brought to bay, that Zak -for the moment (in spite of all experience) believed him. And the -Carrier dreaded--as the lord of swine knew well--nothing so much as a -fierce woman's tongue. - -"What be the reason, then," he went on, still keeping his eyes on the -face of Tickuss, "that thou hast been keeping thyself and thy pigs out -o' market, and even thy waife and children to home, same as if 'em had -gotten the plague? And what be the reason, Leviticus Cripps, that thou -fearest to go to a wholesome public-house, and have thy pint of ale, -and see thy neighbours, as behooveth a God-fearing man? To my mind, -either thou art gone daft, and the woman should take the lead o' thee, -or else thou art screwed out of honest ways." - -The Carrier now looked at his brother, with more of pity than -suspicion. Tickuss had always been regarded as the weak member of the -family, because he laid on more fat than muscle, even in the time of -most active growth. And to keep him regularly straight was more than -all the set efforts of the brotherhood could, even when he was young, -effect. Therefore Zak stood back some little, and the butt of his whip -fell down to earth. Leviticus saw his chance, and seized it. - -"Consarning of goin' to public-house, I would never be too particular. -A man may do it, or a man may not, according to manner of his things -at home, or his own little brew, or the temper of his wife. I would -not blame him, nor yet praise him, for things as he knoweth best -about. To make light of a man for not going to public, is the same as -to blame him for stopping from church. A man as careth for good -opinion goeth to both, but a cannot always do it. And I ain't a been -in church now for more nor a week of Sundays." - -The force of this reasoning came home to Cripps. If a man was unable -to go to church, there was good room for arguing that his duty towards -the public-house must not be too rigidly exacted. Zacchary therefore -fetched a sigh. None of the race had broken up at so early an age as -that of Tickuss. But still, from his own sad experience, the Carrier -knew what pigs were; and he thought that his brother, though younger -than himself, might be called away before him. - -"Tickuss," he said, "I may a' been too hard. Nobody knows but them -that has to do it what the worrit of the roads is. I may a' said a -word here and there too much, and a bit outside the Gospel. According -to they a man must believe a liar, and forgive un, and forgive un over -and over again, the same as I tries to forgive you, Tickuss." - -Zacchary offered his hand to his brother, but Leviticus was ashamed to -take it. With the load now weighing upon his mind, and the sense in -his heart of what Zacchary was, Tickuss--whatever his roguery -was--could not make believe to have none of it. So he turned away, -with his feelings hurt too much for the clasp fraternal. - -"When a man hath no more respect for hiszell," he muttered over his -puckered shoulder, "and no more respect for his father and mother -avore un, than to call his very next brother but one a rogue and a -liar, and a schemer against publics, to my mind he have gone too far, -and not shown the manners relied upon." - -"Very well," replied Cripps; "just as you like, Tickuss; though I -never did hear as I were short of manners; and there's twelve mailes -of road as knows better than that. Now, since you go on like that, and -there seemeth no chance of supper 'long of 'ee, I shall just walk up -to cottage, and ax any orders for the Carrier. Good evening, brother -Tickuss." - -With these words Zak set off, and Tickuss repented sadly of the evil -temper which had forbidden him to shake hands. But now to oppose the -Carrier's purpose would be a little too suspicious. He must go his way -and take his chance; he was worse than a pig when his mind was made -up. - -"Go thy way, and be danged to thee!" thought Leviticus, looking after -him. "Little thou wilt take, however, but to knock thy thick head -again' a wall. Old lady looketh out too sharp for any of they danged -old Beckley carcases. Come thee down to our ouze," he shouted in irony -after his brother, "and tell us the noos thou hast picked up, and what -'em be doing in Amerikay! A vine time o' life for thee to turn spy!" - -It was lucky for him that he made off briskly among thick brushwood -and tangled swamps, for Zacchary Cripps at the last word turned round, -with his face of a fine plum-colour, and a stamp of rage which made -his stiff knees tingle worse than a dozen turnpikes. - -"Spy, didst thou say?" he shouted, staring, with his honest, wrathful -eyes, through every glimpse of thicket near the spot where his brother -had disappeared--"Spy! if thou beest a man come out, and say it again -to the face of me! I'll show thee how to spell 'spy' pretty quick. -Leviticus Cripps, thou art a coward, to the back of a thief and a -sneaking skulk, unless thou comest out of they thick places, to stand -to the word thou hast spoken." - -Zacchary stood in a wide bay of copse, and he knew that his voice went -through the wood; for he spoke with the whole power of his lungs; and -the tender leaves above him quivered like a little breath of fringe, -and the birds flew out of their ivy castles, and a piece of bare-faced -rock in the distance answered him--but nothing else. - -"Thou art a bigger man than I be," shouted the Carrier, being carried -beyond himself by the state of things; "come out if thou art a man, -and hast any blood of Cripps in thee!" But this appeal received no -answer, except from the quiet rock again, and a peaceful thrush -sitting over his nest, and well accustomed to the woodman's call. - -Zacchary had always felt scorn of Tickuss, but now he almost disdained -himself for springing of one wedlock with him. He stood in the place -where he must be seen if Tickuss wished to see him, until he was quite -sure that no such longing existed on his brother's part. Then the -family seemed to be lowered so by this behaviour of a leading member, -that when the Carrier moved his legs, he had not the spirit to crack -his whip. - -"What shall us do? Whatever shall us do?" he said to himself more -reasonably, with the anger dying out of his kind blue eyes. "A hath -insulted of me, but a hath a big family of little uns to kape up. I -harn't had no knowledge how that zort o' thing may drive a man out of -his proper ways. Like enough it maketh them careful to tell lies, and -shun the thrashing." - -Taking this view of the case, Master Cripps turned away from the path -towards his brother's house, to which, in the flush of first anger, he -meant to go, and there to wait for him; and being rather slow of -resolution, he naturally set forth again on the track of the one last -interrupted. He would go to this cottage in the wood of which he had -heard through one of his washerwomen--though none of them had any -washing thence--and then he would satisfy his own mind concerning an -ugly rumour, which had unsettled that mind since Tuesday. For in his -own hearing it had been said--by a woman, it is true, but still a -woman who came of a truthful family, and was married now into the -like--that Master Leviticus Cripps was harbouring pirates and -conspirators, believed to have come from America, in a little place -out of the way of all honest people, where the deaf old woman was. -Nobody ever had leave to the house; never a butcher, nor baker, nor -tea-grocer, nor a milkman, nor even a respectable washerwoman--there -was nothing except a great dog to rush out and bite without even -barking. - -Zacchary had no easy task to find the little cottage of which he had -heard, for it lay well back from all thoroughfares, and so embedded -among ivied trees, that he passed and re-passed several times before -he descried it; and even then he would not have done so if it had not -chanced that Miss Patch, who loved good things when she could get -them, was about to dine on a juicy roaster, supplied by the wary -Leviticus. Grace herself had prepared the currant sauce, before she -went forth for her daily walk, and deaf old Margery Daw was stooping -over the fierce wood fire on the ground, and basting with a short iron -spoon. The double result was a wreath of blue smoke rising from the -crooked chimney, and a very rich odour streaming forth from door and -window on the vernal air. The eyes and the nose of the Carrier at once -presented him with clear impressions. - -"Amerikayans understands good living." Giving utterance to this -profound and incontrovertible reflection, Cripps came to a halt and -sagely considered the situation. The first thing he asked, as usual, -was--"How would the law of the land lie?" Here was a lonely, -unprotected cottage, inhabited by an elderly foreign lady, who -especially sought retirement. Had he any legal right to insist on -knowing who she was, and all about her? Would he not rather be a -trespasser, and liable to a fine, and perhaps the jail, if he forced -himself in, without invitation and wilfully, against the inhabitants' -wish? And even if that came to nothing--as it might--could he say that -it was a manly and straightforward action on his part? He had no enemy -that he knew of, unless it was Black George, the poacher; but there -were always plenty of people ready to say ill-natured things about a -prosperous neighbour; and like enough they would set it afoot that he -had gone spying on a helpless lady, because she had never employed -him. And then his brother's reproach, which had so fiercely aroused -him, came back to his mind. - -Neither was it wholly absent from his thoughts, that a great dog was -said to reside on these premises, whose manner was the peculiarly -unattractive one of rushing out to bite without a bark. The Carrier -had suffered in his time from dogs, as was natural to his calling; and -although his flesh was so wholesome that the result had never been -serious, he was conscious of a definite desire to defer all increase -of experience in that line. - -"Spy!" he exclaimed, as he sat down rather to rest his stiff knee than -to watch the hut. "That never hath been said of me, and never shall -without a lie. But one on 'em might come out, mayhap, and give me some -zatisfaction." - -Before his words were cool, Miss Patch herself appeared in the -doorway. She saw not Cripps, who had happened to put himself in a -knowing corner; and being in a quietly savage mood (from desire of -pig, and dread that stupid old Margery was murdering pig, by revolving -him too near the fire), she cast such a glance at the young leaves -around her, as seemed enough to nip them in the bud. Then she threw -away something with a scornful sweep, and Cripps believed almost every -word his brother had been saying. - -"I'll be blessed if I don't scuttle off," he said to himself and the -moss he was sitting on. "In my time I have a seen all zorts of womans, -but none to come nigh this sample as be come over from Amerikay! -Sarveth me right for cooriosity. Amend me if ever I come anigh of any -Amerikayans again!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - -A TOMBSTONE. - - -Are there any who do not quicken to the impulse of young life, lifted -free of long repression and the dread of dull relapse? Can we find a -man or woman (holding almost any age) able to come out and meet the -challenge of the sun, conveyed in cartel of white clouds of May, and -yet to stick to private sense of sulky wrongs and brooding hate? - -If we could find such a man or woman (by great waste of labour, in a -search ungracious), and if it should seem worth while to attempt to -cure the case, scarcely anything could be thought of, leading more -directly towards the end in view, than to fetch that person, and plant -him or her, without a word of explanation, among the flower-beds on -the little lawn of Beckley Barton. - -The flowers themselves, and their open eyes, and the sparkling smile -of the grass, and the untold commerce of the freighted bees, and rich -voluntaries of thrush and blackbird (ruffled to the throat with song); -and over the whole the soft flow of sunshine, like a vast pervasive -river of gold, with silver wave of clouds--who could dwell on petty -aches and pains among such grandeur? - -The old Squire sat in his bower-chair with a warm cloak over his -shoulders. His age was threescore and ten this day; and he looked back -through the length of years, and marvelled at their fleeting. The -stirring times of his youth, and the daily perils of his prime of -life, the long hard battle, and the slow promotion--because he had -given offence by some projection of honest opinion--the heavy -disappointment, and the forced retirement from the army when the wars -were over, with only the rank of Major, which he preferred to sink in -Squire--because he ought to have been, according to his own view of -the matter, a good Lieutenant-general--and then a very short golden -age of five years and a quarter, from his wedding-day to the death of -his wife, a single and sweet-hearted wife--and after that (as sorrow -sank into the soothing breast of time) the soft, and gentle, and -undreamed-of step of comfort, coming almost faster than was welcome, -while his little daughter grew. - -After that the old man tried to think no more, but be content. To let -the little scenes of dancing, and of asking, and of listening, and of -looking puzzled, and of waiting to know truly whether all was -earnest--because already childhood had suspicion that there might be -things intended to delude it--and of raising from the level of papa's -well-buttoned pocket, clear bright eyes that did not know a guinea -from a halfpenny; and then, with the very extraordinary spring from -the elasticity of red calves (which happily departs right early), the -jumping into opened arms, and the laying on of little lips, and the -murmurs of delighted love--to let his recollections of all these die -out, and to do without them, was this old man's business now. - -For he had been convinced at last--strange as it may seem, until we -call to mind how the strongest convictions are produced by the weakest -logic--at last he could no longer hope to see his Grace again; because -he had beheld her tombstone. Having made up his mind to go to church -that very Sunday morning, in spite of all Widow Hookham could do to -stop him, he had spied a new stone in the graveyard corner sacred to -the family of Oglander. The old man went up to see what it was, and -nobody liked to follow him. And nobody was surprised that he did not -show his white head at the chancel-door; though the parson waited five -minutes for him, being exceeding loth to waste ten lines, which he had -interlarded into a sermon of thirty years back, for the present sad -occasion. - -For the old Squire sat on his grandfather's tombstone (a tabular piece -of memorial, suited to an hospitable man; where all his descendants -might sit around, and have their dinners served to them), and he -leaned his shaven chin on the head of his stout oak staff, and he took -off his hat, and let his white hair fall about. He fixed his still -bright eyes on the tombstone of his daughter, and tried to fasten his -mind there also, and to make out how old she was. He was angry with -himself for not being able to tell to a day without thinking; but -days, and years, and thoughts, and doings of quiet love quite slipping -by, and spreading without ruffle, had left him little to lay hold of -as a knotted record. Therefore he sat with his chin on his stick, and -had no sense of church-time, until the choir (which comprised seven -Crippses) bellowed out an anthem, which must have shaken their -grandfathers in their graves; unless in their time they had done the -same. - -In this great uproar and applause, which always travelled for half a -mile, the Squire had made his escape from the graveyard; and then he -had gone home without a word and eaten his dinner, because he must -when the due time came for it. And now, being filled with substantial -faith that his household was nicely enjoying itself, he was come to -his bower to think and wonder, and perhaps by-and-by to fall fast -asleep, but never awake to bright hope again. - -To this relief and mild incline of gentle age, his head was bowing and -his white hair settling down, according as the sun, or wind, or -clouds, or time of day desired, when some one darkened half his light, -and there stood Mary Hookham. - -Mary had the newest of all new spring fashions on her head, and -breast, and waist, and everywhere. A truly spirited girl was she, as -well as a very handy one; and she never thought twice of a sixpence or -shilling, if a soiled paper-pattern could be had for it. And now she -was busy with half a guinea, kindly beginning to form its impress on -her moist hard-working palm. - -"He have had a time of it!" she exclaimed, as her master began to gaze -around. "Oh my, what a time of it he have had!" - -"Mary, I suppose you are talking of me. Yes, I have had a bad time on -the whole. But many people have had far worse." - -"Yes, sir. And will you see one who hath? As fine a young gentleman as -ever lived; so ready to speak up for everybody, and walking like a -statute. It give me such a turn! I do believe you never would know -him, sir; without his name come in with him. Squire Overshute, sir, if -you please, requesteth the honour of seeing of you." - -"Mary, I am hardly fit for it. I was doing my best to sit quite quiet, -and to try to think of things. I am not as I was yesterday, or even as -I was this morning. But if I ought to see him--why, I will. And -perhaps I ought, no doubt, when I come to think of things. The poor -young man has been very ill. To be sure, I remember all about it. Show -him where I am at once. What a sad thing for his mother! His mother is -a wonderful clever woman, of the soundest views in politics." - -"His mother be dead, sir; I had better tell you for fear of begetting -any trifles with him; although we was told to keep such things from -you. Howsomever, I do think he be coming to himself, or he would not -have fallen out of patience as a hath done; and now here he be, sir!" - -Russel Overshute, narrowed and flattened into half of his proper size, -and heightened thereby to unnatural stature--for stoop he would not, -although so weak--here he was walking along the damp walk, when a bed, -or a sofa, or a drawn-out chair at Shotover Grange, was his proper -place. He walked with the help of a crutch-handled stick, and his deep -mourning dress made him look almost ghastly. His eyes, however, were -bright and steady, and he made an attempt at a cheerful smile, as he -congratulated the Squire on the great improvement of his health. - -"For that I have to thank you, my dear friend," answered Mr. Oglander; -"for weeks I had been helpless, till I helped myself; I mean, of -course, by the great blessing of the Lord. But of your sad troubles, -whatever shall I say----" - -"My dear sir, say nothing, if you please--I cannot bear as yet to -speak of them. I ought to be thankful that life is spared to -me--doubtless for some good purpose. And I think I know what that -purpose is; though now I am confident of nothing." - -"Neither am I, Russel, neither am I," said the old man, observing how -low his voice was, and speaking in a low sad voice himself. "I used to -have confidence in the good will and watchful care of the Almighty -over all who trust in Him. But now there is something over there"--he -pointed towards the churchyard--"which shows that we may carry such -ideas to a foolish point. But I cannot speak of it; say no more." - -"I will own," replied Overshute, studying the Squire's downcast face, -to see how far he might venture, "at one time I thought that you -yourself carried such notions to a foolish length. That was before my -illness. Now, I most fully believe that you were quite right." - -"Yes, I suppose that I was--so far as duty goes, and the parson's -advice. But as for the result--where is it?" - -"As yet we see none. But we very soon shall. Can you bear to hear -something I want to say, and to listen to it attentively?" - -"I believe that I can, Russel. There is nothing now that can disturb -me very much." - -"This will disturb you, my dear sir, but in a very pleasant way, I -hope. As sure as I stand and look at you here, and as sure as the -Almighty looks down at us both, that grave in Beckley churchyard holds -a gipsy-woman, and no child of yours! Ah! I put it too abruptly, as I -always do. But give me your arm, sir, and walk a few steps. I am not -very strong, any more than you are. But, please God, we will both get -stronger, as soon as our troubles begin to lift." - -Each of them took the right course to get stronger, by putting forth -his little strength, to help and guide the other's steps. - -"Russel, what did you say just now?" Mr. Oglander asked, when the pair -had managed to get as far as another little bower, Grace's own, and -there sat down. "I must have taken your meaning wrong. I am not so -clear as I was, and often there is a noise inside my head." - -"I told you, sir, that I had proved for certain that your dear -daughter has not been buried here--nor anywhere else, to my firm -belief. Also I have found out and established (to my own most bitter -cost) who it was that lies buried here, and of what terrible disease -she died. As regards my own illness, I would go through it again--come -what might come of it--for the sake of your darling Grace; but, alas! -I have lost my own dear mother through this utterly fiendish plot--for -such it is, I do believe! This poor girl buried here was the younger -sister of Cinnaminta!" - -"Cinnaminta!" said the Squire, trying to arouse old memory. "Surely I -have heard that name. But tell me all, Russel; for God's sake, tell me -all, and how you came to find it out, and what it has to do with my -lost pet." - -"My dear sir, if you tremble so I shall fear to tell you another word. -Remember, it is all good, so far as it goes; instead of trembling you -should smile and rejoice." - -"So I will--so I will; or at least I will try. There, now, look--I -have taken a pinch of snuff, you need have no fear for me after that." - -"All I know beyond what I have told you is that your Gracie--and my -Grace too--was driven off in a chaise and pair, through the narrow -lanes towards Wheatley. I have not been able to follow the track in my -present helpless condition; and, indeed, what I know I only learned -this morning; and I thought it my duty to come and tell you at once. I -had it from poor Cinnaminta's own lips, who for a week or more had -been lurking near the house to see me. This morning I could not resist -a little walk--lonely and miserable as it was--and the poor thing told -me all she knew. She was in the deepest affliction herself at the loss -of her only surviving child, and she fancied that I had saved his life -before, and she had deep pangs of ingratitude, and of Nemesis, etc.; -and hence she was driven to confess all her share; which was but a -little one. She was tempted by the chance of getting money enough to -place her child in the care of a first-rate doctor." - -"But Grace--my poor Grace!--how was she tempted--or was she forced -away from me?" - -"That I cannot say as yet; Cinnaminta had no idea. She did not even -see the carriage; for she herself was borne off by her tribe, who were -quite in a panic at the fever. But she heard that no violence was -used, and there was a lady in the chaise; and poor Grace went quite -readily, though she certainly did seem to sob a little. It was no -elopement, Mr. Oglander, nor anything at all of that kind. The poor -girl believed that she was acting under your orders in all she did; -just as she had believed that same when she left her aunt's house to -meet you on the homeward road, through that forged letter, which, most -unluckily, she put into her pocket. There, I believe I have told you -all I can think of for the moment. Of course, you will keep the whole -to yourself, for we have to deal with subtle brutes. Is there anything -you would like to ask?" - -"Russel Overshute," said the Squire, "I am not fit to go into things -now; I mean all the little ins and outs. And you look so very ill, my -dear fellow, I am quite ashamed of allowing you to talk. Come into the -house and have some nourishment. If any man ever wanted it, you do -now. How did you come over?" - -"Well, I broke a very ancient vow. If there is anything I detest it is -to see a young man sitting alone inside of a close carriage. But we -never know what we may come to. I tried to get upon my horse, but -could not. By the bye, do you know Hardenow?" - -"Not much," said the Squire; "I have seen him once or twice, and I -know that he is a great friend of yours. He is one of the new lights, -is not he?" - -"I am sure I don't know, or care. He is a wonderfully clever fellow, -and as true as steel, and a gentleman. He has heard of course of your -sad trouble, but only the popular account of it. He does not even know -of my feelings--but I will not speak now of them----" - -"You may, my dear fellow, with all my heart. You have behaved like a -true son to me; and if ever a gracious Providence----" - -Overshute took Mr. Oglander's hand, and held it in silence for a -moment; he could not bear the idea of even the faintest appearance of -a bargain now. The Squire understood, and liked him all the better, -and waved his left hand towards the dining-room. - -"One thing more, while we are alone," resumed the young man, much as -he longed for, and absolutely needed, good warm victuals; "Hardenow is -a tremendous walker; six miles an hour are nothing to him; the 'Flying -Dutchman' he is called, although he hasn't got a bit of calf. Of -course, I would not introduce him into this matter without your leave. -But may I tell him all, and send him scouting, while you and I are so -laid upon the shelf? He can go where you and I could not, and nobody -will suspect him. And, of course, as regards intelligence alone, he is -worth a dozen of that ass John Smith; at any rate, he would find no -mare's nests. May I try it? If so, I will take on the carriage to -Oxford, as soon as I have had a bit to eat." - -"With all my heart," cried the Squire, whose eyes were full again of -life and hope. "Hardenow owes a debt to Beckley. It was Cripps who got -him his honours and fellowship--or at least the Carrier says so; and -we all believe our Carrier. And after all, whatever there is to do, -nobody does it like a gentleman, and especially a good scholar. I -remember a striking passage in the syntax of the Eton Latin grammar. I -make no pretension to learning when I quote it, for it hath been -quoted in the House of Lords. Perhaps you remember it, my dear -Russel." - -"My Latin has turned quite rusty, Squire," answered Overshute, -knowing, as well as Proteus, what was coming. - -"The passage is this,"--Mr. Oglander always smote his frilled shirt, -in this erudition, and delivered, _ore rotundo_-- - - "Scilicet ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes, - Emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros." - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - -LET ME OUT. - - -At about the same hour of that Sunday afternoon, Miss Patch sat alone -in her little cottage, stubbornly reasoning with herself. She was -growing rather weary of her task, which had been a long and heavy one; -a great deal longer, and a great deal heavier, than she ever could -have dreamed at the outset. It was for the sake of the kingdom of -heaven that she had laid her hand to this plough; and now it seemed -likely to be a "plough," in the sense in which that word is lightly -used by undergraduates. - -For public opinion Miss Patch cared nothing. Her view of the world was -purely and precisely "Scriptural," according to her own -interpretation. Any line of action was especially recommended to her -by the certainty that "the world" would condemn it. She had led a life -of misery with her father, the gambling captain, the man of fashion, -who made slaves of his children; and being already of a narrow gauge -of mind, she laid herself out for theology; not true religion, but -enough to please her, and make her sure that she was always right. - -Grace, being truly of a docile nature, and most unsuspicious (as her -father was before her), had implicit faith in the truth and honour of -her good Aunt Patch. She looked upon her as so devoutly pious and -grandly upright, that any idea of fraud on her part seemed almost -profanity. She believed the good lady to be acting wholly under the -guidance of her own father, and as his representative; in which there -seemed nothing either strained or strange, especially as the Squire -had once placed his daughter in the charge of Miss Patch, for a course -of Scriptural and historical reading. And the first misgiving in the -poor girl's mind arose from what Christopher Sharp had told her. Of -pining and lonely weariness, weeks and weeks she had endured, under -the firm belief that her father was compelled to have it so, and in -the hope of the glorious time when he should come to take her home. -For all that she could see good reason--according to what she had been -told--but she could see no reason whatever why Miss Patch should have -told her falsehoods as to the place in which they lived. Having been -challenged upon this subject by her indignant niece, the elderly lady -now sat thinking. She was as firmly convinced as ever, that in all she -had done, she had acted strictly and purely for the glory of the Lord. -Grace, a great heiress, and a silly girl, was at the point of being -snapped up by the papists, and made one of them; whereupon both an -immortal soul and £150,000 would be devoted to perdition. Of this Miss -Patch had been thoroughly assured before she would give her help at -all. It was well known that Russel Overshute loved and would win Grace -Oglander, and that Russel's dearest friend was Hardenow of Brasenose, -and that Hardenow was the deepest Jesuit ever admitted to holy orders -in the Church of England; therefore, at heart, Russel Overshute must -be a papist of the deepest dye; and anybody with half an eye could see -through that conspiracy. To defeat such a scheme, Miss Patch would -have promised to spend six months in a hollow tree; but promise and -performance are a "very different pair of shoes;" and the lady (though -fed, like a woodpecker, on the choicest of all sylvan food) even now, -in four months' time, was tiring of her martyrdom. - -Her cottage in a wood had long been growing loathsome to her. The -deeds of the Lord she admired greatly, when they were homicidal; but -of His large and kindly works she had no congenial liking. The -fluttering spread of leaves, that hang like tips of empty gloves one -day, and after one kind night lift forth (like the hand of a baby with -his mind made up), and the change of colour all under the trees, -whether the ground be grassed or naked; also the delicate sliding of -the light in and out the peeling wands of brush-wood, and flat upon -the lichened stones, and even in the coarsest hour of the day--which -generally is from 1 to 2 p.m., when all mankind are dining--the quiet -spread and receptive width of growth that has to catch its light--for -none of these pretty little scenes did Miss Patch care so much as half -a patch. And she was sure that they gave her the rheumatism. - -She was longing to be in London now, to sit beneath the noble -eloquence of preachers and orators most divine, who spend the prime of -the year in reviling their friends and extolling the negro. Whereas -for weeks and weeks, in this ungodly forest, she had no chance of -receiving any spiritual ministration; save once, when Tickuss, on a -Sunday morning, had driven her in his pig-cart to a little Wesleyan -chapel some three miles off at the end of a hamlet. Here people stared -at her so, and asked such questions, that she durst not go again; and, -indeed, the pleasure was not worth the risk, for the shoemaker who -preached was a thoroughly quiet, ungifted man, without an evil word -for anybody. - -Not only these large regrets and yearnings were thronging upon this -lady now, but also a small although feminine feeling of desire for -support and guidance. Strong-minded as she was, and conscious of her -lofty mission, from time to time she grew faint-hearted in that dreary -solitude, without the encouragement of the cool male will. This for -some days she had not received, and she knew not why it had failed -her. - -Though the afternoon was so bright with temptation, the wood so rich -with wonders, Miss Patch preferred to nurse her knee by the little -fire in her parlour. She had always hated to be out of doors, and to -see too much of things which did not bear out her opinions, and to -lose that clear knowledge of the will of the Lord which is lost by -those who study Him. She loved to discern in everything that happened -to her liking "the grand and infinite potentiality of an all-wise -Providence;" and, if a little thing went amiss, she laid all the blame -to the badly principled interference of the devil. - -While she was deeply pondering thus, and warming her little teapot, in -ran the beautiful and lively girl, who had long been growing too much -for her. It was not only the brighter spring of young life in this -Gracie, and her pretty ways, and nice surprises, and pleasure in -pleasing others, and graceful turns of cookery, but also her pure -fount of loving-kindness which (having no other way out) was obliged -to steal around Miss Patch herself. Although she had been ill-content -with the only explanation she could get about her dwelling-place--to -wit, that in these roadless parts distance was very much a matter of -conjecture--Grace had no suspicion yet of any plot or conspiracy. All -things had been planned so deeply, and carried out so cleverly, that -any such suspicion would have been contrary to her nature. She had -lost, by some unaccountable carelessness, both the note from her -father, which she had received at her Aunt Joan's, and also his more -important letter delivered to her, when she met the chaise, by her -kind and pious "Aunty Patch." In the first note (delivered by a little -boy) she had simply been called forth to meet her father in the lane, -and to walk home with him, as he wished to speak with her by herself. -She was not to wait to pack any of her clothes, as they would be sent -for afterwards; and he hoped her Aunt Joan would excuse his deferring -their little dinner for the present. - -But when, instead of meeting him, she found the chaise with Miss Patch -inside it, and was invited to step in, a real letter was handed to -her, the whole of which in the waning light--the day being very brown -and gloomy--she could not easily make out. But she learned enough to -see that she was to place herself under the care of Miss Patch, and -not expect to see her dear father for at least some weeks to come. Her -hair, for the reason therein given, was to be cut off at once, and not -even kept in the carriage; and the poor girl submitted, with a few low -sobs, to the loss of her beautiful bright tresses. But what were they? -How small and selfish of her to think twice of them in the presence of -the heavy trouble threatening her dear father, and the anguish of -losing him for so long, without even so much as a kiss of farewell! -For, after his first brief scrawl, he had found that, by starting at -once, he could catch at Falmouth the packet for Demerara, and thus -save a fortnight in getting to his estates, which were threatened with -ruin. If these should be lost to him, Gracie knew (as he had no -secrets from her) that half his income would go at one sweep--which, -for his own sake, would matter little; but, for the sake of his -darling, must, if possible, be prevented. - -He had no time now for another word, except that he had left his house -at Beckley, just as it stood, to be let by his agent, to cover the -expenses of this long voyage, and to get him out of two difficulties. -He could not have left his dear child there alone; and, if he could, -he would not have done so, for a most virulent fever had long been -hanging about, and had now broken out hard by; and Dr. Splinters had -strictly ordered, the moment he heard of it, that the dear child's -hair should be cropped to her head, and burned or cast away, for -nothing harboured infection as hair did. With a few words of blessing, -and comfort, and love, and a promise to write from Demerara, and a -fatherly hope that for his sake she would submit to Miss Patch in all -things, and make the most of this opportunity for completing her -course of Scriptural and historical reading, the dear old father had -signed himself her "loving papa, W. O." - -Grace would have been a very different girl from her own frank self, -if she had even dreamed of suspecting the genuineness of this letter. -It was in her father's crabbed, and upright, and queerly-jointed hand, -from the first line to the last. For a moment, indeed, she had been -surprised that he called himself her "papa," because he did not like -the word, and thought it a piece of the foreign stuff which had better -continue to be foreign. But there stood the word; and in his hurry how -could he stop to such trifles? This letter had been lost; poor Grace -could not imagine how, because she had taken such great care of it, -and had slept with it under her pillow always. Nevertheless, it had -disappeared, leaving tears of self-reproach in her downcast eyes, as -she searched the wood for it. And this made her careful tenfold of the -two letters she had received from George-town. - -But now, as she came with her Sunday hat on, and her pretty Woodstock -gloves, and her neat brown skirt looped up (for challenge of briers, -and furze, and dog-rose), and, best of all, with the bloom on her -cheeks, and the sparkle in her clear soft eyes, and the May sun making -glory in her rolling clouds of new-grown hair--and, better than best, -that smile of the heart filling the whole young face with light--she -really looked as if it would be impossible to say "no" to her. - -"Aunty," she began, "it is quite an age since you have let me have a -walk at all. One would think that I wanted to run away with that very -smart young gentleman, who possesses and exhibits that extremely -lustrous riding-whip. If he has only got a horse to match it--what is -the name, dear Aunty, of that inestimable historical jewel that -somebody stole out of somebody's eye?" - -"Grace, will you never remember anything? It is now called the Orloff, -or Schaffras gem, and is set in the Russian sceptre." - -"Then that must be the name of this gentleman's horse, to enable it to -go with such a whip. Dear Aunty now, even that whip will not tempt me -or move me to run away from you. Only do please to allow me forth. -This horrid little garden is so shaded and sour, that even a daisy -cannot live. But in the wood I find all things lovely. May I have a -run for only half an hour?" - -"Upon one condition," replied Miss Patch; "that if you see any one, -you shall come back at once, and let me know." - -"What, even the fat man with the flapped hat and the smock on? I never -go out without seeing him, though he never seems to see me at all. He -must be very short-sighted." - -"Oh no, my dear; never mind that poor man; he looks after the cattle -or something. What I mean is, any young gentleman, who ought to be at -home on the Sabbath day. And wrestle with your natural frivolity, my -dear, that no worldly thoughts may assault and hurt the soul upon this -holy day." - -"I will do my best, Aunty. But how can I help thinking of the things I -see?" - -Miss Patch having less than any faith in unregenerate human nature, -feared that she might have been wrong in allowing even this limited -freedom to Grace. The truth of it was that, without fresh guidance -from a mind far deeper than her own, she could not see the right thing -to do in the new complication arising. The interviews between Kit -Sharp and Grace were the very thing desired, and surely must have led -to something good, which ought to be carefully followed up. And yet, -if she met him again, she would be quite sure to go on with her -questions; and Kit, being purely outside of the plot, would reply with -the most inconvenient truth. Miss Patch had written, as promptly as -could be, to ask what she ought to do in this crisis. But no answer -had come through the trusty Tickuss, nor any well-provided visit. The -Christian-minded lady could not tell at all what to make of it. Then, -calling to mind the sacredness of the day, she dismissed the subject; -and sternly rebuked deaf Margery Daw for not keeping the kettle -boiling. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - -REASON AND UNREASON. - - -When things were in this very ticklish condition almost everywhere, -and even Cripps himself could scarcely sleep because of rumours, and -Dobbin in his own clean stable found the flies too many for him, an -exceedingly active man set out to scour the whole of the -neighbourhood. To the large and vigorous mind of the Rev. Thomas -Hardenow, the worst of all sins (because the most tempting and -universal) was indolence. - -Hardenow never condemned a poor man for having his pint or his quart -of ale (with his better half to help him), when he had earned it by a -hard day's work, and had fed his children likewise. Hardenow thought -it not easy to find any hypocrisy more bald or any morality more cheap -than that or those which strut about, reviling the poor man for -taking, in the cheaper liquid form, the nourishment which "his -betters" can afford to have in the shape of meat; and then are not -content with it, unless it is curdled with some duly sour vintage. And -passing such crucial points of debate, Hardenow always could make -allowance for any sins rather than those which spring from a -treacherous, sneaking, and lying essence. - -Now, a council was held at the Grange of Shotover on the Monday. A sad -and melancholy house it was, with its fine old mistress lately buried, -and its poor young master only half recovered. The young tutor had -been especially invited, and having heard everything from the Squire -(who was proud of having ridden so far, yet broke down ridiculously -among his boasts), and from Russel Overshute (who had thrown himself -back for at least three days by excitement and exertion yesterday), -and also from Mrs. Fermitage (who had lately been feeling herself -overlooked), Hardenow thought for some little time before he would -give his opinion. Not that he was, by any manner of means, possessed -with the greatness of his own ideas; but that Mrs. Fermitage, from a -low velvet chair, looked up at him with such emphatic inquiry and -implicit faith, that he was quite in a difficulty how to speak, or -what to say. - -And so he said a very few short words of sympathy and of kindness, and -gladly offered to do his best, and obey the orders given him; so far, -at least, as his duty to his college and pupils permitted. He -confessed that he had thought of this matter many times before he was -invited to do so, and without the knowledge which he now possessed, or -the special interest in the subject which he now must feel for the -sake of Russel. But Mrs. Fermitage, filled with respect for the wisdom -of a fellow and tutor of a college, would not let Hardenow thus -escape; and being compelled to give his opinion, he did so with his -usual clearness. - -"I am not at all a man of the world," he said; "and of the law I know -nothing. My friend Russel is a man of the world, and knows a good deal -of the law as well. A word from him is worth many of mine. But if Mrs. -Fermitage insists upon having my crude ideas, they are these. First of -the first, and by far the most important--I believe that Miss Oglander -is alive, and that her father will receive her safe and sound, though -not perhaps still Miss Oglander." - -"God bless you, my dear sir!" the Squire broke in, getting up to lay -hold of the young man's hand. "I don't care a straw what her name may -be--Snooks, or Snobbs, or Higginbotham--if I only get sight of my -darling child again!" - -Russel Overshute looked rather queer at this, and so did Mrs. -Fermitage; but the Squire continued in the same sort of way--"What -odds about her name, if it only is my Grace?" - -"Exactly so," replied Hardenow; "that natural feeling of yours perhaps -has been foreseen and counted on; and that may be why such trouble was -taken to terrify you with the idea of her death. Also, of course, that -would paralyze your search, while the villains are at leisure to -complete their work." - -"I declare, I never thought of that," cried Russel. "How extremely -thick-headed of me! That theory accounts for a number of things that -cannot be otherwise explained. What a head you have got, my dear Tom, -to be sure!" - -"I wish I could believe it!" Mr. Oglander exclaimed, whilst his sister -clasped her fair fat hands, and looked with amazement at every one. -"But I see no motive, no motive whatever. My Grace was a dear good -girl, as everybody knows, and a fortune in herself; but of worldly -goods she had very little, any more than I have; and her prospects -were naturally contingent--contingent upon many things, which may not -come to pass, I hope, for many years--if they ever do." Here he looked -at his sister, and she said, "I hope so." "Therefore," continued Mr. -Oglander, "while there are so many fine girls in the county, very much -better worth carrying off--so far as mere worthless pelf is -concerned--why should anybody steal my Grace unless they stole her for -her own sake?" - -Here the Squire sat down, and took to drumming with his stick. His -feelings were hurt at the idea--though it was so entirely of his own -origination--that his daughter had been carried off for the sake of -her money, not of her own dear self. Hardenow looked at him and made -no answer. He felt that it did not behove a mere stranger to ask about -the young lady's expectations; while Overshute was more imperatively -silenced by his relations towards the family. But Mrs. Fermitage came -to the rescue. Great was her faith in the value of money, and she -liked to have it known that she had plenty. - -"Tut, tut," she cried, shaking out her new brocaded silk--a mourning -dress certainly, but softly trimmed with purple--"why should we make -any mystery of things, when the truth is most important? And the truth -is, Mr. Hardenow, that my dear niece had very good expectations. My -deeply lamented husband, respected, and I may say reverenced, for -upwards of half a century, in every college of Oxford, and even more -so by the corporation, for the pure integrity of his character, the -loftiness of his principles, and--and the substance of his--what they -make the wine of--he was not the man, Mr. Hardenow, to leave a devoted -wife behind him, who had stepped perhaps out of her rank a little, not -being of commercial birth, you know, but never found cause to regret -it, without some provision for the earthly time which she, being many -years his junior----" - -"Come, come, Joan, not so very many," exclaimed the truthful Squire; -"about five, or say six, at the utmost. You were born on the 25th of -June, A.D.----" - -"Worth, I was not asking you for statistics. Mr. Hardenow, you will -excuse my brother. He has always had a rude style of interruption; he -learned it, I believe, in the army, and we always make allowance for -it. But to go back to what I was saying--my good and ever to be -lamented husband, being, let us say, ten years my senior--Worth, will -that content you?--left every farthing of his property to me; and a -good husband always does the same thing, I am told, and I believe they -are ordered in the Bible; and, of course, I have no one to leave it to -but Grace; and being so extraordinarily advanced in years, as my dear -brother has impressed upon you, they could not have any very long time -to wait; and my desire is to do my duty; and perhaps that lies at the -bottom of it all." - -After relieving her mind in this succinct yet copious manner, the good -lady went into her chair again, carefully directing, in whatever state -of mind, the gathering and the falling of her dress aright. And though -it might be fancied that her colour had been high, anybody now could -see that her dignity had conquered it. - -"Now, the whole of this goes for next to nothing," said the Squire, -while the young men looked at one another, and longed to be out of the -way of it. "As we have got into the subject, let us go right down to -the bottom of it. What are filthy pence and halfpence, or a cellar, -like Balak's, of silver and gold, when compared with the life of one -pure dear soul? I may not express myself theologically, but you can -see what I mean exactly. I mean that I would kick old Port-wine's -dross to the bottom of the Red Sea, where Pharaoh lies, if it turns -out that that has killed my child, or made her this long time dead to -me." - -Having justified his feelings thus, the old man stood up, and went to -the window, to look for his horse. The very last thing he desired -always was to let out what he felt too much. But to hear that old -thief of a "Port-wine Fermitage" praised, and his lucre put forward, -quite as if it were an equivalent for Grace, and to think that he owed -to that filthy cause the loss of the liveliest, loveliest darling, -without whom he had neither life nor love--such things were enough to -break the balance of his patience; and the rest might think them out -amongst them. - -Now, this might have made a very serious to-do between Mr. Oglander -and his sister Joan, both of them being of the stiff-necked order, if -he had been allowed to ride away like this. Mrs. Fermitage had her -great carriage in the yard, and two black horses with wide valleys -down their backs, rattling rings of the brightest brass, while they -stood in the stable with a bail between them, and gently deigned to -blow the chaff off from the oats of Shotover. This goodly pair made a -great rush now into the mind of their mistress--the only sort of rush -they ever made--and seeing her brother in that state of mind to get -away from her, she became inspired with an equal desire to get away -from him. - -"Will you kindly ring the bell," she said, "and order my horses to be -put to? I think I have quite said every word I had to say. And being -the only lady present, of course I labour under some--well, some -little disadvantages. Not, of course, that I mean for a moment----" - -"To be sure not, Joan! You never do know what you mean. You would be a -very nasty woman if you did. Now, do let us turn our minds the -pleasant way to everything. If any word has come from me to lead to -strong kind of argument, I beg pardon of everybody; and then there -ought to be an end of it." - -Mrs. Fermitage scarcely knew what to say, but in a relenting way -looked round for some one to take it up for her. And she was not long -without somebody. - -"Mr. Oglander," said Russel Overshute, "you really ought to give us -time to think. You are growing so hasty, sir, since you came back to -your seat in the saddle, and your cross-country ways, that you want to -ride over every one of us--ladies and gentlemen, all alike." - -The old Squire laughed, he could not help it, at the thought of his -own effrontery. He felt that there might be some truth about it, ever -since it had come into his mind that he might not after all be -childless. He would not have any one know, for a thousands pounds, why -he was laughing; or that half another word might turn it into weeping. -He had seen it proved in learned books that no man knew the way to -weep at his time of life; and if his own case went against it, he had -the manners to be ashamed of it. So he waited till he felt that his -face was right, and then he went up to his sister Joan, who was -growing uneasy about her own words; and he took her two plump hands in -his, and gave a glance, for all there present to be welcome witnesses. -And then, having knowledge for the last ten years how much too fat she -was to lift, he managed to kiss her in the two right places, -disarranging nothing. - -His sister looked up at him, as soon as he had done it, with a sense -of his propriety and study of her harmonies; and she whispered to him -quietly, "I beg you pardon, brother." And he spoke up for all to hear -him, "Joan, my dear, I beg your pardon." - -"Now, the first thing to be done," said Hardenow, "is to find -Cinnaminta and her husband Smith. But allow me to make one important -request, that even your adviser, Mr. Luke Sharp, shall not be informed -of what has passed to-day, or what Overshute found out yesterday." - -With some little surprise they agreed to this. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. - -MEETING THE COACH. - - -There happened, however, to be some one else, whose opinion differed -very widely from that of Mr. Hardenow, as to the necessity for any -prompt appearance of either Mr. or Mrs. Joseph Smith. - -The old red house in Cross Duck Lane was ready to jump out of its -windows--if such a feat be possible--with eagerness and anxiety at the -long absence of its master. Mr. Luke Sharp had not crossed his own -threshold for ten whole days, including two Sundays, when even an -attorney may give leg-bail to the Power under whose "Ca. ad sa." he -lives. The business of the noble firm of Piper, Pepper, Sharp, & Co. -was falling sadly into arrears, at the very busiest time of year; for -Mr. Sharp had always kept his very best clerks in leading strings; and -Kit thus far, with his mother's aid, had battled against all articles. -Christopher Fermitage Sharp, Esq., was resolved to be a country -gentleman and a sportsman, and no quill-driver; he felt that his arms, -and legs as well, were a great deal too good for going on and under -desk. - -With fine resignation Kit accepted the absence of his father. With his -father away, he was a very great man; with his father at home, he was -quite a small boy. He liked to play master of a house, and frighten -his mother and the maids; and vow to dine at the Mitre all the rest of -the week--if that was their style of cookery! - -But poor Mrs. Sharp could not treat the matter thus. Truly delighted -as she was to see her dear boy take his father's place, and conduct -himself with dignity as the head of the household, and find fault with -things of which he knew nothing, and order this, that, and the other -away--still she could not help remembering that all this was not as it -ought to be. Christopher ought to have been in tortures of intense -anxiety; and, so far as that went, so ought she; and she really tried -very hard not to sleep, and to sit up listening for the night-bell. -But a man who thinks everything of his own will, and nothing of any -other person's wish, may be pretty sure that none will miss his -presence so much as himself does. - -In spite of all that, Mrs. Sharp was anxious, and so were the rest of -the household--though rather perhaps with care than love--at the long, -unaccountable absence of the head and the brain of everything. Even -the boys in Cross Duck Lane, who had a strong idea that Lawyer Sharp -would defend them against the magistrates, were beginning to feel that -they must look out before throwing stones at any other boys. - -"You are not at all the thing, my darling boy," said Mrs. Sharp to -Christopher, on the evening of that same Monday on which the Council -had been held at Shotover; "your want of appetite makes me wretched. -Now, put on your cloak, my pet, and go as far as Carfax, or Magdalen -Bridge. The two evening coaches will soon be in--the 'Defiance' and -the 'Regulator.' I have a strong idea that your father will come by -one or other of them." - -"I may just as well go there as anywhere else," the young man answered -gloomily. For some days now he had striven in vain for an interview -with his charmer; and, most unkindest cut of all, he had spied her -once, and she had run away. "It does not matter where I go." - -"When you talk like that, dear child, you have no idea what you do. -You simply break the heart of your poor mother--and much you care for -that! Now, if you should see any very fresh calves' sweet-breads, or -even a pig's fry, or anything you fancy, order it in, dear, at once; -and be sure that you are at home by nine o'clock; and bring your dear -papa with you, if you can." - -Kit, with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, flung his cloak around him; -and with long, slow, melancholy strides clomb the arduous steep of -Carfax. Here at that time--if any faith there be to bruit of -veterans--eighty well-equipped quadrigæ daily passed with prance of -steeds and sound of classic trump, and often youthful charioteer, more -apt to handle than win ribbons. Forty chariots came from smoke, and -wealth, and din of blessed Rome; and other forty sped them back, with -the glory and mud of the country divine. - -The moody Kit ensconced himself, away from the tramp of the vulgar crowd, -in the beetling doorway of a tailor who had put his shutters up; and -thrice being challenged by proctors velvet-sleeved, and velvet-selvaged -Pro--"Sir, are you a member of this university?"--thrice had the pleasure -of answering "No!" Once and again he wiped his hectic cheek and -fevered brow with a yellow bandana, from which the winner of last -year's Derby was washing out; and he saw the "Defiance" and the -"Regulator" pass, newly horsed from rival inns, exalting their horns -against one another, with splinter-bars swinging behind cocked tails, -all eager for their race upon the Cheltenham road. But he saw not the -author of his existence; yet no tear bedewed his unfilial eye, though -these were the likeliest coaches. - -"All right," he said, putting his pipe in its case; "governor won't -come home to-night. I'm in no hurry, if he isn't. I think I'll have -sheep's trotters. It's a beastly time of the year for anything." -Twitching his cloak, which had two long tassels, he strode, from his -post of observation and morbid meditation, towards a tidy and clean -little tripe-shop. He knew the old woman who kept it, in George -Street; and she always put him into good condition by generous -admiration. - -Alas! he had stridden but a very few strides, when he met the up-coach -from Woodstock, wearily with spent horses making rally for the Star. -The driver (a man of fine family at Christchurch, now in his seventh -term, and fighting off his "smalls"), with a turn of his strong arm, -pulled the team together, while with the other hand he launched a -scouring flourish of the shrill scourge over every blessed horse's -ears. - -"Well done, my lord!" said the gentleman on the box, as the four -horses pulled up foot for foot, and stood with their ears and their -noses one for one; "you have brought them up in noble style, my lord. -I never saw it done more perfectly." - -My lord touched his white hat, and said nothing. He had crowned his -day, as he always loved to crown it; and now, if he could get into a -back room of the Star, pull off his top-boots and cape, and don cap -and gown, and fetch back to college clear of £5 fine--as happy as any -lord would he be, till nature sent him forth to drive again tomorrow. - -But Kit, having very keen ears, had recognised, even from the other -side of the street, the sound of his dear father's voice. Mr. Luke -Sharp never missed a chance of commending a nobleman's exploits; but -he would not have spoken in so loud a tone, perhaps, if he had known -that his son was near at hand. For he hated with a consistent -hatred--whether he were doing well or ill--all observation of his -movements by any member of his household. Christopher, being well -aware of this, pursued his own course in the shadow, but resolved, -with filial piety, to keep his good father in sight for fear of his -falling into any mischief. - -First of all, Mr. Sharp--as observed at a respectful distance by his -son--went into the coach office, and there left his hand-bag and his -travelling coat; then, carrying something rolled under his arm, he -betook himself to a little quiet tap-room, and called for something -that loomed and steamed afar, very much after the manner of hot brown -grog. - -"Ho, ho!" muttered Kit; "then he isn't going home. My duty to the -household commands me to learn why." - -With a smack of his lips, Mr. Sharp the elder came out into -Corn-Market Street again, and turning his back on his home, set forth -at a rapid pace for the broad desert of St. Giles. Here he passed into -an unlit alley, in the lonely parts beyond St. John's; and Kit, full -of wonder, was about to follow, but hung back as the receding figure -suddenly stopped and began to shift about. In a nice dark place, the -learned gentleman unrolled the travelling rug he had been carrying, -undoubled it, after that, from some selvage--and, lo, there was a city -watchman's large loose overall! Then he pressed down the crown of his -black spring-hat, till it lay on his head like a pancake, pulled the -pouch of his long cloak over that, and emerged from his alley with a -vigilant slouch, whistling "Moll Maloney." Considerable surprise found -its way into the candid mind of Christopher. - -"Well now!" thought the ungrateful youth, as he shrank behind a tree -to peep; "I always knew that the governor was a notch or two too deep -for us; but what he is up to now surpasses all experience of him. What -shall I do? It seems so nasty to go spying after him. And yet things -are taking such a very strange turn, that, for the sake of my mother, -who is worth a thousand of him, I do believe I am bound to see what -this strange go may lead to." - -Young curiosity sprang forth, and strongly backed up his sense of -duty; insomuch that Kit, after hesitating and listening for any other -step, stealthily followed the "author of his existence" across the -dark and dusty road. "He is going to Squeaker Smith's," thought the -lad; "he will get a horse, and ride away, no end; and of course I can -never go after him. I am sure it has something to do with me. Such -troubles are enough to drive one mad." - -But Mr. Sharp did not turn in at the lamp-lit entrance to those mews. -He shunned the beaming oil, which threw barred shadows upon sawdust of -a fine device, and, keeping all his merits in the dark, strode on, -like a watchman newly ordered to his post. Then suddenly he turned -down a narrow unmade lane, hillocked with clay, and leading (as -Christopher knew quite well) to the wildest part of "Jericho." - -"I will follow him no further," said Kit Sharp, with a pang of -astonishment and doubt; "he is my father; what right have I to pry -into his secrets? How I wish that I had not followed him at all! It -serves me right for meanness. I will go home now; what care I for -anything--trotters, cow-heel, or sweet-bread?" - -As he turned, to carry out this good resolve, with a heart that would -have ailed him more for leaving fears unfinished, the sound of a -clouting, loutish footstep came along the broken mud-banks of the -narrow lane. The place was lonely, dark, and villainous: foot-pads -still abounded. Kit knew that his father often carried large sums of -money, and always the great gold watch; he might have been decoyed -here for robbery and murder, upon pretence of secret business; clearly -it was the young man's duty not to be too far away. Therefore he drew -back, and stood in the jaws of the dark entrance. - -But while he was ready to leap forth if wanted, the sound of quiet -voices told him that there was no danger. Kit could not hear the first -few words; but his father came back towards the mouth of the lane, as -if he would much rather not go into the dark too deeply. Christopher -therefore was obliged either to draw back into the hedge, and there -lie hid without moving, or else to come forward and declare himself. -He knew that the latter was his proper course, or he might have known -it, if he had taken time to think; but the dread of his father and the -hurry of the moment drove him, without thought, into the -lurking-place. It was quite dark now, and there was not a lamp within -a furlong of them. - -"You quite understand me, then;" Mr. Sharp was speaking in a low clear -voice; "you are not to say a word to Cripps about it. He is true -enough to me, because he dare not be otherwise; but he is an arrant -coward. I want a man who has the spirit to defy the law, when he knows -that he is well backed up." - -"Governor, I am your man for that. I have defied the law, since I were -that high, with only my mother, in the wukuss, to back me." - -"What I mean is, to defy the wrong fashions of the law; the petty -rules that go against all common sense and equity." - -"All the fashions of the law be wrong. I might a' got on in the world -like a house afire, if it hadn't been for the devil's own law. To tell -me a thing is agin the law is as good as an eyster to my teeth. Go on, -governor, no fear of that, I say." - -"And you know where to find, at any moment, a man as resolute as -yourself--Joe Smith. Well, you know what you have to do, in case of -any sudden stir arising. At present all goes well; but all, at any -moment, may go wrong. Squire Overshute is about again at last----" - -"Ah, if I could only come across of he of a dark night, such as this -be----" - -"And that fool Cinnaminta has told him all she knows--which, luckily, -is not very much. I took good care to keep women out of it. And the -Carrier too has been smelling about--but he hasn't the sense of his -own horse. Night and day, George, night and day, keep a look-out, and -have the horses ready. You know what I have done for you, my man." - -"Governor, if it hadn't been for you, I might a' seed the clouds -through a halter loop." - -"You speak the truth, and express it well. And you may still enjoy -that fair opportunity, unless you attend to every word I say." - -"No fear, governor; I know you too well. A good friend and a bad enemy -you be. Thick and thin, sir--thick and thin. Agin all the world, sir, -I sticks by you." - -"Enough for to-night, my man. Get ready and be off. I shall know where -to find you, as before. I shall ride over to-morrow, if I find it -needful." - -With these words, Mr. Luke Sharp set off at a good round pace for -Oxford, while the other man shambled and whistled his way homewards up -the black-mouthed lane. Perceiving these things, Christopher Sharp, -with young bones, leaped from his hiding-place. Astonishment might -have been read upon his ingenuous and fat countenance, if the lighting -committee of the corporation had carried out their duty. But (having -no house of their own out here) they had, far back, put colophon upon -the nascent gas-pipe. The ambition of the city, at that time, was to -fill all the houses of the citizens, and extend in no direction. But -though his countenance, for want of light, only wasted its amazement, -Kit--like Hector with his windpipe damaged, but not by any means -perforated--gave issue to his sentiments. Unlike Hector--so far as we -know--Kit had been forming a habit of using language too strong for -ladies. - -"Blow me!" was his unheroic exclamation--"blow me, if ever yet I knew -so queer a start as this! Sure as eggs is eggs, that is the very -blackguard I drubbed for his insolence! His voice is enough, and his -snuffle; and I believe he was rubbing his nose in the dark. I am sure -he's the man; I could swear it's the man, though I could not see his -filthy face at all. My father to be in a conspiracy with him! And poor -Cinnaminta, and Mr. Overshute! What the dickens is the meaning of it -all? The governor has a thousand times my brains, as everybody says, -and I am the last to grudge it to him; and he thinks he can do what he -likes with me. I am not quite sure of that, if he puts my pecker up -too heavily." - -To throw his favourite light on his own reflections, Kit Sharp lit his -pipe, and followed slowly in his father's wake. Wiser, and wider, and -brighter men might be found betwixt every two lamp-posts, but few more -simple, soft, and gentle than this honest lawyer's son. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. - -THE MOTIVE. - - -Perfectly free from all suspicions, and as happy as he deserved to be, -Mr. Sharp leaned back in his easy chair, after making an excellent -supper, and gazed with complacency at his good wife. He was really -glad to be at home again, and to find his admiring household safe, and -to rest for a while with a quiet brain, as the lord and master of -everything. Christopher had been sent to bed, as if he were only ten -years old; for instead of exhibiting the proper joy, he had behaved in -a very strange and absent manner; and his father, who delighted much -in snubbing him sometimes, had requested him to seek his pillow. Kit -had accepted this proposal very gladly, longing as he did to think -over by himself that strange adventure of the evening. - -"Now, darling Luke," began Mrs. Sharp, as soon as she had made her -husband quite snug, and provided him with a glass of negus, "you -really must be amazed at my unparalleled patience and self-control. -You ran away suddenly at the very crisis of a most interesting and -momentous tale. And from that day to this I have not had one word; and -how to behave to Kit has been a riddle beyond riddles. How I have seen -to the dinner--I am sure--and of sleep I have scarcely had fifty -winks, between my anxiety about you, and misery at not knowing how the -story ended." - -"Very well, Miranda, I will tell you all the rest; together with the -postscript added since I went to London. Only you must stay up very -late, I fear, to get to the proper end of it." - -"I will stay till the cocks crow. At least, I mean, dear, if, after -your long journey, you are really fit for it. If not, I will wait till -to-morrow, dear." - -Mr. Sharp was touched by his wife's consideration for him. He loved -her more than he loved any one else in the world, except himself; and -though (like many other clear-headed men) he had small faith in brains -feminine, he was not quite certain that he might not get some useful -idea out of them when the matter at issue was feminine. - -"I am ready, if you are, my dear," he said, for he hated to beat about -the bush. "Only I must know where I left off. With all I have done -since, I quite forget." - -"You left off just when you had discovered the real man who was called -'Jolly Fellows;' the man Cousin Fermitage left his will with." - -"To be sure! Or at least, it was a codicil. Very well, I found him in -the wine-vaults of the company, where they have been for generations. -He was going round with some large and good customer, such as old -Fermitage himself had been. Senhor Gelofilos had a link in one hand, -and in the other a deep dock-glass, while a man in his shadow bore a -flashing gimlet and a long-armed siphon-tap. From cell to cell, and -pipe to pipe, they were going in regular order, showing brands, -_ex_ this, and _ex_ that, and making little taps and trying them. - -"I was admitted, without a word, as one of this solemn procession, -being taken for a member of the sacred trade; and the number of sips -of wine I got, and the importance attached to my opinion, would have -made you laugh, Miranda. At length I got a chance of speaking alone to -Senhor Gelofilos, a tall, dark, gentlemanly man, of grave and -dignified manner. He at once remembered that he had received a paper -from Mr. Fermitage; of its nature however he knew nothing, not being -acquainted with our legal forms. He had kept it ever since in a box at -his house, and if I could call upon him after office hours, he would -show it to me with pleasure. Accordingly, I took a hackney-coach to -his house near Hampstead in the evening, and found that old -'Port-wine' had not deceived me during our last interview. - -"I held in my hand a most important codicil to the old man's will, -duly executed and attested, so far at least as could be decided -without inquiry. By this codicil he revoked his will thus far, that, -instead of leaving the residue, after payment of legacies, to his -widow absolutely, he left her a life-interest in that residue, after -bequeathing the sum of £20,000, duty free, to his niece, Grace -Oglander." - -"Out of my money, Luke!" cried Mrs. Sharp indignantly. "Twenty -thousand pounds out of my money! And what niece of his was she, I -should like to know? Was there nothing whatever for his own flesh and -blood?" - -"Nothing whatever," answered Mr. Sharp calmly. "But wait a bit, -Miranda, wait. Well, all the residue of his estate, after the decease -of his said wife, Joan, was by this codicil absolutely given to his -said niece Grace. He said that they both would know why he had made -the change. And then the rest of his will was confirmed, as usual." - -"I never heard such a thing! I never heard such robbery!" exclaimed -Mrs. Sharp, with a panting breast. "I hope you will contest it all, my -dear. If there is law in the land, you cannot fail to upset such a -vile, vile will! You can show that the fungus got into his brain." - -"My dear, it is my object to establish that will, or the codicil -rather, which I thus discovered. I am obliged to proceed very -carefully, of course; a rash step would ruin everything. Unluckily the -executors remain as before, though he would not trust them with the -codicil. Well, one of them, as you know, bought such a lot of port, -half-price, at his testator's sale, that in three months he required -an executor for himself. The other took warning by his fate, and is -going in for claret and the sour Rhenish wines. This has made him as -surly as a bear, and he is a most difficult man to manage. But if any -one can handle him, I can; and he has a deadly quarrel with that -haughty Joan. I had first ascertained, without any stir, that the -attestation is quite correct--two stupid bottle-men, who gave no -thought to what they were doing, but can swear to the signing; and the -codicil itself, though 'Port-wine' drew it without any lawyer, is -quite clear and good. At the proper moment I produce the codicil, -account for my possession of it, go to Mr. Wigginton, and make him -prove it; and then, I think, we turn the tables on the proud old -widow." - -"Oh, Luke, what a blessed day that would be for me! The things I have -endured from that odious woman! Of course, it will mortify her not to -have disposal, and to have to give up £20,000--the miser, the screw, -the Expositor hypocrite! The filthy silk stockings I should be ashamed -to own! But, darling Luke, I do not see how we ourselves are a bit the -better off for it. Poor Grace being dead, of course her father takes -the money." - -"Suppose, for a moment that, instead of being dead, Grace Oglander is -the wedded wife, by that time, of a certain Christopher Fermitage -Sharp, and without any settlement!" - -"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Sharp, jumping with astonishment. "Is it -possible? Is it possible?" - -"It is more than possible, it is probable; and without some very bad -luck, it is certain!" - -"Oh, you darling love!" she very nearly shouted, giving him a hug with -her plump white arms. "Oh, Luke, Luke, it is the noblest thing I ever -heard! And she is such a nice girl, too, so sweet, and clever, and -superior! The very daughter I would have chosen out of fifty thousand! -And with all that money at her back! Why, we can retire, and set up a -green barouche! I shall have it lined with the new agate colour, -trimmed with deep puce, like the Marchioness of Marston's--that is, if -you approve, of course, my dear. And a pair of iron-greys always go -the best with that. But, Luke, you will laugh at me for being in a -hurry. There is plenty of time, dear, is there not?--though they do -say that carriage-builders are so slow. But they think so much of -their old family, my dear. I know how very wonderfully managing you -are, and as clever as can be consistent with the highest principle. -But do tell me, how you have contrived all this so well, and never -even let me guess a single whisper of it." - -"It has required some tact and skill," Mr. Sharp replied, with a -twinkle in his eyes, and taking a good pull at his port-wine negus; -"and even more than that, Miranda, without a bold stroke it could -never have been done. I staked almost everything upon the die; not -quite everything, for I made all arrangements if we should have to -fly." - -"Fly, my dear!" cried Mrs. Sharp, looking up with a very different -face. "What do you mean, Luke? To have to run away!" - -"Quite so. There is no great stroke without great miss. And if I had -missed, we must all have bolted suddenly." - -"The Lord forbid! Run away in disgrace from my father's own house, and -the whole world that knows us! I never could have tried to go through -such a trial." - -"Yes, my dear Miranda, it might have come to that. And you would have -gone through the whole of it, without a single murmur." - -"Luke, I positively tremble at you!" the good woman answered, as her -eyes fell under his. "How stern you can look when you want to scare -me!" - -"Miranda, I tell you the simple truth. We must all have been in France -within twelve hours if, if--well, never mind. Nothing venture nothing -win. But happily we have won, I believe; though we must not be too -sure as yet. We have justice on our side; but justice does not always -prevail against petty facts. And public opinion would set against us -with great ferocity, if we failed. If we succeed, all men will praise -us as soon as we begin to spend our money, and exert it near home at -the outset. Everything depends upon success; of course, it always does -in everything." - -"My dear, it is not fair of you to talk like that," Mrs. Sharp -answered, with tears in her eyes; for, in all her kind and ungirt -nature, there was no entry for cynicism; "you must feel that I would -hold by you always, whatever all the world might have the impudence to -say, dear." - -"Beyond a doubt you would. You could do no otherwise. But that might -be of very little use. I mean, that it would be the very greatest -prop, and comfort, and blessing, and support in every way, and would -keep up one's faith, to some extent, in human nature, and divine -assistance--but still, if we had to live on three pound ten a week! -However, we will not anticipate the worst. You would like to know how -the whole thing stands now?" - -Mrs. Luke Sharp, although not very clever, and wholly incapable of any -plot herself (beyond such little stratagems as ladies do concoct, for -fetching down the price of rep, or getting gloves at a quarter of -their cost), nevertheless had her share of common sense, and that -which generally goes therewith--respect for the opinion of good -people. She knew that her husband was a very bold man, as well as a -very strong-willed one; he had often done things which she had thought -too daring; and yet they had always turned out well. But what he had -now in hand was, even according to his own account, the most risky and -perilous venture yet; and though (like the partner of a gambler) she -warmed up to back his hand, and cheer him, and let her heart go with -him, in her wiser mind she had shivers, and shudders, and a chill -shadow of the end of it. - -Mr. Sharp saw that his wife was timid; which of all things would be -fatal now; for her aid was indispensable. Otherwise, perhaps, he would -not have been quite so ready to tell her everything. He had put things -so that her dislikes and envies, as well as her likings, and loves, -and ambitions would compel her to work with him. If she were lukewarm -his whole scheme must fail. At the mere idea his temper stirred. "Will -you hear the rest? Or is your mind upset?" he asked a little roughly. -His wife looked up brightly from some little blink of thought. "Every -word of it now, I must hear every word, if you will be so kind, my -dear. I will go and see that all the doors are shut." - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - -THE MANNER. - - -"You see now, Miranda," continued Mr. Sharp, as his wife came and sat -quite close to him, "that it was my duty to make the most of the -knowledge thus providentially obtained. We had met with a bitter -disappointment through the most gross injustice, brought about, no -doubt, by craft, and wheedling, and black falsehood. When old -Fermitage stood godfather to our only child, and showed a sense of -duty towards him by bottling and walling up a pipe of wine, everybody -looked upon Kit as certain to stand in his shoes in the course of -time. You know how we always looked forward to it, not covetously or -improperly, but simply as a matter of justice. And you remember what -he said to me, before he went to church with Joan Oglander: 'Quibbles, -my boy, this shall make no difference between you and me, mind!' - -"I am sure that he meant it when he said it; but that artful woman so -led him astray, and laid down the law about wives and husbands, and -'county families,' and all that, and pouring contempt upon our -profession, that all his better feelings left him, and he made the -will he did. And but for her low, unwomanly cowardice during his last -illness, so it would have stood--as she believes it even now to -stand." - -"Oh, what a pure delight it will be," cried the lady, unable to help -herself, "such a triumph of right over might and falsehood! Do let me -be there to see it." - -"There is time enough to think of that, Miranda. Well, as soon as ever -I felt quite sure of my ground about the codicil (which Senhor -Gelofilos placed in my hands after making inquiry about me here, and -being satisfied of my relationship and respectability), I began to -cast about for the most effectual mode of working it. It was clear in -a moment that the right course was to make a match between Grace, now -the legal heiress, and Kit, the legitimate heir. But here I was met by -difficulties which appeared at first sight insuperable. The pride of -the old Squire, and his family nonsense, the suit of Russel Overshute, -and the girl's own liking for that young fellow (which I had some -reason to suspect), the impossibility of getting at the girl, and last -not least the stupid shyness of our Christopher himself; these and -other obstacles compelled me to knock them all out of the way, by some -decisive action. The girl must be taken out of stupid people's power, -and brought to know what was good for her. - -"Of course, I might have cut the matter short by walking the girl off, -and allowing her no food until she consented to marry Kit; and -probably if I could only have foreseen my sad anxieties and heavy -outlay, I should have acted in that way. But I have a natural dislike -to measures that wear an appearance of harshness; and I could not tell -how Kit might take it, or even you, Miranda dear. In this sad puzzle, -some good inspiration brought to my mind Hannah Patch, then living by -herself in London. In a sort of a manner she is my sister (as I have -told you long ago), although she is so many years my elder." - -Mrs. Sharp nodded; she knew all about it and admired her husband none -the less for being the illegitimate son of the fashionable Captain -Patch. - -"Very well," this admirable man resumed, "you are aware that Hannah -looked very coldly upon me, and spoke of me always as 'that child of -sin,' until I was enabled to marry you, my dear, through your -disinterested affection, which is my choicest treasure. Having won -that, and another more lucrative (but less delightful) partnership, I -became to sweet Hannah the child of love, and was immediately allowed -the privilege of doing all her legal business gratis. You have often -grumbled at that, but I had some knowledge of what I was about, my -dear, and I soon obtained that due influence over her which all women -ought to have some man to wield. Setting aside her present use, Hannah -Patch has £200 a year of her own, which might be much better invested, -and shall be, as soon as it comes to us; but it would not do to have -her too set up herself." - -"Oh Luke, what a large-minded dear you are!" whispered Mrs. Sharp, -with much enthusiasm; "I do believe nothing escapes you, and nothing -that gets into your hand ever does get out again!" - -"Well, I am pretty well for that," he answered, looking at his large, -strong palm; "I began with my hands pretty empty, God knows, and only -my own brain to fill them. But perseverance, integrity, and readiness -to oblige, have brought me on; and above all things, Miranda, the -grace that I found in your kind eyes." - -The kind and still pretty eyes looked prettier, and almost young, with -the gleam of tears; while the owner of all this integrity proved that -it had stood him in good stead, by drawing from his pocket, and -spreading on his head, a handkerchief which had cost him yesterday -fourteen and sixpence, in Holborn, ready hemmed. - -"Yes," he continued with a very honest smile; "you see me as I am, my -dear; and there are many poor people in the world worse off. Still it -would never do for me to stop. One must be either backward or forward, -always; and I prefer to be forward. And I hope to make a great step -now. But there must be no hesitation. Well, to go on with my story, I -saw how useful Miss Patch might be to us. She has strong religious -views, which always make it so easy to guide any one aright, by giving -the proper turn to things. Pugnacious dread of Popery, and valiant -terror of the Jesuits, are the leading-strings of her poor old mind. I -got firm hold of both of these, and being trustee of her money also, I -found her quite ready to do good deeds. - -"I allowed her to perceive that if things went on, without our -interference, Grace Oglander would be married, and her enormous -fortune sacrificed, to a man whose bosom friend is a Jesuit, a fierce -wolf in sheep's clothing--an uncommonly clever fellow by the bye--a -very young tutor of Brasenose. She had heard of him; for his name is -well known among the leaders of this new sect, who call themselves -Anglo-Catholics, and will end by being Roman Catholics. Of these good -men (according to their lights) Hannah Patch has even deeper terror -than of downright Jesuits. Naturally such stuff matters not to me; -except when I can work it." - -"Hannah Patch also had a special grudge against old Squire Oglander, a -man very well in his way, and very honest, who thinks a great deal of -his own opinions, and is fit to be his own grandfather. He had no love -at all for the Patch connection--the patch on the family, as he called -it--and the marriage of his stepmother with Captain Patch, and the -Captain's patronising air towards him--in a word, Miranda, he hated -them all. - -"However, when Hannah was in trouble once or twice, and without a roof -to shelter her--before she got her present bit of cash--old Oglander -had her down, and was very good, and tried to like her. He put his -child under her care to learn 'theology,' as she called it, and he -paid her well for teaching her the Psalms, and the other -denunciations. They went away together to some very lonely place; -while the Squire was a week or two away from home. And now it occurred -to me that this experience might be repeated, and prolonged if -needful. Oglander had been nervous, as I knew, and as his daughter -also knew, about some form of black fever or something, which had been -killing some gipsy people, and was likely to come into the villages. I -made use of this fact, with Hannah Patch to help me, and quietly took -my young heiress off to a snug little home in the thick of the woods, -where I should be sorry to reside myself. She was under the holy wing -of Miss Patch; and there she abides to this present day; and I feed -them very well, I assure you. They cost me four pound ten a week; for -the evangelical Hannah believes it to be the clearest 'mark of the -beast' to eat meat less than twice a day; and Leviticus Cripps, who -supplies all the victuals, is making a fortune out of me. No bigger -rogue ever lived than that fellow. He is under my thumb so entirely -that if I told him to roll in the mud he would roll. And yet with all -his awe of me, he cannot forbear from cheating me. He has found out a -manner of dipping his pork so that he turns it into beef or mutton, -according to the orders from the cottage; and he charges me butcher's -price for it, and cartage for six miles and a half, and a penny a -pound for trimming off the flanks!" - -"My dear!" said Mrs. Sharp, "it is impossible! He never could deceive a -woman so, however devoted her mind might be. The grain of the meat is -quite different, and the formation of the bones not at all alike; and -directly it began to roast----" - -"Well, never mind, Miranda, there they are quite reconciled to the -situation; except that Hannah Patch is always hankering after 'the -means of grace,' and the young girl mooning about her sweet old parent -and beloved Beckley. Sometimes there are very fine scenes between -them; but upon the whole they get on well together, and appreciate one -another's virtues. And I heartily trust that the merits of our Kit -have made their impression on a sensitive young heart. They took to -one another quite kindly in the romance of the situation, when I -brought their sweet innocence into contact by a very simple stratagem. -The dear young creatures have believed themselves to be outwitting -everybody; the very thing I laboured for them both to do. All's well -that ends well--don't you think, Miranda?" - -"I am so entirely lost--I mean I am so unable to think it all out, -without more time being given me," Mrs. Sharp answered, while she -passed her hand across her unwrinkled forehead, and into her generally -consulted curl, "that really, Luke, for the moment I can only admire -your audacity. But I think, dear, that in a matter of this kind--an -especially feminine province, I may say--you might have done me the -honour of consulting me." - -"Miranda, it was not to be thought of. Your health and well-being are -the dearest objects of my life. I will only ask, could you have borne -the suspense, and the worry, and anxiety of the last four months; -above all, the necessity for silence?" - -"Yes, Luke, I could have been very silent; but I cannot abide anxiety. -You call me a dear fat soul sometimes, and your judgment is always -correct, my dear. At the same time, I have little views of my own, and -sensible ways of regarding things. You would like to hear my opinion, -Luke, and to answer me one or two questions?" - -"Certainly, Miranda; beyond all doubt. For what other purpose do I -tell you all? Now, let me have a nap for five minutes, my dear, while -you ponder this subject and arrange your questions." - -He threw his smart handkerchief over his head, stretched out his feet, -and took a nice little doze. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV. - -THE POSITION. - - -"Among my relations," said Mrs. Sharp, reclining, for fear of -asserting herself, as soon as her lord looked up again. "I have always -been thought to possess a certain amount of stupid common sense. -Nothing of depth, or grand stratagems, I mean, but a way of being -right nearly nine times out of ten. And I think that this feeling is -coming over me, just now." - -"My dear, if it is so, do relieve yourself. Do not consider my ideas -for a moment, but let me know what your own are." - -"Luke, how you love to ridicule me! Well, if my opinion is of no -account, I can only ask questions, as you tell me. In the first place, -how did you get the girl away?" - -"Most easily; under her father's orders. Hannah can write the old -gentleman's hand to any extent, and his style as well. For the glory -of the Lord she did so." - -"And how did you bring her to do such shocking things? She must have -had a strong idea that they were not honest." - -"Far otherwise. She took an enthusiastic view of the matter from the -very first. I made it quite clear to her how much there was at stake; -and the hardest job for a long time was to prevent her from being too -zealous. She scorns to take anything for herself, unless it can be put -religiously. And for a long time I was quite afraid that I could not -get a metal band on her. But she found out, before it was quite too -late, that the mission of the "Brotherly-love-abounders," upon the -west coast of Africa, had had all their missionaries eaten up, and -required a round sum to replace them. I promised her £5000 for that, -when her own mission ends in glory." - -"Then you are quite certain to have her tight. I might trust you for -every precaution, Luke. But how have you managed to keep them so -quiet, while the neighbourhood was alive with it? And in what corner -of the world have you got them? And who was the poor girl that really -did die?" - -"One question at a time, if you please, Miranda, though they all hang -pretty much upon one hook. I have kept them so quiet, because they are -in a corner of a world where no one goes; in a lonely cottage at the -furthest extremity of the old Stow Wood, where their nearest road is a -timber-track three-quarters of a mile away. They are waited on by a -deaf old woman, who believes them to be Americans, which accounts to -her mind for any oddness. Their washing is done at home, and all their -food is procured through Cripps the swine-herd, whose forest farm lies -well away, so that none of his children go to them. Cripps is indebted -to me, and I hold a mortgage of every rod of his land, and a bill of -sale of his furniture and stock. He dare not play traitor and claim -the reward, or I should throw him into prison for forgery, upon a -little transaction of some time back. Moreover, he has no motive; for -I have promised him the same sum, and his bill of sale cancelled, when -the wedding is happily celebrated. Meanwhile he is making fine -pickings out of me, and he caters at a profit of cent. per cent. There -is nobody else who knows anything about it, except a pair of gipsy -fellows, too wide awake to come near the law for any amount of -guineas. One of them is old Kershoe, the celebrated horse-stealer, -whom I employed to drive and horse the needful vehicle from London. He -knew where to get his horses without any postmaster being the wiser, -and his vehicle was a very tidy carriage, bought by the gipsies for a -dwelling-place, and furbished up so that the chaises of the age are -not to be compared with it. The inquiries made at all livery-stables, -and posting-houses, and so on, by order of Overshute and the good -Squire, and some of them through my own agency, have afforded me -genial pleasure and some little share of profit." - -"Really, my dear," said Mrs. Sharp; "you were scarcely right in -charging for them. You should have remembered that you knew all about -it." - -"That was exactly what I did, my dear; and I felt how expensive that -knowledge was. As a little set-off against the pig-master's bills, I -made heavy entries against the good Squire. The fault is his own. He -should not have driven me into costly proceedings by that lowest of -all things the arrogance of birth. Well, the other gipsy man is no -other than Joe Smith, who jumped the broomstick with the lovely -Princess Cinnaminta. You must have heard of her, Miranda. Half the -ladies in Oxford were most bitterly jealous of her, some years back." - -"I am sure then that I never was, Mr. Sharp!--a poor creature sitting -under sacks, and doing juggling!" - -"Nothing of the kind. You never saw her. She is a woman of superior -mind and most refined appearance. Indeed, her eyes are such as -never----" - -"Oh, that is where you have been, Luke, is it, while we have been here -for a fortnight, trembling----" - -"Nonsense, Miranda; don't be so absurd. The poor thing has just lost -her only child, and I believe she will go mad with it. It was her -pretty sister, young Khebyra, who died of collapse, and was buried the -same night. This case was most extraordinary. The fever struck her, -without any illness, just as the plague and the cholera have done, -with a headlong, concentrated leap; as a thunderstorm gathers itself -sometimes into one blue ball of lightning. She was laughing at ten -o'clock, and her poor young jaw tied up at noon; and a great panic -burst among them." - -"Luke!" exclaimed Mrs. Sharp, strongly shuddering; "you never mean to -say that you came home to me, from being among such people, without a -change of clothes, or anything!" - -"How could I come home without anything, my dear? But I was not -'among' them at all that day, nor at any other period. I never go to -work in that coarse sort of way. Familiarity begets contempt. However, -I was soon informed of this most sad occurrence; and for a while it -quite upset me, coming as it did at such a very busy time. However, -when I had time to dwell more calmly on the subject, I began to see a -chance of turning this keen blow to my benefit. - -"The gipsy camp was broken up with fatalistic terror--the most abject -of all terrors; as the courage of the fatalist is the fiercest of all -courage. They carried off their Royal stock, the heiress of the gipsy -throne--as soon as some fine thief is hanged--quite as the bees are -said to carry off their queen, when a hornet comes. Poor Cinnaminta -was caught away just when I might have made her useful; and only two -men were left to attend to the burial of her sister. Of these, my -friend Joseph Smith was one, as he ought to be, being Cinnaminta's -spouse. - -"It was a very active time for me, I assure you, Miranda dear. The -complication was almost too much to be settled in so short a time. And -some of my hair, which had been quite strong, was lying quite flat in -the morning. Perhaps you remember telling me." - -"Yes, that I do, Luke! I could not make it out. Your hair had always -stood so well; and a far better colour than the young men have got! -And you told me that it was gone like that from taking Cockle's -antibilious pills!" - -"Miranda, I have never deceived you. I did take a couple, and they -helped me on. But, without attributing too much to them, I did make a -lucky turn of it. Their manner of sepulture is brief and wise; or, at -any rate, that of this tribe is; though they differ, I believe, very -widely. These wait till they are sure that the sun has set, and then -they begin to excavate. I was able to suggest that, in this great -hurry and scattering of the tribes of Israel, the wisest plan would be -to adopt and adapt a very quiet corner already hollowed, and indicated -by name (which is so much more abiding than substance) as a legendary -gipsy Aceldama. The idea was caught at, as it well deserved to be, in -the panic, and lack of time, and terror of the poor dead body. The -poor thing was buried there with very hasty movements, her sister and -the rest being hurried away; and it is quite remarkable how this (the -merest episode) has, by the turn of events, assumed a primary -importance. - -"Foresight, and insight, and second-sight almost, would be attributed -to me by any one who did not know the facts. Scarcely anybody would -believe, as this thing worked in my favour so much, that I can -scarcely claim the invention, any more than I can take any credit for -the weather. Indeed, I may say, without the smallest presumption or -profanity, that something higher than mere fortune has favoured my -plans from the very first. I had provided for at least one whole day's -start, before any alarm should be given; but the weather secured me, I -may say, six weeks, before anything could be done in earnest, And then -the discovery of that body, by a girl who was frightened into fits -almost, and its tardy disinterment, and the universal conclusion about -it, which I perhaps helped in some measure to shape, also the illness -with which it pleased Providence to visit Messrs. Oglander and -Overshute--I really feel that I have the deepest cause to be grateful, -and I trust that I am so." - -"Certainly, my dear, your cause is just," said Mrs. Sharp, as her -husband showed some symptoms of dropping off to sleep again; "but in -carrying it out you have inflicted pain and sad, sad anxiety on a poor -old man. Can he ever forgive you, or make it up?" - -"I should hope for his own sake," replied the lawyer, "that he will -cast away narrow-mindedness; otherwise we shall not permit him to rush -into the embraces of his daughter. But if he proves relentless, it -matters little, except for the opinion of the world. He cannot touch -'Portwine's' property at all; and he may do what he likes with his own -little wealth. His outside value is some £40,000. However, if I -understand him aright, we shall manage to secure his money too, tied -up, I dare say--but what matters that? He is a most fond papa, and his -joy will soon wash away all evil thoughts." - -"How delightful it will be!" cried the lady, with a sigh, "to restore -his long-lost child to him. Still it will be a most delicate task. You -must leave all that to me, Luke." - -"With pleasure, my dear Miranda; your kind heart quite adapts you for -such a melting scene. And, indeed, I would rather be out of the way. -But I want your help for more than that." - -"You shall have it, Luke, with all my heart and soul! It is too late -now to draw back; though, if you had asked my advice, I would have -tried to stop you. But just one question more--how did you get rid of -John Smith and his inquiries? They say that he is such a very shrewd -man." - -"Do you not know, will nobody ever know, the difference between small, -uneducated cunning and the clear intelligence of a practised mind? To -suppose that John Smith would ever give me any trouble! He has been -most useful. I directed his inquiries; and exhausted the inquisitive -spirit through him." - -"But you did not let him know----" - -"Miranda, now, I shall go to bed, if I am so very fast asleep. Can no -woman ever dream of large utility? I have had no better friend, -throughout this long anxiety, than John Smith. And without the -expenditure of one farthing, I have guided him into the course that he -should take. When he hears of anything, the first thing he asks -is--'Now, what would Lawyer Sharp be inclined to think of this?' -Perhaps I have taken more trouble than was needful. But, at any rate, -it would be disgraceful indeed if John Smith could cause me -uneasiness. The only man I have ever had the smallest fear of has been -Russel Overshute. Not that the young fellow is at all acute; but that -he cannot be by any means imbued with the proper respect for my -character." - -"How very shocking of him, my dear Luke, when your character has been -so many years established!" - -"Miranda, it is indeed shocking!--but what can be expected of a -Radical? Ever since that villainous Reform Bill passed, the spirit of -true reverence is destroyed. But he must have some respect for me, as -soon as he knows all. Although, to confess the pure truth, my dear, -things have worked in my favour so, that I scarcely deserve any credit -at all, except for the original conception. That, however, was a brave -one." - -"It was, indeed; and I am scarcely brave enough to be comfortable. -There is never any knowing how the world may take things. It is true -that old Fermitage was not your client, and you had been very badly -treated, and had a right to make the most of any knowledge obtained by -accident. But old Mr. Oglander is your client, and has trusted you -even in the present matter. I do not think that my father would have -considered it quite professional to behave so." - -Mrs. Luke Sharp was alarmed at her own boldness in making such a -speech as this. She dropped her eyes under her husband's gaze; but he -took her remarks quite calmly. - -"My dear, we will talk of that another time. The fact that I do a -thing--after all my experience--should prove it to be not -unprofessional. At the present moment, I want to go to bed; and if you -are anxious to begin hair-splitting, bed is my immediate refuge. But -if you wish to know about the future of your son, you must listen, and -not try to reason." - -"I did not mean to vex you, Luke. I might have been certain that you -knew best. And you always have so many things behind, that Solomon -himself could never judge you. Tell me all about my darling Kit, and I -will not even dare to cough or breathe." - -"My dear, it would grieve me to hear you cough, and break my heart if -you did not breathe. But I fear that your Kit is unworthy of your -sighs. He has lost his young heart beyond redemption, without having -the manners to tell his mother!" - -"They all do it, Luke; of course they do. It is no good to find fault -with them. I have been expecting that sort of thing so long. And when -he went to Spiers for the melanochaitotrophe, with the yellow stopper -to it, I knew as well as possible what he was about. I knew that his -precious young heart must be gone; for it cost him seven and -sixpence!" - -"Yes, my dear; and it went the right way, in the very line I had laid -for it. I will tell you another time how I managed that, with Hannah -Patch, of course, to help me. The poor boy was conquered at first -sight; for the weather was cold, with snow still in the ditches, and I -gave him sixpenny-worth of brandy-balls. So Kit went shooting, and got -shot, according to my arrangement. Ever since that, the great job has -been to temper and guide his rampant energies." - -"And of course he knows nothing--oh no, he would be so very unworthy, -if he did! Oh, do say that he knows nothing, Luke!" - -"My dear, I can give you that pleasing assurance; although it is a -puzzling one to me. Christopher Fermitage Sharp knows not Grace -Oglander from the young woman in the moon. He believes her to have -sailed from a new and better world. Undoubtedly he is my son, Miranda; -yet where did he get his thick-headedness?" - -"Mr. Sharp!" - -"Miranda, make allowance for me. Such things are truly puzzling. -However, you perceive the situation. Here is a very fine young -fellow--in his mother's opinion and his own--desperately smitten with -a girl unknown, and romantically situated in a wood. There is reason -to believe that this young lady is not insensible to his merits; he -looks very nice in his sporting costume, he has no one to compete with -him, he is her only bit of life for the day, he leaves her now and -then a romantic rabbit, and he rescues her from a ruffian. But here -the true difficulty begins. We cannot well unite them in the holy -bonds, without a clear knowledge on the part of either of the true -patronymic of the other. The heroine knows that the hero rejoices in -the good and useful name of 'Sharp'; but he knows not that his -lady-love is one Grace Oglander of Beckley Barton. - -"Here, again, you perceive a fine stroke of justice. If Squire -Oglander had only extended his hospitalities to us, Christopher must -have known Grace quite well, and I could not have brought them -together so. At present he believes her to be a Miss Holland, from the -United States of America; and as she has promised Miss Patch not to -speak of her own affairs to anybody (according to her father's wish, -in one of the Demerara letters), that idea of his might still -continue; although she has begun to ask him questions, which are not -at all convenient. But things must be brought to a point as soon as -possible. Having the advantage of directing the inquiries, or at any -rate being consulted about them, I see no great element of danger yet; -and of course I launched all the first expeditions in every direction -but the right one. That setting up of the tombstone by poor old Joan -was a very heavy blow to the inquisitive." - -"But, my dear, that did not make the poor girl dead a bit more than -she was dead before." - -"Miranda, you do not understand the world. The evidence of a tombstone -is the strongest there can be, and beats that of fifty living -witnesses. I won a most difficult case for our firm when I was an -ardent youth, and the victory enabled me to aspire to your hand, by -taking a mallet and a chisel, and a little nitric acid, and converting -a 'Francis,' by moonlight, into a 'Frances.' I kept the matter to -myself, of course; for your good father was a squeamish hand. But you -have heard me speak of it." - -"Yes, but I thought it so wrong, my dear, even though, as you said, -truth required it." - -"Truth did require it. The old stonemason had not known how to spell -the word. I corrected his heterography; and we confounded the tricks -of the evil ones. All is fair in love and law, so long as violence is -done to neither. And now I wish Kit's unsophisticated mind to be led -to the perception of that great truth. It is needful for him to be -delicately admitted to a knowledge of my intentions. There is nobody -who can do this as you can. He takes rather clumsy and obstinate views -of things he is too young to understand. The main point of all, with a -mind like his, is to dwell upon the justice of our case and the depth -of our affection, which has led to such a sacrifice of the common -conventional view of things." - -"My dear, but I have had nothing to do with it. Conception, plan, and -execution are all your own, and no other person's. Why, I had not even -dreamed----" - -"Still, you must put it to him, Miranda, as if it was your doing more -than mine. He has more faith in your--well, what shall I call it? I -would not for a moment wrong him by supposing that he doubts his own -father's integrity--in your practical judgment, let us say, and -perception of the nicest principles. It is absolutely necessary that -you should appear to have acted throughout in close unison with me. In -fact, it would be better to let the boy perceive that the whole idea -from the very first was yours; as in simple fact it must have been, if -circumstances had permitted me to tell you all that I desired. To any -idea of yours he takes more kindly perhaps than to those which are -mine. This is not quite correct, some would say; but I am above -jealousy. I always desire that he should love his mother, and make a -pattern of her. His poor father gets knocked about here and there, and -cannot halt to keep himself rigidly upright, though it always is his -ambition. But women are so different, and so much better. Even Kit -perceives that truth. Let him know, my darling, that your peace of -mind is entirely staked upon his following out the plan which you mean -to propose to him." - -"But, my dear Luke, I have not the least notion of any plan of any -sort." - -"Never mind, Miranda; make him promise. I will tell you all about it -afterwards. It is better not to let him know too much. Knowledge -should come in small doses always, otherwise it puffs up young people. -Alas! now I feel that I am not as I was! Twenty years ago I could have -sat up all night talking, and not shown a sign of it next day. I have -not had any sleep for the last twelve nights. Do you see any rays in -my eyes, dear wife? They are sure indications of heart disease. When I -am tired they always come." - -"Oh, Luke, Luke, you will break my heart! You shall not say another -word. Have some more negus--I insist upon it! It is no good to put -your hand over the glass--and then come to bed immediately. You are -working too hard for your family, my pet." - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI. - -IN THE MESHES. - - -Now being newly inspired by that warm theologian--as Miss Patch really -believed him to be--Luke Sharp, the lady felt capable of a bold -stroke, which her conscience had seemed to cry out against, till -loftier thoughts enlarged it. She delivered to her dear niece a -letter, written in pale ink and upon strange paper, which she drew -from a thicker one addressed to herself, and received "through their -butcher" from a post-office. Wondering who their butcher was, but -delighted to get her dear father's letter, Grace ran away to devour -it. - -It was dated from George-town, English Guayana, and though full of -affection, showed touching traces of delicate health and despondency. -The poor girl wiped her eyes at her father's tender longing to see her -once more, and his earnest prayers for every blessing upon their -invaluable friend, Miss Patch. Then he spoke of himself in a manner -which made it impossible for her to keep her eyes wiped, so deep was -his sadness, and yet so heroically did he attempt to conceal it from -her; and then came a few lines, which surprised her greatly. He said -that a little bird had told him that during her strict retirement from -the world in accordance with his wishes, she had learned to esteem a -most worthy young man, for whom he had always felt warm regard, and, -he might even say, affection. He doubted whether, at his own time of -life, and with this strange languor creeping over him, he could ever -bear the voyage to England, unless his little darling would come over -to fetch him, or at least to behold him once more alive; and if she -would do so, she must indeed be quick. He need not say that to dream -of her travelling so far all alone was impossible; but if, for the -sake of her father, she could dispense with some old formalities, and -speedily carry out their mutual choice, he might with his whole heart -appeal to her husband to bring her out by the next packet. - -He said little more, except that he had learned by the bitter teaching -of adversity who were his true friends, and who were false. No one had -shown any truth and reality except Mr. Sharp of Oxford; but he never -could have dreamed, till it came to the test, that even the lowest of -the low would treat him as young Mr. Overshute had done. That subject -was too painful, so he ended with another adjuration to his daughter. - -"Aunty, I have had the most extraordinary letter," cried Grace, coming -in with her eyes quite dreadful; "it astonishes me beyond everything. -May I see the postmark of yours which it came in? I shall think I am -dreaming till I see the postmark." - -"The stamp of the office, do you mean, my dear? Oh yes, you are -welcome to see, Grace. Here it is, 'George-town, Demerara.' The date -is not quite clear without my spectacles. Those foreign dies are -always cut so badly." - -"Never mind the date, aunt. I have the date inside, in my dear -father's writing. But I am quite astonished how my father can have -heard----" - -"Something about you, sly little puss! You need not blush so, for I -long have guessed it." - -"But indeed it is not true--indeed it is not. I may have been amused, -but I never, never--and oh, what he says then of somebody else--such a -thing I should have thought impossible! How can one have any faith in -any one?" - -"My dear child, what you mean is this: How can one have any faith in -worldly and ungodly people? With their mouths they speak deceit; the -poison of asps is under their lips----" - -"Oh no, he never was ungodly; to see him walk would show you that; and -if being good to the poor sick people, and dashing into the middle of -the whooping-cough----" - -"How am I to know of whom you speak? You appear to have acted in a -very forward way with some one your father disapproves of." - -"I assure you, I never did anything of the kind. It is not at all my -manner. I thought you considered it wrong to make unfounded -accusations." - -"Grace, what a most un-Christian temper you still continue to display -at times! Your cheeks are quite red, and your eyes excited, in a way -very sad to witness. The trouble I have taken is beyond all knowledge. -If you do not value it, your father does." - -"Aunty Patch, may I see exactly what my daddy says to you? I will show -you mine if you will show me yours." - -"My dear, you seem to forget continually. You treat me as if I were of -your own age, and had never been through the very first alarm which -comes for our salvation. It has not come to you, or you could not be -so frivolous and worldly as you are. When first it rang, even for -myself----" - -"How many times does it ring, Aunt? I mean for every individual -sinner, as you always call us." - -"My dear, it rings three times, as has been proved by the most -inspired of all modern preachers, the Rev. Wm. Romaine, while -amplifying the blessed words of the pious Joseph Alleine. He begins -his discourse upon it thus----" - -"Aunty, you have told me that so many times that I could go up into -his desk and do it. It is all so very good and superior; but there are -times when it will not come. You, or at any rate I, for certain, may -go down on our knees and pray, and nothing ever comes of it. I have -been at it every night and morning, really quite letting go whatever I -was thinking of--and what is there to come of it, except this letter? -And it doesn't sound as if my father ever wrote a word of it." - -"Grace, what do you mean, if you please?" - -"I mean what I do not please. I mean that I have been here at least -five months, as long as any fifty, and have put up with the -miserablest things--now, never mind about my English, if you please, -it is quite good enough for such a place as this--and have done my -very best to put up with you, who are enough to take fifty people's -lives away, with perpetual propriety--and have hoped and hoped, and -prayed and prayed, till my knees are not fit to be looked at--and now, -after all, what has come of it? That I am to marry a boy with a red -cord down his legs, and a crystal in his whip, and a pretty face that -seems to come from his mamma's watch-pocket, and a very nice and -gentle way of looking at a lady, as if he were quite capable, if he -had the opportunity, of saying 'bo' to any goose on the other side of -the river!" - -"My dear, do you prefer bold ruffians, then, like the vagabond you -were rescued from?" - -"I don't know at all what I do prefer, Aunt Patch, unless it is just -to be left to myself, and have nothing to say to any one." - -"Why, Grace, that is the very thing you complained of in your sinful -and ungrateful speech, just now! But do not disturb me with any more -temper. I must take the opportunity, before the mail goes out, to tell -your poor sick father how you have received his letter." - -"Oh no, if you please not. You are quite mistaken, if you think that I -thought of myself first. My dear father knows that I never would do -that; and it would be quite vain to tell him so. Oh, my darling, -darling father!--where are you now, and whatever are you doing?" - -"Grace, you are becoming outrageous quite. You know quite well where -your father is; and as to what he is doing, you know from his own -letter that he is lying ill, and longing for you to attend upon him. -And this is the way that you qualify yourself!" - -"Somehow or other now--I do not mean to be wicked, aunt--but I don't -think my father ever wrote that letter--I mean, at any rate, of his -own free will. Somebody must have stood over him--I feel as if I -really saw them--and made him say this, and that, and things that he -never used to think of saying. Why, he never would have dreamed, when -he was well, of telling me I was to marry anybody. He was so jealous -of me, he could hardly bear any gentleman to dare to smile; and he -used to make me promise to begin to let him know, five years before I -thought of any one. And now for him to tell me to marry in a -week--just as if he was putting down a silver-side to salt--and to -marry a boy that he scarcely ever heard of, and never even introduced -to me--he must have been, he cannot but have been, either wonderfully -affected by the climate, or shackled down in a slave-driver's dungeon, -until he had no idea what he was about." - -"Have you finished, Grace, now? Is your violence over?" - -"No; I have no violence; and it is not half over. But still, if you -wish to say anything, I will do all I can to listen to it." - -"You are most obliging. One would really think that I were seventeen, -and you nearly seventy." - -"Aunt Patch, you know that I am as good as nineteen; and instead of -being seventy you are scarcely fifty-five." - -"Grace, your memory is better about ages than about what you do not -wish to hear of. And you do not wish to hear, with the common -selfishness of the period, of the duty which is the most sacred of -all, and at the same time the noblest privilege--the duty of -self-sacrifice. What are your own little inclinations, petty conceits, -and miserable jokes--jokes that are ever at deadly enmity with all -deep religion--ah, what are they--you selfish and frivolous -girl!--when set in the balance with a parent's life--and a parent -whose life would have been in no danger but for his perfect devotion -to you?" - -"Aunt Patch, I never heard you speak of my father at all in that sort -of way before. You generally talk of him as if he were careless, and -worldly, and heterodox, most frivolous, and quite unregenerate. And -now quite suddenly you find out all his value. What do you want me to -do so much, Aunt Patch?" - -"Don't look at me like that, child; you quite insult me. As if it -could matter to me what you do--except for your own eternal welfare. -If you think it the right thing to let your father die in a savage -land, calling vainly for you, and buried among land-crabs without a -drop of water--that is a matter for you hereafter to render your own -account of. You have tired me, Grace. I am not so young as you are; -and I have more feeling. I must lie down a little; you have so upset -me. When you have recovered your proper frame of mind, perhaps you -will kindly see that Margery has washed out the little brown teapot." - -"To be sure, aunty, I am up to all her tricks. And I will just toast -you a water-biscuit, and put a morsel of salt butter on it, scarcely -so large as a little French bean. Go to sleep, aunty, for about an -hour. I am getting into a very proper frame of mind; I can never stay -very long out of it. May I go into the wood, just to think a little of -my darling father's letter?" - -"Yes, Grace; but not for more than half an hour, on condition that you -speak to no one. You have made my head ache sadly. Leave your father's -letter here." - -"Oh no, if you please, let me take it with me. How can I think without -it?" - -Miss Patch was so sleepy that she said, "Very well; let me see it -again when you have made the tea." Whereupon Grace, having beaten up -the cushion of the good lady's only luxury, and laid her down softly, -and kissed her forehead (for fear of having made it ache), stole her -own chance for a little quiet thought, in a shelter of the woods more -soft than thought. For the summer was coming with a stride of light; -and bashful corners, full of lateness, tried to ease it off with moss. - -In a nook of this kind, far from any path, and tenderly withdrawn into -its own green rest, the lonely and bewildered girl stopped suddenly, -and began to think. She drew forth the letter which had grieved her -so; and she wondered that it had not grieved her more. It was not yet -clear to her young frank mind that suspicion, like a mole, was at work -in it. To get her thoughts better, and to feel some goodness, she sat -upon a peaceful turret of new spear-grass, and spread her letter open, -and began to cry. She knew that this was not at all the proper way to -take things; and yet if any one had come, and preached to her, and -proved it all, she could have made no other answer than to cry the -more for it. - -The beautiful light of the glancing day turned corners, and came round -to her; the lovable joy of the many, many things which there is no -time to notice, spread itself silently upon the air, or told itself -only in fragrance; and the glossy young blades of grass stood up, and -complacently measured their shadows. - -Here lay Grace for a long sad hour, taking no heed of the things -around her, however much they heeded her. The white windflower with -its drooping bells, and the bluebell, and the harebell, and the -pasque-flower--softest of all soft tints--likewise the delicate -stitchwort, and the breath of the lingering primrose, and the white -violet that outvies its sister (that sweet usurper of the coloured -name) in fragrance and in purity; and hiding for its life, without any -one to seek, the sensitive wood-sorrel; and, in and out, and behind -them all, the cups, and the sceptres, and the balls of moss, and the -shells and the combs of lichen--in the middle of the whole, this -foolish maid had not one thought to throw to them. She ought to have -sighed at their power of coming one after another for ever, whereas -her own life was but a morning dew; but she failed to make any such -reflection. - -What she was thinking of she never could have told; except that she -had a long letter on her lap, and could not bring her mind to it. And -here in the hollow, when the warmth came round, of the evening fringed -with cloudlets, she was fairer than any of the buds or flowers, and -ever so much larger. But she could not be allowed to bloom like them. - -"Oh, I beg pardon," cried an unseen stranger in a very clear, keen -voice; "I fear I am intruding in some private grounds. I was making a -short cut, which generally is a long one. If you will just show me how -to get out again, I will get out with all speed, and thank you." - -Grace looked around with surprise but no fear. She knew that the voice -was a gentleman's; but until she got up, and looked up the little -hollow, she could not see any one. "Please not to be frightened," said -the gentleman again; "I deserve to be punished, perhaps, but not to -that extent. I fancied that I knew every copse in the county. I have -proved, and must suffer for, my ignorance." - -As he spoke he came forward on a little turfy ledge, about thirty feet -above her; and she saw that he looked at her with great surprise. She -felt that she had been crying very sadly, and this might have made her -eyes look strange. Quite as if by accident, she let her hair drop -forward, for she could not bear to be so observed; and at that very -moment there flowed a gleam of sunshine through it. She was the very -painting of the picture in her father's room. - -"Saints in heaven!" cried Hardenow, who never went further than this -in amazement, "I have found Grace Oglander! Stop, if you please--I -beseech you, stop!" - -But Grace was so frightened, and so pledge-bound, that no adjuration -stopped her. If Hardenow had only been less eager, there and then he -might have made his bow, and introduced himself. But Gracie thought of -the rabbit-man, and her promise, and her loneliness, and without -looking back, she was round the corner, and not a ribbon left to trace -her by. And now again if Hardenow had only been less eager, he might -have caught the fair fugitive by following in her footsteps. But for -such a simple course as that he was much too clever. Instead of -running down at once to the spot where she had vanished, and thence -giving chase, he must needs try a cross cut to intercept her. There -were trees and bushes in the way, it was true, but he would very soon -get through them; and to meet her face to face would be more dignified -than to run after her. - -So he made a beautifully correct cast as to the line she must have -taken, and aiming well ahead of her, leaped the crest of the hollow -and set off down the hill apace. But here he was suddenly checked by -meeting a dense row of hollies, which he had not seen by reason of the -brushwood. In a dauntless manner he dashed in among them, scratching -his face and hands, and losing a fine large piece of black kerseymere -from the skirt of his coat, and suffering many other lesser damages. -But what was far worse, he lost Grace also; for out of that holly -grove he could not get for a long, long time; and even then he found -himself on the wrong side--the one where he had entered. - -If good Anglo-Catholics ever did swear, the Rev. Thomas Hardenow must -now have sworn, for his plight was of that kind which engenders wrath -in the patient, and pleasantry on the part of the spectator. His face -suggested recent duello with a cat, his white tie was tattered and -hanging down his back, his typical coat was a mere postilion's jacket, -and the condition of his gaiters afforded to the sceptic the clearest -proof of the sad effects of perpetual self-denial. His hat, with the -instinct of self-preservation, had rolled out from the thicket when he -first rushed in; and now he picked up this wiser portion of his head, -and was thankful to have something left. - -Chances were against him; but what is chance? He had an exceedingly -strong will of his own, and having had the worst of this matter so -far, he was doubly resolved to go through with it. Without a second -thought about his present guise or aspect, he ran back to the spot -which he had left so unadvisedly. There he did what he ought to have -done ten minutes or a quarter of an hour ago, he ran down the slope to -the nest in the nook which had been occupied by Grace. Then he took to -the track which she had taken; but she had been much too quick for -him; she had even snatched up her letter, so that he was none the -wiser. He came to a spot where the narrow and thickly woven trackway -broke into two; and whether of the two to choose was more than a -moment's doubt to him. Then he seemed to see some glint of footsteps, -and sweep of soft sprays by a dress towards the right; and making a -dash through a dark hole towards it, was straightway enveloped in a -doubled rabbit-net, cast over his surviving hat. - -"Hold un tight, Jarge, now thou'st got un!" cried out somebody whom he -could not see, "poachin' son of a gun, us'll poach un!" - -"Poaching--my good friends," cried Hardenow, trying to lift his arms -and turn his head round, all vainly; "you can scarcely know the -meaning of that word, or you never would think of applying it to me. -Let me see you, that I may explain. I have been trespassing, I am -afraid; but by the purest accident--allow me to turn round, and reason -quietly; I have the greatest objection to violence; I never use, nor -allow it to be used. If you are honest gamekeepers, exceeding your -duty through earnest zeal, I would be the last to find fault with you; -want of earnestness is the great fault of this age. But you must not -allow yourselves to be misled by some little recent mischances to my -clothes. Such things befall almost everybody exploring unknown places. -You are pulling me! you are exceeding your duty! Is the bucolic mind -so dense? Here I am at your mercy--just show yourselves. You may choke -me if you like, but the result will be--oh!--that you will also be -choked yourselves!" - -"A rare fine-plucked one as ever I see," said rabbiting George to -Leviticus Cripps, when Hardenow lay between them, senseless from the -pressure upon his throat; "ease him off a bit, my lad, he never done -no harm to me. They long-coated parsons is good old women, and he be -cut up into a young gal now. Lay hold on the poor devil, right end -foremost, zoon as I have stopped uns praching. Did ever you see such a -guy out of a barrow?" - -Heavy-witted Tickuss made no answer, but laid hold of the captive by -his shoulders, so that himself might be still unseen, if consciousness -should return too soon. Black George tucked the feet under his arm, -after winding the tail of the net round the shanks, and expressing -surprise at their slimness; and in no better way than this these two -ignorant bumpkins swung the body of one of the leading spirits of the -rising age to the hog-pound. - -Thomas Hardenow was not the man to be long insensible. Every fibre of -his frame was a wire of electric life. He was "all there"--to use a -slang expression, which, by some wondrous accident, has a little pith -in it--in about two minutes; not a bit of him was absent; and he -showed it by hanging like a lump upon his bearers as they fetched him -to an empty hog-house, dropped him anyhow, and locked him in; then one -of them jumped on a little horse and galloped off to Oxford. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII. - -COMBINED WISDOM. - - -"I really cannot go on like this," said Mr. Sharp to Mrs. Sharp, quite -early on the following morning. "Thank God, I am not of a nervous -nature, and patience is one of my largest virtues. But acting, as I -have done, for the best, I cannot be expected to put up with perpetual -suspense. This very day I will settle this matter, one way or the -other." The lawyer for the first time now was flurried; he had heard -of the capture of a spy last night--for so poor Hardenow had been -described--and though he had kept that new matter to himself, he was -puzzled to see his way through with it. - -"Luke, my dear," replied Mrs. Sharp, with some of her tightenings not -done up, "surely there need not be such hurry. You make me quite -shiver, when you speak like that. I shall come down to breakfast -without any power; and the Port-meadow eel will go out for the maids. -Should we ever behold it again, Luke?" - -"Of course not; how could you expect it? Slippery, slippery--hard it -is to lay fast hold of anything; and the worst of all to bind is -woman. I do not mean you, my dear; you need not look like that; you -are as firm as this tag of your stays--corset, corset--I beg pardon; -how can a man tell the fashionable words?" - -"But, Luke, you surely would not think of proceeding to extremities?" - -"Any extremity; if it only were the last. For the good of my family, I -have worked hard; and there never should have been all this worry with -it. Miranda, I may have strayed outside the truth, and outside the -law--which is so much larger--but one thing I beg you to bear in mind. -Not a thing have I done, except for you and Kit. Money to me is the -last thing I think of; pure affection is the very first. And no one -can meddle with your settlement." - -"Oh, my darling," Mrs. Sharp exclaimed, as she fell back from looking -at the looking-glass, "you are almost too good for this world, Luke! -You think of everybody in the world except yourself. It is not the -right way to get on, dear. We must try to be a little harder." - -"I have thought so, Miranda; I must try to do it. Petty little -sentiments must be dropped. We must rise and face the state of things -which it has pleased Providence to bring about. I am responsible for a -great deal of it; and with your assistance, I will see it through. We -must take Kit in hand at once. My dear wife, can I rely upon you?" - -"Luke, you may rely upon me for anything short of perjury; and if it -comes to that, I must think first." - -"No man ever had a better any more than he could have a truer wife, or -one so perpetually young." With these words Mr. Sharp performed some -little operations, which, even in the "highest circles," are sometimes -allowed to be brought about by masculine hands, when clever enough; -and before very long this affectionate pair went down to breakfast and -enjoyed fried eel. - -Kit, who had caught this fine eel, was not there; perhaps he was gone -forth to catch another; so they left him the tail to be warmed up. In -the present condition of his active mind, and the mournful absence of -his beloved, Christopher found a dark and moody pleasure in laying -night-lines. If his snare were successful, he hauled out his victim, -and, with a scornful smile, despatched him; if the line held nothing, -he cast it in again, with a sigh of habitual frustration. This -morning, however, he was not gone forth on his usual round of -inspection, but had only walked up to the livery-stables, to make sure -of his favourite hack for the day. He had made up his mind that he -must see Grace that very same day, come what would of it; he would go -much earlier, and watch the door; and if this bad fortune still -continued, he would rush up at last and declare himself. - -But this bold resolve had a different issue; for no sooner had the -young man, with some reluctance and self-reproach, dealt bravely with -a solid breakfast, than he was requested by his dear mother to come -into his father's little study. - -Now, this invitation was not in accordance with the present mood of -Christopher. He had made up his mind to be off right soon for the -bowers of his beloved, with a roll and some tongue in his little -fishing-creel, and a bottle of beer in each holster. In the depth of -the wood he might thus get on, and enjoy to the utmost fruition of his -heart all the beauty of nature around him. It was a cruel blow to -march just then to a lecture from the governor, whose little private -study he particularly loathed, and regarded as the den of the evil -one. However, he set up his pluck and went. - -Mr. Sharp, looking (if possible) more upright and bright than usual, -sat in front of the large and strong-legged desk, where he kept his -more private records, such as never went into the office. Mrs. Sharp -also took a legal chair, and contemplated Kit with a softer gaze. He -with a beating heart stood up, like a youth under orders to construe. - -"My son," began the father and the master, in a manner large and -affable, "prepare yourself for a little surprise on the part of those -whose principal object is your truest welfare. For some weeks now you -have made your dear mother anxious and unhappy, by certain proceedings -which you thought it wise and manly to conceal from her." - -"Yes, you know you did, Kit!" Mrs. Sharp interposed, shaking her short -curls, and trying to look fierce. The boy, with a deep blush, looked -at her, as if everybody now was against him. - -"Christopher, we will not blame you," resumed Mr. Sharp, rather -hastily, for fear that his wife should jump up and spoil all. "Our -object in calling you is not that. You have acted according to our -wishes mainly, though you need not have done it so furtively. You have -formed an attachment to a certain young lady, who leads for the -present a retired life, in a quiet part of the old Stow Wood. And she -returns your affection. Is it so, or is it not?" - -"I--I--I," stammered Kit, seeking for his mother's eyes, which had -buried themselves in her handkerchief. "I can't say a word about what -she thinks. She--she--she has got such a fashion of running away so. -But I--I--I--well, then, it's no good telling a lie about it; I am -deucedly fond of her!" - -"That is exactly what I wished to know; though not expressed very -tastefully. Well, and do you know who she is, my son?" - -"Yes, I know all that quite well; as much as any fellow wants to know. -She is a young lady, and she knows all the flowers, and the birds, and -the names of the trees almost. She can put me right about the kings of -England; and she knows my dogs as well as I do." - -"A highly accomplished young lady, in short?" - -"Yes, I should say a great deal more than that. I care very little for -accomplishments. But--but if I must come to the point--I do like her, -and no mistake!" - -"Then you would not like some other man to come, and run away with -her, quite against her will?" - -"That man must run over my body first," cried Kit, with so much spirit -that his father looked proud, and his poor mother trembled. - -"Well, well, my boy," continued the good lawyer, "it will be your own -fault if the villain gets the chance. I am doing all I can to provide -against it; and am even obliged to employ some means of a nature not -at all congenial to me, for--for that very reason. You are sure that -you love this young lady, Kit?" - -"Father, I would not say anything strong; but I would go on my knees, -all the way from here to there, for the smallest chance of getting -her!" - -"Very good. That is as it should be. I would have done the very same -for your dear mother. Mamma, you have often reminded me of it, when -anything--well, those are reminiscences; but they lie at the bottom of -everything. A mercenary marriage is an outrage to all good feeling." - -"She has not got a sixpence, father; she told me so. She makes all the -bread, and she puts by all the dripping." - -"My dear boy, you know then what a good wife is. Mamma, we shall have -to clear out the room where the rocking-horse is, and the old -magic-lantern, and let this young couple go into it." - -"My dear, it would be a long job; and there are a great many cracks in -the paper; but still we could have in old Josephine." - -"Those are mere details, Momma. But this is a serious question; and -the boy must not be hurried. He may not have made up his mind; or he -may desire to change it to-morrow. He is too young to have any settled -will; and there is no reason why he should not wait----" - -"Not a day will I wait--not an hour would I wait; in ten minutes I -could pack everything!" - -"He might wait for a twelvemonth, my dear Miranda, and sound his own -feelings, and the young girl's too, if we could only be certain that -the young man of rank, with the four bay horses, was not in earnest -when he swore to carry her off to-morrow." - -"My dear husband," Mrs. Sharp said, softly; "let us hope that he meant -nothing by it. Such things are frequently said, and come to nothing." - -"I tell you what it is," Kit almost shouted, with his fist upon the -sacred desk; "you cannot in any way enter into my feelings upon such -matters! I beg your pardon, that is not what I mean, and I ought never -to have said it. But still, comparatively speaking, you can take these -things easily, and go on, and think people foolish--but I cannot. I -know when my mind is made up, and I do it. And to stop me with all -sorts of nonsense--at least, to find fifty reasons why I should do -nothing--is the surest of all ways to make me do it. I have many -people who will follow me through thick and thin; though you may not -believe it, because you cannot understand me, and your views are -confined to propriety. Mine are not. And you may find that out in a -very short time. At any rate, if I do a thing that brings you, father -and mother, into any evil words, all I can say is, you never should -have stopped me." - -With this very lucid expression of ideas, Christopher strode away, and -left his parents petrified--as he thought. Mrs. Sharp was inclined to -be a dripping well; but Mr. Sharp was dry enough. "Exactly, exactly," -he said, as he always said when a thing had come up to his reckoning; -"nothing could have been done much better. Put the money in his best -breeches' pocket, my dear, without my knowledge; and at the back-door -kiss him. Adjure him to do nothing rash; and lend him your own -wedding-ring, and weep. For a runaway match the most lucky of all -things is the boy's mother's wedding-ring. And above all things, not a -word about his rival, until he asks--and then all mystery; only you -know a great deal more than you dare tell." - -"Oh, Luke, are you sure that it will all go aright?" - -"Miranda, tell me anything we can be sure of, and you will have given -me a new idea. And I want ideas; I want them sadly. My power of -invention is failing me, or at any rate that of combining my -inventions. You did not observe that I was nervous, did you?" - -"Nervous! Luke--you nervous! I should think that the end of the world -was coming if I saw any nervousness in you! And in the presence of a -boy, indeed----" - -"My dear wife, I will give you my word that I felt--well, I will not -say 'nervous,' if you dislike it--but a little uncomfortable, and not -quite clear, when I saw how Kit was taking things. Real affection is a -dreadful thing. I did not want so much of it. I meant to have told him -who she is, till the turn of things made me doubt about it. But he is -quite up for anything now, I believe, though he must be told before he -goes. He is such a calf that he must not imagine that she has a -sixpence to bless herself. He would fly off in a moment if he guessed -the truth. He must know her name; and that you must tell him; and you -know how to explain it all a thousand-fold better than I do." - -"Possibly I do," replied Mrs. Sharp; "I may have some very few ideas -of my own; although according to you, Mr. Sharp, I am only the mother -of a calf!" - -"Very well said, my dear. And I have the honour of being his father." -They smiled at one another, for they both knew how to give and take. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII. - -MASCULINE ERROR. - - -Christopher Fermitage Sharp, Esquire, strode forth, to have room as -well as time for thought. His comely young face was unusually red, and -he stroked his almost visible moustache, as a stimulant to manhood. So -deep and stern were his meditations, that he never even thought of his -pipe until he came to a bridge on the Botley road, whereon he was -accustomed to lean, and smoke, and gaze at the little fish quietly. -From the force of habit he pulled out his meerschaum, flint and steel, -and German tinder, and through blue rings of his own creation, watched -and envied the little fish. For though it was not yet the manner of -his mind to examine itself very deeply, he had a strong conviction -that the fish were happy, and that he was miserable. Upon the former -point there could not be two opinions--unless the fish themselves held -one--when any man observed how the little fellows jumped at the -spicy-flavoured flies (that fluttered on fluid gold to them), or -flashed in and out among one another, with a frolicsome spread of -silver, or, best of all, in calm contemplation, softly moved pellucid -fins, and gently opened fans of gills, with magnifying eyes intent -upon the glory of the lustrous world. Kit considered them with an -envious gaze. Were they harassed, were they tortured, were they racked -with agonised despair, by the proceedings of the female fish? - -Compelled to turn his grim thoughts inward, he knew not that he was -jealous. He only knew that if he were to meet the young nobleman with -the four bay horses, it would be an evil day for one of them. Tush, -why should he not go and forestall that bloated, unprincipled -aristocrat--whose intentions might even be dishonourable--by having -four horses himself, and persuading that queen of beauty to elope with -him? He had given his parents due notice; and if he had done what they -wished by thus falling in love, it could not be very much against -their wishes if he made a hasty match of it. But could this lovely -young American be persuaded to come with him. He had far too much -respect for her to dream of using violence. But surely if he could -convince her of the peril she was in, and could promise her safe -refuge with a grave old lady, a valued relative of his own, while she -should have time to consider his suit, his devotion, his eternal -constancy, his everlasting absorption into her higher and purer -identity-- - -He pulled out his purse; it contained four and sixpence--a shilling -and three halfpence for each horse, and nothing for the postilions. -"We must do it less grandly," he said to himself; "and after all it -will be better so. How could four horses ever get through that wood? I -must have been a fool to think of it. A very light chaise and pair -will do ten times better, at a quarter of the money. I can get tick -for that from old Squeaker himself; and the governor will have to pay; -it need not cost me more than half a crown, and about three bob for -turnpikes. Fifteen miles to old Aunt Peggy's on the Wycombe road. Once -there, I defy them to do what they like. I am always the master of -that house, and I know where they keep the blunderbuss. I have the -greatest mind not to go home at all, but complete my arrangements -immediately. Squeaker would lend me a guinea with pleasure; he is a -large-minded man, I am sure. What a fool I was to give poor Cinnaminta -such a quantity of tin that day!--and yet how could I help it? I might -have gone on like a lord but for that." - -Kit turned round and shook his head in several directions, trying to -bring to his mind the places where money might be hoped for. Than this -there is no mental effort more difficult and absorbing. No wonder -therefore that, in this contemplation, he did not hear the up-mail -full-gallop, springing the arch from the Cheltenham side, to make a -fine run into Oxford. "Hoi there, stoopid!" the coachman shouted, for -the bridge was narrow, and the coach danced across it, with the vigour -of the well-corded team. "Oh, Kit, is it? Climb for your hat, Kit." - -Kit's best friend--so far as he had any friends in the University--by -a stroke of fine art, sent the lash of his whip round the hat of the -hero, and deposited it, ere one might cry, "Where art thou gone?" on -the oil-cloth, which sat on the top of the luggage, which sat on the -top of the coach which he drove, like the heir of all the race of -Nimshi. The hireling Jehu sat beside him, and having been at it since -nine o'clock last night, snored with a flourish not inferior to that -which the mail-guard began upon his horn. - -Kit was familiar with a coach at speed, as every young Englishman at -that time was. In a twinkle he dashed at the hind-boot, laid hold of -the handle, and was up at once; the guard, with an eye to an honest -half-crown, moving sideways, but offering no help, because it would -have been an insult. Then over the hump of the luggage crawled Kit, -and clapped his own hat on his head, and between the shoulders of two -fat passengers, threw forth his strong arm, and "bonneted" the -spanking son of Nimshi. The leaders ran askew, till they were caught -up; and the smart young driver would have thrown down the reins, and -committed a personal assault on Kit, who was perfectly ready to reply -to it--being skilled in the art of self-defence--if the two fat -passengers, having seen the whole, had not joined hands, and stopped -it. - -"Tit for tat; tit for tat!" they cried; "Squire, you began it, and you -have your due." And so, with a hearty laugh, on they galloped. - -"If you should have anything to say to me," cried Kit, as he swung -himself off the early mail, at the corner of his native Cross Duck -Lane, "you will know where to find me. But you must wait a day or two, -for I have a particular engagement." - -"All rubbish, Kit! Come and wine with me at seven. I shall have tooled -home the 'Nonpareil' by then." - -Christopher, though stern, was placable. He kissed his hand to his -reconciled friend, while he shook his head, to decline the invitation, -and strode off vigorously to consult his mother. To consult his dear -mother meant to get money out of her, which was a very easy thing to -do; and having a good deal of conscience, Kit seldom abused that -opportunity, unless he was really driven to it. Metallic necessity was -on him now; his courage had been rising for the last half-hour. "Faint -heart never won fair lady," rang to the tune of many horses' feet. His -dash through the air had set his spirits flying; his exploit, and the -applause thereof, had taught him his own value. From this day forth he -was a man of the world; and a man of the world was entitled to a wife. - -It is the last infirmity of noble and too active minds, to feel that -nothing is done well unless their presence guides it; to doubt the -possibility of sage prevision and nice conduct, through the ins and -outs of things, if ever the master-spirit trusts the master-body to be -away, and the countless eyes of the brain to give twinkle, instead of -the two solid lights of the head. Hence it was that Mr. Sharp, at -sight of Kit, came forth to meet him, although he had arranged to send -the mother. And this--as Mrs. Sharp declared to her dying day--was the -greatest mistake ever made by a man of most wonderful mind; while she -was putting away the linen. - -"Come in here, my boy," he said to his son, who was strictly vexed to -see him, and yearning to be round the corner; "there are one or two -things that have never been made quite clear to your understanding. We -do not expect you to be too clear-sighted at your time of life, and so -on. Come in that I may have a word with you." - -Christopher, with a little thrill of fear, once more entered the -sacred den, and there stood as usual; while his father sat and -regarded him with a lightsome smile. One of the many causes which had -long been at work to impair the young man's filial affection was, that -his father behaved as if it were not worth while to be in earnest with -him; as if Kit Sharp had a mind no riper than just to afford amusement -to mature and busy intellects. Christopher knew his own depth, and was -trying to be strong too, whenever he could think of it. And if he did -spend most of his time in sport and congenial pastime, of one thing he -was certain--that he never did harm to any one. Could his father say -that much for himself? - -"Aha, my boy, aha," said the elder Sharp in that very same vein which -always so annoyed and vexed his son; "what will you give me for a -little secret, a sweet little secret about a young lady in whom you -take the deepest interest?" - -The ingenuous youth, in spite of all efforts, could not help blushing -deeply; for he had a purely candid skin, reproduced from Piper -ancestry. And the sense of hot cheeks made him glow to the vital -centres of the nobler stuff. Therefore he scraped with his toes--which -was a trick of his--and kept silence. - -"Pocket money gone again?" continued his father pleasantly; "nothing -to offer his kind papa for most valuable information? Courting is an -expensive business--I ought to have remembered that. And the younger -the parties the more it costs; hot-house flowers, and a -smelling-bottle, a trifle of a ring, just to learn the size; that -being accepted, the bolder brooch, charmed bracelet, and locket for -the virgin heart--no wonder you are short of cash, my Kit." - -"You don't know one atom about it," cried Christopher, boiling with -meritorious wrath. "I never gave her nothing--and she wouldn't have -it!" - -"The double negative, to be sure. How forcible and how natural it is! -Well, well, my boy, let us try to believe you. Scatter all doubts by -exhibiting your wealth. You had five pounds and ten shillings lately; -and you pay nothing for anything that can be placed to your father's -credit. Let me see your cash-box, Kit." - -"This is all that I have at present," said Christopher, pulling out -his three-and-sixpence--for he had given the guard a shilling; "but -you must not suppose that this is all to which I am entitled. I have -I.O.U's from junior members of the University for really more than I -can reckon up; and every one of them will get the money from his -sisters, in the long vacation." - -"Oh, Kit, Kit! The firm ends with me. I must sell the good-will for -the very worst old song, if it once leaks out what a fool you are. By -what strange cross of reckless blood can such a boy be the future head -of Piper, Pepper, Sharp, & Co.?" Mr. Sharp covered up his long clear -head, and hid--for this once--true emotion. Kit looked at the kerchief -with a very queer glance. He was not at all affected by this -lamentation, however just, because he had heard it so often before; -and he never could make out exactly how much of him his father could -manage to descry through that veil Palladian. - -"Well, sir," he said, "you have always told me, as long as I can -remember, that I was to be a gentleman; and gentlemen trust one -another." - -"Very well said!" Mr. Sharp replied, with a deeply irritating smile; -"and now I will trust you, young sir, in a matter of importance. -Remember that I trust you as a gentleman--for I need not tell you one -word, unless I choose--and if I depart from my usual practice, it is -partly because you are beginning to claim a sort of maturity. Very -well, let us see if it can be relied upon. You pledge your word to -keep silence, and I tell you what you never could find out." - -Kit was divided with his mind in twain; whether he should draw the -sharp falchion of his wit, or whether he should rather speak honeysome -words; and, as nearly always happens when Minerva is admitted, he -betook himself to the gentler process. - -"Very well, sir," he said, pulling up his collar, as if he had -whiskers to push it down, "whatever I am told in confidence is allowed -to go no further. It is scarcely necessary for me to say that I -reserve, of course, the final right of reference to my honour." - -"To be sure, and to your ripe judgment and almost patriarchal -experience, Kit. Then be it known to you, aged youth, that you have -not shown hoar sagacity. You do not even know who the lady is whom you -have honoured with your wise addresses." - -"And I don't care a d----n who she is," cried Kit, "so long as I love -her, and she loves me!" - -"My son, you are turbulent and hasty. Your wisdom has left you -suddenly. Your manners also; or you would not swear in the presence of -your father." - -"Sir, I was wrong; and I beg your pardon. But I think that I learned -the first way of it from you." - -"Kit, Kit, recall that speech! You must have gone altogether dreaming -lately. My discourse is always moderate, and to the last degree -professional. However, in spite of the generous impulse, which -scarcely seems natural at your threescore years and ten, it does seem -a needful precaution to learn the name, style, and title of the lady -whom you will vow to love, honour, and--obey." - -"Her name," cried Kit, without any sense of legal phrase and jingle, -"is Grace Holland. Her style is a great deal better than anybody -else's. And as for title, such rubbish is unknown in the gigantic -young nation to which she belongs." - -"Her name," said Mr. Sharp, setting his face for the conquest of this -boy, and fixing keen hard eyes upon him, "is Grace Oglander, the -daughter of the old Squire of Beckley. Her style--in your sense of the -word--is that of a rustic young lady; and her title, by courtesy, is -Miss--a barbarous modern abbreviation." - -The youth was at first too much amazed to say a word; for he was not -quick-witted, as his father was. He gave a little gasp, and his fine -brown eyes, which he could not remove from his father's, changed their -expression from defiance to doubt, and from doubt to fear, and from -fear to sorrow, with a little dawning of contempt. "Why, my man, is -this beyond your experience of life?" asked Luke Sharp, trying to look -his son down, but failing, and beginning to grow uneasy. Kit's face -was aflame with excitement, and his lips were trembling; but his eyes -grew stern. - -"Father, I hope you do not mean what you have said--that you are only -joking with me--at any rate, that you have not known it--that you have -not done it--that you have not even left poor old Mr. Oglander one -hour----" - -"Wait, boy, wait! You know nothing about it. Who are you to judge of -such matters, indeed? Remember to whom you are speaking, if you -please. I have done what was right; and for your sake I have done it." - -"For my sake! Why, I never had seen the young lady before I was told -that she was dead and buried--murdered, as everybody said--and the -tracing of the criminals was mainly left to you! I longed to help, but -I knew that you despised me; and now do you mean to say that you did -it?" - -Luke Sharp was a quick-tempered man. He had borne a great deal more -than usual. And now he spoke with vast disdain. - -"To be sure, Kit, I murdered her; as is proved to such a mind as yours -by the fact of her being now alive! What can I have done to have a -fool for my son?" - -"And what have I done to have a rogue for a father? You may knock me -down, sir, if you please!"--for Mr. Sharp arose, as if that would be -his next proceeding;--"you have always used your authority very much -in that manner with me. I don't want to be knocked down; but if it -will do you any good, pray proceed to it; and down I go." - -"I declare, after all, you have got some little wit," cried the -lawyer, with a smile withdrawing, and recovering self-command. "I -cannot be angry with a boy like you, because you know no better. Oh, -here comes your mother! Your excitement has aroused her. Mamma, you -have not the least idea what a lion you have to answer for. I leave -him to you, my dear. Soothe him, feed him, and try to find his -humming-top." - - - - -CHAPTER XLIX. - -PROMETHEUS VINCTUS. - - -"I will not die like this! It is unseemly to die like this!" the Rev. -Thomas Hardenow was exclaiming at this very time, but a few miles off. -"I hope I am not a coward altogether; but the ignominy is unbearable. -In this den of Eumæus, this sty of Sycorax, entangled in the meshes of -a foul hog-net, and with hogs' grunt, grunt, for the chorus of my -woes! My Prometheus class is just waiting for me at the present -moment, so far as I can reckon here the climbing of the day; and I had -rendered into English verses that delicious bit of chorus--'With thy -woes of mighty groaning, mortals feel a fellow-moaning, And of Colchic -land indwellers, maids who never quail in fight;' and so on--how -small-minded of me to forget it now!--down to, 'And springs of -holy-watered rivers wail thy pitiable woe.' But instead of nymphs of -ocean, here comes that old pig again! If he could only grout up that -board--which he must do sooner or later--what part of me will he begin -upon? Probably this little finger--it is so white and helpless! If I -could only, only move!--to be eaten alive by pigs! Well, well--there -is not so very much left for them. Infinitely better men have had a -lower end than that. Only I would bend my knees--if bend them I -could--to the Giver of all good, that I may be insensible before the -pigs begin." - -His plight was a very unfortunate one; but still in the blackest veil -of woe there is sure to be some little threadbare place--from so many -people having worn that veil--and even poor Hardenow had one good -"look-out." To wit, although he had been without food for -six-and-twenty hours now (having been caught in the treacherous toils -soon after he set his toes towards his dinner), he was not by any -means in the same state in which a Low-Church clergyman must have -been. His system was so attuned to fasting, and all his parts so -disciplined, that "cupboard" was only whispered among them in a -submissive manner; and even his stomach concluded sorrowfully that it -must be Friday. - -Beyond this considerable advantage--which could not last much -longer--there was really little to console him. His cowardly captors, -not content with the rabbit-net twined round him, had swathed him also -in the stronger meshes of a corded gig-net. And even after that, Black -George, having had the handling of his legs, and discovered the vigour -of their boniness, was so impressed that he called out--"I never did -heckle such a wiry chap. Fetch a pair of they tough thongs, Tickuss, -same as thou makest use of for ringing of the pigs, my lad." - -"Whish!--can't 'ee whish, with my name so pat?" Leviticus whispered -sulkily; but he brought the unyielding thongs, wherewith the fellow -and tutor of Brasenose very soon had his wrists and ankles strapped. -And in spite of all struggles through the livelong night, as firmly as -a trussed hare was he fixed. - -Nevertheless, he could roll a little, though not very fast, because -his elbows stopped him; for being of the sharpest they stuck into the -ground, which was of a loamy nature. He fought with this difficulty, -as with every other; for a braver heart never dwelled in any body, -whether fat or lean; and he plucked up his angles from their bed of -earth, whenever the limits of cord would yield. He knew all about the -manufacture of twine--so far as one not in the trade could know -it--because he had got up the subject for the sake of a whipcord of a -puzzle in Theocritus; but this only served to make his case the worse; -for at that time honest string was made. The dressing, and the facing, -and the thousand other rogueries, make it quite impossible to tie a -good knot now; and even if a strap has any leather in it, its first -operation is a compromise. - -But at that stouter period, bind made bound. Mr. Hardenow could roll a -little; but that was as much as he could do. And rolling did him very -little good, except by way of exercise; because he was pulled up short -so suddenly by feather-edged boarding, with a coat of tar. The place -in which he was penned was most unworthy of such an occupant. It was -not even the principal meal-house, or the best treasury of "wash." It -was not the kitchen of the tasteful pigs, or even their back-kitchen, -but something combining the qualities of their scullery and dust-bin. -But the floor was clean, and a man lying lowly, so far as smell was -concerned, had certainly the best of the situation; inasmuch as all -odours must ascend to the pure ether of the exalted. Hardenow knew -that it was vain to roll, because the door was padlocked, and the -lower end, to which he chiefly tended, had a loose board, lifted every -now and then by the unringed snout of a very good old sow. Pure -curiosity was her motive, and no evil appetite, as her eyes might -tell. She had never seen a fellow and a tutor of a college rolling, as -she herself loved to do; and yet in a comparatively clumsy way. She -grunted deep disapproval of his movements, and was vexed that her -instructions were entirely thrown away. - -"Ah, Linus, Linus be the cry; and let the good be conqueror!" Mr. -Hardenow quoted, as his legs began to ache; "henceforth, if I have any -henceforth, how palpably shall I realise the difference between the -alindethra and the circular conistra! In this limited place I combine -the two; but without the advantages of either. I take it that, whether -of horse, or hen, or human being, the essential condition of -revolutionary enjoyment is--that the limbs be free. In my case, they -are not free. The exhilaration which would ensue, and of which, if I -remember rightly, Pliny speaks--or is it Ælian?--my memory seems to be -rolling too; but be the authority what it will, in my case that -exhilaration is (at least for the moment) not forthcoming. But I ought -to condemn myself far rather than writers who treat of a subject with -the gravity of authority; that is to say, if they ever tried it. -'Experimentum in corpore vili,' is what all writers have preferred. If -their own bodies were not too noble, what powerful impress they might -have left!" - -After such a cynical delivery as this, it served him particularly -right to hit, in the course of revolution, upon a bit of bone even -harder than his own; a staunch piece of noble old ossification -(whether of herbivorous, carnivorous, or omnivorous dragon), such as -would have brought Professor Buckland from Christ Church headlong, or -even Professor Owen, from the British Museum, the Melampus of all good -dragons. Hardenow knew nothing about it; except that it ran into him, -and jerked him in such a way over the ground, that he got into the -highest corner, and gladly would have rubbed himself, if good hemp had -yielded room for it. - -But this sad blow, which seemed at first the buffet of the third and -crowning billow of his woe, proved to be a blessing in disguise; -inasmuch as the reaction impelled him to a spot where he descried some -encouragement to work. And a little encouragement was enough for him. -By virtue of inborn calmness, long classical training and memories, -and pure Anglo-Catholic discipline, the young man was still "as fresh -as paint," in a trouble which would have exhausted the vigour of a far -more powerful and fiery man. Russel Overshute, for instance, even in -his best health would have worn his wits out long ago, by futile -wrath, and raving hunger. - -Mr. Hardenow could not even guess how there came to be quite a thick -cluster of pretty little holes, of about the size of a swan's quill, -drilled completely through the board against which his mishap had -driven him. The board was a stoutish slab of larch, cut -"feather-edged;" and the saw having struck upon most of these holes -obliquely, their form was elliptic instead of round, and their axes -not being at right angles to the board, they attracted no attention by -admitting light, since the light of course entered obliquely. In some -parts as close as the holes of a colander, in other places scattered -more widely, they jotted the plank for nearly a yard of its length, -and afforded a fine specimen of the penetrative powers of a colony of -_Sirex gigas_, so often mistaken for the hornet. - -But though as to their efficient cause he could form no opinion, -Hardenow hoped that their final cause might be to save his life; which -he quietly believed to be in great peril. For he knew that he lay in -the remote obscurity of a sad and savage wood, unvisited by justice, -trade, or benefit of clergy. Here, if no good spirit came, or unseen -genius, to release him, die he must at his own leisure, which would be -a long one. And he could discover no moral to be read from his -pre-historic skeleton; unless it were that very low one--"stick to thy -own business." - -A man of ordinary mind would not have troubled his head about this. -"_Post me, diluvium_," is the strengthening sentiment of this age; no -fulcrum whatever for any good work; and the death of all immortality. -Hardenow would have none of that; he had no idea of leaving ashes fit -to nourish nothing. Collecting his energies for a noble protest -against having lived altogether in vain, he brought his fettered -heels, like a double-headed hammer, as hard as his probolistic swing -could whirl, against the very thickest-crowded cells of bygone -domicile. The wooden shed rang, and the uprights shook, and the nose -of the sow at the lower end was jarred, and her feelings hurt; for, -truly speaking, her motives had been misunderstood. And if Hardenow -had but kept pigs of his own, he would have gone to work down there, -to help her, and so perhaps have got her to release him from his -toils. Everybody, however, must be allowed to go to work in his own -way: and to find fault with him, when he tries to do his best, is (as -all kind critics own) alike ungraceful and ungracious. Mr. Hardenow -worked right hard, as he always did at everything, and his heels had -their sparables as good as new, and capable of calcitration, though he -wore nothing stronger than Oxford shoes with a bow of silk ribbon on -the instep. The ribbon held fast, and he kicked or rather swung his -feet by a process of revolution, as bravely as if he had Hessian boots -on. At the very first stroke he had fetched out a splinter as big as -the scoop of a marrow-spoon; and delivering his coupled heels -precisely where little tunnels afforded target, in a quarter of an -hour he had worked a good hole, and was able to refresh himself with -the largeness of the outer world. - -Not that he could, however skilled now in rolling, roll himself out of -his black jail yet--for the piece punched out was only four inches -wide--but that he got a very decent width (in proportion at least to -man's average view) for clear consideration of the world outside. And -what he saw now was a pretty little sight, or peep at country scenery. -For the wood, just here, was not so thick that a man could not see it -by reason of the trees--as the Irishman forcibly observed--but a -dotted slope of bush and timber widening and opening sunny reaches out -of the narrow forest track. There was no house to be seen, nor -cottage, nor even barn or stable, nor any moving creature, except a -pig or two grouting in the tufted grass, and gray-headed daws at -leisure perking and prying, for the good of their home-circle. - -But presently the prisoner espied a wicket-gate, nearly at the bottom -of the sylvan slope, with a little space roughly stoned before -it--almost a sure sign, in a neighbourhood like that, of a human -dwelling-place inside. And when Hardenow's eyes, recovering tone, -assured him of the existence of some moss-grown steps, for the -climbing of a horse upon either side, he felt a sudden (though it may -not have been a strictly logical) happiness, from the warm idea that -there must be some of the human race not far from him. He placed his -lips close to the hole which he had made, and shouted his very -loudest, and then stopped a little while, to watch what might come of -it, and then sent forth another shout. But nothing came of it, except -that the pigs pricked up their ears and looked around and grunted; and -the jackdaws gave a little jerk or two, and flapped their wings, but -did not fly; and a soft woody echo, of a fibrous texture, answered as -weakly as a boy who does not know. - -This was pretty much what Hardenow expected. He saw that the -wicket-gate was a long way off, three or four hundred yards perhaps; -but he did not know that his jailer, Tickuss Cripps, was the man who -lived inside of it. Otherwise his sagacious mind would have yielded -quiet mercy to his lungs. For Leviticus was such a cruel and cowardly -blunderer, that, in mere terror, he probably would have dashed grand -brains out. But luckily he was far away now, and so were all other -spies and villains; and only a little child--boy or girl, at that -distance nobody could say which--toddled out to the wicket-gate, and -laid fat arms against it, and laboured, with impatient grunts, to push -it open. Having seen no one for a long time now, Hardenow took an -extraordinary interest in the efforts of this child. The success or -the failure of this little atom could not in any way matter to him; -yet he threw his whole power of sight into the strain of the distant -conflict. He made up his mind that if the child got out, he should be -able to do the like. - -Then having most accurate "introspection" (so far as humanity has such -gift) he feared that his mind must be a little on the wane, ere ever -such weakness entered it. To any other mind the wonder would have been -that his should continue to be so tough; but he hated shortcomings, -and began to feel them. Laying this nice question by, until there -should be no child left to look at, he gazed with his whole might at -this little peg of a body, in the distance, toppling forward, and -throwing out behind the weight of its great efforts. He wondered at -his own interest--as we all ought to wonder, if we took the trouble. -This little peg, now in battle with the gate, was a solid Peg in -earnest; a fine little Cripps, about five years old, as firm as if -just turned out of a churn. She was backward in speech, as all the -Crippses are; and she rather stared forth her ideas than spoke them. -But still, let her once get a settlement concerning a thing that must -be done to carry out her own ideas; and in her face might be seen, -once for all, that stop she never would till her own self had done it. -Hardenow could not see any face, but he felt quite a surety of -sturdiness, from the solid mould of attitude. - -That heavy gate, standing stiffly on its heels, groaned -obstreperously, and gibed at the unripe passion of this little maid. -It banged her chubby knees, and it bruised her warted hand, and it -even bestowed a low cowardly buffet upon her expressive and determined -cheek. And while she lamented this wrong, and allowed want of judgment -to kick out at it, unjust it may have been, but true it is, that she -received a still worse visitation. The forefoot of the gate, which was -quite shaky and rattlesome in its joints, came down like a skittle-pin -upon her little toes, which were only protected on a Sunday. "Ototoi, -Ototoi!" cried Mr. Hardenow, with a thrilling gush of woe, as if his -own toes were undergoing it. Bitter, yet truly just, lamentation awoke -all the echoes of the woods and hills, and Hardenow thought that it -was all up now--that this small atom of the wooded world would accept -her sad fate, and run in to tell her mother. - -But no; this child was the Carrier's niece; and a man's niece--under -some law of the Lord, untraced by acephalous progeny--takes after him -oftentimes a great deal closer than his own beloved daughter does. -Whether or no, here was this little animal, as obstinate as the very -Carrier. Taught by adversity she did thus:--Against the gate-post she -settled her most substantial availability, and exerted it, and spared -it not. Therewith she raised one solid leg, and spread the naked foot -thereof, while her lips were as firm as any toe of all the lot, -against the vile thing that had knocked her about, and the power that -was contradicting her. Nothing could withstand this fixed resolution -of one of the far more resolute moiety of humanity. With a creak of -surrender, the gate gave back; and out came little Peggy Cripps, with -a broad face glowing with triumph, which suddenly fell into a length -of terror, as the vindictive gate closed behind her. To get out had -been a great labour, but to get back was an impossibility; and -Hardenow, even so far away, could interpret the gesture of despair and -horror. "Poor little thing! How I wish that I could help her!" he said -to himself, and very soon began to think that mutual aid might with -proper skill be compassed. - -With this good idea, he renewed his shouts, but offered them in a more -insinuating form; and being now assured that the child was female, his -capacious mind framed a brief appeal to the very first instinct of all -female life. Possibly therefore the fairer half of pig and daw -creation appropriated with pleasure his address. At any rate, although -the child began to look around, she had no idea whence came the words, -"Pretty little dear! little beauty!" etc., with which the learned -prisoner was endeavouring to allure her. - -But at last, by a very great effort and with pain, Hardenow managed to -extract from the nets his white cravat, or rather his cravat which had -been white, when it first hung down his back from the taloned clasp of -the hollies. By much contrivance and ingenious rollings, he brought -out a pretty good wisp of white, and hoisted it bravely betwixt gyved -feet, and at the little breach displayed it. And the soft breath of -May, which was wandering about, came and uncrinkled, and in little -tatters waved the universal symbol of Succession Apostolical, as well -as dinner-parties. - -Little Peggy happened at this moment to be staring, with a loose -uncertain glimpse of thought that somebody somewhere was calling her. -By the flutter of the white cravat, her wandering eyes were caught at -last, and fixed for a minute of deliberate growth of wonder. Not a -step towards that dreadful white ghost would she budge; but a -steadfast idea was implanted in her mind, and was likely to come up -very slowly. - -"It is waste of time; I have lost half an hour. The poor little -thing--I have only scared her. Now let me think what I ought to do -next." - -But even while he addressed himself to that very difficult problem, -Hardenow began to feel that he could not grapple with it. His mind was -as clear as ever, but his bodily strength was failing. He had often -fasted for a longer time, but never with his body invested thus, and -all his members straitened. The little girl sank from his weary eyes, -though he longed to know what would become of her; and he scarcely had -any perception at all of pigs that were going on after their manner, -and rabbits quite ready for their early dinner, the moment the sun -began to slope, and a fine cock partridge, who in his way was proud -because his wife had now laid a baker's dozen of eggs, and but for his -dissuasion would begin to sit to-morrow; and after that a round-nosed -hare, with a philoprogenitive forehead, but no clear idea yet of -leverets; and after that, as the shadows grew long, a cart, drawn by a -horse, as carts seem always to demand that they shall be--the horse of -a strong and incisive stamp (to use the two pet words of the day), the -cart not so very far behind him there, as they gave word to stop at -the gate to one another--and in the cart, and above the cart, and -driving both it and the horse thereof, as Abraham drove on the plain -of Mamre, Zacchary Cripps; and sitting at his side, the far-travelled -and accomplished Esther. - - - - -CHAPTER L. - -FEMININE ERROR. - - -Meanwhile, at Cross Duck House, ever since that interview of the -morning, things were becoming, from hour to hour, more critical and -threatening. If Mr. Sharp could only have believed that his son was -now a man, or at least should be treated as though he were; and if -after that the too active lawyer could only have conceived it possible -that some things might go on all the better without him; it is likely -enough that his righteous and gallant devices would have sped more -easily. - -But Luke Sharp had governed his own little world so long that he -scarcely could imagine serious rebellion. And he cared not to hide his -large contempt for the intellect of Christopher, or the grievance -which he had always felt--at being the father of a donkey. And so, -without further probation or pledge, he went forth to make his own -arrangements, leaving young Kit to his mother's charge, like a dummy, -to be stroked down and dressed. - -If he had left Kit but an hour before for his mother to tell him -everything, and round the corners, and smooth the levels, and wrap it -all up in delicious romance, as women do so easily, with their power -of believing whatever they wish, the boy might have jumped at the soft -sweet bait; for he verily loved his sylvan maid. But now all his -virtue and courage, and even temper, were on the outlook; and only one -thing more was needed to drive him to a desperate resolve. - -And that one thing was supplied, in the purest innocence, by Mrs. -Sharp; though the question would never have arisen if her son had been -left to her sole handling. - -"Then, mother, I suppose," said Kit as simply as if he smelled no rat -whatever, thoroughly as he understood that race, "if I should be -fortunate enough to marry beautiful Miss Oglander, we shall have to -live on bread and cheese, until it shall please the senior people to -be reconciled, and help us?" - -"No, Kit! What are you talking of, child? The lady has £20,000 of her -own! And £150,000 to follow, which nobody can take from her!" - -With a very heavy heart he turned away. Nothing more was required to -settle him. He saw the whole business of the plotting now; and the -young romance was out of it. He went to the bow-window looking on the -lane, and felt himself akin to a little ragamuffin, who was cheating -all the other boys at marbles. Hard bitterness and keen misery were -battling in his mind which should be the first to have its way and -speak. - -"This comes of being a lawyer's son!" he cried, turning round for one -bad glance at his mother. "She said that she disliked the law. I don't -dislike, I abhor it." - -"So you may, my dear boy, and welcome now. This will lift you -altogether beyond it. Your dear father may consider it his duty to -continue the office, and so on; but you will be a country gentleman, -Kit, with horses, and dogs, and Manton guns, and a pack of hounds, and -a long barouche, and hot-house grapes. And I will come and live with -you, my darling; or at least make our country house of it, and show -you how to manage things. For the whole world will be trying to cheat -you, Kit; you are too good-natured, and grand in your ways! You must -try to be a little sharper, darling, with that mint of money." - -"Must I? But suppose that I won't have it." - -"Sometimes I believe that you think it manly to provoke your mother. -The money ought to have been ours, Kit; mine by heritage and justice; -at least a year and a half ago. A moderate provision should have been -made for a woman, who may have her good points--though everybody has -failed to discover them--and who married with a view to jointure. Ten -thousand pounds would have been very handsome--far handsomer than she -ever was, poor thing!--and then by every law, human and divine, all -the rest must have come to you and me, my dear. Now, I hope that you -see things in their proper light." - -"Well, I dare say I do," he answered, with a little turn of sulkiness, -such as he often got when people could not understand him. "Mother, -you will allow me to have my own opinion; as you have yours." - -"Certainly, Kit! Of course, my dear. You know that you always have -been allowed extraordinary liberty in that way. No boy in any school -could have more; even where all the noblemen's sons are allowed to -make apple-pie beds for the masters. Every night, my dear boy, when -your father was away, it has rested with you, and you cannot deny it, -to settle to a nicety what there must be for supper." - -"Such trumpery stuff is not worth a thought. I am now like a fellow -divided in two. You might guess what I am about, a little. It is high -time for me to come forward. You cannot see things, perhaps, as I do. -How often must I tell you? I give you my word as a gentleman--all this -is exceedingly trying." - -"Of course it is, Kit; of course it is. What else could be expected of -it? But still, we must all of us go through trials; and then we come -out purified." - -"Not if we made them for ourselves, mother; and made them particularly -dirty ones. But I cannot talk of it; what do I know? A lot of things -come tempting me. Everybody laughs at me for wondering what my mind -is. And everybody cheats me, as you said. Let the governor carry on -his own devices. I have made up my mind to consider a good deal, and -behave then according to circumstances." - -"You will behave, I trust, exactly as your parents wish. They have -seen so much more of the world than you have; they are far better -judges of right and wrong; and their only desire is your highest -interest. You will break your poor mother's heart, dear Kit, if you do -anything foolish now." - -The latter argument had much more weight with young Sharp than the -former; but pledging himself as yet to nothing, he ran away to his own -room to think; while his mother, with serious misgivings, went down to -see about the soup, and hurry on the dinner. She knew that in vaunting -Miss Oglander's wealth she had done the very thing she was ordered not -to do, and she was frightened at the way in which her son had taken -it. - -Mr. Sharp did not come home to their early dinner at half-past one -o'clock; indeed, his wife did not expect him much; and his son was -delighted not to see him. Kit sat heavily, but took his food as usual. -The condition of his mind might be very sad indeed, but his body was -not to be driven thereby to neglect the duties of its own department. -He helped his dear mother to some loin of mutton; and when she only -played with it, and her knife and fork were trembling, he was angered, -and his eyes sought hers; and she tried to look at him and smile, but -made a wretched job of it. Christopher reserved his opinion about -this; but it did not help in any way to impair his resolution. - -For dessert they had a little dish of strawberries from pot-plants in -the greenhouse; and as they were the first of the season, the young -fellow took to them rather greedily. His mother was charmed with this -condescension, and urged him so well that in about three minutes the -shining red globes ticked with gold were represented by a small, -ignoble pile of frilled stalks blurred with pink. At this moment in -walked the master of the house. - -He had been as fully occupied as a certain unobtrusive, but never -inactive, gentleman, proverbially must be in a gale of wind. The day -was unusually warm for the May month, and the streets of Oxford dusty. -Mr. Sharp had been working a roundabout course, and working it very -rapidly; he had managed to snatch at a sandwich or two--for he could -not go long without nourishment--but throughout all his haste he had -given himself, with the brightest vision of refreshing joy, just time -to catch these strawberries. At least he was sure of it. But now, -where were they? - -"Ah, I see you know how to snap up a good thing!" cried the lawyer, -with a glance of contempt and wrath; "show the same promptitude in -what has been arranged for your benefit this afternoon, my boy; and -then you will be, in earnest, what you put on your dogs' collars." - -This was not the way to treat Kit Sharp; but the lawyer never could -resist a sneer, even when his temper was at its best, which it -certainly was not just now. - -Kit looked a little ashamed for a moment, but made no excuse for his -greediness; he was sure that his mother would do that best. By this -time he had resolved to avoid, for the present, all further dispute -with his father. Whatever was arranged for him he would do his best to -accept, with one condition--that he should be allowed to see the young -lady first, and test her good-will towards him, before her "removal" -(as Mr. Sharp mildly called it) was attempted. His sanguine young -heart had long been doing its utmost to convince him that this -sweet-tempered and simple maid could never bring herself to the -terrible cruelty of rejecting him. He felt how unworthy he was; but -still so was everybody else--especially the villain with the four bay -horses: from that scoundrel he would save her, even if he had to -dissemble more than he ever had done before. - -Luke Sharp, with his eyes fixed on his son in lofty contemplation, -beheld (as through a grand microscope) these despicable little -reasonings. To argue with Kit was more foolish than filing a -declaration against a man of straw. To suppose that Kit would ever -really rebel was more absurd than to imagine that a case would be -decided upon its merits. "So be it," he said; "but of course, even you -would never be quite such a fool as to tell her what your father and -mother have done for her good." - -There still was a little to be done, and some nicety of combination to -see to; and after a short consultation with his wife, and particular -instructions as to management of Kit, Mr. Sharp rode off on his own -stout horse, with a heavily loaded whip and a brace of pistols, -because there were some rogues about. - - - - -CHAPTER LI. - -UNFILIAL. - - -"At seven o'clock all must be ready," said Mr. Sharp, towards the -close of a hurried conversation with Miss Patch, Grace Oglander being -sent out of the way, according to established signal; "there is no -time to lose, and no ladies' tricks of unpunctuality, if you please. -We must have day-light for these horrid forest-roads, and time it so -as to get into the London road about half-past eight. We must be in -London by two in the morning; the horses, and all that will be -forthcoming. Kit rides outside, and I follow on horse-back. Hannah, -why do you hesitate?" - -"Because I cannot--I cannot go away, without having seen that Jesuit -priest in the pig-net wallowing. It is such a grand providential -work--the arm of the Lord has descended from heaven, and bound him in -his own meshes. Luke, I beg you, I implore you--I can pack up -everything in an hour--do not rob me of a sight like that." - -"Hannah, are you mad? You have never been allowed to go near that -place, and you never shall!" - -"Well, you know best; but it does seem very cruel, after all the lack -of grace I have borne with here, to miss the great Protestant work -thus accomplished. But suppose that the child should refuse to come -with us--we have no letters now, nor any other ministration." - -"We have no time now for such trumpery; we must carry things now with -a much higher hand. Everything hangs upon the next few hours; and by -this time to-morrow night all shall be safe: Kit and the girl gone for -their honeymoon, and you sitting under the most furious dustman that -ever thumped a cushion." - -"Oh, Luke, how can you speak as if you really had no reverence?" - -"Because there is no time for such stuff now. We have the strength, -and we must use it. Just go and get ready. I must ride to meet my -people. The girl, I suppose, is with Kit by this time. What a pair of -nincompoops they will be!" - -"I am sure they will be a very pretty pair--so far as poor sinful -exterior goes--and, what is of a thousand-fold more importance, their -worldly means will be the means of grace to hundreds of our poor -fellow-creatures, who, because their skin is of a different tint, and -in their own opinion a finer one, are debarred----" - -"Now, Hannah, no time for that. Get ready. And mind that there must be -no feminine weakness if circumstances should compel us to employ a -little compulsion. Call to your mind that the Lord is with us; the -sword of the Lord and of Gideon." - -Pleased with his knowledge of Holy Writ, he went to the place where -his horse was tied, and there he found a man with a message for him, -which he just stopped to hearken. - -"As loovin' as a pair o' toortle doves; he hath a-got her by the -middle; as sweet as my missus were to me, afore us went to church -togither!" Black George had been set to watch Kit and Gracie, during -their private interview, lest any precaution should be overlooked. - -"Right! Here's a guinea for you, my man. Now, you know what to do till -I come back--to stay where you are, and keep a sharp look-out. Can the -fool in the net do without any water? Very well, after dark, give him -some food, bandage his eyes, and walk him to and fro, and let him go -in Banbury. - -"All right, governor. A rare bait he shall have of it, with a little -swim in the canal, to clane un." - -"No hardship, no cruelty!" cried Mr. Sharp, with his finger to his -forehead, as he rode away; "only a little wise discipline to lead him -into closer attention to his own affairs." - -Black George looked after his master with a grin of admiration. "He -sticketh at nort," said George to himself, as he began to fill a grimy -pipe; "he sticketh at nort no more than I would. And with all that -house and lands to back un! Most folk with money got no pluck left, -for thinking of others as owneth the same. I'll be danged if he -dothn't carry on as bold as if he slep' in a rabbit-hole." With these -words he sat down to watch the house, according to his orders. - -But this man's description of what he had seen in the wood was not a -correct one--much as he meant to speak the truth--for many reasons, -and most of all this: that he ran away before the end of it. It was a -pretty and a moving scene; but the rabbit-man cared a great deal more -for the pipe, which he could not smoke in this duty, and the guinea -which he hoped to get out of it. And it happened, as near as one can -tell, on this wise: - -Grace Oglander, came down the winding wooded path, with her heart -pit-a-patting at every step, because she was ordered to meet somebody. -An idea of that kind did not please her. A prude, or a prim, she would -never wish to be; and a little bit of flirting had been a great -relief, and a pleasant change in her loneliness. But to bring matters -to so stern a point, and have to say what she meant to say, in as few -words as possible, and then walk off--these strong measures were not -to her liking, because she was a most kind-hearted girl, and had much -good-will towards Christopher. - -Kit on the other hand, came along fast, with a resolute brow and firm -heavy stride. He had made up his mind to be wretched for life, if the -heart upon which he had set his own should refuse to throb -responsively. But whatever his fate might be, he would tread the -highest path of generosity, chivalry, and honour; and this resolution -was well set forth in the following nervous and pathetic lines, found -in his blotting-paper after his untimely--but stay, let us not -anticipate. These words had been watered with a flood of tears. - - "C. F. S. TO MISS G. O. - - Say that happier mortal woos thee, - Say that nobler knight pursues thee, - While this blighted being teareth - All the festive robes it weareth, - While this dead heart splits to lose thee-- - Ah, could I so misuse thee? - Though this bosom, rent by thunder, - Crash its last hope anchor'd in thee; - Liefer would I groan thereunder, - Than by falsehood win thee!" - -And now they met in a gentle place, roofed with leaves, and floored -with moss, and decorated with bluebells. The chill of the earth was -gone by and forgotten, and the power of the sky come back again; -stately tree, and graceful bush, and brown depths of tangled -prickliness--everything having green life in it--was spreading its -green, and proud of it. Under this roof, and in these halls of bright -young verdure, the youth and the maid came face to face befittingly. -Grace, as bright as a rose, and flushing with true tint of wild rose, -drew back and bowed, and then, perceiving serious hurt of Christopher, -kindly offered a warm white hand--a delicious touch for any one. Kit -laid hold of this and kept it, though with constant fear of doing more -than was established, and, trying to look firm and overpowering, led -the fair young woman to a trunk of fallen oak. - -Here they both sat down; and Grace was not so far as she could wish -from yielding to a little kind of trembling which arose in her. She -glanced at Kit sideways whenever she felt that he could not be looking -at her; and she kept her wise eyes mainly downward whenever they -seemed to be wanted--not that she could not look up and speak, only -that she would rather wait until there was no other help for it; and -as for that, she felt no fear, being sure that he was afraid of her. -Kit, on the other hand, was full of fear, and did all he could in the -craftiest manner to make his love look up at him. He could not tell -how she might take his tale; but he knew by instinct that his eyes -would help him where his tongue might fail. At last he said-- - -"Now, will you promise faithfully not to be angry with me?" - -"Oh yes, oh yes--to be sure," said Grace; "why should I be angry?" - -"Because I can't help it--I give you my honour. I have tried very -hard, but I cannot help it." - -"Then who could be angry with you, unless it was something very -wicked?" - -"It is not very wicked, it is very good--too good for me, a great -deal, I am afraid." - -"There cannot be many things too good for you; you are simple, and -brave, and gentle." - -"But this is too good for me, ever so much, because it is your own -dear self." - -Grace was afraid that this was coming; and now she lifted her soft -blue eyes and looked at him quite tenderly, and yet so directly and -clearly that he knew in a moment what she had for him--pity, and -trust, and liking; but of heart's love not one atom. - -"I know what you mean," he whispered sadly, with his bright young face -cast down. "I cannot think what can have made me such a fool. Only -please to tell me one thing. Has there been any chap in front of me?" - -"How can I tell what you mean?" asked Grace; but her colour showed -that she could guess. - -"I must not ask who it is, of course. Only say it's not the swell that -drives the four bay horses." - -"I do not know any one that drives four bay horses. And now I think -that I had better go. Only, as I cannot ever meet you any more, I must -try to tell you that I like you very much, and never shall forget what -I owe to you; and I hope you will very soon recover from this--this -little disappointment; and my dear father, as soon as we return to -England--for I must go to fetch him----" - -"Grace--oh, let me call you 'Grace' once or twice, it can't matter -here in the middle of the wood--Grace, I was so taken up with myself, -and full of my miserable folly, which of course I ought to have known -better----" - -"I must not stop to hear any more. There is my hand--yes, of course -you may kiss it, after all that you have done for me." - -"I am going to do a great deal more for you," cried Kit, quite carried -away with the yielding kindness of lovely fingers. "For your sake I am -going to injure and disgrace my own father--though the Lord knows the -shame is of his own making. It is my father who has kept you here; and -to-night he is going to carry you off. Miss Patch is only a tool of -his. Your own father knows not a word about it. He believes you to be -dead and buried. Your tombstone is set up at Beckley, and your father -goes and cries over it." - -"But his letters--his letters from Demerara? Oh! my head swims round! -Let me hold by this tree for a moment!" - -Kit threw his arm round her delicate waist to save her from falling; -and away crept George, who had lurked behind a young birch-tree too -far off to hear their words. - -"You must rouse up your courage," said Kit, with a yearning gaze at -his sweet burden, yet taking no advantage of her. "Rouse up your -courage, and I will do my best to save you from myself. It is very -hard--it is cruelly cruel, and nobody will thank me!" - -"His letters from Demerara!" cried Grace, having scarcely heard a word -he said. "How could he have written them? You must be wrong." - -"Of such letters I have never heard. I suppose they must have been -forgeries. I give you my word that your father has been the whole of -the time at Beckley, and a great deal too ill to go from home." - -"Too ill!--my father? Yes, of course--of course! How could he help -being ill without me? And he thinks I am dead? Oh! he thinks that I am -dead! I wonder that he could dare to be alive. But let me try to think -a little." - -She tottered back to the old stump of the tree, and sat down there, -and burst forth into an extraordinary gush of weeping: more sad and -pitiful tears had never watered an innocent face before. "Let me -cry!--let me cry!" was her only answer when the young man clumsily -tried to comfort. - -Kit got up and strode about; his indignation at her deep low sobs, and -her brilliant cheeks like a river's bed, and her rich hair dabbled -like drifted corn, and above all the violent pain which made her lay -both hands to her heart and squeeze--his wrath made him long to knock -down people entitled to his love and reverence. He knew that her heart -was quite full of her father in all his long desolation, and was -making a row of pictures of him in deepening tribulation; but a girl -might go on like that for ever; a man must take the lead of her. - -"If you please, Miss Oglander," he said, going up and lifting both her -hands, and making her look up at him, "you have scarcely five minutes -to make up your mind whether you wish to save your father, or to be -carried away from him." - -Grace in confusion and fear looked up. All about herself she had -forgotten; she had even forgotten that Kit was near; she was only -pondering slowly now--as the mind at most critical moments does--some -straw of a trifle that blew across. - -"Do you care to save your father's life?" asked Kit, rather sternly, -not seeing in the least the condition of her mind, but wondering at -it. "If you do, you must come with me, this moment, down the hill, -down the hill, as fast as ever you can. I know a place where they can -never find us. We must hide there till dark, and then I will take you -to Beckley." - -But the young lady's nerves would not act at command. The shock and -surprise had been too severe. All she could do was to gaze at Kit, -with soft imploring eyes, that tried to beg pardon for her -helplessness. - -"If we stay here another minute, you are lost!" cried Kit, as he heard -the sound of the carriage-wheels near the cottage, on the rise above -them. "One question only--will you trust me?" - -She moved her pale lips to say "yes," and faintly lifted one hand to -him. Kit waited for no other sign, but caught her in his sturdy arms, -and bore her down the hill as fast as he could go, without scratching -her snow-white face, or tearing the arm which hung on his shoulder. - - - - -CHAPTER LII. - -UNPATERNAL. - - -Meanwhile, Mr. Sharp had his forces ready, and was waiting for Grace -and Christopher. Cinnaminta's good Uncle Kershoe (who spent half of -his useful time in stealing horses, and the other half in disguising -and disposing of them), although he might not have desired to show -himself so long before the moonlight, yet, true to honour, here he -was, blinking beneath a three-cornered hat, like a grandly respectable -coachman. The carriage was drawn up in a shady place, quite out of -sight from the windows; and the horses, having very rare experience of -oats, were embracing a fine opportunity. In picturesque attitudes of -tobacconizing--if the depth of the wood covers barbarism--three fine -fellows might now be seen; to wit, Black George, Joe Smith, and that -substantial householder, Tickuss Cripps. In the chaise sat a lady of -comfortable aspect, though fidgeting now with fat, well-gloved hands. -Mrs. Sharp had begged not to have to stop at home and wonder what -might be doing with her own Kit: and the case being now one of "neck -or nothing," her husband had let her come, foreseeing that she might -be of use with Grace Oglander. For the moment, however, she looked -more likely to need attendance for herself; for she kept glancing -round towards the cottage-door, while her plump and still comely -cheeks were twitching, and tears of deep thought about the merits of -her son held her heart in quick readiness to be up and help them. Once -Mr. Sharp, whose main good point, among several others, was affection -for his wife, rode up, and in a playful manner tickled her nose with -the buckskin loop of his loaded whip, and laughed at her. She felt how -kind it was of him, but her smile was only feeble. - -"Now mind, dear," said Mr. Sharp, reining his horse (as strong as an -oak and as bright as a daisy), "feel no anxiety about me. You have -plenty of nourishment in your three bags; keep them all alive with it. -Everything is mapped out perfectly. Near Wycombe, without rousing any -landlord, you have a fresh pair of horses. In a desert place called -the 'New Road,' in London, I meet you and take charge of you." - -"May Kit have his pipe on the box? I am sure it will make him go so -much sweeter." - -"Fifty, if he likes. You put his sealskin pouch in. You think of every -one before yourself." - -"But can I get on with that dreadful woman? Don't you think she will -preach me to death, Luke?" - -"Miranda, my dear, you are talking loosely. You forget the great gift -that you possess--the noblest endowment of the nobler sex. You can -sleep whenever you like, and do it without even a suspicion of a -snore. It is the very finest form of listening. Good-bye! You will be -a most happy party. When once I see you packed, I shall spur on in -front." - -Mr. Sharp kissed his hand, and rode back to the cottage. Right well he -knew what a time ladies take to put their clothes upon them; and the -more grow the years of their practice in the art, the longer grow the -hours needful. Still he thought Miss Patch had been quite long enough. -But what could he say, when he saw her at her window, with the -looking-glass sternly set back upon the drawers, lifting her hands in -short prayer to the Lord: as genuine a prayer as was ever tried. She -was praying for a blessing on this new adventure, and that all might -lead up to the glory of the Kingdom; she besought to be relieved at -last from her wearying instrumentality. Mr. Sharp still had some -little faith left--for he was a man of much good feeling--and he did -not scoff at his sister's prayer, as a man of low nature might have -done. - -Nevertheless he struck up with his whip at the ivy round her bedroom -window, to impress the need of brevity; and the lady, though shocked -at the suggestion of curtailment, did curtail immediately. In less -than five minutes, she was busy at the doorway, seeing to the exit of -everything; and presently, with very pious precision, she gave Mrs. -Margery Daw half a crown, and a tract which some friend should read to -her, after rubbing her glands with a rind of bacon, and a worn-out -pocket-handkerchief, which had belonged to the mighty Rowland Hill, -whose voice went three miles and a half. - -Then Miss Patch (with her dress tucked up, and her spectacles at their -brightest) marched, with a copy of the Scriptures borne prominently -forward, and the tags of her cloak doubled up on her arm, towards the -carriage, where Grace must be waiting for her. The sloping of the -sunset threw her shadow, and the ring-doves in the wood were cooing. -The peace and the beauty touched even her heart; and the hushing of -the winds of evening in the nestling of the wood appeased the ruffled -mind to that simplicity of childhood, where God and good are one. - -But just as she was shaking hands benevolently with Mrs. Sharp, before -getting into the carriage, back rode Mr. Sharp at full gallop, and -without any ceremony shouted, "Where's the girl?" - -"Miss Oglander! Why, I thought she was here!" Hannah Patch answered, -with a little gasp. - -"And I thought she was coming with you," cried Mrs. Sharp; "as well as -my dear boy, Christopher." - -"I let her go to meet him as you arranged," Miss Patch exclaimed -decisively; "I had nothing to do with her after that." - -"Is it possible that the boy has rogued me?" As Mr. Sharp said these -few words, his face took a colour never seen before, even by his -loving wife: The colour was, a livid purple, and it made his sparkling -eyes look pale. - -"They must be at the cottage," Mrs. Sharp suggested; "let me go to -look for the naughty young couple." - -The lawyer had his reasons for preventing this, as well as for keeping -himself where he was; and therefore at a sign from him, Miss Patch -turned back, and set off with all haste for the cottage. No sooner had -she turned the corner, than Joe Smith, the tall gipsy, emerged from -the wood with long strides into the road, and beckoned to Mr. Sharp -urgently. The lawyer was with him in a moment, and almost struck him -in his fury at what he heard. - -"How could you allow it? You great tinkering fool! Run to the corner -where the two lanes meet. Take George with you. I will ride straight -down the road. No, stop, cut the traces of those two horses! You jump -on one, and Black George on the other, and off for the Corner full -gallop! You ought to be there before the cart. I will ride straight -for that rotten old jolter! Zounds, is one man to beat five of us?" -Waiting for no answer, he struck spurs into his horse, and, stooping -over the withers, dashed into a tangled alley, which seemed to lead -towards the timber-track. - -No wonder Mr. Sharp was in such a rage, for what had happened was -exactly this--only much of it happened with more speed than words:-- - -Cripps, the Carrier, had been put up by several friends and relations -(especially Numbers, the butcher, who missed the pork trade of -Leviticus) to bring things directly to a point, instead of letting -them go on, in a way which was neither one thing nor the other. -Confessing all the claims of duty, poor Zacchary only asked how he -could discharge them. He had done his very best, and he had found out -nothing. If any one could tell him what more to do, he would wear out -his Sunday shoes to thank them. - -"Brother Zak," said Mrs. Numbers, with a feeling which in a less loyal -family would have been contempt, "have you set a woman to work; now, -have you?" - -Every Cripps present was struck with this, and most of all the -Carrier. Mrs. Numbers herself was quite ready to go, but a feud had -arisen betwixt her and Susannah, as to whether three-holed or -four-holed buttons cut the cotton faster; and therefore the Carrier -resolved to take his own sister Etty, who never quarrelled. It was -found out that she required change of air, and, indeed, she had been -rather delicate ever since her long sad task at Shotover. Now, -Leviticus durst not refuse to receive her, much as he disliked the -plan. The girl went without any idea of playing spy; all she knew was -that her brother was suspected of falling into low company, and she -was to put him on his mettle, if she could. - -Hence it was that Hardenow, gazing betwixt the two feather-edged -boards, beheld--just before he lost his wits--the honoured vehicle of -Cripps, with empty washing baskets standing, on its welcome homeward -road, to discharge the fair Etty at her brother's gate. Tickuss was -away upon Mr. Sharp's business, and Zacchary, through a grand sense of -honour, would not take advantage of the chance by going in. Craft and -wickedness might be in full play with them, but a wife should on no -account be taken unawares, and tempted to speak outside her duty. - -Therefore the Carrier kissed his sister in the soft gleam of the -sunset-clouds, and refusing so much as a glass of ale, touched up -Dobbin with a tickle of the whip; and that excellent nag (after -looking round for oats in a dream, which his common sense premised to -be too sanguine) brushed all his latter elegances with his tail, and -fetching round his blinkers a most sad adieu to Esther, gave a little -grunt at fortune and resignedly set off. Alas, when he grunted at a -light day's work, how little did he guess what unparalleled exertions -parted him yet from his stable for the night! - -For while Master Cripps, with an equable mind, was jogging it gently -on the silent way, and (thinking how lonely his cottage would be -without Esther) was balancing in his mind the respective charms of his -three admirers, Mary Hookham, Mealy Hiss, and Sally Brown of the -Golden Cross, and sadly concluding that he must make up his mind to -one of the three ere long--suddenly he beheld a thing which frightened -him more than a dozen wives. - -Cripps was come to a turn of the track--for it scarcely could be -called a road--and was sadly singing to Dobbin and himself that -exquisite elegiac-- - - "Needles and pins, needles and pins, - When a man marries, his trouble begins!" - -Dobbin also, though he never had been married, was trying to keep time -to this tune, as he always did to sound sentiments; when the two of -them saw a sight that came, like a stroke for profanity, over them. - -Directly in front of them, from a thick bush, sprang a beautiful girl -into the middle of the lane, and spread out her hand to stop them. If -the evening light had been a little paler, or even the moon had been -behind her, a ghost she must have been then, and for ever. Cripps -stared as if he would have no eyes any more; but Dobbin had received a -great many comforts from the little hands spread out to him; and he -stopped and sniffed, and lifted up his nose (now growing more -decidedly aquiline) that it might be stroked, and even possibly -regaled with a bunch of white-blossomed clover. - -"Oh, Cripps, good Cripps, you dear old Cripps!" Grace Oglander cried -with great tears in her eyes, "you never have forgotten me, Zacchary -Cripps? They say that I am dead and buried. It isn't true, not a word -of it! Dear Cripps, I am as sound alive as you are. Only I have been -shamefully treated! Do let me get up in your cart, good Cripps, and my -father will thank you for ever!" - -"But, Missy, poor Missy," Cripps stammered out, drawing on his heart -for every word, "you was buried on the seventh day of January, in the -year of our Lord, 1838; three pickaxes was broken over digging of your -grave, by reason of the frosty weather; and all of us come to your -funeral! Do 'ee go back, miss, that's a dear! The churchyard to -Beckley is a comfortable place, and this here wood no place for a -Christian." - -"But, Cripps, dear Cripps, do try to let me speak! They might have -broken thirty pickaxes, but I had nothing at all to do with it. May I -get up? Oh, may I get up? It is the only chance of saving me. I hear a -horse tearing through the wood! Oh, dear, clever Cripps, you will -repent it for the rest of all your life. Even Dobbin is sharper than -you are." - -"You blessed old ass!" cried a stern young voice, as Kit Sharp (who -had meant not to show) rushed forward, "there is no time for your -heavy brain to work. You shall have the young lady, dead or alive! -Pardon me, Grace--no help for it. Now, thick-headed bumpkin, put one -arm round her, and off at full gallop with your old screw! If you give -her up I will hang you by the neck to the tail of your broken -rattletrap!" - -"Oh, Cripps, dear Cripps, I assure you on my honour," said Grace, as -tossed up by her lover, she sat in the seat of Esther, "I have never -been dead any more than you have. I can't tell you now; oh, drive on, -drive, if you have a spark of manhood in you!" - -A horse and horseman came out of the wood, about fifty yards behind -them, and Grace would have fallen headlong, but for the half-reluctant -arm of Cripps, as Dobbin with a jump (quite unknown in his very first -assay of harness) set off full gallop over rut and rock, with a blow -on his back, from the fist of Kit, like the tumble of a chimney-pot. - -Then Christopher Sharp, after one sad look at Grace Oglander's flying -figure, turned round to confront his father. - -"What means all this?" cried the lawyer fiercely, being obliged to -rein up his horse, unless he would trample Kit underfoot. - -"It means this," answered his son, with firm gaze, and strong grasp of -his bridle, "that you have made a great mistake, sir--that you must -give up your plan altogether--that the poor young lady who has been so -deceived----" - -"Let go my bridle, will you? Am I to stop here--to be baffled by you? -Idiot, let go my bridle!" - -"Father, you shall not--for your own sake, you shall not! I may be an -idiot, but I will not be a blackguard----" - -"If by the time I have counted three, your hand is on my bridle, I -will knock you down, and ride over you!" - -Their eyes met in furious conflict of will, the elder man's glaring -with the blaze of an opal, the younger one's steady with a deep brown -glow. - -"Strike me dead, if you choose!" said Kit, as his father raised his -arm, with the loaded whip swinging, and counted, "One, two, -three!"--then the crashing blow fell on the naked temple; and it was -not needed twice. - -Dashing the rowels into his horse (whose knees struck the boy in the -chest as he fell, and hurled him among the bushes), the lawyer, -without even looking round, rode madly after Zacchary. Dobbin had won -a good start by this time, and was round the corner, doing great -wonders for his time of life--tossing the tubs, and the baskets, and -Grace, and even the sturdy Carrier, like fritters in a pan, while the -cart leaped and plunged, and the spokes of the wheels went round too -fast to be counted. Cripps tugged at Dobbin with all his might; but -for the first time in his life, the old horse rebelled, and flung on -at full speed. - -"He knoweth best, miss; he knoweth best," cried Zacchary, while Grace -clung to him; "he hath a divination of his own, if he dothn't kick the -cart to tatters. But never would I turn tail on a single man--who is -yon chap riding after us?" - -"Oh, Cripps, it is that dreadful man," whispered Grace, with her teeth -jerking into her tongue; "who has kept me in prison, and perhaps -killed my father! Oh, Dobbin, sweet Dobbin, try one more gallop, and -you shall have clover for ever!" - -Poor Dobbin responded with his best endeavour; but, alas! his old -feet, and his legs, and his breath were not as in the palmy days; and -a long shambling trot, with a canter for a change, were the utmost he -could compass. He wagged his grey tail, in brief expostulation, -conveying that he could go no faster. - -"Now for it," said Cripps, as the foe overhauled them. "I never was -afeard of one man yet! and I don't mane to begin at this time of life. -Missy, go down into the body of the cart. Her rideth aisily enough by -now; and cover thee up with the bucking-baskets. Cripps will take thee -to thy father, little un. Never fear, my deary!" - -She obeyed him by jumping back into the cart--but as for hiding in a -basket, Grace had a little too much of her father's spirit. The -weather was so fine that no tilt was on; she sat on the rail there, -and faced her bitter foe. - -"That child is my ward!" shouted Mr. Sharp, riding up to the side of -Cripps; while his eyes passed on from Grace's; "give her up to me this -moment, fellow! I can take her by law of the land; and I will!" - -"Liar Sharp," answered Master Cripps, desiring to address him -professionally, "this here young lady belongeth to her father; and no -man else shall have her. Any reasoning thou hast to come down with, us -will hearken, as we goes along; if so be that thou keepest to a civil -tongue. But high words never bate me down one penny; and never shall -do so, while the Lord is with me." - -"Hark you, Cripps," replied Mr. Sharp, putting his lips to the -Carrier's ear; and whispering so that Grace could only guess at -enormous sums of money (which sums began doubling at every -breath)--"down on the nail, and no man the wiser!" - -"But the devil a great deal the wiser," said the Carrier, grinning -gently, as if he saw the power of evil fleeing away in discomfiture. -"Now Liar Sharp hath outwitted hisself. What Liar would offer such a -sight of money for what were his own by the lai of the land?" - -"You cursed fool, will you die?" cried Sharp, drawing and cocking a -great horse-pistol; "your blood be on your head--then yield!" - -Cripps, with great presence of mind, made believe for a moment to -surrender, till Mr. Sharp lowered his weapon, and came up to stop the -cart, and to take out Grace. In a moment, the Carrier, with a -wonderful stroke, learned from long whip-wielding, fetched down his -new lash on the eyeball of the young and ticklish horse of the lawyer. -Mad with pain and rage, the horse stood up as straight as a soldier -drilling, and balanced on the turn to fall back, break his spine, and -crush his rider. Luke Sharp in his peril slipped off, and the -cart-wheel comfortably crunched over his left foot. His pistol-bullet -whizzed through a tall old tree. He stood on one foot, and swore -horribly. - -"Gee wugg, Dobbin," said Cripps, in a cheerful, but not by any means -excited, vein; "us needn't gallop any more now, I reckon. The Liar -hath put his foot in it. Plaize now, Miss Grace, come and sit to front -again." - -"We shall have you yet, you d----d old clod!" Mr. Sharp in his rage -yelled after him; "oh, I'll pay you out for this devil's own trick! -You aren't come to the Corner yet." - -"Ho, ho!" shouted Cripps; "Liar Sharp, my duty to you! You don't catch -me goin' to the Corner, sir, if some of the firm be awaitin' for me -there." - -With these words he gaily struck off to the right, through a by-lane, -unknown, but just passable, where the sound of his wheels was no -longer heard, and the mossy boughs closed over him. Grace clung to his -arm; and glory and gladness filled the simple heart of Cripps. - -Meanwhile Mr. Sharp, who had stuck to his bridle, limped to his horse, -but could not mount. Then he drew forth the other pistol from the near -holster, and cocked it and levelled it at Cripps; but thanks to brave -Dobbin, now the distance was too great; and he kept the charge for -nobler use. - - - - -CHAPTER LIII. - -"THIS WILL DO." - - -Mr. Sharp's young horse, being highly fed and victualled for the long -ride to London, and having been struck in the eye unjustly, and jarred -in the brain by the roar of a pistol and whizz of a bullet between his -pricked ears, was now in a state of mind which offered no fair field -for pure reasoning process. A better-disposed horse was never foaled; -and possibly none--setting Dobbin aside, as the premier and quite -unapproachable type--who took a clearer view of his duties to the -provider of corn, hay, and straw, and was more ready to face and -undergo all proper responsibilities. - -Therefore he cannot be fairly blamed, and not a pound should be -deducted from his warrantable value, simply because he now did what -any other young horse in the world would have felt to be right. He -stared all around to ask what was coming next, and he tugged on the -bridle, with his fore-feet out, as a leverage against injustice, and -his hind-legs spread wide apart, like a merry-thought, ready to hop -anywhere. At the same time he stared with great terrified eyes, now at -the man who had involved him in these perils, and now at the darkening -forest which might hold even worse in the background. - -Mr. Sharp was not in the mood for coaxing, or any conciliation. His -left foot was crushed so that he could only hop, and to put it to the -ground was agony; his own son had turned against him; and a -contemptible clod had outwitted him; disgrace, and ruin, and death -stared at him; and here was his favourite horse a rebel! He fixed his -fierce eyes on the eyes of the horse, and fairly quelled him with -fury. The eyes of the horse shrank back, and turned, and trembled, and -blinked, and pleaded softly, and then absolutely fawned. Being a very -intelligent nag, he was as sure as any sound Christian of the -personality of the devil--and, far worse than that, of his presence -now before him. - -He came round whinnying to his master's side, as gentle as a lamb, and -as abject as a hang-dog; he allowed the lame lawyer to pick up his -whip, and to lash him on his poor back, without a wince, and to lead -him (when weary of that) to a stump, from which he was able to mount -again. - -"Thank you, you devil," cried Mr. Sharp, giving his good horse another -swinging lash; "it is hopeless altogether to ride after the cart. That -part of the play is played out and done with. The pious papa and the -milk-and-water missy rush into each other's arms. And as for me--well, -well, I have learned to make a horse obey me. Now, sir, if you please, -we will join the ladies--gently, because of your master's foot." - -He rode back quietly along the track over which he had chased the -Carrier's cart; and his foot was now in such anguish that the whole of -his wonderful self-command was needed to keep him silent. He set his -hard lips, and his rigid nose was drawn as pale as parchment, and the -fire of his eyes died into the dulness of universal rancour. No -hard-hearted man can find his joy in the sweet soft works of nature, -any more than the naked flint nurses flowers. The beauty of the young -May twilight flowing through the woven wood, and harbouring, like a -blue bloom, here and there, in bays of verdure; while upward all the -great trees reared their domes once more in summer roofage, and -stopped out the heavens; while in among them, finding refuge, birds -(before the dark fell on them) filled the world with melody; and all -the hushing rustle of the well-earned night was settling down--through -all of these rode Mr. Sharp, and hated every one of them. - -Presently his horse gave a little turn of head, but was too cowed down -to shy again; and a tall woman, darkly clad, was standing by the -timber track, with one hand up to catch his eyes. - -"You here, Cinnaminta!" cried the lawyer with surprise. "I have no -time now. What do you want with me?" - -"I want you to see the work of your hand--your only child, dead by -your own blow!" - -Struck with cold horror, he could not speak. But he reeled in the -saddle, with his hand on his heart, and stared at Cinnaminta. - -"It is true," she said softly; "come here and see it. Even for you, -Luke Sharp, I never could have wished a sight like this. You have -ruined my life; you have made my people thieves; the loss of my -children lies on you. But to see your only son murdered by yourself is -too bad even for such as you." - -"I never meant it--I never dreamed it--God is my witness that I never -did. I thought his head was a great deal thicker." - -Sneerer as he was, he meant no jest now. He simply spoke the earnest -truth. In his passion he had struck men before, and knocked them down, -with no great harm; he forgot his own fury in this one blow, and the -weight of his heavily-loaded whip. - -"If you cannot believe," she answered sternly, supposing him to be -jeering still, "you had better come here. He was a kind, good lad, -good to me, and to my last child. I have made him look very nice. Will -you come? Or will you go and tell his mother?" - -Luke Sharp looked at her in the same sort of way in which many of his -victims had looked at him. Then he touched his horse gently, having -had too much of rage, and allowed him to take his own choice of way. - -The poor horse, having had a very bad time of it, made the most of -this privilege. Setting an example to mankind (whose first thought is -not sure to be of home) the poor fellow pointed the white star on his -forehead towards his distant stable. Oxford was many a bad mile away, -but his heart was set upon being there. Sleepily therefore he jogged -along, having never known such a day of it. - -While he thought of his oat-sieve sweetly, and nice little nibbles at -his clover hay, and the comfortable soothing of his creased places by -a man who would sing a tune to him, his rider was in a very different -case, without one hope to turn to. - -The rising of the moon to assuage the earth of all the long sun fever, -the spread of dewy light, and quivering of the nerves of shadow, and -then the soft, unfeatured beauty of the dim tranquillity, coming over -Luke Sharp's road, or flitting on his face, what difference could they -make to its white despair? He hated light, he loathed the shade, he -scorned the meekness of the dapple, and he cursed the darkness. - -Out of sight of the road, and yet within a level course of it, there -lay, to his knowledge, a deep, and quiet, and seldom-troubled -forest-pool. This had long been in his mind, and coming to the -footpath now, he drew his bridle towards it. - -The moon was here fenced out by trees, and thickets of blackthorn, and -ivy hanging like a funeral pall. Except that here at the lip of -darkness, one broad beam of light stole in, and shivered on gray boles -of willow, and quivered on black lustrous smoothness of contemptuous -water. - -To the verge of this water Luke Sharp rode, with his horse prepared -for anything. He swept with his keen eyes all the length of liquid -darkness, ebbing into blackness in the distance. And he spoke his last -words--"This will do." - -Then he drove his horse into the margin of the pool, till the water -was up to the girths, and the broad beams of the moon shone over them. -Here he drew both feet from the stirrup-irons, and sat on his saddle -sideways, sluicing his crushed and burning foot, and watching the -water drip from it. And then he carefully pulled from the holster the -pistol that still was loaded, took care that the flint and the priming -were right, and turning his horse that he might escape, while the man -fell into deep water, steadfastly gazed at the moon, and laid the -muzzle to his temple, justly careful that it should be the temple, and -the vein which tallied with that upon which he had struck his son. - -A blaze lit up the forest-pool, and a roar shook the pall of ivy; a -heavy plash added to the treasures of the deep, and a little flotilla -of white stuff began to sail about on the black water, in the -commotion made by man and horse. When Mr. Sharp was an office-boy, his -name had been "Little Big-brains." - - - - -CHAPTER LIV. - -CRIPPS BRINGS HOME THE CROWN. - - -Although the solid Cripps might now be supposed by other people to -have baffled all his enemies, in his own mind there was no sense of -triumph, but much of wonder. The first thing he did when all danger -was past, and Dobbin was pedalling his old tune--"three-happence and -tuppence; three-happence and tuppence; a good horse knows what his -shoes are worth"--was to tie up Gracie in a pair of sacks. He thumped -them well on the foot-board first, to shake all the mealiness out of -them; and then, with permission, he spread one over the delicate -shoulders, and the other in front, across the trembling heart and -throat. Then, by some hereditary art, he fastened them together, so -that the night air could not creep between. - -"Cripps, you are too good," said Grace; "if I could only tell you half -the times that I have thought of you; and once when I saw a sack of -yours----" - -"Lor', miss, the very one as I have missed! Had un got a red cross, -thick to one side--the Lord only knows what a fool I be, to carry on -with such rum-tums now; however I'll have hold of he--and zummat more, -ere I be done with it." Here the Carrier rubbed his mouth on his -sleeve, as he always did to stop himself. He was not going to publish -the family disgrace till he had avenged it. "But now, miss, not -another word you say. Inside of them sacks you go to sleep; the Lord -knows you want it dearly; and fall away you can't nohow. Scratched you -be to that extreme in getting out of Satan's den, that tallow candles -dropped in water is what I must see to. None on 'em knows it, no, not -one on 'em. Man or horse, it cometh all the same. It taketh a man to -do it, though." - -"I should like to see a horse do it," said Grace; and her sleepy smile -passed into sleep. Eager as she was to be in her father's arms, the -excitement, and the exertion, and the unwonted shaking, and passage -through the air, began to tell their usual tale. - -This was the very thing the crafty Carrier longed to bring about. It -left him time to consider how to meet two difficulties. The first was -to get her through Beckley without any uproar of the natives; the -second, to place her in her father's arms without dangerous emotion. -The former point he compassed well, by taking advantage of the many -ins and outs of the leisurely lanes of Beckley, so that he drew up at -the back door of the Barton, without a single sapient villager being -one bit the wiser. - -Now, if he only had his sister with him, the second point might have -been better managed; because he would have sent her on in front, to -treat with Mrs. Hookham, and employ all the feminine skill supplied by -quickness, sympathy, and invention. As it was, he must do the best he -could; and his greatest difficulty was with Grace herself. - -The young lady by this time was wide awake, and stirred with such -violent throbbings of heart, at the view of divine and desirable -Beckley sleeping in the moonlight, and at the breath of her own -home-door, and haunt of her darling father's steps, that Cripps had to -hold her down by her sacks, and wished that he could strap her so. "Do -'ee zit still, miss; do 'ee zit still," he kept on saying, till he was -afraid of being rude. - -"You are a tyrant, Cripps; a perfect tyrant! Because you have picked -me up, and been so good, have you any right to keep me from my -father?" - -"Them rasonings," said Cripps in a decided tone, "is good; but comes -to nothing. Either you do as I begs of you, missy, or I turns Dobbin's -head, and back you go. It is for the Squire's sake I spake so harsh to -'ee. Supposin' you was to kill him, missy, what would you say -arterwards?" - -"Oh, is he so dreadfully ill as that? I will do everything exactly as -you tell me." - -"Then get down very softly, miss, and run and hide in that old -doorway, quite out of the moonshine, and stay there till I come to -fetch 'ee." - -Still covered with the sacks, the maiden did as she was told; while -the Carrier, with ungainly skill, and needless cautions to his horse -(who stood like a rock), descended. Then he walked into the Squire's -kitchen, with whip in hand, as usual, as if he were come to deliver -goods. - -The fat cook now was sitting calmly by the fire meditating. To her the -time of year made no difference, except for the time that meat must -hang, and the recollection of what was in its prime, and the -consideration of the draught required, and the shutting of the sun out -when he spoiled the fire. In the fire of young days, when herself -quite raw, this admirable cook had been "done brown" by a handsome -young Methodist preacher. Before she understood what a basting-ladle -is, her head was set spinning by his tongue and eyes; he had three -wives already, but he put her on the list, took all her money out of -her, and went another circuit. The poor girl spent about a year in -crying, and then she returned to the Church of England, buried her -baby, and became a cook. Without being soured by any evil, she now had -long experience, and a ripe style of twirling her thumbs upon her -apron. - -"Plaize, Mrs. Cook," began Zacchary, entering under official -privilege, and trying to look full of business, "do 'ee know where to -lay hand on Mother Hookham? A vallyble piece of goods I has to -deliver, and must have good recate for un." - -"But lor', Master Cripps, now, whatever be about? It ain't one of your -Hoxford days; and us never sends out no washing!" - -"You've a-knowed me a long time now, ain't you, Mrs. Cook? Did you -ever know me for to play trickum-trully?" - -"Never have you done that to my knowledge," the good woman answered -steadfastly, though pained in her heart by the thought of one who had; -"Master Cripps is known to be the breadth of his own word." - -"Then, my good soul, will 'ee fetch down Mother Hookham? It bain't for -the flourishes, the Lord A'mighty knows. I haven't got the governing -of them little scrawls myself nor the seasoning amongst them as -appertains to you. Bootifully you could a' done it, Mrs. Cook; but the -directions here is so particular! For a job of this sort, you are -twenty years too young." - -"Oh, Master Cripps," cried the cook, who made a star, like that upon a -pie, for her manual sign; "well you know that the ruin of my days has -been trust in eddication. Standing outside of it, I was a-took in, and -afore there come any pen or pencil, £320 was gone. Not for a moment do -I blame the Word of God, only them as blasphemeth it. But the whole of -my innard parts is turned against a papper, even on a pie-crust." - -"Don't 'ee give way now, dear heart alive! Many a time have you told -me, and every time I feels the more for 'ee. Quite a young 'ooman you -be still in a way, and a treasure for a young man with a whame in his -throat, and half-a-guinea every week you might aim for roasting -dinner-parties. But do 'ee now go, and fetch Mother Hookham down." - -"The old 'ooman isn't in the house, Master Cripps. She hath so many -things to mind that the wonder is how she can ever go through of them. -A heavy weight she hath taken off my shoulders, ever since here she -come, in virtue of her tongue. But her darter can be had to put a -flour to a'most anything if my signs isn't grand enough to go into -your hat, Master Cripps." - -"Now, my dear good soul," replied the Carrier, standing back and -looking at her, "you be taking of everything in a crooked way, you be. -I have a little thing to see to--nort to say of kitchen in it, and -some sort of style pecooliar. Requaireth pecooliar management, I do -assure you, and no harm. Will 'ee plaize to hearken to me now? Such as -I have to say--not much." - -The brave cook answered this appeal by running to fetch Mary Hookham; -in everything that now she did, even with such a man as Cripps, the -remembrance of vile deceit made her look out for a witness. Mary came -down with a bounce as if she had never been near her looking-glass, -but was born with her ribbons and colour to match. And her eyes shone -fresh at the sight of Master Cripps. - -"How well you be looking, my dear, for sure!" said the Carrier, having -(as a soldier has) his admiration of a pretty girl quickened by the -sound of firearms. "And I be come to make 'ee look still better." - -Mary cast a glance at the cook, as if she thought her one too many. -Cripps must be going to declare his mind at last; and Mary had such -faith in him, that she required no witness. - -"Who do 'ee think I have brought 'ee back?" asked Zacchary, meaning to -be very quiet, but speaking so loud in his pride, that Mary, with a -pale face, ran and shut the door upon the steps leading to her -master's quarters. Then she came back more at leisure, and put her -elbows to her sides, and looked at Master Cripps, as if she had never -meant to think of him for herself. And this made Cripps, who had been -exulting at her first proceedings, put down his whip and wonder. - -"Not Miss Grace!" cried Mary; "surely never our Miss Grace!" - -"What a intellect that young woman hath!" said Cripps aloud, -reflecting; "a'most too much, I be verily afeared." - -"Oh no, Master Cripps, not at all too much for any one as entereth -into it, with a household feeling. But were I right? Oh, Master -Cripps, were I right?" - -"Mary Hookham," said Cripps, coming over, and laying his hand on her -shoulder (as he used to do when she was a little wench, and made him a -curtsy with a glass of ale, even then admiring him), "Mary, you were -right, as I never could believe any would have the quickness. Cripps -hath a-brought home to this old ancient mansion the very most vallyble -case of goods as ever were inside it. Better than the crown as the -young Queen hath, for ten months now, preparing." - -"Alive?" asked Mary, shrinking back towards the fire, for his metaphor -might mean coffins. - -"Now, there you go down again--there you go down," answered Cripps, -who enjoyed the situation, and desired to make the most of it. "I -thought you was all intellect--but better perhaps without too much. -Put it to yourself now, Mary, whether I should look like this, if I -had only brought the remainses." - -"Oh, where is her? Where is her? Wherever can her be?" cried Mary, -forgetting all her fine education, in strong vernacular excitement. - -"Her be where I knows to find her again," answered Zacchary, with a -steadfast face. It was not for any one to run in and strike a light -betwixt him and his own work. "Her might be to Abingdon, or to -Banbury. Proper time come, I can vetch her forrard." - -"Oh, I thought you had got her in the house, Master Cripps. How -disappointing you do grow, to be sure! I suppose it is the way of all -men." - -Mary shed a tear, and Master Cripps (having been tried by sundry -women) went closer, to be sure of it. He was pleased at the sign, but -he went on with his business. - -"You desarve to know everything. Now, can 'ee shut the doors, without -a chance of anybody breaking in?" - -Mary and the cook, with a glance at one another, fastened all the -doors of the large low kitchen, except the one leading to the lane -itself. - -"You bide just as you be," said Cripps, "and I'll show 'ee something -worth looking at." - -He ran to the place where Grace was hiding, in the chill and the heat -of impatience, and he took the coarse sacks from her shoulders, as if -her sackcloth time was done at last. Then he led her to the warmth and -light, and she hung behind afraid of them. That strange, but not -uncommon shyness of one's own familiar home--when long unseen--came -over her; and she felt, for the moment, almost afraid of her own -beloved father. But Cripps made her come, and both Mary Hookham and -the fat cook cried, "Oh my! My good!" and ran up and kissed her, and -held her hands; while she stood pale and mute, with large blue eyes -brimful of tears, and lips that wavered between smile and sob. - -"Does he--does he know about me?" she managed to say to Cripps, while -she glanced at the door leading up to her father's room. - -"Not he! Lord bless you, my dear," said Cripps, "it taketh 'em all -half an hour apiece to believe as you ever be alive, miss." - -"It would never take my father two minutes," answered Grace; "he will -be a great deal too glad of it to doubt." - -"You promised to bide by my diraxions," the Carrier cried -reproachfully; "if 'ee don't, I 'on't answer for nort of it. Now sit -you down, miss, by back-kitchen door, to come or go either way, -according as is ordered. Now, Mary, plaize to go, and say, that Cripps -hath come to see his Worship about a little mistake he hath made." - -Mr. Oglander never refused to see any who came to visit him. His -simple, straightforward mind compelled him to go through with -everything as it turned up, whether it were of his own business, or -any other person's. Therefore he said, "Show Cripps in here." - -Cripps was in no hurry to be shown in. He felt that he had a ticklish -job to carry through, and he might drop the handles if himself were -touched amiss. And he thought that he could get on much better with a -clever woman there to help him. - -"Plaize, your Worship," he began, coming in, with his finger to his -forelock, and his stiff knee sticking out. "Don't 'ee run away now, -Mary, that's a dear; you knows all the way-bills; and his Worship will -allow of you." - -"Why, Cripps," Mr. Oglander exclaimed, "you are making a very great -fuss to-night; and you look as if you had been run over. Even if it is -half-a-crown, Cripps, you are come to prove against me--put it down. I -will not dispute it. I know that you would rather wrong yourself than -me." The old gentleman was tired, and he did not want to talk. - -"In coorse, in coorse," said Zacchary (as if every man preferred to -wrong himself), "but the point is a different thing; and, Mary, speak -up, and say you know it is." - -"Yes, sir, I do assure you now," said Mary, "the point is altogether -quite a different sort of thing." - -"Then why can't you come to it?" cried the Squire; "is it that you -want to marry one another?" - -Mary's face blushed to a fine young colour; and Cripps made a nod at -her, as if he meant to think of it, but must leave that for another -evening. - -"I never could abide such stuff," muttered Mary, "as if all the world -was a-made of wives and husbands!" - -The Squire sat calmly with his head upon his hand, and his white hair -glistening in the lamplight, as he gazed from one to the other, with a -smile of melancholy amusement. It would be a great discomfort to him -to lose Mary Hookham's services; and he thought it a little unkind of -her to leave him in this sad loneliness; but he had not lived -threescore years and ten without knowing what the way of the world is. -Therefore, if Cripps had made up his mind--as the women had long been -declaring that he as a man was bound to do--Mr. Oglander would be the -last to complain, or say a word to damp them. The Carrier himself had -some idea that such was the working of the Squire's mind. - -"Now, your Worship," he said, putting Mary away to a place where she -could use her handkerchief, "will 'ee plaize to hearken, without your -own opinion before hast heard what there be to say? Nayther of us -drameth of doing you the wrong to take away Mary, while you be wanting -of her. You ought to have knowed us better, Squire. And as for poor -Mary, I ain't said a word to back up her hopes of a-having me yet. -Now, Miss Mary, have I?" - -"No, that you never haven't, Master Cripps! And it may come too late; -if it ever do come." - -"Well, well," continued Mr. Cripps, without much terror at the way she -turned her back; "railly, your Worship, it was you who throwed us out. -Reckoning of my times is a hard thing for me; and a hundred and four -times a year is too much for the discretion of a horse a'most." - -"Very well, Cripps," said the Squire in despair; "every one knows that -you must have your time. Not a word will I speak again, until I have -your leave." - -"I calls it onhandsome of your Worship to say that; being so contrary -of my best karaksteristicks. Your Worship maneth all things for the -best, I am persuaded; but speaking thus you drives me into such a -prespiration, the same as used to be a sweat when I was young and -forced to it. Now, doth your Worship know that all things cometh in a -round, like a sound cart-wheel, to all such folks as trusts the Lord?" - -"I know that you have such a theory, Cripps. You beat the whole -village in theology." - -"And the learned scholar in Oxford, your Worship; he were quite -doubled up about the tribe of Levi. But for all of their stuff, the -Lord still goeth on, making His rounds to His own right time; and now -His time hath come for you, Squire." - -"Do try to speak out, Cripps; and tell me what excites you so." - -"Mary, his Worship is beginning to look white. Fetch in the -pepper-castor, and the gallon of vinegar as I delivered last -Wednesday." - -"No, Mary, no. I want nothing of the kind. Tell him--beg him--just to -speak out what he means." - -"Cripps--Master Cripps, now," cried Mary in a tremble; "you be going -too far, and then stopping of a heap like. His Worship ought to be let -into the whole of it gradooal--gradooal--gradooal." - -"Can 'ee trust in the word of the Lord, your Worship?" asked Cripps, -advancing bravely. "Can 'ee do that now, without no disrespect to -'ee?" - -"In two minutes more you'll drive me mad, between you!" the old Squire -shouted, as he rose and spread his arms. "In the name of God, what is -it? Is it of my daughter?" - -"Yes, yes, father dearest! who else could it be in the whole of the -world?" a clear voice cried, as a timid form grew clear. "They would -go on all the night; but I could not wait a moment. Daddy, I am sure -that you won't be frightened. You can't have too much of your own -Grace, can you? Don't let it go to your heart, my darling. Grace will -rub it for you. There, let me put my head just as I used, and then you -will be certain, won't you?" - -She laid her head upon her father's breast, while Mary caught hold of -the Carrier's sleeve, and led him away to the passage. Then the old -man's weak and trembling fingers strayed among his daughter's hair, -and he could not speak, or smile, or weep. - -"There, you will be better directly, darling," she whispered, looking -up with streaming eyes, as she felt him tremble exceedingly, and her -quick hands eased him of the little brooch (containing her mother's -hair and her own), which fastened his quivering shirt-frill; "you -wanted me to come back, didn't you? But not in such a hurry, -darling--not in such a hurry. Father dear, why ever don't you kiss -me?" - -"If you did not run away, dear--say you did not run away." - -"Daddy, you cannot be so ill-minded; so very wicked to your only -child." - -The old man took his child's hand in his own, and soothed her down, -and drew her down, until they were kneeling at the table side by side; -then they put up their hands to thank God for one another, and did it -not with lips, but with heart and soul. - - - - -CHAPTER LV. - -SMITH TO THE RESCUE. - - -Now, in the whole of Beckley village, scarcely a soul under eighty -years of age (unless it were of some child under eight, tucked up in -rosy slumber) failed to discuss within half an hour the "miracle" -about Grace Oglander. That word was first set afoot in the parish by a -man of settled habits, and therefore of sure authority. For Thomas -Kale had been put upon a horse, when the Carrier's leg would not go -up, and ordered to ride for his life to tell Squire Overshute all that -was come to pass. - -This Kale was a man of large wondering power, gifted moreover with a -faith in ghosts, which often detracted from his comfort. He had seen -his young mistress in a half-light only, when the household was called -to look at her; and now he was ordered to a house where a lady had -died not more than a few weeks back. Between Beckley Barton and -Shotover Grange, there are two places known to be haunted. The -necessity for priming Thomas, before he started, had occurred -unluckily to himself alone. Already, as he rode out of the yard, a -gatepost and a tree shone spectrally. He felt the necessity for -priming himself; and, prudent man as he was, he saw no mischief in -affording it. Squire Overshute could not give him less than a guinea -for his tidings. Therefore (though pledged to the utmost not to speak) -he took the very turn which the prudent Cripps had shunned; and -pulling up at the window of the Dusty Anvil, gave a shout for hot -gin-and-water. - -The Anvil was ringing with hilarity that night, and its dust, if heavy -sprinkling could ally it, was subsiding. For Beckley having played a -cricket-match with Islip, and beaten the dalesmen by ten wickets--as -needs must be with five Crippses holding willow--an equally invincible -resolve arose to out-eat the losers at the supper. Islip, defeated but -not disgraced, was well represented both in flesh and cash; and as Mr. -Kale called for his modest glass, a generous feeling awoke in the -breasts of several young men to pay for it. For the wickets had been -pitched in a meadow of the Squire's, where Kale had plied scythe and -roller. - -Thomas Kale saw that it would be a most uncandid and illiberal act to -open his mouth for a negative only. He firmly restricted good feeling, -however, to three good bumpers, and a bottomer; pledging himself, on -compulsion, to call on his way back and manage the duplicate. But his -heart was so good, that before he rode off, with a flout at all ghosts -and goblins, he took an old crony by the name upon his smock, and told -him where to go for a "miracle." - -Now, who should this be but old Daddy Wakeling, that ancient and -valued friend of Cripps, and one of the best men in Elsfield parish? -Daddy was forced to spend much of his time outside his own parish, for -the best of reasons--and a melancholy one--there was no public-house -inside of it. Here he was now, with his fine white locks and -patriarchal countenance, propounding a test to our finest qualities, a -touchstone of one's lofty confidence or low cynicism--whether the -subject should now be pronounced more venerable, or more tipsy. - -But old Daddy Wakeling would be the very last (when getting near the -middle of his third gallon) to conceal from his friends any gratifying -news; and ere ever Kale's horse's heels turned the corner, Daddy's -wise old lips were wagging into the ear of a crony. In less than two -minutes, Phil Hiss had got the news; a council was held in the -long-room of the inn; and a march upon the Squire's house, and a -serenade by every one who could scrape, blow, twang, or halloa, was -the resolution of a moment. - -In the thick of the rout, as with good intent they approached the -old-fashioned coach-doors (which led to the front where they meant to -be musical), a short square fellow slipped out of the crowd, and -without observation went his way. His way was to a little hut of a -stable, fastened only with a prong outside, but holding a nice young -horse, who had finished his supper, but was not sleepy. He neighed as -John Smith came in, for he felt quite inclined for a little exercise, -and he knew the value of the saying he had heard--"After supper, trot -a mile." Numbers Cripps was his owner, in that shameful age of -ownership--which soon will be abolished, now that its prime key is -gone, the key of holy wedlock--and the butcher had offered Mr. Smith a -ride, whenever he should happen to want one. - -The night was well up in the sky, and the track of summer daylight -star-swept; the dim remembrance of a brighter hour (that hangs round a -tree, like a halo) was gone; and only little twinkles shone through -bays of leafage against the tidal power of the moon; and the long -immeasurable stretch of silence spread faint avenues of fear. - -Mr. John Smith was a very brave man. Imagination never stirred the -corpulence of his comfort. What he either saw or sifted out by his own -process, that he believed; and very little else. And so he rode, -through light and shade, and the grain of the air which is neither; -while the forest grew deeper with phantasm, and the depth of night -made way for him. - -Suddenly even he was startled. In a dark narrow place, where he kept -the track, and stuck his heels under his horse's belly (for fear of -being taken sideways), something dashed by him, with a pant and roar, -and fire flying out of it. Mr. Smith blessed his stars that he was not -rolled over, as he very well might have been; for that which flew by -him, like a streak of meteor, was a strong horse frantic. - -Smith turned round in his saddle, and stared; but the runaway sped the -faster, as if he were rushing away from the forest, with a pack of -wolves behind him. The stirrups of his empty saddle struck fire, -clashing under him, and his swift flight scarcely left a sound of -breath or hoof to follow him. - -"The devil is after him!" said John Smith; "I never saw a horse in -such a state of mind. I may as well mark the spot where he came out. -He has left, as sure as I sit here, a tale to be told, in the -background." - -Without dismounting, he broke off a branch of young white poplar, and -cast it so that by daylight he could find it; and then, with a very -uneasy mind, he rode on, to trace the rest of it. He was not by any -means in Luke Sharp's pay (as one or two persons had suspected), -neither was he even of his privy council; and yet he was bound hand -and foot to him; partly by fealty of a conquered mind, and partly by -sense of his brother Joe's complicity and subservience. John Smith, in -his own way, was an honourable man; and money was no bribe to him. - -With quickened alarm, he rode on at all speed towards the cottage of -the swineherd. Never in any way had he dealt with the sylvan schemes -of Mr. Sharp, or even from a distance watched them. It was long ere he -had any clear suspicions--for his tall brother kept miles away from -him--and in seeking the remains of Grace under the snowdrift, he -wrought out his duty with blind honesty. - -John Smith's nerves were of iron, and even the riderless horse had not -scattered them; but though he rode on bravely still, a cloud of gloom -fell over him. It would make a sad difference to his life if anything -had happened to Mr. Sharp (for Smith had invested a little money under -the lawyer's guidance), and knowing Luke Sharp as he did, he feared -that evil had befallen him. - -Hence, with dark misgiving, and the set resolve to face it, he lashed -his horse on at a perilous rate, through the wattled ways of -moonlight. The glance and the glimpse of light and shade flew past -him, like a cataract, till suddenly even he was scared by the sound of -his name in a sad clear voice. He pulled up his horse, and laid his -hand on the butt of a pistol beneath his cape, till a woman came forth -into the light, and said-- - -"I was sure you would come; but too late--it is too late!" - -"Cinnaminta, show me," he answered very softly, knowing by her gesture -that the mischief was at hand. As soon as he was off his horse, and -had made him fast by the bridle, she led him round some shadowy -corners into a little dingle. This had no great trees to crowd it; and -though it lay below the level of the wood around, the moon was high -enough now to throw a broad gangway of light along it. The sides were -fringed or jagged with darkness, cumbrous tree or mantled ivy jutting -forth black elbows; but in the middle lay and spread fair sward of -dewy emblements, swept with brightness, and garnished for a Whitsun -dance of fairies. - -But now, instead of skip and music, sigh and sob and wailing noises of -the human heart were heard. A fine young form, of the Oxford build, -lay heavily girt with molehills, enfolded vainly in a velvet cloak, -and vainly on every side adjured to open its eyes and come back again. -Kit was not at all the fellow thus to be addressed in vain--if he only -could have heard the living voices challenge him. His love of sport -had been love of pluck, as it generally is with Englishmen; and all -his dogs, of different sizes, must have taught him something. His -mother now was pulling at him, in a storm of fear and hope. She felt -that he could not be dead, because it would be so outrageous; and yet -her feeble heart was fearful that such things had been before. Happily -for herself, she knew not what had happened to him; but took it for an -accident of the woods; for the gipsy-woman, who alone had seen it, had -been too kind to tell the truth. - -"Oh, Kit, Kit! now only look!" the poor fond mother was going on; -"only lift one eyelid, darling; only move one little hand"--his hands -were of very considerable size--"or do anything, anything you like, -dear, just to show that you are coming back, back to your own mother! -Kit--oh, my Kit, my own and ever only Kit--or Christopher, if you like -it better, darling--here have I been for whole hours and hours, and -not one word will you say to me! If ever I laughed at you, Kit, in my -life, you must have felt how proud I was. There is not anything in all -the world, or anybody to come near you, Kit. Only come--only be near -me, instead of breaking all my heart like this!" - -Worn out with misery, she fell back; and Cinnaminta, with a short -quick sigh, knelt down on the turf, and supported her. - -"Four times have I had to bear it, and every time worse than the time -before," she said in her soft clear tone to herself; but only to -remind herself of the tenderness she was sure to show. "And this was -her only one, and grown up!" - -Her face (still beautiful and lovely with the sad love in her eyes, -the memory of the time when still there was somebody to live for) -shone in the gentle light, now poured abundantly on all of them. Of -all who had lived, and loved, and suffered, and now made shadows in -the moonshine, not one had been down to the holy depths of sorrow as -this woman had. - -"Catch un up now," cried John Smith, who never knew how his ideas were -timed; "catch un up by the heels, one of 'ee, while I take un by the -head. This here baistly hole be enow to fetch the ghost of his life -out. He hath got life in him. Don't tell me! His ears be like a shell; -and no dead man's is. Rap on the nob! Lor' bless my heart, I'd sooner -have fifty, than one on the basket. What, all on you afeard to heckle -him?" - -"Oh no, sir, oh no, sir," cried poor Mrs. Sharp, as Tickuss, and -another man, fell away; "I am not very strong, but I can help my -child." - -"Ma'am, you are a lady!" said John Smith, that being his very highest -crown of praise; "but as for you--a d----d set of cowards--go to the -devil, all of you! Now, ma'am, I will not trouble you, except to -follow after us. Cinny will clear the way in front; it cometh more -natural to her. And you, ma'am, shall follow me as you please; and -sorry I am not to help you. A little shaking will do him a world of -good." - -He was taking up Kit, with a well-adjusted balance, while he spoke to -her; and he wasted his breath in nothing, except in telling her to -follow him. As the hind comes after the poor slain fawn, or the cow -runs after the netted cart, where the white face of her calf weeps -out, even so Mrs. Sharp of her dress thought nothing--though cut up, -like a carrot, in the latest London style, and trimmed with almost -every flower nature never saw--anyhow, after Kit she went, and knew -not light from darkness. - -Mr. Smith sturdily managed to get on; he was thickly built, and had -well-set reins; and though poor Kit was no feather-weight, his bearer -did not flag with him. Then setting the body of the lad on a mound, -where the moon shone clearly upon his face, and the night air fanned -him quietly, John Smith very calmly pulled out a bright weapon, and -flourished it, and felt the edge. - -"Oh no, sir! Oh pray, sir!" cried Mrs. Sharp, falling on her knees, -and enclasping her poor boy. - -"Cinny, just lead her behind that bush. 'Tis either death, or blood, -with him." - -"Oh no, I never could bear to be out of sight. If it really must be -done, I will not shriek. I will not even sigh. Only let me stay by his -side!" - -John Smith signed to his sister-in-law, who took the mother's -trembling hands, and turned her away for a moment. - -"Now fetch cold water. That vein must not be allowed to bleed too -long, ma'am. 'Tis a ticklish one to manage for a surgeon even; and at -present it is sulky. But it only wants a little air, and just the -least little touch again. If you could just manage to go and say your -prayers, ma'am, we could get on a long sight better." - -"Oh, I never thought of that. How sinful of me! Oh, kind good man, I -implore of you--" - -"Not of me, ma'am. Pray to God in heaven, unless you wish to see me -run away. And if I do, he slips right off the hooks." - -She turned away, with her weak hands clasped; but whether she prayed -or not, never could she tell. But one thing she bore in mind, as long -as soul abode with it, and that was the leap of her heart when Smith -shouted in a good loud voice, "All right!" - - - - -CHAPTER LVI. - -FATAL ACCIDENT TO THE CARRIER. - - -Now, that little maid who with such strength, alike of mind and body, -had opened the paternal gate, and then bewailed her prowess, happened -to be the especial favourite of her good Aunt Esther. Therefore no -sooner had the Carrier begun his eventful homeward course, as -heretofore related, than Etty, who loved a forest walk and felt rather -dull without Zacchary, took Peggy's fat red hand, and, after a good -tea with Susannah, set forth for an evening stroll, to gather flowers -and hear the birds sing. - -Almost before they had got well into the wooded places, Peggy shrank -away from a black timber shed, partly overhung by trees. - -"Peggy not go there, Aunt Etty," she said; "goose in there, a great -white goose!" - -"A ghost, you little goose?" answered Esther, laughing, for still -there was good sunset. "Come and show me; I want to see a ghost." - -"No, no, no!" cried the child, pulling backward, and struggling as -hard as she had struggled with the gate; "Peggy see a white goose in a -black hole there, all day." - -"Then, Peggy, stop here while I go and look. You won't be afraid to do -that, will you?" - -Running bravely up to the hole in the boards, Esther saw, to her great -amazement, the form, perhaps the corpse, of a man, stretched at length -on the ground inside. It lay too much in the dark for the face to be -seen, and the dress was so swaddled with netting, and earthy, that -little could be made of it. A torn strip of cambric, that once had -been white, lay partly on the body and partly on the board. Esther -caught it up; she remembered having ironed something of this shape for -somebody once, who was going to be examined. She knew where to look -for the mark, and there she saw in small letters--"T. Hardenow." - -Surprised as she was, she did not lose her wits or courage, as she -used to do. She ran to the door of the shed, tried the padlock, and -finding it fastened (as she had feared), made haste to the -grain-house, and seized a bunch of keys. Not one of them truly was -born with the lock, but one was soon found to serve the turn; then -Esther pushed back the creaking door, and timidly gazed round the -shadowy shed. She was quite alone now, for her little niece, with -short sobs of terror, had set off for home. - -In the light admitted by the open door, young Esther descried a poor -miserable thing, helpless, still as a log, and senseless, yet to her -faithful heart the idol of all adoration. Gently, step by step, she -stole to the prostrate form, and knelt down softly, and reverently -touched it. She feared to seem to take advantage of a helpless moment; -and yet a keen joy, mixed with terror, shone in the eagerness of her -eyes. "He is alive, I am sure of that," she said to herself, as she -pulled forth a pair of strong scissors which she always carried; "he -is alive, but very, very nearly dead. What wretches can have treated -him like this?" - -In two minutes, Hardenow was free from every cord and throng of -bondage; his lax arms fell at his sides; his legs (that had saved his -life by kicking) slowly sank back to their native angles, like a -lobster's claw untied, and his small and dismally empty stomach -quivered almost invisibly. - -"Oh, he is starving, or downright starved!" cried Esther, watching his -white lips, which trembled with some glad memory of suction, and then -stiffened again to some Anglican dream. "After all, I have blamed -other folk quite amiss. He hath corded himself away from his victuals -to give way to his noble principles. But how could he lock himself in? -The Lord must have sent a bad angel to tempt him, and then to turn the -key on him." - -Before she had finished this reasoning process, the girl was half-way -towards the cot of Tickuss, her heart outweighing her mind, according -to all true feminine proportions. She ran in swiftly upon Susannah, -sitting in the dusky kitchen and pondering over a very slow fire the -cookery of the children's supper. These good young children never -failed to go to see the pigs fed, and down at the styes they all were -at this moment, with no victuals come, and the pigs all squeaking, -because the pig-master was not at home. - -This was most sad, and the children felt it; nevertheless they bore -it, knowing that their own pot was warming. But they too might have -squeaked, if they had known that out of their own pot Aunt Etty was -stealing half the meat and all the little cobs of jelly. It was as -fine a pot of stuff as ever Susannah Cripps had made, for she did not -hold at all with fattening the pigs, and starving her own children; -and she argued most justly, while Esther all the while was ladling all -the virtue out. - -Etty had never been known to do anything violent or high-handed; yet -now, without entering into even the very shortest train of reasoning, -away she went swifter than any train, bearing in her right hand the -best dresser-jug (filled with the children's tidbits of nurture), and -in her left hand flourishing Susannah's own darling silver -wedding-spoon. Mrs. Leviticus longed to rush in chase of her; but ere -her slowly startled nerves could send the necessary tingle to her -ruminating knees, the girl was out of sight, and for her vestige -lingered naught but a very provoking smell of soup. - -Now, in so advanced a stage of the world's existence (and of this -narrative) is it needful, judicious, or even becoming to describe, -spoonful by spoonful, however grateful, delicious, and absorbing, the -process of administering and receiving soup? To "give and take" is -said, by people of large experience in life, to be about the latest -and most consummate lesson of humanity; coming even after that extreme -of wisdom which teaches us to "grin and bear it." But in the present -trifling instance, two young people very soon began to be -comparatively at home with the subject. The opening of the eyes, in -all countries and creatures, is done a good deal later than the -opening of the mouth; the latter being the essential, the former quite -a fortuitous proceeding. - -After six spoonfuls, as counted by Esther, Hardenow opened both his -eyes; after two or three more, he knew where he was; and when he had -swallowed a dozen and a bonus, scarcely any of his wits were wanting. -Still Esther, for fear of a relapse, went on; though her hand trembled -dreadfully when he sat up, with his poor bones creaking sadly, and -tried to be steady upon her arm, but was overbalanced by his weight of -brain. Instead of shrieking, or screaming, she took advantage of this -opportunity, and his bony chin dropping afforded the finest opening -towards his interior. - -To put it briefly, he quite came round, and after twenty spoonfuls -vowed--with the conscience rushing for the moment into the arms of -common sense--that never would he fast again. And after thirty were -absorbed and beginning to assimilate, he gazed at Esther's smiling -eyes, and saw the clearest and truest solution of his "postulates on -celibacy." Esther dropped her eyes in terror, and made him drink the -dregs and bottom, with a convert's zealous gulp. And as it happened, -this was wise. - -If any malignant persons charge him with having sold, for a mess of -pottage, man's noblest birthright, celibacy, let every such person be -corded up, at the longest possible date after breakfast, and the -shortest before dinner--or rather, alas! before dinner-time--let him -stay corded, and rolling about in a hog-house (as long as roll he can, -which never would approach Mr. Hardenow's cycle); let him, throughout -this whole period, instead of eating, expect to be eaten; then with a -wolf in his stomach (if he has one) let him lose his wits (if he has -any), and then let a lovely girl come and free him, and feed him, and -cry over him, and regard him--with his clothes at their very worst, -and cakes of dirt in his eyes and mouth--as the imperial Jove in some -Dictæan cavern dormant; and then, as the light and the life flow back, -and the power of his heart awakes, let there manifestly accrue thereto -a better, gentler, and sweeter heart, timid even of its own pulse, and -ashamed of its own veracity--and then if he takes all this unmoved, -why, let him be corded up again, and nobody come to deliver him. - -Esther only smiled and wept at her patient's ardent words and -impassioned gratitude. She knew that between them was a great gulf -fixed, and that the leap across it seldom has a happy landing; and -when poor Hardenow fell back, in the weak reaction of a heart more fit -for pain than passion, she knelt at his side, and nursed and cheered -him, less with the air of a courted maiden than of a careful handmaid. -In the end, however, this feeling (like most of those which are -adverse to our wishes) was prevailed upon to subside, and Esther, -although of the least revolutionary and longest-established stock in -England--that of the genuine Crippses, whose name, originally no doubt -"Chrysippus," indicates the possession of a golden horse--Etty Cripps, -finding that the heart of her adored one had, in Splinters' opinion, a -perilous fissure, requiring change of climate, consented at last -(having no house of her own) to come down from the tilt, and go to -Africa. - -For Hardenow, as he grew older and able to regard mankind more -largely, came out from many of the narrow ways, which (like the lanes -of Beckley) satisfy their final cause by leading into one another. -With the growth of his learning, his candour grew; and he strove to -bind others by his own strap and buckle, as little as he offered to be -bound by theirs. Therefore when two of his very best friends made a -_bonâ fide_ job of it, and being unable to think their thoughts out -got it done by deputy, and sank to infallible happiness, Thomas -Hardenow pulled up, and set his heels into the ground of common sense, -like a horse at the brink of a quarry-pit; and the field of reason, -rich and gracious, opened its gates again to him. - -Herein he cut no capers, as so many of the wilder spirits did, but -made himself ready for some true work and solid advantage to his race. -And so, before any University Mission, or plough-and-Bible enterprise, -Hardenow set forth to open a track for commerce and civilization, and -to fight the devil and slavery in the rich rude heart of Africa. -Besides his extraordinary gift of tongues, he had many other -qualifications--the wiriness of his legs and stomach, his quiet style -of listening (so that even a "nigger" need not be snubbed), his -magnificent freedom from humour (an element fatal to stern -convictions), and last not least, as he said to Etty, for a clinching -argument, his wife's acquaintance with the carrying trade. - -Happy exile, how much better than home misery it is! But the House of -Cripps sent forth another member into banishment, with little choice -or chance of much felicity on his part. As there are woes more strong -than tears, so are there crimes beyond the lash. When the doings of -Leviticus were brought to light, and shown to be unsuccessful, a -council of Crippses was held in his hog-house, and a stern decree -passed to expatriate him. Tickuss was offered his fair say, and did -his very best to defend himself; but the case from the first was -hopeless. If he had wronged any other parish than Beckley, or even any -other as well, there might have been some escape for him. Cruelty, -cowardice, treason high and low, perjury to his own elder brother, and -eternal disgrace to his birthplace--there was not a word in the mouth -of any one half bad enough to use to him. The Carrier rose, and said -all he could say, for the sake of the many children; but weighty with -piety as he was, he could not stem the many-fountained torrent of the -Crippsic wrath. The pigs of Leviticus were divided among all the -nephews and nieces, and cousins (ere ever a creditor got a hock-rope -or a flick-whip ready), and Tickuss himself, unhoused, unstyed, -unlarded, and unsmocked, wandered forth with his business gone, like a -Gadarene swine-herd void of swine. - -For years and years that fine old hog-farm was the haunt of rats and -rabbits; never a grunt or squeak of porker (ringing or rung -eloquently) shook the fringe of ivied shade, or jarred the acorn in -its cup, until a third son arose and grew up to Zacchary Cripps -hereafter. All the neighbourhood lay under a cloud of fear and -sadness, because of what Luke Sharp had done, not to others, but -himself. Luke Sharp, the greatest of all lawyers--so the affrighted -woodman says--may and must, alas, be seen (at certain moments of the -forest moon) rising on horseback from the black pool where his black -life ended, gaining the shore with a silent bound, and galloping, with -his arm held forth as straight as any sign-post, to the nook of dark -lane where he smote his son; and then to the ruined hut, wherein he -imprisoned the fair lady; and then to the rotting shed, in which he -corded and starved the great Oxford scholar. - -Whether, for the assertion of the law, Luke Sharp is allowed by some -evil power thus to revisit the glimpses of the moon, or whether he -lies in silent blackness, ignorant of evil--sure it is that no one -cares to stay beyond the fall of dusk in that part of the forest. - -But as soon as the lawyer's wife and son, by virtue of the poplar -mark, had found and quietly buried his disappointed corpse, they made -the very best of a broken business, as cheerfully as could be hoped -for. Each of them sighed very heavily at times, especially when they -were almost certain of hearing again, round the corner or downstairs, -a masterful and very memorable tread. Therefore, with what speed they -might, they let their fine old Cross Duck House, and fleeing all low -curiosity, unpleasant remark, and significant glance, took refuge -under the quiet roof of Kit's aunt Peggy, near High Wycombe, where he -had hoped to lodge, and woo his timid forest angel. Here Kit found -tardy comfort, and recovered health quite rapidly, by writing his own -dirge in many admirable metres, till, being at length made laureate of -a strictly local paper--at a salary of nil per annum, and some quarts -of ale to stand--he swung his cloak and lit his pipe in the style of -better days. - -From those whom his father had wronged so deeply he would accept no -help whatever, much as they desired to show their sense of his good -behaviour. And when the second-best ambition of his life arrived by -coach--that notable dog, "Pablo"--if Christopher could have sniffed -lightest scent of Beckley, or Shotover, in the black dog-winkles of -his nostrils, the odds are ten to one that Oxford never would have -sighed (as all through the October term she did) at the loss of her -finest badgerer. - -In spite of all this obstinacy, three people were resolved to make him -come round and be comfortable, settled, and respectable. To this they -brought him in the end, and made him give up fugitive pieces, sonnets, -stanzas to a left-hand glove, and epitaphs on a cenotaph. The Squire, -and Russel, and Grace could not compose their own snug happiness -without providing that Kit should be less miserable than his poetry. -So they married him to a banker's daughter, and--better still--put him -in the bank itself. - -The loyalty of Mrs. Fermitage to her distinguished husband's memory -was never disturbed by any knowledge of that fatal codicil. Poor Mrs. -Sharp, as she slowly recovered from the sad grief wrought by greed, -more and more reverently cherished her great husband's high repute. -She rejoined him in a better world--or at least she set forth to do -so--without any knowledge of the blow he had given to her son's head, -and her own heart. Kit, like a man, concealed that outrage, and, like -a good son, listened to his departed father's praises. But in her -heart the widow felt that some of these might be imperilled, if that -codicil turned up. Long time she kept it in reserve, as a thunderbolt -for Joan Fermitage; but Pablo's arrival improved her feelings, and so -did the banker's daughter; and finally, on Kit's wedding-day, with a -sigh and a prayer, she took advantage of a clear fire and a rapid -draught--and the codicil flew through the chimney-pot. - -As a lawyer's daughter, she revered such things. In the same capacity, -she knew that now it could make no great practical difference; for -Grace was quite sure of her good aunt's money. And again, as a widow -and mother, she felt what a stain must be cast on the name she loved -best, if this little document ever came to light--other than good -firelight. - -But why should Esther have had no house of her own, as darkly hinted -above, so as to almost compel her to descend from tilt to tent? The -reason is not far to seek, and he who runs may read it, without -running out of Beckley. - -Cripps, the Carrier, now being past the middle milestone of man's -life, and seeing every day, more and more, the grey hairs in his -horse's tail, lowered his whip in a shady place, and let his reins go -slackly, and pulled his crooked sixpence out, and could not see to -read it. And yet the summer sun was bright in the top of the bushes -over him! - -"I vear a must; I zee no way out of un," Zacchary said to his lonely -self. "Etty is as good as gone a'ready; her cannot stan' out agin that -there celibacy; and none else understandeth the frying-pan. The Lord -knows how I have fought agin the womminses, seeing all as I has seen. -And better I might a' done, if I must come to it, many a time in the -last ten year. Better at laste for the brown, white, and yellow; -though the woman as brought might a' shattered 'em again. After all, -Mary might be a deal worse; though I have a-felt some doubt consarning -of her tongue; but her hath a proper respect for me, and forty puns to -Oxford bank--if her moother spaiketh raight of her; and the Squaire -hath given me a new horse, to come on whenso Dobbin beginneth to wear -out. Therefore his domestics hath first claim; though I'd soonder -draive Dobbin than ten of un. What shall us do now? Whatever shall us -do?" - -Zacchary Cripps pulled off his hat in a slow perspiration of suspense; -for if he once made up his mind, there would be no way out of it. He -looked at his horse with a sad misgiving, both on his own account and -Dobbin's. The marriage of the master might wrong the horse, and the -horse might no more be the master's. Suddenly a bright idea struck -him--a bar of sunshine through the shade. - -"Thou shalt zettle it, Dobbin," he cried, leaning over and stroking -his gingery loins. "It consarneth thee most, or, leastways, quite as -much. Never hath any man had a better horse. The will of the Lord -takes the strength out of all of us; but He leaveth, and addeth to the -wisdom therein. Dobbin, thou seest things as never men can tell of. -Now, if thou waggest thy tail to the right--I will; and so be to the -left--I wun't. Mind what thou doest now. Call upon thy wisdom, nag, -and give thy master honestly the sense of thy discretion." - -With a settled mind, and no disturbance, he awaited the delivery of -Dobbin's tail. A fly settled on the white foam of the harness on the -off side of this ancient horse. Away went his tail with a sprightly -flick at it; and Cripps accepted the result. The result was the -satisfaction of Mary's long and faithful love for him, and the happy -continuance, in woodland roads, of the loyal race and unpretentious -course of Cripps, the Carrier. - - -THE END. - - - - -NEW ISSUE OF LOW'S STANDARD NOVELS. - -_Cloth elegant 2s. 6d.; picture boards, 2s._ - - -The following are being published at short intervals:-- - - Lorna Doone By R. D. Blackmore. - Far from the Madding Crowd " Thos. Hardy. - Senior Partner " Mrs. Riddell. - Clara Vaughan " R. D. Blackmore. - The Guardian Angel " Oliver Wendell Holmes. - Her Great Idea, and Other Stories " Mrs. Walford. - Three Recruits " Joseph Hatton. - The Mayor of Casterbridge " Thos. Hardy. - The Casting Away of Mrs. Lecks } " Frank R. Stockton, - and Mrs. Aleshine; and The } Author of "Rudder - Dusantes } Grange." - Adela Cathcart " George Macdonald. - Cripps, the Carrier " R. D. Blackmore. - Dred " Mrs. Beecher Stowe. - Trumpet-Major " Thos. Hardy. - Daisies and Buttercups " Mrs. Riddell. - Guild Court " George Macdonald. - Mary Anerley " R. D. Blackmore. - A Golden Sorrow " Mrs. Cashel Hoey. - Innocent " Mrs. Oliphant. - Sarah de Berenger " Jean Ingelow. - The Bee Man of Orn { " Frank R. Stockton, Author - { of "Rudder Grange." - Under the Stars and under the } - Crescent } " Edwin de Leon. - Hand of Ethelberta " Thos. Hardy. - Vicar's Daughter " George Macdonald. - Some One Else " Mrs. Croker. - Out of Court " Mrs. Cashel Hoey. - Alice Lorraine " R. D. Blackmore. - Old Town Folk " Mrs. Beecher Stowe. - A Pair of Blue Eyes " Thos Hardy. - Half Way " Miss M. Betham-Edwards. - Ulu: An African Romance { " Joseph Thomson and - { E. Harris-Smith. - Two on a Tower " Thos. Hardy. - Poganuc People " Mrs. Beecher Stowe. - Old House at Sandwich " Joseph Hatton. - Tommy Upmore " R. D. Blackmore. - Stephen Archer " George Macdonald. - John Jerome " Jean Ingelow. - A Stern Chase " Mrs. Cashel Hoey. - Bonaventure " Geo. W. Cable. - -_To be followed by others._ - - - LONDON: SAMPSON, LOW, MARSTON & CO., - _Limited_, - ST. DUNSTAN'S HOUSE, FETTER LANE, FLEET STREET, E.C. - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - -Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. - -Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained -as printed. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CRIPPS, THE CARRIER*** - - -******* This file should be named 43281-8.txt or 43281-8.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/3/2/8/43281 - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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