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diff --git a/57427-0.txt b/57427-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..839ebc6 --- /dev/null +++ b/57427-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12586 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 57427 *** + + + + + + + + +The Sheep-Stealers + + + +New 6s. Novels + +DONOVAN PASHA + BY GILBERT PARKER + +CAPTAIN MACKLIN + BY RICHARD HARDING DAVIS + +IF I WERE KING + BY JUSTIN HUNTLY MCCARTHY + +THE MYSTERY OF THE SEA + BY BRAM STOKER + +MOTHER EARTH + BY FRANCES HARROD + +THE WINDS OF THE WORLD + BY MILLICENT SUTHERLAND + +THE STORY OF EDEN + BY DOLF WYLLARDE + +THE ASSASSINS + BY N. M. MEAKIN + +NEXT TO THE GROUND + BY MARTHA MCCULLOCH-WILLIAMS + +BY BREAD ALONE + BY I. K. FRIEDMAN + +LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN +21 Bedford Street, W.C. + + + +The Sheep-Stealers + +By + +Violet Jacob +(Mrs. Arthur Jacob) + +London +William Heinemann +1902 + + + +_First Edition, August_ 1902 +_Second Impression, September_ 1902 + +_All rights reserved_ + +_This Edition enjoys copyright in all countries signatory to the Berne +Treaty, and is not to be imported into the United States of America_ + + + +_To my Mother_ + + + +CONTENTS + +Book I + +Chapter Page + I. The Two Communities 3 + II. Rhys 8 + III. The Dipping-Pool 19 + IV. At the Yew-Stump and After 29 + V. Rebecca 40 + VI. A Dead Man and a Live Coward 51 + VII. To Abergavenny 59 + VIII. Master and Man 66 + IX. Two Meetings 76 + X. Forget-me-nots 83 + XI. The Brecon Coach 92 + XII. George's Business 102 + XIII. The Seven Snow-Men 110 + XIV. The Uses of a Cast Shoe 120 + XV. The Beginning 134 + XVI. In which George Proves to be but Human 147 + XVII. The Sheep-Stealers Part Company 156 + XVIII. Mrs. Walters Goes to Chapel 165 + XIX. The Moth and the Candle 174 + XX. The Pedlar's Stone 183 + XXI. The Way of the Transgressor 192 + XXII. A Bad Debt 201 + +Book II + + XXIII. White Blossoms 213 + XXIV. A Card House 223 + XXV. Llangarth Fair 232 + XXVI. Howlie and Llewellyn Understand Each Other 243 + XXVII. Four Opinions 254 +XXVIII. A Martyr 263 + XXIX. The Half Loaf 271 + XXX. Nannie Sees her Duty 278 + XXXI. The Way to Paradise 286 + XXXII. A Dark Lantern 293 +XXXIII. A Bird in the Hand 302 + XXXIV. The Pursuers 312 + XXXV. New Year's Eve 325 + XXXVI. The New Year 336 + + + +BOOK I + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TWO COMMUNITIES + +IN the earlier half of the nineteenth century, when most of the +travelling done by our grandfathers was done by road, and the +intercourse between districts by no means far apart was but small, a +tract of country lying at the foot of the Black Mountain, which rises +just inside the Welsh border, was as far behind the times of which I +speak, as though it had been a hundred miles from any town. + +Where the Great Western engines now roar down the Wye valley, carrying +the traveller who makes his journey in spring through orchards full of +pink blossom, the roads then lay in peaceful and unsophisticated +quiet. Soon after leaving Hereford, the outline of the mountain might +be seen raising itself like an awakening giant, over green hedges and +rich meadowland from the midst of the verdure and cultivation. + +Between its slopes and the somewhat oppressive luxuriance through +which the river ran, a band of country totally unlike either of these +in character, encircled the mountain's foot, and made a kind of +intermediate stage between the desolate grandeur of the Twmpa (as the +highest summit was called) and the parish of Crishowell with its +farmyards and hayfields far beneath. The lanes leading up from +Crishowell village were so steep that it was impossible for carts to +ascend them, and the sheep-grazing population which inhabited the hill +farms above, had to go up and down to the market-town of Llangarth, +either on foot or on ponies brought in from the mountain runs. The +"hill-people," as the slower-witted dwellers in the valley called +them, came seldom down except on market-days, when the observer mixing +in these weekly gatherings in Llangarth market-place, might +distinguish them as a leaner, harder race with a wider range of +expression, due possibly to their larger outlook on the natural world. +They were neither entirely mountain nor entirely valley bred, though +retaining something of each locality, and something of the struggle +between nature and civilization seemed to have entered into them, +giving them that strenuousness which all transition must bring with +it. + +They lived, too, in the midst of what one might call a by-gone +element, for the fields and uplands round their homes were full of the +records of preceding generations. Strange graves scattered the +hill-sides, ancient dates were cut in the walls of their houses, names +identical with those on forgotten tombs might be found on +outbuildings, and, in the hedges of the perpendicular lanes, stones +stood here and there which tradition vaguely designated as +"murder-stones," showing where the roadside tragedies of earlier times +had taken place. Local history told, too, of bloody battles fought +round the spurs of the mountain in ancient British times, and, at one +spot, a mound, visible to the eye of archæology, marked the place +where three chieftains had been buried after one of those fights. +Perhaps it was this which had given the name of "The Red Field" to a +small farm at a short distance from the plateau. Imaginative people +finding themselves in that region of neither yesterday nor to-day +might have felt the crowding-in at every step of dead personalities, +past customs and passions, in fact, a close treading on their heels of +generations which had lain for years in their graves in Crishowell +churchyard, or in the burying-places beside the little Methodist +chapels. + +An element of superstition which all this could not fail to bring with +it, stalked abroad through those misty fields and lonely pastures, +and, one can hardly wonder that at the time of which I am speaking, it +was a powerful factor in the lives of the illiterate shepherds and +even of the better-educated farmers who owned sheep-runs on the +mountain. Stories were extant of strange appearances seen by late +riders on the bridle-tracks, and certain places were passed, even by +daylight, with a great summoning-up of courage. + +One of these shrines of horror was an innocent-looking spot called +"The Boiling Wells," in the middle of a green track stretching over +the Twmpa's shoulder, where a flat piece of slate rock jutted from the +turf, and three small springs of water bubbled eternally up through +the earth. Near this place two young farmers, returning at dusk from a +sheep-run, had had an experience which they and all the hill-people +were not quick to forget, for they had arrived breathless one evening +at the Red Field Farm to detail to an open-mouthed audience of +farm-labourers how they had been overtaken by a thunderstorm near the +Boiling Wells, and how, as they neared the water, the horses had +refused to pass it, wheeling round and flying from something visible +only to themselves. Then the two men had become aware of a man's +figure hovering in the dusk, and a luminous face had peered at one of +them from between his horse's ears. At sight of this they had fled as +fast as their terrified beasts could carry them, and, after galloping +wildly in the increasing darkness for some time, they had been brought +to a stand by finding themselves running against the fence which +divided Red Field Farm from the mountain land. + +In fact, the tales of fear which grew around this and other places in +the neighbourhood were endless, though sceptics hinted that these +strange things happened oftener on market-days than on any others, and +that those who claimed to have seen more than their neighbours owed +their pretensions more to having been what was called "market-peart" +than to anything else. Still, the effect on the public mind was +disquieting, and, in winter evenings, it kept many inside their doors +or in the inspiriting vicinity of the farm buildings. + +To the dwellers in Crishowell village, who were disinclined to +question anything, all these tales, as they came down to their ears +from the higher regions, were unmitigated horrors, to be accepted as +best might be and retailed at corners over pipes with much repetition +and comment, coloured here and there to suit the narrator's cast of +mind. Living in their bit of valley where wages were small, needs few, +and public-houses many, they had scant ideas beyond the round of +weekly work, which terminated, in many cases, on Saturday night in a +prolonged visit to some favoured inn, and a circuitous return to the +domestic hearth afterwards. + +Sunday, indeed, brought to these unsophisticated labourers its veneer +of respectability. A bucket of water in the back garden, an inherited +Sunday coat, a virtuous resolve not to smoke in any part of the +churchyard in which the parson could see them, converted them from a +quarter to eleven till half-past twelve, noon, into a chastened +community which filed noisily into the battered pews of Crishowell +church, there to remain till the final "Amen" let them loose upon the +joys of a Sunday dinner in the family circle. After this, they might +cast from them the garments of righteousness and sit about on gates +with acquaintances to whom they apparently never spoke. + +Though the hill-people descended into Crishowell, the Crishowell +people rarely went up among their neighbours; only the Methodists +among them journeyed upwards to attend the Chapels with which the +higher land was dotted. In out-of-the-way corners by the thickly +intersecting lanes these grim, square, unadorned little buildings were +to be found. The wayfarer, coming unexpectedly upon one as he turned +some sudden angle of his road, might pause to glance over the low wall +which divided its unkempt precincts from the public path, at the few +crooked tombstones rising amid a wilderness of coarse hemlock which +spread even to the Chapel door, imparting a forlorn effect to the +spot, and pervading the air with its rank smell. Many of these places +were falling into disrepair from disuse, as, in summer weather, the +meetings would often be held on the hill-side, where the short turf +would bear marks until the next heavy rain of iron-bound heels and +heavy feet which had trodden in a ring round the spot. When the wind +chanced to sit in the east, the sound of the hymns and psalms would +come down with a kind of wail, by no means unimpressive, though +somewhat prolonged and nasal, to the nearer parts of the valley, the +favourite themes of death and judgment to come seeming singularly +appropriate to the hard, fervent faces and the background of frowning +mountain from which they sounded. + +If it was a narrow religion which had obtained such a grasp upon these +upland men and women, it was yet one from which they gained a great +deal that few other things could have taught, and virtues adapted to +their exposed life grew up among them, possibly in obedience to those +laws of supply and demand which are part of Nature's self. Children +reared in unyielding austerity, forced to sit meekly through hours of +eloquence against which their hearts rebelled, while their bodies +suffered in silence, groaned under their trials. But, when they had +crossed the threshold of grown-up life, the fruits of these +experiences would show in a dormant fund of endurance and tenacity, +submerged, no doubt, by the tide of every-day impressions, but apt to +re-appear in emergencies as a solid rock rises into view at low water. + +Such were the two communities living close together on the borders of +two nations, nominally one since the middle ages, but, in reality, +only amalgamated down to a very few inches below the surface. + + + +CHAPTER II + +RHYS[1] + +IT was the day after Christmas. The frost and snow, supposed to be +suitable to the time, had held off from the West country and were +waiting ready to pounce upon the world with a new year. The evenings +had been damp and chilly of late, with not a breath of wind stirring +to lift the fog which hung over the Black Mountain and pressed like a +heavy, dead hand right into Crishowell village. + +On the green track which led along the plateau at the foot of the +Twmpa the air to-night lay still and thick. Noises made by the animal +world were carried a long distance by the moist atmosphere, and sounds +were audible to people who had learned to keep their ears open for +which they might have listened in vain at ordinary times. The water, +running through wet places, could be heard distinctly trickling among +roots and coarse grasses and patches of rush, as well as the quick +cropping of sheep and occasional scuttering of their feet over muddy +bits of path; and along the track from the direction of Llangarth came +the dull thud of a horse's advancing hoofs and the constant sneezing +of the animal as he tried in vain to blow the clinging damp from his +nostrils. As they loomed out of the fog which gave to both horse and +man an almost gigantic appearance, the rider, without waiting to pull +up, slipped his leg over the pommel of the saddle and slid to his +feet, the horse stopping of his own accord as he did so. + +It was almost too thick to see more than a yard in front of one's +face, and Rhys Walters stood a moment peering before him with narrowed +eyes into what looked like a dead wall of motionless steam. Then he +bent down to examine the spongy ground. It oozed and sucked at his +boots when he moved about, and he frowned impatiently as he knelt to +lay his ear against it. While he listened, a sound of distant running +water made itself faintly heard through the windless evening, and his +horse pricked his ears and turned his head towards it. The young man +remounted and rode abruptly to the left, in the direction of the +Boiling Wells. + +As he went along with the rein lying loose on the bay horse's withers, +the animal made a sudden plunge and swerved violently aside as a sheep +appeared out of the mist and ran startled across the path under his +very nose. But Rhys seemed hardly to notice the occurrence, except by +a stronger pressure of his knees against the saddle, for he was +thinking intently and the expression on his hard countenance showed +that he was occupied with some affair much more difficult than +horsemanship, which had been a simple matter to him from his very +earliest youth. + +He was a man to whom one physical exercise was as natural as another, +his firmly-knit frame being equally adapted to everything; and, though +rather over middle-height than under it, he conveyed the impression of +being very tall, more by his leanness and somewhat high shoulders than +by actual inches. His hands and feet were well-shaped, though the +latter fact was not apparent, on account of the stout leather leggings +and clumsy boots which he wore, and every movement of his spare figure +had the attraction of perfect balance and unconsciousness of effort. + +His long face was one which few persons of any discernment would have +passed without a second glance; fewer still could have determined what +it actually expressed. He had eyebrows of the real Welsh type coming +down low towards the nose, the eyes underneath being set near together +and looking either brown or grey according to the light in which they +were seen. They were usually called brown, to match the tanned +complexion and dark hair to which they belonged. His cheekbones were +high, his nose long and pointed, though the refinement which it might +appear to indicate found its unexpected contradiction in a straight +and unsensitive nostril. + +When he spoke, Rhys used much less gesticulation than was common to +his countrymen (for he was three-parts a Welshman), but his thin lips +moved a great deal and the quick turns of his close-cropped head--he +kept his hair short when it was the fashion among men to wear it +rather long--showed that he did not by any means possess the true +phlegmatic temperament. Above all, he looked entirely at one with the +natural and animal creation around him. Had he been a poorer man, he +might easily have been taken for a poacher, had he been a richer one, +for a country gentleman of active and sporting tastes; as a matter of +fact, he was neither of these, being a farmer and the son of a farmer. +His earlier childhood had been spent in what one might almost call +savagery, and the rest of his youth in Hereford Grammar School, where, +except for a far more polished speech and accent than was natural to +his position, he had learnt but a certain amount of what his parents +wished him to acquire. He had also learned much of which they, in +their greater simplicity, had never dreamed. + +Of these two, Eli Walters and his wife, only Mrs. Walters was alive, +and she lived with Rhys at Great Masterhouse, a farm standing high in +Crishowell parish on the skirts of the mountain land. It was a long +and ancient stone house which had consisted of one storey until Eli +had added an upper floor to suit his more modern ideas of convenience, +and, as this outcome of his full purse and soaring mind extended but +half the length of the dwelling-house, it gave the approaching +stranger a notion that it might be some kind of religious building +with a squat tower at one end. Owing to the impossibility of +dovetailing a proper staircase in, the upper rooms were reached from +outside by a ladder with a weather-beaten railing running up it. To +this protection Eli, who occupied a room at the top, had often had +reason to be grateful, for the excellent beer produced in Hereford +town had played a larger part in his latter years than was altogether +decorous; many a time, on winter nights, Mrs. Walters, sitting below +in the kitchen, had listened sternly to his uneven footstep in its +spasmodic descent to earth. + +Great Masterhouse looked towards the Twmpa, and, from the kitchen +window, the view presented to the eye a strip of turf forming a +parade-ground for troops of cocks and hens. This sloped to a tortuous +little stream, upon which the ducks, having picked up everything worth +having near home, might cruise down to a pool in search of more +alluring gluttonies. At the south side of the house lay the strip of +garden that was all of which the farm could boast. It was used for +vegetable-growing alone, and wore a dreary aspect all the year round, +enlivened only for a short time in spring, when a pear-tree, trained +up the dead wall of the additional storey, broke out into a green and +white cloud. Old Walters, it is true, had taken some interest in the +few yards of flower-bed it had contained in his lifetime. He had +planted sweet-williams, peonies and such like, for he was a man who +loved beauty in any form, though, unfortunately, he had been as apt to +see it in the bottom of a beer-jug as in any other more desirable +place. + +His wife cared for none of these things, for she regarded the culture +of what merely pleased the eye as a wanton throwing away of time. It +seemed to her to be people's duty to make themselves as uncomfortable +as possible in this world by way of suitable preparation for the next. +So, after Eli had finished alike his drinks and his gardenings and +been carried down the hill to Crishowell churchyard, the flowers +disappeared from the poor little garden, and rows of sensible cabbages +and onions raised their aggressive heads from the places they had left +empty. + +At the back was a great yard surrounded by outbuildings, and this +place gave to Great Masterhouse the only picturesqueness it possessed. +From it one looked at the curious old back-door which opened on a +stone passage to the kitchen, and might admire the solid oak and +heavily-moulded lintel. Inside there was a niche in the wall into +which a strong wooden beam could be shot, while above it a porch +projected bearing the date 1685. Patches of golden-brown stonecrop +sprawled over this, and a heap of dried bracken which lay upon the +doorstep for all who entered to clean their boots upon, added to the +antiquated effect. Such had been Rhys' home during his twenty-seven +years of life. + +At his father's death, when Great Masterhouse with the good slice of +land belonging to it passed into his hands, he was fully prepared to +do his duty by his inheritance, and in this he was supported by his +mother, who was a practical woman, as well as by his own dislike of +being bested in the affairs of life, a failing to profit in any way by +his advantages. In other words, he hated to be done, and she, like +many other worthy persons whose minds are professedly set above this +froward world, hated it too. + +Mrs. Walters had been right in many deeds of her married life, though +she had not, perhaps, made her sterling virtues very attractive to her +husband and son. Those inclined to blame her for this were too quick +in forgetting that her life had been no bed of roses, and that to one +of her type, daily contact with a weak, idle nature like that of Eli +was a perpetual martyrdom. She was an utterly humourless woman, and +her want of humour, which is really no less than the want of a sense +of proportion, added a thousand-fold to her trials. + +She took everything too hard, giving to each untoward trifle which +crossed her path the value of a calamity, with the result that the +mountain she had created fell and crushed her. She was truthful and +upright in the highest degree, and though her hardness and pride +repelled her husband and her want of elasticity wearied him to the +verge of madness, her integrity was a matter of admiration to him. His +weaker spirit might have been dominated by hers, but for that touch of +originality in him which forbade his being entirely swayed by another. +He was a man addicted to cheerful company, joviality and +good-fellowship; in conversation he was a desperate liar, which made +him none the less amusing to his friends on market-days, and they +rallied round him with unfailing constancy, receiving his sprightly +ideas with guffaws of laughter, slapping their own legs, or other +people's backs--whichever chanced to be handiest--as his wit struck +them in assailable places. + +When he first married, Eli was very much in love with his unsuitable +companion, but the day soon came when he grew tired of her. He wearied +of her dark, hawk-faced beauty, and her narrowness of mind oppressed +him; his want of seriousness also bred a contempt in her heart which +she allowed him to feel plainly. It was not long before this led to +quarrels--of a mild kind, it is true--but enough to make husband and +wife see the mistake they had committed; and when their first child, a +boy, arrived, Anne Walters wrapped herself up in her baby's existence, +finding in it an outlet for the intense feeling which had all her life +been dormant, and was now awake in her for the first time. At Rhys' +birth, some two years later, she had little to bestow on him but a +well-meaning interest, for her whole soul was occupied with her eldest +born; so Eli, longing for companionship of some kind, took possession +of him and proceeded to alternately spoil and neglect him. + +Between the two, as the child grew older, there existed a curious +relationship, more like a defensive alliance between two small powers +against a greater one than anything else, tacit, unspoken, and, +strange to say, better understood by the boy than by the man. + +Eli stood in awe of his wife, and young Rhys knew it; he was not +afraid of her himself, for fear was a sensation he was physically +incapable of feeling, but he saw in his father's society a road of +escape from Anne, whose unsympathetic attitude towards his youthful +errors was at once dull and inconvenient. A worse education for a +little boy could hardly be imagined, and Rhys' shrewdness was perhaps +a source of greater danger to his character than any quality he +possessed; he was too acute to be deceived in Eli, and he knew +perfectly the worth of an affection which, though genuine of its kind, +would not hesitate to neglect him if it grew tired of him, or to +sacrifice him if he stood in the way. + +The one great good which he got out of his profitless childhood was an +intense familiarity with outdoor life. The sky was his ceiling, the +earth his carpet, and he wandered about the pastures around, the +mountain above, and the valley below, with the same assurance that +other little boys of his age felt in wandering about their nurseries. +He knew the habits of every living creature and every nesting-place +for miles; he could climb like a mountain-sheep or run like a hare, +and his observation of Nature became so highly developed as to make +him, in some respects, very like an animal. He knew the meaning of +every sound, distant or near, and the whole world teemed with voices +for him which it generally keeps for birds and beasts alone. + +It was only natural that he should be attracted by the delights of +poaching, and an inveterate poacher he became; he set nets for +partridges and laid night-lines in the trout-streams of the valley, +and no outdoor rascality entered his head which he did not immediately +attempt. On the few occasions on which he was caught, Mrs. Walters, +after rebuking him severely, took him to his father and insisted on +his being thrashed, and when this happened, Rhys knew that there was +no escape; so he took his punishment with as much equanimity as he +could, merely resolving to work his next escapade on more careful +lines. + +When he was five years old his brother died; had he lived to be older +he might have done something to humanize the selfish and uncivilized +little boy, and his death, which was the blackest grief that Anne had +ever known, seemed to turn the poor woman's already hard heart into +stone. With her elder child she lost the one real interest she had +contrived to glean from her narrow life, and when the funeral was over +and there was nothing left but an aching blank, she turned further +from her husband and the boy, shutting herself round with a wall of +indifference. Rhys was absolutely nothing to her. She was glad that he +was so strong and healthy, and sorry that he was so disobedient; +beyond that she hardly gave him a thought. He was a sealed book to +her--a sealed book with a binding which offended her and which it did +not occur to her to open. + +It was just at this time that an earnest preacher, a light in his sect +and a man of extraordinary personal influence, came to hold meetings +among the Methodists of the mountain district, and Anne went to hear +him speak. With her grief, her silent bitterness, and her unsatisfied +life, she was an ideal subject upon which this man's zeal could act. +Before he had well begun what he called his "struggle for her soul," +the work was half done and the issue decided; the hard doctrines and +straitened ideas which he preached appealed to her in a way that +nothing else could; the wholesale condemnation of sinners which he +announced was entirely in accordance with a type of mind that had ever +hated the Devil more than it had loved God, and she threw herself +wholly into the sea of his relentless Christianity, for there were no +half-measures with her. + +Eli looked on at the spectacle with apprehension, quailing as he +thought of her possible attempts at his own conversion to the paths of +the more active and elaborate righteousness. But as time went on, and +he found that his personal salvation formed no part of his wife's +plans, he was a good deal relieved and felt very grateful to the +preacher, welcoming anything which helped to keep them separate and +divert her attention from his comfortable habits of life. He never +interfered with her in any way, though he would sometimes stroll into +the kitchen when a meeting was being held there, loitering about and +pretending that he was not quite sober, while he internally enjoyed +the agonies she suffered from fear that her decorous guests should +suspect what she perceived with horror. Thus did the malicious old +farmer gratify his sense of humour. + +So the years passed on until it occurred to the pair that Rhys' +education should be considered. He must go to school, and they +resolved to send him to the Grammar School at Hereford. The small +amount of pride that Eli had was centred in the pleasant thought that +he was, in his calling, a rich man. With all his laxity he had been +shrewd in business, and could look round on his possessions with the +knowledge that there was enough and to spare for his son and his son's +son after him. The boy should better himself in life, should have the +education which he had lacked, should spend his money with the best of +the gentlefolks' children with whom he would be brought into contact +at Hereford. The end of it was that Rhys, considerably interested in +his new position, found himself one morning on the top of the Hereford +coach with a Bible given him by Anne in one pocket and +half-a-sovereign given him by Eli in the other. He was very much +pleased with the half-sovereign. + +His feelings as he rolled along were mixed. He could not but welcome +the prospect of the livelier interests and companionships before him, +but, at the same time, he knew very well that that freedom which had +been the breath of his nostrils would be his no longer; and, until he +saw how much he might be compensated for its loss in other ways, he +could not exactly rejoice. As regards any sentiment at leaving his +parents, he had not much. + +He did not flatter himself that either would miss him to any +distressing degree, and though he felt a little lump in his throat as +he bade good-bye to his father, the sensation had passed almost as +soon as he was out of sight. No, a new world was opening, and he +prepared to plunge into it with a curiosity at once suspicious and +hopeful. + +Education in those days was neither so cheap nor so general as it has +become now, and boys like himself, and even the children of much more +well-to-do farmers than was Eli Walters, had to content themselves +with what schooling could be got in their native villages. Hereford +Grammar School was chiefly attended by sons of professional men, and +many of the neighbouring squires were satisfied to let their boys pick +up all the learning they needed there. When Rhys, with his +uncultivated country speech, made his appearance, many were inclined +to despise him, holding aloof from him as from a being vastly inferior +to themselves; and, when they found out, as they soon did, that his +father was a common farmer who worked with his hands, some became +actively aggressive and began, after the manner of boys, to practise +small cruelties upon the new-comer. + +But they had caught the wrong man, and it was not long before their +mistake was brought home to them. Rhys, with all his faults, was no +shivering milksop fresh from his mother's apron-strings, but a hard +and cautious young savage, with a heavier fist than most of his +oppressors could boast of, and a cheerful willingness in using it +freely. + +So, though the bigger lads taught him the healthy lesson that there +were higher powers than himself, his contemporaries soon decided that +it was wiser to leave him alone. Besides, how was juvenile +snobbishness to resist the attractions of one who could make such +catapults and slings, knew things that only gipsies and poachers +understood, and was familiar with phases of outdoor life which they +had never so much as imagined? Though he made few friends during the +six years he spent at school, he had many admirers, and as, little by +little, his accent dropped from him and he adopted the manners of his +associates, he began to be looked upon as something of a personage, +and left school with a veneer of sophistication which hid from +ordinary view the fact that he had no more changed in character than a +man changes who accustoms himself to the perpetual wear of his Sunday +clothes. + +When he returned to Great Masterhouse and settled down to help his +father on the farm, he was accepted by his kind as a much-travelled +and very fine young man. On market-days in Llangarth, Eli was not a +little proud of his tall son with his green tail-coat and superior +air, and he smiled complacently to see how the young fellows nudged +each other as he went down the street, and what admiring glances were +cast after him by the farmers' daughters. Among the latter he produced +the same effect as an eligible duke might in a community of society +young ladies. Poor old Eli, lying on his death-bed a few years later, +told himself that it would not be his fault should Rhys be +unsuccessful in life. + + * * * * * * + +Rhys Walters rode along the plateau until he passed the Boiling Wells. +There he turned again eastwards, going down an old grass-grown +watercourse, the bed of which had become something like a path. The +mist was not so thick, and a light showed through it a short way in +front, like a little staring eye with long shining eyelashes piercing +the damp. As he neared the house from which it proceeded, a door +opened, letting a luminous stream into the fog, and a head peered out. + +"Be that Mr. Walters?" said a voice. + +"Here I am," replied Rhys, slipping from his horse. + +The man came out and led the animal away to the back of the house, and +Rhys entered, wiping the damp from his hair. + +----- + +[1] Pronounced "Reece." + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE DIPPING-POOL + +A GROUP of men, sitting round a blazing fire, some on heavy wooden +chairs, some on a long settle, looked up as he entered. All were +smoking. Those on the chairs gave them a deferential push back when +they saw the new-comer. + +"Very damp night outside," observed Rhys, nodding to the company. + +"Indeed, so it be, sir. Come you in here near to the warm-ship, Master +Walters," said a jolly-looking individual who sat closest to the +chimney-corner, pointing invitingly to his next neighbour's chair. His +next neighbour, an undersized man with a goat's beard, called Johnny +Watkins, jumped up obediently. + +"Thanks, thanks, don't disturb yourself," said Rhys politely, seating +himself in the corner of the settle, "this will do very well for me." + +The fire-place round which they were gathered was the broad kitchen +range of the Dipping-Pool Inn, in which modest establishment bar and +kitchen were one and the same place. Being situated in such an +out-of-the-way spot, it was too little frequented by any but the few +travellers over the mountain to make any addition profitable, Hosea +Evans, the landlord, whose sign hung outside, entertaining his guests +comfortably in the kitchen. He was assisted in his business by one +Mary Vaughan, who stood in what would have been the character of +barmaid in a larger hostelry, and brought to the company such drinks +as were called for from the inner room in which she sat. Within the +memory of a few old people, the dried-up bed of the brook, which made +a rough path to the house, had been a swift stream running into a pool +before the door. This had been used for sheep-washing at one time, and +Hosea, when he took the little inn, had not troubled himself to invent +a new name for it; so, though its appropriateness was not apparent, +the "Dipping-Pool" it remained. + +It was an unpretending, whitewashed house, squatting in the green +creek as though ashamed to be seen within range of the public eye. +Many people thought that it had reason to be so, as its present +proprietor had borne an indifferent character for honesty in certain +small ways, and had left Llangarth, where he had formerly lived, on +account of the inconvenient attitude of local opinion. He was a +thick-set, smiling man, of florid complexion, round whose broad face +the red hair, beard, and whiskers formed such a perfect halo, that +now, as he entered the kitchen and his head appeared over a wooden +screen standing at the door, it produced something of the effect of a +sunrise. + +"Well, Mr. Walters," he began, when he had shut the door of the inner +room carefully and sat down cumbrously beside Rhys, "and how be you +minded to do?" + +The company took its pipe out of its mouth and turned its gaze upon +the young man. There was a pause. "There's a good deal against it," +said Rhys, returning the stare, "but let's have a drop of something +hot before we sit down to the matter. How about the kettle, Hosea, and +a bottle of spirits?" + +"Wal, I don't have no objection, not I," hazarded Charley Turnbull, +the man by the chimney-corner, drawing a large hand across his mouth, +and reflecting that Rhys would pay for it. + +A call from Hosea brought in Mary Vaughan. She stood waiting while he +gave the order with her eyes fixed upon Rhys, who was studiously +contemplating his muddy boots; he never so much as looked up to bid +her good-evening. + +"When you've brought the liquor, don't be settin' up, girl," said the +landlord. "Go you up-stairs and leave we to our bysiness. I'll mind +the hearth." + +Mary's look wandered over the assembly, lighting for a moment upon +Rhys Walters; her eyes were large and brilliant, and shone out of her +serious face like flames; there seemed to be a slow fire behind them. +She made no reply, but brought what was wanted, leaving the room with +an indistinct good-night. + +"If her did get to know, it would not do for we--indeed that it would +not," remarked Johnny Watkins, shaking his head. + +"Lawk! no; her would soon tell the old man," answered Turnbull. "Be +the door fast behind her, Hosea?" + +"Yes, sure." + +"But put you the key well into the hole," continued Charley, "that +there be no sound to go through." + +"Be her a wag-tongued wench?" asked a man who had not yet spoken, and +who, having come from a distance, was a stranger to some of those +present. + +"No, no," replied Hosea, "but her father do keep the toll-gate down +below Pig Lane." + +"Ah, well, to be sure." + +The company again sat silent while the kettle was put on to boil and +the fire stirred up; a shower of sparks flew out as Hosea punched and +turned the logs with a plebeian-looking poker. + +"Master Rhys--beg pardon, Mr. Walters, sir--no offence. Us have knowed +ye since ye was no more nor a little lump of a boy," began Charley, +who regarded himself as spokesman, with the every-day result that he +was quietly accepted as such. "If you be to come along of us at the +time we know of, us have thought, and indeed we all do say"--here he +looked round upon the men for corroboration--"that Rebecca bein' a +Bible person and a leading woman of power and glory in this job, we +will be proud if you be she." + +The orator stopped and replaced his pipe in his mouth as a kind of +full-stop to the sentence. + +Rhys Walters had never before considered himself in the light of a +"Bible person," and he smiled slightly. "Is that your wish?" he +inquired, scanning the faces in the firelight. + +"Yes, surely," said Johnny Watkins, his squeaky voice audible above +the murmur of assent. "Stevens and I were sayin'"--here he pointed to +a man, who, finding himself brought under popular notice, wriggled in +his chair with mingled anguish and enjoyment--"just before you come +in, sir, what a beautiful female you would be." + +Rhys, who had about as much resemblance to a woman as a pointer has to +a lap-dog, laughed, and the others, at this, laughed too, while Johnny +Watkins began to perceive in himself a wit of the highest order. + +"It's very well I'm a clean-shaved man," said Walters, stroking his +lean jaw. "It wouldn't have done for your style of looks, Hosea." + +The company, being one to which a personality never failed to appeal, +again roared with laughter, and Watkins saw with dismay that a greater +than he had arisen; he made one mighty effort. + +"Yes," he remarked, at the pitch of his penetrating voice, "yes. An a' +might have set fire to the toll-gate with a's whiskers!" + +Hosea turned upon him an awful glare, for his red hair had long been a +weapon in the hands of his foes. He had no sprightliness of retort, +but he was determined that Johnny's pleasantries should not continue +for want of a solid, knock-down blow. + +"If I had a beard like a billy-goat waggin' about under an ass's +face," he said solemnly, "I'd keep it out o' the sight o' folks, for +fear it might be made a mock of--that I would." + +Johnny Watkins gave a gasp which made his beard wag more vehemently +than ever, and retired abashed into silence. + +Rhys had not come through the fog at that hour of the evening to +listen to profitless disputes. The matter in hand, which was a +projected attack upon a toll-gate not far from Llangarth, interested +him more now that he had become the prominent person in it, for he had +arrived at the inn uncertain whether or no he would lend active +support to the affair, it being more of a piece of out-of-the-way +amusement to him than anything affecting his opinions. + +At this time a wave of wrath which had a considerable foundation of +justice was surging over South Wales. By a general Highway Act, a new +principle of road-government had been brought in, under which the +trustees of turnpike roads might raise money through tolls, sufficient +to pay the interest of the debts and keep the highways in repair. For +this reason the gates were withdrawn from the operation of the Highway +Laws, the tolls increased in amount, and every means used by those in +authority to uphold the revenues of their trusts. The gates had, in +some cases, been taken by professional toll-renters, men who came from +a distance, and who were consequently regarded with suspicion by the +intensely conservative population of the rural districts. These +people, having higher rents to make up, had refused to give credit to +farmers, or to allow them to compound for tolls on easy terms as had +been formerly their custom. + +The effect of all this had been to rouse the public to a state of +fury, which had resulted, in many places, in serious riots. In +carrying out the provisions of their respective Acts, the trustees +were under little or no control; they erected fresh gates, interpreted +the laws as they thought fit, and there was no appeal from their +decisions. Added to these difficulties, a succession of wet harvests, +and the fall in price of live stock had reduced the farmers' capital, +and they and their dependents resented, as well they might, the new +devices for raising money out of their emptying pockets. + +The first riot had broken out at Carmarthen, and was the signal for a +series of like disturbances all over the country. Although it had +taken place in May, and now, as Rhys Walters and his companions sat by +the Dipping-Pool fire, the year had almost reached its end, the reign +of terror created was still going on, though it had not, so far, begun +in Breconshire. The Carmarthen rioters had banded themselves together +about three hundred strong, under a person whom the law never +succeeded in identifying, and who, assuming the name of "Rebecca," +appeared dressed as a woman and mounted upon a black horse. "Rebecca +and her children," as they were called by the terrified neighbourhood, +marched upon one of the gates in the town armed with every conceivable +kind of weapon, pitchforks, pistols, hay-knives--to say nothing of the +crowbars and the mallets which they carried with them and with which +they intended to destroy the bar. "Rebecca" had been chosen as a name +for their captain in reference to an Old Testament text, which tells +how Rebecca, bride of Isaac, on leaving her father's house, was +blessed by Laban in these words: "Let thy seed possess the gate of +those that hate them." + +About two o'clock in the morning the strange tribe, some mounted and +some on foot, had appeared near the toll and placed sentinels in the +surrounding streets; and, before the astonished inhabitants, roused +from their beds by the noise and the loud orders of Rebecca, could +realize what was happening, the work of destruction was going bravely +forward, the rioters using their implements like demons, not only upon +the toll-bar, but upon all who tried to hinder them. + +The toll-keeper came to his door remonstrating with the mob, but his +appearance provoked a shower of stones, and he fled back into shelter +pursued by shouts and jeers. His wife, a brave woman and a much better +man than her husband, then came out and stood quietly in the middle of +the road, and, in the lull of surprise which her action provoked, +entreated the leader to spare the house, as her child lay dangerously +ill within. One or two of the more ruffianly flung stones at the +woman, but Rebecca turned upon them, dealing one of them a blow which +sent him staggering, and announcing her intention of going to find out +the truth. + +Then, in the grey early light, the extraordinary figure, gigantic in +its female dress, dismounted and stalked after the distracted mother +into the toll-house. When it emerged, the order was given to retreat, +and the cavalcade dashed through the wrecked gate and disappeared in +various directions into the country, just as the local police, +according to time-honoured custom, were arriving half-an-hour too +late. One or two dismounted stragglers were caught and punished, but +the ringleader and most of the offenders escaped, though every effort +was made to trace them; but it was whispered with bated breath that +Rebecca rode abroad in distinguished company, and that many of the +younger farmers, and even the gentry, were not above suspicion. + +After this matters grew worse and worse. The success at Carmarthen +encouraged the lawlessness that broke out on every side, and in some +districts there was hardly a toll-bar remaining intact. Seeing this, +the magistrates took decided action, the military were called out and +special police enrolled, with the result that when the opposing forces +met, each encounter was more serious and bloody than the last. + +The panic spread on all sides. People told each other lying tales of +cruelties practised by the devastating hordes, with details which made +the hair of the respectable stand upright, while children who had read +of Rebecca in their Bible lessons and now gathered from their elders +that she was actually going about, fancied that Old Testament days had +come back. They were prepared at any moment to meet any sort of Sunday +character, from Joseph in his coat of many colours to Satan himself, +horned, tailed, black, and pitchforked, and without a stitch of +clothes upon his unhallowed person. + +"I think I shall have to come with you, neighbours," said Rhys, "and +we had better be stirring and settle our doings. We should be ready +for the first week of the year, for we don't want the moon rising on +us too early. She ought to be up about eleven; that would do well +enough. We'd be done and home by then." + +"And how about horses?" inquired Hosea. "Them knowin' old badgers in +Llangarth will soon see who's movin'. An' ye can't dress up a beast as +ye can a man." + +"Trew enough," observed Charley Turnbull solemnly. He was beginning to +wonder how he could get hold of a horse of some one else's. + +"As to that, I shall ride a young mare I haven't had above a week. +She's never been seen in the valley, and a lick of white paint down +the faces of some o' your nags, and a white stocking here and there +makes a wonderful difference. Those who have white-footed ones can use +the blacking brush. And you must risk something," added Rhys, looking +hard at Turnbull, and guessing his thoughts exactly. + +"Woman's clothing be a fine protection," remarked Stevens; and +Turnbull wished he had not been so reckless in giving away the part of +Rebecca. + +"Be you to ride all o' one side like the wenches do?" inquired the man +who came from a distance, "or will ye put your leg across the saddle +like a Christian?" + +"Oh, I'll ride astride," said Rhys, "or I shan't be able to lay about +me so well if need be." + +"Petticoats an' all?" + +"I suppose so." + +Here a roar of laughter went up at the thought of his appearance, +which Mary could hear plainly in the room overhead. + +Had poor old Eli been in his son's place, the whimsicalities of his +own costume would have given him hours of study and enjoyment. But it +was not so with Rhys; humour was not predominant in him. He did not +live sufficiently outside himself for that. + +"I must look round for some sort of clothes," he said, rather stiffly. +"It would be well for everybody to have something to hide their faces. +I'll get Nannie Davis up at the farm to lend me an old sun-bonnet." + +"An' I'll give ye a brown bit of a gown my sister Susan left here when +her was over for Crishowell feast September last," volunteered Hosea. +"It's been hangin' behind the door ever since." + +"An' I'll find ye a cloak more fit for a skeercrow than for any other +person," said a man called Jones. "Will ye have it?" + +"Oh, yes, it'll do," replied Rhys. + +"G'arge! an' you'll be a right hussy! Fit to skeer the old limb +without any o' we." + +Here there was another laugh. + +"When ye spoke o' skeercrows," observed Johnny Watkins, who had been +silent much longer than he liked, "it minds me o' a crewel turn one o' +they figgers served my poor mother. Father could never abide the sight +o' one since." + +Rhys looked encouragingly at Johnny. He was nothing loth to change the +subject. "What was that?" he asked. + +"It were when old Hitchcock were parson down at Crishowell. He and his +lady had a great notion o' each other, an' when each fifth of August +come round--bein' their marriage-day--any one as did go to the +Vicarage with a 'good luck to ye, sir and madam,' or 'many happy +returns o' the day,' got a bottle o' beer from Madam Hitchcock to take +home an' drink their good health in. My mother, though she were a bit +hard o' seein', did use to go, an' never missed a weddin'-day from the +time her come to the parish to the day her was taken up on high. One +year, as her went, her peered over the garden wall an' dropped a bob +to the parson as he was in the midst o' the onion-bed standing quiet +an' lookin' at the fruit. At the house, the missis were at the window +an' her bobbed again. 'Wish you luck o' this day, ma'am,' says she. +'Thank you, Betty,' says madam, smilin' sweet. 'And good luck to the +Reverend Hitchcock that's standin' among the onions outside. Never did +I see the reverend parson look so well an' handsome,' says mother, +smilin' an' laughin' more than was needful, her bein' a bit bashful. +The lady give a look at her so as poor mother were fairly dazed, an' +down come the window wi' a bang an' madam was gone. Mother waited +there three-quarters of an hour full, until a lad were sent out to +tell her to go home an' no ale. One day as her an' father was passin', +her said to father, says mother, 'Hitchcock be a wonderful man for +flowers. Never a day do I go by but he's there squintin' at them.' + +"'Lawk, you poor foondy[1] woman,' says father, 'do parson have straw +round a's legs? 'Tis the skeercrow.' An' when he found how the dummy +had cheated him out o' his beer, never could he look one i' the face +again. 'Twas crewel, that it was." + +----- + +[1] Foolish. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AT THE YEW-STUMP AND AFTER + +THE mist lifted a little as Rhys Walters left the Dipping-Pool and +turned out of the watercourse on to smooth turf. He could not help +smiling as he thought of Charley Turnbull's misgivings, though in his +heart he sympathized with them more than he would admit, even to +himself. + +He looked forward with pleasure to the coming raid, and with still +more to the prominent part he was to play in it, but through his +pleasure ran the devout hope that he would not be recognized. Not that +he feared the law more than he feared anything else, but his +respectability was dear to him, as dear as his love of adventure, and +the struggle to eat his cake and have it was a part of his inmost +soul. + +Only one person at Great Masterhouse was to know his secret, and that +was Nannie Davis, an old servant who had belonged to the establishment +since his birth, and who had screened and abetted many of his boyish +pranks. She was built on an entirely opposite pattern to her mistress, +and the unregenerate old woman had often felt a positive joy in his +misdoings, the straitened atmosphere which clung round Mrs. Walters +being at times like to suffocate her. From her Rhys intended hiding +nothing. He knew that, whatever protest she might see fit to make, she +would neither betray him nor grudge him the clothes necessary to his +disguise. His plan was, briefly, to tell his mother that he had +business in Abergavenny, a town some fourteen miles on the other side +of the mountain, and, having ostentatiously departed for that place, +to make for the Dipping-Pool. To the Dipping-Pool also he would return +when he had seen the adventure through, and from thence in a day or +two home in peace. At least so he trusted. + +The direct line from the inn to Great Masterhouse took him past one of +the many remains of old buildings to be found round the mountain. Only +a yard or so of broken wall indicated where a long-disused chapel had +stood, and the roots of a yew marked the turf; where passing animals +had scraped the bark with their hoofs, reddish patches proved what +manner of tree the solitary stump had been. Some stones had been +quarried from the ground close by, leaving a shallow pit almost +overgrown with grass. + +It was a dismal enough place, he thought, as he rode past, and his +heart almost stopped as he heard his own name sounding from the +quarry. Having found superstition inconvenient he had long ago rid +himself of it, still the voice in the mist sent a perceptible chill +through him. + +"Rhys! Rhys!" came from the hollow, and a figure was distinguishable +by the old wall. + +He turned towards the spot, but the horse reared straight up; he had +his own ideas about things which sprang out of mists. Rhys was never +cruel to animals, seldom even rough, and he patted his neck, gripping +him tightly with his knees and pressing him forward with those +indescribable noises dear to horses' hearts. + +The voice rang out again, this time with a very familiar tone. + +"Mary! Is that you?" he called sharply, dismounting by the wall. + +"Oh, Rhys!" she cried, as he came face to face with her, "don't you be +angry! I've come all the way from the Dipping-Pool so as to see you +here." + +And as she caught sight of his expression, she burst into violent +weeping. + +He stood in front of her frowning, though the sight of her distress +touched him a little through his vexation. She had always touched him +rather--that was the worst of it. + +"What have you come here for?" he asked, feeling great misgivings as +to the reason. "Come, sit here like a good girl and tell me. Lord! +your dress is dripping. 'Tis like a madwoman to go running over the +country these damp nights." + +And he drew her down upon the yew-stump and put his arm about her. The +horse began to crop the short grass. He was completely reassured, and +like many who considered themselves his betters, he found his stomach +a source of much solace and occupation. Mary leaned her head against +Rhys, and her sobs ceased as she found his arm round her; she was cold +and wearied, and she was suffering an anxiety that was more than she +could well bear. + +"Rhys," she said, "I know all about it. Mr. Evans was telling Turnbull +o' Tuesday evening, an' I heard every word. Don't you go--don't you. +I've come all the way through this lonesome place to ask you." And she +clung to him, imploring. He sat silent for a moment. + +"Damnation," he said at last between his teeth. + +Mary's tears broke out afresh. "Now you hate me for it, I know," she +sobbed, breaking away and standing before him, a slight wild figure +against the clearing atmosphere. "But oh! how could I help it?" + +"Nonsense," said the young man impatiently, "come back and don't be a +fool. I couldn't hate you, and that you know." + +"Is that true?" she asked, clasping her hands and fixing her large +eyes on him. The wet mist had made her hair limp and heavy, and a lock +of it showed on her shoulder, under the cloak she had thrown over her +head. Even tears, cold, and wet could not make her anything but an +attractive woman, and he put out his hand and took hers. It was like a +piece of ice. + +"You silly wench," he said, pulling her towards him and kissing her. +"Why do you come out like this, catching your death of cold? Not but +what I'm glad you came, all the same, for I don't seem to see you +now-a-days, as I used to. What is it you want me to do?" + +"Don't go to the toll-gate wi' them Rebecca people," she begged. "It's +a black business, and oh! if you were to get caught what would they do +to you? Rhys, there's a man in Carmarthen jail that I used to know, +and I've heard tell that they won't let him out for years an' years. +And what would become of me?" + +"Mary," he said sharply, "have you told any one of this?" + +"Never a soul have I spoken one word to, as God above made me," she +answered. "'Twas likely I'd tell any one, and you in it; why should +you think so bad of me, Rhys? I'd never mistrust you like that. An' +for my own sake----" + +He interrupted her with another kiss. + +"Don't be angry, my dear, I don't distrust you at all. And I love you +truly, Mary, indeed I do." + +"Well then, if you do, you'll promise not to go along with Evans an' +the rest, won't you?" she coaxed, putting her arms round his neck. +"Promise, promise." + +"I can't, Mary, I can't, so there's an end of it." + +"Very well," she said in a trembling voice, "then good-bye, for I'd +best be going." + +She took up a corner of her cloak, and pressed it to her eyes; there +was something infinitely pathetic in the gesture. It was an acceptance +of so much--more even than lay in that one interview. + +"Dear, don't you be afraid," said Rhys, "there's not the smallest +chance of any of us being caught. We have it spread all over the +country, that there's to be a fine to-do that night at the gate by the +river, and every constable will be down there and out of our way." + +"But the soldiers," said the girl; "they say they're hanging about +everywhere. They'll be pouncing out upon you--mark my words--wi' their +swords an' dreadful things, and, like as not, you'll be killed. Oh, +Rhys! Rhys!" + +"The soldiers will all be at the Wye gate with the police, you little +blockhead, if there are any at all." + +"Ah! you can't tell." + +"Well, if they do come," exclaimed he, with a laugh, "they're not +likely to catch me. If there's a run for it, I fancy I know this +country better than any young fool that ever put on a yeomanry uniform +and thought himself a soldier. Since you know so much, Mary, I may as +well tell you the whole job. I'm to set out for Abergavenny two days +beforehand, but I shan't go there, I shall go to the Dipping-Pool." + +"I'm glad of that," she said simply, "for then I'll see you." + +"And so," he went on without heeding her, "if the yeomanry should get +wind of it and come down to the gate, I shall have a good mare under +me, and I'll be into Abergavenny before the news of it gets even as +far as Great Masterhouse. There's a man there who will swear to my +having been in his house two days." + +"But how do you know they'll keep their mouths shut--them at the +Dipping-Pool, I mean? There's that Watkins, it's anything for talk wi' +him." + +He struck his fist on his knee. + +"I'll break every bone in his sneaking body if he says a word now or +after, and so I'll tell him. He's frightened out of his life of me as +it is, and I'll scare him still more." + +"Oh, Rhys, you're a wild man," she sighed, "and your look makes me +cold when you talk like that. Listen now, you won't hurt my father? +He's an old man, but he's not one o' those to stand by and see his +gate destroyed without a word. I mind him well when he could use his +hands wi' the best." + +"I won't lay a finger on him, Mary." + +The girl's heart smote her, when she remembered how her father's +danger had weighed on her mind, as she sat waiting for Rhys to come +by. Since seeing him, the old man had become but an afterthought; and +yet, she had always been reckoned a good daughter. But her world had +turned on a different pivot for the last six months. She recognized +that and sat silent. + +"You needn't fear about him," continued her companion, observing the +lines of repressed pain round her closed lips. + +"I wasn't thinking of that; Rhys, you know what I'm thinking about. +It's not the word for a maid to say to a man, but I must. When--when +is it to be, Rhys?" + +He plucked up a piece of grass and turned it over and over in his +fingers before he answered. To say the truth, he had no desire to +marry any one just now. That he loved the girl beside him he could not +deny; that she loved him and had trusted his word completely was a +fact of which he was profoundly aware. Of another fact he was +profoundly aware too, and that was, that, if he were to make her rue +it, he would be a blackguard. He did not want to be a blackguard, and +he hated the thought of her being in trouble; she was good and true +and loving, and she had, in spite of her position, a refined and +delicate beauty he never saw among the girls who made eyes at him in +Llangarth and giggled when he spoke to them. She would look lovely in +the pretty clothes and the surroundings his money would buy for her. +And, as he understood love, he loved her. + +But what was she? An inn servant; there was no getting over that. His +mother would be horrified were he to bring back a wife taken from such +a place. For this, it is true, he cared but little, for the antagonism +which had existed in his boyhood between himself and Mrs. Walters had +stayed unchanged. They were on more equal terms, that was all. What he +chose to do he would do. All the same his pride rebelled a little at +the thought of marrying Mary, for he liked making a figure in the eyes +of his neighbours. + +For a few seconds neither of them spoke. The horse had ceased cropping +and was pricking his ears; he whinnied softly, so softly that the +sound was hardly more than a gurgle in his throat, but it was enough +to make Rhys spring up and seize him by the bit. He led him down the +sloping side of the old quarry, dragging Mary with him, and the three +stood together at the bottom, Rhys in his shirt-sleeves, holding his +coat over the animal's head. The trot of horses came near as they +waited stock-still and breathless in their shelter; evidently the +riders, whoever they were, would pass very near, and the sound of +voices was audible between them and the direction of the Dipping-Pool. +The horse began to stamp about. + +"Mary," whispered Rhys, "they're coming close past us and they must +see this brute. Do you lie down flat by the wall and I'll mount and +meet them. I'll be bound they are lost in the mist and will think I am +in the same plight. I can lead them a bit wide of here, and, when +they're passed, go you home. I'll get on to Masterhouse; it's late, +and I'd have to be leaving you in any case." + +"But," she said anxiously, as though there had been no interruption, +"you haven't answered me. Tell me; it's to be soon, oh! isn't it?" + +"After the toll-gate business," he answered. She held up her face and +they kissed each other; then he hurried on his coat, threw himself +into the saddle and disappeared over the top of the quarry. + +He rode straight to the right across the path by which he judged the +riders to be advancing. As they came upon him, he slackened his pace +and stood, as though irresolute which way to take. The new-comers +pulled up and hailed him. "Hoy! sir!" shouted the foremost of the two. + +He turned and saw a man, some years younger than himself, followed by +another, whom at a rapid glance he took to be his servant. The master +seemed little more than a boy; he had a young, fresh face, and curly +hair flattened in rings upon his forehead by the moisture of the air. +He might have stood for an equestrian statue of frank and not too +intellectual youth. The servant carried a valise, and was mounted on +an elderly-looking flea-bitten grey. + +"I have lost myself in this infernal mist," observed the young fellow, +coming towards him, as he had hoped, and leaving the quarry on his +left. + +"Indeed, sir! So have I," replied Rhys. + +"Plague on it for that," he went on, "for now you can't tell me which +way to go." + +Walters smiled a little. "I don't know where you are bound for," he +remarked. + +The other laughed out. + +"Lord! I had forgotten that. Well then, my name is Harry Fenton, and I +am going down to my father's at Waterchurch." He said this all in a +breath, as though anxious to get it out and go on to more, if need be. + +"Then you are Squire Fenton's son, of Waterchurch Court," said Rhys, +who had suspected his identity ever since he came in sight. + +"Yes, that's who I am. And who are you?" + +The social standing of this competent-looking man puzzled him hugely. +Curiosity and admiration, too, struggled within him like dogs on a +leash, while good manners kept a faltering hold on the string. "Excuse +me, sir," he added, reddening, "if I am impertinent." + +"Not at all, sir," replied the other; "my name is Rhys Walters." This +information seemed to convey something to the younger man, for he +opened his eyes very wide and looked eagerly at his companion. + +"Oh!" he exclaimed, "then you are Walters of Great Masterhouse." Then +he reddened again as he remembered that he was talking to a farmer +whom he did not know, and had omitted the "Mister." + +"At your service," said Rhys. + +"It's surprising to find _you_ lost," observed Harry, treading as +accidentally upon the truth as if it had been a lady's dress. + +Rhys smiled, this time internally. Like a devout lover he loved +strategy, even more for herself than for what she might bring him. + +"I have heard that you know your way in places where no one else +does," continued young Fenton. + +"Masterhouse is so near the mountain that one has to be pretty sharp +these dark nights. But I've been baffled this time. However, I have a +suspicion where we are now. With your leave, sir, I'll go with you for +a little and put you on the right track." + +"I should like that very much," said Harry, gratefully, "but my home +and yours lie so far apart that it would be taking you much out of +your road." + +"The mist is clearing, so that, when I've left you, I can canter home +in twenty minutes. It will be no trouble." + +"Oh, thank you indeed; I am afraid my poor mother will think I am +bogged, or have fallen in with Rebecca; women are always nervous," +said the boy, with a male air which was entirely lost on Rhys. At the +mention of women his thoughts had flown to the quarry hard by, and he +was anxious to push on and leave the coast clear for Mary's escape. + +They went steadily forward, side by side, the elder man steering west +along the plateau, to where the lanes began to run down to Crishowell, +the younger riding unquestioning alongside. The servant jogged quietly +along in the rear. + +"That's a good-looking nag you have under you, Mr. Walters," remarked +Harry, when they had gone some way, "and he seems in good condition +too." + +Rhys pinched the bay's neck critically. + +"Not bad," he said. "Yes, he's a nice little beast. I like him as well +as any I've got." + +"Ah," said Harry, "and I suppose you have plenty more like him." He +sighed wistfully, remembering his fellow-traveller's reputed wealth. +He loved horses dearly, but though he was Squire Fenton's eldest son, +the one he was riding represented his whole stud. While there were Bob +and Tom and Llewellyn to be provided for, he had to do as best he +could with one, and Bob and Tom and Llewellyn shared his tastes. Not +that he grudged his brothers anything, for he was much too generous, +but he could not help envying the man beside him. He wished, too, that +he had something to serve as a yeomanry charger besides his own horse, +for, by all accounts, there would be work soon. That was what was +bringing him home. + +"There have been tremendous doings at Carmarthen," he remarked, after +a pause. + +"Yes," said Rhys, quietly, "and I suppose we shall soon see the same +here. I believe the yeomanry are to come out too. There's a great raid +pending in these parts." + +"That's what I have come down for," replied his companion, a glow of +interest rising in his face. "They'll have us out at last, and I hope +we shall get some fun for our pains. Have you heard much about it?" + +"It's a good deal talked of. They talk too much, these rioters," +replied Rhys with a short laugh, riding up closer to Fenton. "Never +you mind, sir, how I know it, but know it I do. It's to take place +before long, and it's to be the Wye gate, down by the river at +Llangarth." + +"By Gad! is it? Well, we'll come out as strong as we can and be a +match for the whole crew. You are a yeomanry man, aren't you?" + +"No, I am not. Though I have often thought----" + +"Ah, but you'll come out, surely Mr. Walters!" interrupted Harry, +cutting the sentence short, "a man like you, with the Lord knows how +many horses and men!" + +"I should dearly like it," answered Rhys, "but I am going to +Abergavenny very soon, and I cannot tell when I may have to be off. +It's an urgent matter. It may just fall out that I'm at Abergavenny +when I most want to be here; and I can't put it off either, or go till +I'm sent for." + +"What a monstrous pity!" There was vexation in Harry's voice. Besides +his zeal for law and order as exemplified by fighting and pursuing, he +was strongly attracted by this man and longed to see more of him. + +They had come down the side of a straggling thorn hedge, and now, at +its angle, they halted by a gate. + +"Now," said Rhys, "this lane will take you down into Crishowell. +There's no mist below, if I know anything, and you'll see your way to +Waterchurch easily. So here we will part." + +The boy held out his hand. + +"A thousand thanks for your company," he said cordially. "And you +won't fail us if you can help it, will you?" + +"If it's possible to be there, I'll be there somehow," was the reply. + +And in that Rhys Walters spoke truth. + + + +CHAPTER V + +REBECCA + +AS though to drop connection with its predecessor and to start the +world afresh, the new year brought a change of weather. The wind, +which for some time had lain in the south-west, was veering round to +the east, and the sodden earth was drying herself rapidly. Rheumatism +was becoming a less general theme for conversation in Crishowell, and +people's clothes were again seen hanging out to dry in gardens. +Forlorn-looking strings, which had stretched nakedly from pole to +pole, now upheld smocks, petticoats, and well-patched trouser-legs, +whose active prancings in the breeze almost made the spectators' legs +leap in sympathy. Four or five old men, whose goings-out and +comings-in gauged the state of the barometer as accurately as if they +had been occupants of pasteboard "weather-houses," were to be met +about; and Bumpett, the pig-driver, whose excursions into foreign +parts a few miles away made him an authority on all matters, opined +that a frost was not far off. He also added that the roads would be +"crewell hard" by the Wye toll-gate, and that we "should see what we +should see." This information made the women look mysterious and snub +those of their sex who had not been observed in talk with the great +man; the men said less, though they smoked their pipes in a more +chastened manner. + +Meanwhile, the storm which had been brewed over the Dipping-Pool fire +was ready to burst. + +In a steep upland lane, about nine o'clock one evening, a little band +of horsemen was coming quietly down towards the valley. The high banks +crowned with ragged hazel on either hand and the darkness around (for +the moon was not due for an hour or so) made it difficult to +distinguish who or what they were. As gaps in the bank let in a little +extra illumination, and stars began to assert themselves over the +dispersing clouds, it could be seen that they were about twenty-five +in number, and that all, with one exception, wore masks. They were +fairly well mounted, and the strange person who kept a few yards ahead +of the rest rode an animal which any one, knowing even a little about +a horse, would have picked out at a glance. She was a liver-chestnut +mare just under sixteen hands, with a shoulder such as was rarely to +be found in the motley crowd of horseflesh at local fairs. Youth and a +trifle of inexperience were noticeable in her among the sober-stepping +and sturdy beasts following, and she mouthed her ring-snaffle as she +went. Her long bang tail swung at each stride, and her length of +pastern gave her pace an elasticity like that of a Spanish dancer. + +But if the mare was a remarkable figure in the little procession, her +rider was immeasurably more so, being, apparently, the tallest female +who had ever sat in a saddle. Her long cloak and voluminous brown +skirt fell in a dark mass against the beast's sides, giving her figure +a seeming length and height double that of any of her companions. On +her head she wore a large sun-bonnet, tied securely over a shock of +hair which looked false even in the scant light; the lower part of her +face was muffled in her cloak, so that but little feature could be +seen. The strange woman rode astride, and, as an occasional puff of +wind lifted her skirt, it revealed leggings and boots; one lean, brown +hand on the rein was visible under the concealing drapery, and the +other carried a heavy thorn stick. From under the shock of hair looked +the eyes of Rhys Walters. + +The whole company was formed of the same material which had met in the +inn kitchen the day after Christmas, with several additions and with +the exception of Johnny Watkins, whose heart had failed him at the +last moment, and of Charley Turnbull, who was nowhere to be seen. +Hosea Evans was there, unrecognizable in his black mask and cropped +whiskers, for he had parted with a portion of these adornments, +fearing that they might betray him. He had hesitated to shave +entirely, lest people should be too curious about his reasons for +doing so, and had merely trimmed them into less conspicuous limits +with the scissors. + +Every one was armed in some fashion or another. Sticks were the +principal weapons, though two or three carried pitchforks, and one of +the more ambitious spirits displayed an antiquated horse-pistol which +he would have been sorely put about to fire. A few of Rebecca's +followers were afoot, and had brought with them a crowbar and a couple +of serviceable mallets. These went more slowly behind the horses. + +The element of burlesque which pervaded the affair was not lost upon +Rhys, and it cooled him a little as he rode along, to think what a +ridiculous troop he was heading. His own garments, too, offended him +greatly, and he would have discarded them at the beginning, had he not +been sure that some one else would have put them on, and, with them, +assumed leadership of the band. He secretly determined to get rid of +them as best he might, when the night's work should begin. + +Crishowell village was in the centre of a loop which the Brecon road +made round it, and when the first few lights it contained at that hour +were visible in front, the party turned into the fields, avoiding its +vicinity and straggling along by hedges and by such cover as was +available. The highway lay like a grey ribbon in the starlight, and +they had the good fortune to cross it without meeting a human being; +only a prowling fox sneaked up one of the ditches as they passed. They +then entered the lane which opened before them, and, down it, made for +the other side of the loop, for there, just at its end, stood the +toll. + +At a bend of the way, Walters ran into a rider who was coming to meet +them, and the sudden stop which this caused in the narrow place had +the effect of bringing every one smartly up against his predecessor's +tail. As the new-comer was caught sight of by the huddled-up pack, a +loud laugh burst from all and made the empty lane ring. + +"Be quiet," cried Rhys angrily, under his breath. "You fools! can't +you keep from waking the whole place with your noise? Good God! what +sort of a tom-fool have we here?" + +Before the astonished young man stood a travesty of himself, dress, +dark cloak, sun-bonnet, and all, the only additions being a mask and a +white woollen comforter, one end of which hung down over a substantial +back. The rotund cheeks of its wearer swelled out the bonnet, the +strings of which were drawn almost to suffocation. The voice of +Charley Turnbull escaped, with apparent difficulty, from these +surroundings. + +Since the evening at the Dipping-Pool, Turnbull had been in a state of +the most cruel and poignant distress. Steven's remark had brought home +to him, too late, the truth that women's clothes would be a more +effectual disguise than all the masks and mufflers in the world; with +keen vexation he realized that he had overlooked that. The police's +likelihood to pursue the ringleader at all costs was nothing to him, +for he was a man of few ideas, and liable, when he had one, to make +the most of it, to the exclusion of all others. That sentence, +"Woman's clothing be a fine protection," rang in his ears from morning +till night, and, what was worse, from night till morning. + +As the days rolled on his agony increased. Often he was on the verge +of breaking out of the project altogether, but thoughts of the jeers +which would assail him robbed him even of the courage to do that. +Finally, he came upon a plan to meet his difficulties, the result of +which now brought him face to face with Rebecca and thus attired. + +"Here I am, Mr. Walters, sir," he began, "and I hope you won't take it +ill o' me that I be come lookin' so like yourself. You see, it were +this way. I says to myself, I says----" + +"Come on, come on," interrupted Rhys, "we must be moving. And be quiet +behind there, if you can. We are getting near the road." + +"I says to myself," went on Turnbull, keeping abreast of the mare's +walk at the risk of being jogged to pieces, "there's Mrs. Walters, I +says, a God-fearing lady as ever stepped. What would she do if aught +was to happen to you, sir? Ah, Master Rhys, we must think o' them at +home. So then, I thought this way--if there be two of us, them as be +after us won't know who to get hold on, they won't indeed. So you +see----" + +"Yes, yes, I understand," exclaimed the other, exasperated beyond +bearing; "for God's sake, get behind and let me be. We're pretty nigh +in sight of the lane's end." + +A little way down the Brecon road, not more than a couple of furlongs +off, rose the dark mass of the toll-house, its slates here and there +catching the starlight. Indistinct black bars could be seen crossing +the highway; above them burned the steady flame of the toll-gate +light. + +It was perfectly still, and not a footstep was to be heard coming or +going as Rhys pulled up. Several of the men, small farmers +principally, crowded round; their hearts were in the matter, and their +eager faces looked steadfastly towards him through the fog of horses' +breath which the fast-approaching frost was making. To them the matter +was sober earnest, and they meant to see it through to the end; the +burlesque view of it occurred to them not at all. Those with the +mallets and crowbar pressed up. + +"Give me a stone, Price." + +One of the men picked up a flint. Rhys took it and turned in his +saddle; he was getting excited himself. "Come after me down the +grass," he said, "and when you see the light go out, fall to." + +They cantered down the roadside to within a few yards of the +toll-house, and paused. + +Then they saw Rebecca's cloaked arm go up, a stone whizzed through the +air, there was a smash of splintering glass, and the light went out. + + * * * * * * + +At the same time another little body of horse and foot was gathered in +no very patient frame of mind a couple of miles off. The Wye toll-gate +in Llangarth stood at the beginning of the great bridge spanning the +river on the north side of the town, and, as it had been rumoured that +Rebecca was to make her descent upon that place, all the police +available were waiting there on foot as well as about twenty horsemen +picked from the flower of the Hereford yeomanry. + +The latter were cooling their heels in the courtyard of the Bull Inn, +which stood a little back from the street, while the police hung in a +group round the side door of that establishment, some member of the +force now and then moving off to look up the road for sign of the +approaching rioters or for anything to break the monotony of their +vigil. For six nights now they had been assembled in the same place +with no more exciting termination than being marched to the Police +Station and dismissed in the early morning, and they were getting +heartily tired of the experience. An occasional stamp from a horse or +a long-drawn yawn from one of the men was heard above the soft steady +roar of the Wye, which was shallow below the bridge and purred like a +contented animal over the shingle. The landlady looked out of a back +window on her way to bed, holding her hand before the tallow-candle +she carried. The light shone red through her fingers as she glanced +out upon the gallant figure of Harry Fenton, whose smart uniform +showed plainly in the glow streaming from the inn door upon the yard. +It was the first time she had ever seen him, as Waterchurch lay some +way off, and he had been much from home of late years. + +Quarter to ten sounded from Llangarth Church, and a sergeant of police +went to have another look up the quiet street. Harry gave his horse to +the man next him to hold and strolled after him, the landlady at the +window admiring the clank of his sword and the attractive jingle he +made as he went. + +As the two men stood at the corner, the silence of the street was +broken by an uneven clattering, and a boy, much out of breath and +weighted by an extremely heavy pair of country boots, came rushing +towards them over the cobbles. Harry caught him as he was about to +pass the courtyard. The boy tried to speak, but for want of breath was +obliged to desist. + +"Who is he?" asked Harry of the sergeant. + +The policeman took him by the shoulder and turned him round as +unceremoniously as if he had been a spinning-top, displaying the +purple face of a boy about eleven years old. + +"You're Howell Seaborne, as works for the parson of Crishowell, aren't +you?" said the man. "Howlie, they call him, sir." + +"Ya'as a' be. Can't you leave oi alone, 'stead o' shoikin' that woy?" + +"Wait a minute, give him breath," said young Fenton. + +The boy turned a pair of light, prominent eyes on the speaker, and, at +the same time, saw his uniform and the soldiers in the yard. He thrust +a grimy forefinger towards them. + +"It's them oi be come for!" he exclaimed, as he regained his wind. "Oi +were down in Crishowell Loine, doin' no 'arm, and oi see them +comin'--comin' all of a string wi' sticks an' guns----" + +"But who? What?" + +"Fifty men roiding an' a great woman." + +"When? Where?" cried Harry, catching hold of him much more roughly +than the sergeant had done. + +"Yew're 'urtin' me, sir," whined the boy. "Oi shan't tell nothin' till +yew leave go." + +Fenton took away his hand with a gesture of irritation. "Come on, no +nonsense," he said, "tell me at once, where were you?" + +"Down in the loine by Crishowell. They be all gone down to the goite +on the Brecon road; an' oi've been runnin' fit to burst to fetch the +soljers. It's Rebecca, it is." + +In two minutes the yeomanry were dashing out of the court, the police +holding by the soldiers' stirrups, meaning to keep up with them as +long as they could, and to drop off when the pace should become too +much for them. The boy flattened himself against the wall as they went +by. When they were round the corner, he tied up a loose bootlace and +looked about him. Then he went to a pump which stood on one side and +jerked the handle; a stream of water flowed out as he put his head +underneath and let it run copiously over his face. He had large front +teeth and a retreating chin, and, in the cascade, he looked not unlike +a drowning rabbit. When he had finished, he snuffled two or three +times, rubbed his countenance with his coat-sleeve, and set out from +the Bull yard at a steady jog-trot. How he could run at all in the +boots he wore was a mystery, but long practice, no doubt, had made it +possible. + +When the soldiers had turned along the road to Brecon and got clear of +the town, the police had, one by one, succumbed to the pace and might +be seen upon the highway in threes and fours, stepping out as best +they might. + +The riders kept to the grass as Rhys had done, partly to muffle the +sound of hoofs, and partly because the roads were fast hardening, and +in some places had become actually slippery. The little wind there was +was beginning to sting their ears, and the stars above to flash in the +frost. The clouds had rolled completely off and lay in a dark bank +along the western horizon; the night got gradually lighter. Harry and +a senior officer rode a little ahead, neither saying a word to the +other; their eyes were fixed on the stretch of road in front, and they +breathed hard. Far behind, the constables pressed along with that +hopeless feeling in their legs which the sight of retreating horses +creates. Last of all toiled Howlie Seaborne in his big boots. + +As Harry and his companion came round a slight bend, a sound, which, +so far, had been but an unintelligible vibration, struck on their ears +with meaning. The blows of heavy mallets were distinct, though the +wind went from them to the dark mass which surged and swayed over the +road in front. Lights were flashing from the toll-house, and the +voices of men rose and fell above the noise of struggling hoofs. The +two officers took their horses by the heads and drove in their spurs. + +"Fenton," said the elder man as they separated a few minutes later, in +the midst of the mob, "whatever we do, let us get Rebecca." + +By the time the yeomanry arrived, the little crowd which had seen Rhys +put out the light had swelled considerably, and people, hearing the +noise, had rushed from neighbouring cottages, catching up pitchforks +or any weapons they could lay hands upon. A brisk fight was in full +swing; Rhys' blood was up, and he had torn off the sun-bonnet and his +voluminous garments and turned his high coat collar up over the lower +part of his face. The false hair, which had been so securely fastened +that it had refused to come off with his headgear, hung low over his +eyes, giving him a wild appearance which fitted his violent gestures +and the tumultuous scene around him. + +When Harry came up and saw him in the thick of the struggle, never for +one moment did he suspect that the rebel before him was the man who +had ridden with him through the mist scarcely a week before. As his +friend's injunction about Rebecca reached him he looked eagerly around +for some likeness to a female figure, but could see no trace of any +such person, Charley Turnbull having, as the fight increased, +ensconced himself safely behind an outhouse, where he stood unseen but +ready to fly at any moment. + +The rioters had been so much taken up with their work, and the turmoil +had been so great, that it was as though a bolt were falling on them +from heaven when they saw the yeomanry coming. Five or six of the +mounted assailants had been forming a protection for those who were +engaged in breaking up the gate with their tools, and among these was +Rhys, with Hosea beside him. As their opponents charged at them and +tried to dislodge them with their pitchforks, he leaned down from the +young mare's back and dealt sounding blows right and left. Blood was +running from a wound in his knee, but he cared nothing for that, for +the rage for fight was in his heart as he laid about him, the mare +plunging now and then and forcing back the press before her. + +Among those who were valiantly protecting the toll was Mary Vaughan's +father, the toll-keeper, a tall white-haired old man, whose great +height and flowing beard made him a central figure in the mob. He had +stood in front of his gate until overpowering numbers had forced him +from his place, and now was charging bravely at Walters and his +followers. Suddenly a cry rose from the defenders, "The soldiers! The +soldiers!" and Rhys saw his men waver for a moment at the sound. "One +more," he shouted to those with the mallets. "Down with the gate!" + +There was now only one post left standing, and the insurgents turned +upon it at his cry for a last blow before they should scatter in front +of the impending yeomanry and take to the country. The toll-keeper, +dropping his pitchfork, threw himself like a game old bull-dog upon +Rhys' foot and tried to drag him from the saddle. Hosea gave a shout +as Rhys turned round. The two men's arms whirled simultaneously in the +air, and two violent blows descended upon Vaughan; as Rhys struck out, +a lump of mud and stone whizzed sharply in his face, and his stick +came down upon the toll-keeper's shoulder. Evans' blow struck him full +on his grey head, and, with a groan, the old man fell, as he had +stood, at the foot of his shattered gate-post. + +Hosea saw what he had done and was seized with terror, but his native +cunning did not desert him; the advantage of Rhys' near presence was +plain. "Oh, Mr. Walters, you have killed him," he cried loudly. + +It was all the work of a moment. Rhys dashed the mud from his eyes and +saw the senseless heap on the ground before him; and behind, two or +three yeomen who were fighting their way towards him. With an oath, he +sprang desperately through the mob and turned the mare's head straight +for the Black Mountain. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A DEAD MAN AND A LIVE COWARD + +WHILE Harry's brother officer was leaning over the dead man on the +ground, Charley Turnbull was in terrible difficulties in an adjacent +field behind the toll-house. As he heard the sound of hoofs he guessed +that the yeomanry was coming up, and he stole, with a trembling heart, +across the grass to where a gap in the hedge promised safe egress on +to the Brecon road. If he could but reach it without being seen, he +would have a good furlong's start. The gates from field to field were +locked, he knew, and, being so, presented insurmountable obstacles to +a man of his temperament. He urged his old black horse along as +silently as he could, trying the while to unfasten the strings of his +bonnet, which, in truth, were almost choking him; but his fingers +shook, and his heart beat so violently that he felt almost as if it +would throw him from his unaccustomed saddle. Turnbull never rode if +he could help it. + +As he reached the gap he left off pulling at his sun-bonnet, for he +needed both hands with which to hold on to the reins. The horse cocked +his ears, blew a long, snorting breath, and seemed anxious to test +with his nose the nature of the difficulty he was asked to meet. +Seeing the little ditch which divided the hedge from the road, he +stuck out his forelegs stiffly in front of him, and snorted yet +louder; he was a large, gross horse, with bunches of hair on his +fetlocks, and his voice tallied with his appearance. Turnbull, in an +agony lest the sound should reach the toll, where things were getting +much quieter, gave him an angry blow. The beast started forward, +pecked, crashed sideways through a stiff bit of wattle on one side of +the gap, and landed by a miracle upon his ample feet in the hardest +part of the road. + +The yeomanry officer, while his men were scattered in pursuit of the +rioters, was still giving instructions to the police over Vaughan's +body, when he heard a breaking of wood, and saw Charley's fat figure +coming almost headlong through the gap. Howlie Seaborne, staring +round-eyed at the scene by the gate, looked up on hearing the sound. +The long trot from the courtyard of the Bull Inn had told somewhat +upon his appearance, which was a little more dishevelled than before. + +"There a' be!" he shouted. "There a' be! That be Walters--'im as is +Rebecca! Did yew 'ear Evans a-croin' out?" + +The officer knew that Harry was in pursuit of the murderer--whoever he +might be--for he had seen him forcing his way after the big man who +had made towards the hill. He had not heard Hosea's cry, but Howlie's +words were enough; there, at any rate, was the very ringleader of the +band, barely half a furlong off. He mounted quickly. + +Charley had just presence of mind enough to pull his horse's head +towards Brecon, to cling with all his strength to the mane till he had +righted himself in the saddle, and to set off at as great a pace as +his underbred beast could muster. All that he could think of was those +clattering hoofs gaining on him from the toll-gate, and his fear of +the animal under him was as nothing to his fear of the man behind. +Where he should make for he neither knew nor cared; flight--blessed +flight--that was all that his scattered senses could picture. Again +and again he struck his horse; use his heels he could not, for the +simple reason that his wide skirt had got entangled in the stirrups as +he came through the gap, and held his legs firmly bound to the +leathers. Half-a-mile had not passed before his pace began to slacken, +and, thrash as he might, he could not get the black horse to keep up +the gallop at which he had started. Besides, he was getting breathless +himself. The rider behind shot alongside, shouting to some one yet in +the rear, and a strong hand jerked the bridle out of his convulsive +grasp. + +"I've got him!" cried the yeomanry captain exultantly to his follower +as they pulled up, "Sergeant, jump off and have him out of the saddle. +It's Walters of Great Masterhouse--I thought he was a better horseman +than that!" + +The sergeant dismounted and seized the prisoner round the waist, but +he clung like a limpet to the horse's neck. Finally, a strong pull +brought him heavily down in the road. Both man and officer burst into +a peal of laughter. + +"Sir, sir," said the stifled voice from the ground, "I swear to +Heaven, sir, I be'ant he. Indeed, indeed, I were just pushed sore +against my will into this night's work." + +"Who is the fellow?" asked the captain, when he had finished laughing. +"The boy said he was Walters." + +The sergeant took out a knife and ripped the bonnet-strings apart; +mask and bonnet fell together. + +"It's Charles Turnbull, sir," he said, grinning widely. "Turnbull the +auctioneer at Waterchurch village." + +"Are you sure it's not Walters?" said the captain, who had never seen +Rhys. + +"No, no, sir, indeed I be'ant," cried the auctioneer, scrambling to +his feet, and stumbling helplessly in the skirt. "Rhys Walters o' +Masterhouse was dressed the same as me, but he's off. Riding for his +neck he is. I never struck a blow, sir, that I didn't, for I were +behind the toll-house, lookin' on, and I says to myself----" + +"That'll do," said the captain shortly. "Now then, sergeant, up with +him again; you can leave his clothes as they are, for the police will +want to see all that. Pick up that thing on the ground." + +The sergeant picked up the sun-bonnet with another grin, and then +hoisted Turnbull into the saddle. + +"You can pull the reins over the horse's head and lead him," said the +officer, "he is not likely to try and escape. He hasn't got courage +enough even for that. And now for the lock-up at Llangarth." + +As the three started to retrace their steps towards the town, the bell +from the church steeple rang out half-past ten; the sound floated out +in their direction, for the chill east wind carried it sharply along +the highway. The captain turned up the collar of his cloak, and wished +that he were at home in his comfortable quarters with the blankets +snugly over him. To trot was out of the question, for the auctioneer, +having no reins to hold on by, and possessing no other means of +securing himself on horseback, would inevitably come to grief, while +he, the officer, was now responsible for his safety until he should +deliver him into other hands at Llangarth. The sergeant hooked +Turnbull's reins over his arm, and blew upon his unoccupied fingers. + +"It's getting mighty cold, sir," he hazarded. + +"We can't get on any faster with this bundle of old clothes to look +after," said the captain crossly; "if you keep your mouth shut, the +cold won't go down your throat." + +His temper was not improved by the prospect of the next couple of +miles at a foot's pace, and the toll was only just coming in sight. +The road between them and it was dull and straight, and seemed +interminable to two of the riders, Turnbull alone having no great +desire to get to the end of the journey. + +A deathly silence surrounded the ruins of the gate as they reached it +at last, and only a couple of figures were moving near the house in +that odd, diffused light which precedes moonrise, and which was +beginning to touch up the eastern sky. To one of these, which proved +on inspection to be Howlie Seaborne, the captain gave his reins as he +dismounted. A light could be seen burning through the diamond-paned +window. He put his foot on the plinth and looked in, but a half-drawn +dimity curtain, and a pot in which a geranium was struggling for life, +prevented his seeing what was passing inside. Stepping down again, he +turned to the door, and, as it was ajar, pushed it softly open and +went in. After one look at the room he removed his busby, and stood +holding it in his hand. + +A low bedstead made of unpolished wood had been drawn into the middle +of the floor. The patchwork quilt which covered it trailed upon the +carpetless flags, and had evidently been brought in a hurry from some +more pretentious bed to spread upon this one. Upon it was the dead +figure of the toll-keeper. He lay there waiting for the arrival of a +magistrate from Llangarth, straight and still, as he would lie waiting +for that other Judge who would one day come to judge his cause. He had +wrought well, and his hands, laid simply by his sides, were still +clenched. A dark bruise on his left temple from which the blood had +oozed made a purple patch on his white, set face. His hair, grey, +though abundant, was stained with blood; a pair of strong boots were +on his feet, and the pipe he had just been smoking when he rushed out +to meet the rioters was still in his pocket. Near him was the stick he +had caught up from its corner by the door as he went, for a constable +had found it by his body on the road and had brought it in. It had +left its mark upon several skins that night. + +Vaughan was a widower, his wife having been dead some years, but one +of those nondescript female relations who rise up to stop gaps in the +lives of the poor was in the house, and, as the yeomanry officer came +in, she was blowing up the flickering fire with a pair of brass-bound +bellows. A constable who had been left to watch the body sat in the +background. + +The captain stood silent, his shadow cast by the spasmodic firelight +almost filling the small room. Everything was so still; the sound of +the bellows jarred on the stillness; the trivial, persistent noise was +like an insult to the presence which was there. He turned sternly to +the woman at the hearth; her elbow rose and fell as she looked at him +over her shoulder, the flames playing on the outline of her face. The +constable in the distance coughed and spat. + +A rush of sharp air came in at the door, and the bellows faltered for +a moment, then went on again with redoubled vigour. The woman nodded +towards the threshold. + +"That be she--his daughter," she explained as she turned again to the +fire. + +The soldier drew reverently back as a girl entered and sprang past +him. She sat down on the flags by the bedside and took the dead man's +hand in her own two hands. Not a tear was in her eyes; she only gasped +like a trapped animal, and the man listening could see how her lips +opened and shut. The sound of the bellows drowned everything. He +strode to the hearth and shook the woman violently by the arm. "For +God's sake, put away that infernal thing," he said. + +She rose from her knees and hung up the bellows in the chimney-corner, +the fire-irons clattering as she searched about among them for the +hook. When he looked round again he saw that the girl had fainted and +was lying face downwards on the floor. + +He turned to the bellows-blower, who, now that her occupation had +ended, was standing idle by the fire; she took but little heed of what +had happened. + +"You had better do something for her," he suggested after a pause. +"Isn't there another room that we could take her to? Poor thing, I can +carry her there." + +"She's a shameless wench," said the woman without moving. + +He went to the bedside and raised Mary in his arms. "Go on," he +ordered, nodding decisively towards the door at the back of the room, +and the woman went sullenly forward, while he followed with his +burden. + +He laid the girl in a large wooden chair which was almost the only +piece of furniture to be seen. Kneeling by her, he rubbed her palms +until her eyelids opened vacantly, and she tried to sit up. As +recollection dawned in her eyes she gave a sob, hiding her face. + +"He's dead, he's dead," she murmured more to herself than to her +companions. + +"Aye, he be dead," responded the elder woman in her uncompromising +voice, "and afore you've had time to bring him to disgrace too." + +"Sir, sir," faltered Mary, turning to the captain, "how was it? +How----?" + +"Rhys Walters did it," interrupted the woman shortly, "he killed him. +Ah--he'll swing for it yet." + +Mary got up like a blind person. Her hands were stretched out before +her, and she walked straight to the wall till her face touched it. She +put up her arms against it, and stood there like an image; only her +two hands beat slowly upon the whitewashed stone. + +"'Twould be well if she had a ring on one o' they hands o' hers," +observed the woman. + +The scene was so painful that the man who was a participator in it +could endure it no longer. Pity for the dead man who lay in the +dignity of a death bravely come by, was swallowed up in pity for the +poor young creature before him. One had faced death, the other had yet +to face life. The two little hands beating against the wall, the hard, +stupid face of the woman, the cheerless room, all were too horrible to +a man of his disposition to be gone through with any longer. He could +do nothing for Mary if he stayed, though he could not help feeling +cowardly at leaving her to face the first moments of her grief with +such a companion. A flutter of icy wind came through a broken pane +near him, and his horse out in the road stamped once or twice; his +mind ran towards the inn at Llangarth, and he thought of the bright, +warm light in the bar. + +"Here," he said, holding out half-a-sovereign to the woman, "and mind +you look after her." + +As he passed through the kitchen where the toll-keeper lay, his eye +fell upon the bellows, and he shuddered. "Poor girl," he said, "poor +wretched girl." + +Howlie Seaborne was one of those rare persons whose silences are as +eloquent as their speech. While the owner of the horse he held was in +the toll-house, he stood placidly by its head, his eyes fixed upon the +prisoner's face; he grinned steadily. The formation of his mouth was +unusual, for, while other people's smiles are horizontal, so to speak, +his, owing to his rabbit-teeth, was almost vertical. + +At last Turnbull looked angrily at him. "'Twas you cried out I was +Rhys Walters," he said with a malignant glance. + +If Howlie heard the words, there was no sign of the fact on his +changeless countenance; his one idea appeared to be to see as much of +the auctioneer as he could. + +"I'll remember this some day," continued Turnbull; "do ye mind the +hiding I gave ye at Crishowell auction last year? Well, ye'll get +another o' the same sort." + +"Oi do," replied Howlie, his words leaving his grin intact; "if oi +hadn't, yew moightn't be a-settin' up there loike a poor zany, an' on +yew're road to the joil." + +Turnbull grew purple. "I'll do for ye yet," he said thickly. + +At this moment the officer came out and got on his horse, throwing a +copper to the boy as he let the bridle go. + +"You're a young fool, for all that," he observed as the coin rang upon +the road; "_that's_ not Walters of Masterhouse." + +"Naw," answered Howlie, his gaze still fixed upon the auctioneer. + +As the three men rode on towards Llangarth his boots could be heard +toiling heavily up Crishowell Lane. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +TO ABERGAVENNY + +THAT the toll-gate raid would end in a murder was the last thing +expected by Rhys. In all the riots which had taken place since the +beginning, nothing worse had happened than broken limbs and bruised +bodies, such having been the luck of Rebecca and her followers that +only a few captures of unimportant hangers-on had been made. Indeed, +it is likely that without Howlie's unseasonable prowlings and +recognition of his adversary Turnbull, and his determination to pay +off old scores, the matter might have had no greater consequences than +the terrifying of society in general and the building up of a new +gate. + +As Rhys took the young mare by the head, and turned out of the crowd, +a man who had been some way from Hosea when he shouted, was so much +demoralized by the cry, that his hand, almost on one of the rioters' +collars, dropped to his side. In a flash there came back to Harry +Fenton the evening he had strayed in the mist round the spurs of the +Black Mountain, and his eyes were opened. This tall, shock-headed +figure which was scattering the people right and left as it made for +Crishowell Lane was the man he had ridden beside and talked to so +frankly in the innocence of his soul. With wrath he remembered how +much he had admired his companion, and how apparent he had allowed his +interest to become. He had returned home full of talk about his new +acquaintance, his good-nature in turning out of his road for a +stranger, his fine seat on horseback, and now it made the boy's face +hot to think how Rhys must have laughed in his sleeve as his victim +had fallen into the trap laid for him. He had been put on the wrong +scent by the very ringleader of the mischief he had come so far to +help in preventing. His wounded vanity ached; he had been tricked, +bested, mocked, deceived. There was only one solace for him, and that +was action, action which would not only be his refuge, but his bounden +duty. He almost jerked the bit out of his horse's mouth as he wrenched +his head round and shot after his enemy, through the crowd and up the +resounding highway on the young mare's heels. + +Rhys' start was not great--about fifty yards--and Harry thought with +satisfaction that he was better mounted than usual. His brother +Llewellyn had lent him his horse, one lately bought, and the best that +either of the young men had ever had. As long as the animal under him +could go, so long would he never lose sight of that devil in front, if +both their necks should break in the attempt. He would give Llewellyn +anything, everything--all he possessed or ever would possess--if he +might only lay hands on the man who had cheated him and whose high +shoulders now blocked his view of the starlit horizon which seemed to +lie just at the end of the open highway. + +Rhys swung into the lane, and, once between the hedges, he drove in +his heels; the road turned a corner a short way ahead, and he wanted +to get round it while he had the lead of Harry. Further on there was a +thin place in the hazels on his left, and he meant to get in on the +grass, though in reality it took him out of his direct route to the +mountain. But the going would be softer, and there was the chance of +entangling his enemy in the geography of the trappy little fields. + +He did not know which of the uniformed figures that had poured down to +the gate was on his track, but he felt an absolute consciousness that +the man behind was as determined to ride as he was himself, and he +suspected who that man might be. As he came to the bend he looked back +to make sure. He could not tell in the uncertain light, but he saw it +was war to the knife; every line of the rider's figure told him that. +He turned the mare short and put her at the bank; that it was not +sound he knew, but the hedge let through a gleam of standing water, +and there was not enough resistance in it to turn her over if she made +a mistake. She scrambled through, loosening clods of earth with her +heels, but the good turf was on the further side, and she got through +with a clatter of stones and wattle. They struck to the right across a +field, and, when they were well out in the middle, Rhys saw that Harry +had landed without losing ground, and he settled himself down to a +steady gallop. As he reflected that his goal was nothing less than +Abergavenny, and thought of the distance lying before him, he knew +that his best plan was to hustle his pursuer while they were in the +valley, and trust to his knowledge of hill tracks and precipices when +they had left the pastures behind. It would not be a question of pace +up there. All the same, fifteen long miles were in front of him, and +behind him--manslaughter. + +Directly in his way some hundred yards ahead a wide dark patch +stretched across the meadow. He knew it to be a piece of boggy ground +deep enough to embarrass a horseman, and too well fed by a spring +below to freeze, but he also knew the precise spot at which it could +be crossed without difficulty. The recent wet weather had made it +bigger than usual, and he headed for it, hoping that Fenton would +choose a bad bit, and at least take something out of his horse in the +heavy clay. In he went, knowing that where there were rushes there was +foothold, and keeping his eye on a battered willow-stump which stood +like a lighthouse at the further border of the little swamp. A snipe +rose from under his feet, a flash of dark lightning whirling in the +greyness of the atmosphere. He was through and making steadily for the +line of hedge before him. + +But Harry had not hunted for nothing; ever since his earliest boyhood +he had followed hounds on whatever he could get to carry him, and long +years of riding inferior beasts had taught him many things. He had +never possessed a really perfect hunter in his life, and he was +accustomed to saving his animals by every possible means; mad with +excitement as he was, he instinctively noticed the odd bit of ground, +and pulled straight into the mare's tracks. Walters, looking back from +an open gate through which he was racing, ground his teeth as he saw +how well he had steered his enemy. + +Soon the ground began to slope away, and Rhys knew that they were +getting near the brook running only a few fields from the road. Just +beyond it was Crishowell village, and the land would ascend sharply as +soon as they had left the last cottage behind. + +The Digedi brook was as unlike the flag-bordered trout-stream of the +midlands as one piece of water can be to another, for it rose far up +in the Black Mountain near the pass by which Walters hoped to reach +Abergavenny, and, after a rapid descent to the valley, passed the +village, circling wantonly through the pastures to cross Crishowell +Lane under a bridge. There was hardly a yard in its career at which +its loud voice was not audible, for the bed was solid rock, and the +little falls, scarce a foot high, by which it descended to the lower +levels, called ceaselessly among the stones. The water-ousel nested +there in spring, and wagtails curtseyed fantastically by the brink. In +summer it was all babble, light, motion, and waving leaves. As the +young man came down the grass, he saw the line of bare bushes which +fringed it, and heard the pigmy roar of one of the falls. Flat slabs +of rock hemmed it in, jutting into the water and enclosing the dark +pool into which it emptied itself. On an ordinary occasion he would +have picked his way through the slippery bits and let his horse +arrange the crossing as his instinct suggested, but he had no time for +that now. He took the mare by the head, and came down the slope as +hard as he could towards a place just above the fall. He saw the white +horseshoe foaming under him as they cleared it and the boulders on the +edge, and he smiled grimly as he pictured Fenton's horse possibly +stumbling about among the rocks. He made straight for the highway, the +mare's blood was up, and she took the big intervening hedges like a +deer. + +They were now on the road, and he pulled up for a moment to listen for +any sign of his pursuer, but there was no other sound than the barking +of a dog in Crishowell. The slippery boulders had probably delayed +Harry. He cantered on steadily past the village with its few lighted +windows; as the barking had raised a reply from every dog's throat in +the place, no one heard him till he had passed the last outlying +house, and he made for the steep lane leading up to where he had +parted with Fenton on the night of their first meeting. + +It was highly unlikely that he would come across any one at that time +of night, for the Crishowell people went early to rest, like all +agricultural characters, and the news of Rebecca's attack on the toll +could hardly have reached them yet. Now that he had time to think a +little, he began to realize the full horror of the thing that had +happened. He had killed a man; worse, he had killed Mary's father; +worse still, it was known that he had done so. Curse Hosea! curse him! +Why had he been such a madman as to shout out his name? No one need +have identified him but for the innkeeper's crass folly. What he was +going to do he knew not, beyond that he must make for Abergavenny, +where he might possibly lie hidden for a time till he could devise +some means of leaving the country. Poor little Mary too, his heart +smote him as he thought of her; in one hour she had been robbed of her +father, and was losing her lover--losing him as every beat of the +mare's hoofs carried him further away towards the great lone mountain +that he had to cross that night somehow. He hoped the wet places up +there would not have frozen over before he got through the pass, for +it was hard underfoot already and the puddles crackled faintly as he +rode over them. Every moment it was getting lighter, and he could see +a piece of the moon's face above the high banks of the lane. He put +his hand down on the mare's shoulder; she was sweating a good deal, +though they had only come a couple of miles at most, but she was raw +and excitable, and had pulled him considerably since they had come +over the brook, taking more out of herself than she need have done. +She had good blood in her--thank Heaven for that--and she would want +it all. He had paid a long price for her, and, if ever money were well +spent, it was then; the young fool behind him was not likely to get +much out of his ride. He pulled up once again, just to make sure that +Harry was nowhere near, standing in the shadow with his hand over his +ear and the mare quivering with excitement under him. Yes, sure +enough, there were galloping hoofs distinct on the stillness of the +sharp night some way below. Fenton was in the lane. + +On they went, sparks flying from the flints as the shoes smote hard +upon them. The air grew more chilly as they got higher up and the road +more slippery; Rhys leaned forward, encouraging the mare as she +laboured valiantly up the heart-breaking slope. The banks flew by, +gates, stiles; soon they were passing the ruined cottage that stood +not a hundred yards from the egress to the mountain; he could see the +bare boughs of the apple-trees that tapped against the battered +window-panes. + +Suddenly the mare lurched, scraping the earth with her feet, and the +moon seemed to sway in the sky and to be coming down to meet the +hedge. A crash, and she was lying on her off side with Rhys' leg +pinned underneath her. A mark like a slide on the blue, shining ground +showed how the frost was taking firm grip of the world. + +She struggled up again before he had time to find out whether he was +hurt or not, and stood over him, shivering with fright. Fortunately +she had hardly touched him in her efforts to rise, as his foot had +come out of the stirrup, and he was able to pick himself up in a few +seconds with a strong feeling of dizziness and an aching pain in his +shoulder. His first idea was to remount as quickly as possible, but, +when he put his foot in the iron, he almost fell back again on the +road. Something hot was running down his face, first in slow drops, +then faster; he could not raise his right shoulder at all, and his arm +felt weary and numb. A gust of wind brought the sound of Harry's +galloping fitfully up the lane, making the mare turn half round to +listen, her nostrils dilated; she seemed quite uninjured. Rhys seized +the stick he had dropped as they fell, and, with it in his available +hand, struck her two violent blows on her quarter. She plunged forward +like a mad creature, and set forth for her stable at Great +Masterhouse. + +As she disappeared he dragged himself with great difficulty through +the hedge on his right. Before him the fields fell away +perpendicularly to the valley, and the moon was white on the grass +that lay like a frosty, vapoury sheet round him. He saw a deep ditch +running downward with the land, and had just sense and strength enough +left to stagger towards it, a black, positive silhouette on the +moon-struck unreality of the surrounding world. + +As he rolled into it he lost consciousness, and so did not hear Harry +Fenton a minute later as he tore past. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MASTER AND MAN + +A MAN was sitting on the low wall which enclosed the spectre of a +garden trimming a ragged ash-plant into the plain dimensions of a +walking-stick. He worked with the neatness displayed by many +heavy-handed persons whose squarely-tipped fingers never hint at the +dexterity dormant in them. + +It was easily seen that, in order to assign him a place in the social +scale, one would have to go a good way down it; nevertheless, he +reflected the facial type of his time as faithfully as any young blood +enveloped in the latest whimsies of fashionable convention, though, +naturally, in a less degree. The man of to-day who looks at a +collection of drawings made in the early nineteenth century can find +the face, with various modifications, everywhere; under the +chimney-pot hat which (to his eye) sits so oddly on the cricketer, +beneath the peaked cap of the mail-coach guard, above the +shirt-sleeves of the artisan with his basket of tools on his back. As +we examine the portraits of a by-gone master, Sir Peter Lely, Joshua +Reynolds--whom you will--we are apt to ask ourselves whether the +painter's hand has not conveyed too much of his own mind to the +canvas, making all sitters so conform to it as to reproduce some +mental trait of his own, like children of one father reproducing a +physical one. Those who find this may forget that there is an +expression proper to each period, and that it runs through the gamut +of society, from the court beauty to the kitchen wench, from the +minister of State to the rat-catcher who keeps the great man's +property purged of such vermin. The comprehensive glance of the man on +the wall as compared with the immobility of his mouth, the wide face +set in flat whiskers which stopped short in a line with the lobe of +his ear, dated him as completely as if he had been a waxwork effigy +set up in a museum with "Early Victorian Period" printed on a placard +at his feet. His name was George Williams, and, in the eye of the law, +he was a hedger and ditcher by occupation; on its blind side, he was +something else as well. + +The garden, which formed a background to the stick-maker, was indeed a +sorry place, forming, with the tumble-down cottage it surrounded, a +sort of island in the barren hillside. A shallow stream on its way to +the valley ran by so near the wall, that there was only room for a few +clumps of thistle between it and the water. When the dweller in the +cottage wished to reach civilization, he had to cross a plank to a +disused cart-track making from the uplands down to the village. Hardly +any one but the tenant of this unprofitable estate ever troubled the +ancient way with his presence, but, in spite of this, Williams looked +up expectantly now and then to where it cut the skyline a furlong or +so mountainwards. Behind him the tall weeds which were choking the +potato patch and the gooseberry bushes straggled in the grey forenoon +light, and the hoar-frost clung to a few briars that stretched lean +arms over the bed of the stream. + +The cottage was built of stone and boasted a slate roof, though, what +between the gaps showing in it and the stonecrop which covered the +solid parts, there was little slate visible. One could assume that the +walls were thick from the extreme breadth of the window-sills, and the +remote way in which the pane stared out like an eye sunk deep in its +socket. The window on the left of the door was boarded up by a shutter +which had once been green, the other one being nearly as impenetrable +by reason of its distance from the surface. Were any one curious +enough to examine the latter, he might see that it was surprisingly +clean; the place was wild, inhospitable, weed-sown, but not dirty. A +faint column of smoke escaped from one of the squat chimneys which +adorned either end of the roof. + +The ash-plant which Williams was trimming had two strong suckers +sticking out of the root. When it was held upside down, the position +in which it would eventually be carried, Nature's intention of making +it the distinct image of a rabbit's head was clear to the meanest +imagination. George's imagination was not altogether mean, and he +whittled away diligently, smiling as the thing grew more life-like in +his hands, and so much absorbed that he gradually forgot to watch the +track and did not see a small figure coming down it till it was within +a few yards of him. + +The person arriving on the scene had such a remarkable gait that one +might have singled him out from fifty men, had he been advancing in a +line of his fellow-creatures instead of alone. As he came closer, it +grew odder because the expression of his face could be seen to +counteract the expression of his legs. The latter proclaimed +indecision, while the former shone with a cheerful firmness; looking +at him, one was prepared to see the legs fold inward like an easel, or +widen out like a compass, plunge sideways up the bank, or dive +forwards down the road. For this, as for all other phenomena in this +world, there was a reason. The man had driven pigs for nearly fifty +years of his life. + +The healthy red of his cheeks was an advertisement for this +disquieting trade, and his twinkling eyes and slit of a mouth turned +up at the corners as if they had caught something of their appearance +from the pigs themselves. Prosperity cried from every part of James +Bumpett, from the seams of his corduroy trousers to the crown of his +semi-tall hat. He carried a stick, but he did not use it to walk with, +for long habit had made him wave it smartly from side to side. + +Williams transferred his legs deferentially from the inside to the +outside of the wall as the old man approached, and stood waiting for +him to come up. + +The Pig-driver seated himself beside him and plunged immediately into +his subject. + +"Is it aught with the business?" he asked. "I come down at once when I +got your message." + +"No," replied the younger man, "it's this way. It's about Mr. Walters +o' Masterhouse. He's there below--an' his head nigh broke." He pointed +backwards to the cottage with his thumb. + +"Lord! Lord!" ejaculated Bumpett. + +"He told me to send word to you. 'Bumpett,' he says, 'Mr. Bumpett at +Abergavenny; don't you forget,' an' he went off with his head agin my +shoulder. How I got him along here I don't rightly know. He's a +fair-sized man to be hefting about." + +The old man looked keenly into George's face. + +"What did he want with me?" he inquired. + +"Indeed I never thought for to ask him," said Williams simply. "'Twas +two nights ago, I was going up by Red Field Farm to look round a +bit"--here both men's eyes dropped--"and about one o'clock I was nigh +them steep bits o' grazing, an' come straight on to him. Lying down in +the ditch he was, not twenty yards from Crishowell Lane. I didn't know +what to make of it." + +"Well, to be sure!" exclaimed Bumpett. "Was it drink?" he asked after +a pause. + +"Drink? no!" cried George. "I took a piece of ice from the road and +put it on his head. He come to then. I never saw such a look as he +give me when he saw me, and he fought like a wild beast, that he did, +when he felt my hand on him, though he was as weak as a rabbit when I +got him up. 'Tis plain enough now why, though indeed I did wonder +then. He's done for Vaughan the toll-keeper, too; knocked him stone +dead." + +Bumpett stared blankly. For once in his life he was quite taken aback. + +"He was out wi' Rebecca," explained Williams. "I guessed that by the +strange hair he had tied all over his head so firm it were hard to get +it loose." + +"What did you do with it?" inquired the Pig-driver sharply. + +"Brought it with me," said the young man. "Was I to leave it for some +o' they constables to find?" + +"Well, indeed," observed Bumpett, "you're a smarter lad than I took ye +for. I don't mind telling ye that I thought to see him along o' me in +Abergavenny by now." + +"You've had to tell me a thing or two before this," said George rather +sullenly. + +"Ye've told no one?" inquired Bumpett suspiciously. + +"Not I," said George. "What's the use of pulling a man out of the +law's way if you're to shove him back after? I thought once I'd have +to get the doctor, he was that bad, ranting and raving, but he's +stopped now." + +"I suppose I'd better go down and see him," said the Pig-driver, +rubbing the back of his head meditatively with his hand. "What are we +to do with him, Williams?" + +"I can't turn him out," answered the young man, "I don't like to do +that." + +"By G'arge, he couldn't have got into no safer place too," chuckled +Bumpett. "We'll keep him a bit, my lad, an' he might lend a hand when +he gets better. He'll have to know what sort of a nest he's lighted +on, sooner or later, if he stops here." + +Williams gave a kind of growl. + +"When the country's quieted down a bit we'll have to get him off out +o' this. Straight he'll have to go too, and not be talkin' o' what +he's seen. Did they take any of the others, did ye hear?" + +"They got Turnbull the auctioneer, and about a dozen men from +Llangarth; them on the horses were that rigged up wi' mountebank +clothes you couldn't tell who was who--so I heard tell in Crishowell. +And they were off over the Wye, an' into the woods like so many +quists. The yeomanry tried the wrong places in the water, and some of +them was pretty nigh drowned. There was no talk of chasing--they'd +enough to do pulling one another out." + +"Well, well, to be sure!" exclaimed the Pig-driver again with infinite +relish, his cheeks widening into a grin as he listened, and his eyes +almost disappearing into his head. Then he sighed the sigh of a man +who broods upon lost opportunities. + +George whirled his legs back into the garden in the same way that he +had whirled them out, and steered through the gooseberry bushes +towards the cottage followed by his companion. Entering they found +themselves in a small room, dark and bare. + +Although smoke might be seen to issue from the chimney at this side of +the house, it was curious that not a vestige of fire was in the +fire-place. A table stood under the window, a few garments hung on a +string that stretched across a corner, and two bill-hooks, very sharp +and bright, leaned sentimentally towards each other where they stood +against the wall. A piece of soap, a bucket of water, and a comb were +arranged upon a box; at the end of the room were a cupboard, and a +wooden bedstead containing neither bedclothes nor mattress. Besides +these objects, there was nothing in the way of furniture or adornment. + +Bumpett glanced round and his eye reached the bedstead. + +"Name o' goodness, what have ye done with your bedding?" he inquired, +pausing before the naked-looking object. + +"It's down below." + +A partition divided the cottage into two, and George opened a door in +this by which they entered the other half of the building. Chinks in +the closed-up window let in light enough to show a few tools and a +heap of sacks lying in a corner. These were fastened down on a board +which they completely concealed. The Pig-driver drew it aside, +disclosing a hole large enough to admit a human figure, with the top +of a ladder visible in it about a foot below the flooring. The young +man stood aside for Bumpett to descend, and when the crown of the +Pig-driver's hat had disappeared, he followed, drawing the board +carefully over the aperture. + +The room below ran all the length of the house, and a fire at the +further end accounted for the smoke in the chimney. Fresh air came in +at a hole in the wall, which was hidden outside by a gooseberry bush +planted before it; occasional slabs of stone showed where the place +had been hollowed from the original rock, and the ceiling was studded +with iron hooks. Near the fire was a great heap of sheepskins, +surmounted by George's mattress and all his scanty bedding, on which +lay Rhys Walters, his head bound round by a bandage, and a cup of +water beside him which he was stretching out his hand for as they +entered. + +"Here's Mr. Bumpett," announced Williams, going gently up to the bed. + +"Well," said Rhys in a weak, petulant voice, "this is a bad look-out, +isn't it?" + +"Indeed, and so it is," answered the old man, as if he had been struck +by a new idea. + +"And I don't know when I can get up out of here." + +"Bide you where you are," interrupted the Pig-driver. "You couldn't be +safer, not if you was in Hereford jail itself," he concluded +cheerfully, sitting down on the bed. + +Rhys frowned under his bandage. + +"That's where I may be yet," he said, "curse the whole business." + +"I'd been lookin' out for ye at Abergavenny," said Bumpett, "an' not +seein' ye, I thought all had been well, and ye'd gone off licketty +smack to Evans's." + +"If I could get hold of Evans, I'd half kill him," said Rhys between +his teeth. "He cried out my name, and I had to ride for it, I can tell +you. Give me a drop more water, Williams." + +George went to the opposite wall and drew out a stone, letting in the +pleasant babbling noise of the brook. The foundations of the cottage +were so near the water that he stretched his arm through, holding the +mug, and filled it easily. In flood-time the room was uninhabitable. + +"I thought there was nothing that could touch that mare of mine," +continued the sick man, as George went up the ladder and left the two +together, "but young Fenton's mind was made up to catch me, though I'd +have distanced him if this damned frost hadn't been against me. I +could have dodged him in the mountain and got him bogged, maybe." + +"Well, well, you're lucky to be where you are," remarked Bumpett. +"There's no one but Williams and me do know of this place. Best bide a +bit, and when they give up searchin' for ye, ye can get down to +Cardiff somehow." + +Rhys made no reply; his thoughts went to Great Masterhouse, to its +fields, to the barns round which he had played as a child, to its +well-stocked stable, to the money it was worth, and he groaned. He was +a beggar practically, an outlaw, and the life behind him was wiped +out. Many things rose in his mind in a cloud of regret, many interests +but few affections; nevertheless, now that she was absolutely lost to +him, he longed for Mary. + +For some time neither of the two men spoke. + +"'Tis a bad job indeed," broke in Bumpett as he got up to leave. He +was a man of his tongue and the silence irked him. + +"Where are you going to now?" said Rhys listlessly. + +"Down Crishowell way," answered the Pig-driver. "I've got business +there. Mr. Walters, I've got a word to say to you afore I go. Do you +know that this place you're in belongs to me?" + +"To you?" said Rhys; "I thought Williams rented it from Red Field +Farm." + +"Ah, 'tis called Williams'," replied Bumpett, sitting down again, "but +I do pay for it. I may make free with you in what I'm saying, for I'm +helping to keep you from the law, and it's right you should help to +keep me. Give me the oath you'll swaller down what I'm telling you and +never let it up again." + +"What can I do to you, even if I want to?" asked Rhys bitterly. + +"Swear, I tell ye." + +"I swear it, so help me God," repeated Rhys, his curiosity roused. + +"Though I began drivin' o' pigs, I'm the biggest butcher in trade at +Abergavenny, am I not?" cried the old man, putting his hand on Rhys' +knee and giving it a shake. "Well, I sell more mutton than I ever buy. +Do ye understand that? Do ye see what you're lyin' on?" He pointed to +the sheepskins. "George is my man and he finds it for me--him an' +others I needn't speak of. We've taken toll of you before this." + +And, as he chuckled, his eyes disappeared again. + +Walters tried to sit up, but grew giddy at once and dropped back on +his pillow. He drew a long breath and lay still. The last words made +him hate the Pig-driver, but as, at present, he owed him everything, +he reflected that hatred would be of little use to him. + +"How do you get it all up to Abergavenny?" he inquired at last. + +"Ah, you may well ask. And 'tis best you should know, for I'll be glad +to get a hand from you when you're up again. Do ye know the Pedlar's +Stone? There's not one o' they zanys along here will go a-nigh it." + +Rhys knew the place well. On the way to the mountain, about a mile +further up, a little rough, stone cross stuck out of the bank, its +rude arms overhanging the hedge. It marked the spot where a pedlar had +been murdered some hundred years back, and none of the working people +would pass it after dark, for even in the daytime it was regarded with +suspicion. + +"The sheep comes here first, George he knows how. Do ye see them hooks +in the ceiling? Did ye take note of the trap ye come down here by? No, +I warrant ye didn't, ye was that mazed when ye come. It's all cut up +here, an' after that it goes up jint by jint to the place I'm telling +you. Williams, he can get two sheep up between ten o'clock and one i' +the morning. If ye go along the hedge behind the stone, there's a big +bit o' rock close by with a hole scraped in underneath it. It's deep +down among the nettles, so ye wouldn't see it if ye didn't know. +That's where they lie till I come round afore daylight wi' the cart on +my way to Crishowell. Crishowell folks thinks I'm at Abergavenny, and +Abergavenny folks thinks I'm at Crishowell." + +Though in his heart Rhys hated the Pig-driver for what he had been +doing to him and others like him, he could not help admiring his +astuteness; but he made no comment, for admiration came from him +grudgingly as a rule where men were concerned. + +"Now," said the old man, "I'll say good-day to ye, Mr. Walters, I must +be gettin' on." + +He clambered up the ladder, leaving Rhys alone. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +TWO MEETINGS + +GEORGE and the Pig-driver left the cottage together a few minutes +afterwards. Both men had business in Crishowell, and as Rhys Walters +was now well enough to be left alone for a few hours, Williams had no +scruple in turning the key on his charge and starting with his patron +for the valley. + +The hoar-frost hung on everything. Around them, the heavy air +enwrapped the landscape, making an opaque background to the branches +and twigs which stood as though cut out in white coral against +grey-painted canvas. Bumpett felt the cold a good deal and pressed +forward almost at a trot, looking all the more grotesque for the +company of the big, quiet man beside him. Some way out of the village +they parted, being unwilling to be seen much together. + +When he went to see George, Bumpett generally got out of his cart as +soon as he had crossed the mountain pass, sending it round by a good +road which circled out towards Llangarth, and telling his boy to bring +it by that route to Crishowell; he thus avoided trying its springs in +the steep lanes, and was unobserved himself as he went down by +Williams' house to the village. At the carpenter's shop, where it went +to await him, he would pass an agreeable half-hour chatting with the +local spirits who congregated there of an afternoon. + +He was the most completely popular man in the neighbourhood. For this +he was much indebted to the habits of his pig-driving days, when he +and his unruly flock had travelled the country on foot to the +different fairs. Then many a labourer's wife had lightened his +journeys by the pleasant offer of a bite and a sup, and held herself +amply rewarded by the odd bits of gossip and complimentary turns of +speech by which the wayfarer knew how to make himself welcome. Now +that he had become a man of money and standing, this graciousness of +demeanour had not left him; nay, it was rather set off by the flavour +of opulence, and gave meaner folk the comfortable assurance of being +hob and nob with the great ones of this world. Nevertheless, the name +of "The Pig-driver" stuck to him; as the Pig-driver they had known him +first, and the Pig-driver he would remain, were he to be made Mayor of +Abergavenny. + +Rounding a corner, the old man came upon an elderly, hard-featured +woman who stood to rest and lean a basket which she carried against +the bank. + +"Oh! Mr. Bumpett," she exclaimed as he approached, "oh! Mr. Bumpett." + +"Come you here, woman," he said in a mysterious voice, taking her by +the elbow, "come down to the brookside till I speak a word wi' you." + +"Oh! Mr. Bumpett," she went on, "so ye've heard, have ye?" + +"Sh----sh!" cried the Pig-driver, hurrying her along, "keep you quiet, +I tell you, till we be away from the lane." + +The Digedi brook ran along the hollow near, and at a sheltered place +by the brink he stopped. Both he and his companion were out of breath. +The woman sat down upon a rock, her hard face working. + +"Indeed, I be miserable upon the face of the earth," she cried, "an I +can't think o' nothing but Master Rhys from the time I get out o' my +bed until the time I do get in again, and long after that too. An' +there's Mrs. Walters a-settin' same as if he were there and sayin' to +me, 'Never speak his name, Nannie, I have no son. Dead he have been to +the Lord these many years, and now, dead he is to me. His brother's +blood crieth to him from the ground.' I can't abide they prayers o' +hers." + +"Will ye listen to me?" said Bumpett sharply. He gave as much notice +to her lamentations as he did to the babble of the brook. + +"Ah, she's a hard one, for all her psalms and praises! Never a tear do +I see on her face, and there's me be like to break my heart when I so +much as go nigh the tollet in the yard and see the young turkey-cock +going by. Law! I do think o' the smacks poor Master Rhys did fetch his +grandfather, when he were a little bit of a boy, an' how the old bird +would run before him, same as if the black man o' Hell was after him!" + +She covered her face with her shawl. The Pig-driver was exasperated. + +"Will ye hold yer tongue?" he said, thumping his stick on the ground, +"or I won't tell ye one blazin' word of what I was to say. Here am I +strivin' to tell ye what ye don't know about Mister Walters, an' I +can't get my mind out along o' you, ye old fool! Do ye hear me, Nannie +Davis?" + +At the sound of Rhys' name she looked up. + +"If I tell ye something about him, will you give over?" asked the +Pig-driver, shaking her by the shoulder. + +"Yes, surely, Mr. Bumpett," said Nannie, "I will. I be but a fool, an' +that I do know." + +"He's safe," said Bumpett. "Do ye hear? He's safe. An' I know where he +is." + +"And where is he?" + +"Ah! that's telling. don't you ask, my woman, an' it'll be the better +for him." + +Nannie had quite regained her composure, and an unspeakable load +rolled off her mind at her companion's words. Ever since the morning +when the mare had been found riderless, sniffing at the door of her +box at Masterhouse, and the news of the toll-keeper's death and Rhys' +flight had reached the mountain, waking and sleeping she had pictured +his arrest. + +"So long as he bides quiet where he is, there's none can get a sight +o' him," said the old man, "and when we do see our way to get him off +an' over the water--to Ameriky, maybe--I and them I knows will do our +best. But he's been knocked about cruel, for, mind ye, they was +fightin' very wicked an' nasty, down by the toll." + +"Is he bad?" asked Nannie anxiously. + +"He was," replied Bumpett, "but he's mending." + +"And be I never to know where he be?" + +"You mind what I tell ye. But, if ye want to do the man a good turn, +ye may. Do ye know the Pedlar's Stone?" + +Nannie shuddered. "There's every one knows that. But I durstn't go +nigh it, not I. Indeed, 'tis no good place! Saunders of Llan-y-bulch +was sayin' only last week----" + +The Pig-driver cast a look of measureless scorn upon her. + +"Well, ye needn't go nigh it," he interrupted. "Ye can bide twenty +yards on the other side." + +"Lawk! I wouldn't go where I could see it!" + +"Ye must just turn your back, then," said Bumpett crossly. + +"But what be I to do?" inquired Nannie, who stood in considerable awe +of the Pig-driver. + +"Ye might get a few of his clothes an' such like, or anything ye fancy +would come handy to him. Bring them down to the stone when it's dark, +an' I, or a man I'll send, will be there to get them from ye. Day +after to-morrow 'll do." + +"I won't be so skeered if there's some I do know to be by," said she +reflectively. + +"Can ye get they things without Mrs. Walters seein' ye?" inquired he. +"It would never do for her to be stickin' her holy nose into it." + +Nannie laughed out. Her laugh was remarkable; it had a ring of +ribaldry unsuited to her plain bonnet and knitted shawl. + +"No fear o' that. Mrs. Walters says to me, no more nor this mornin', +'Take you the keys, Nannie,' she says, 'an' put away all them clothes +o' his. Let me forget I bore a child that's to be a disgrace to my old +age.' 'Tis an ill wind that blows nobody good, ye see. But I must be +gettin' home now, Mr. Bumpett." + +So they parted. + +As George entered Crishowell by another way, and got over the last +stile dividing the fields from the village, the church bell began to +sound. The first stroke was finishing its vibration as he laid his +hand on the top rail, but he had gone a full furlong before he heard +the next. They were evidently tolling. A woman came out of her door +and listened to the bell. + +"Who's to be buried?" inquired Williams, as he passed. + +"'Tis Vaughan the gate-keeper," she answered, "him as was killed +Tuesday." + +The young man proceeded until the road turned and brought him right in +front of the lych-gate of the church; it was open, and the Vicar of +Crishowell stood bareheaded among the graves. He went on by a path +skirting the wall, and slipped into the churchyard by another +entrance. A large yew-tree stood close to it, and under this he took +up his stand unperceived; the bell kept on sounding. + +Crishowell church was a plain building, which possessed no +characteristic but that of solidity; bits had fallen out of it, and +been rebuilt at various epochs of its history, without creating much +incongruity or adding much glory to its appearance. The nave roof had +settled a little, and the walls were irregular in places, but over the +whole sat that somnolent dignity which clings to ancient stone. The +chancel windows were Norman, and very small; indeed, so near the +ground were they, that boys, sitting in the chancel pews, had often +been provoked to unseemly jests during service by the sight of +unchurch-going school-mates crowding to make grimaces at them from +outside. The porch was high, and surmounted by the belfry, and some +old wooden benches ran round its walls to accommodate the ringers. As +the sexton, who performed many other functions besides those of his +office, had just returned from the fields, Howlie Seaborne, his son, +had taken his place and was tolling till his father should have +changed his coat. He looked like a gnome as he stood in the shadow of +the porch with the rope in his hand. The sound of many feet was heard +coming up the lane, and Williams took off his hat. + +The procession came in sight, black in front of the white hedges and +trees, moving slowly towards the lych-gate. First went the coffin, +carried under its dark pall, and heading a line of figures which +trailed behind it like some interminable insect. From miles round +people had come; Squire Fenton and Harry from Waterchurch, the +yeomanry officer who had been present at the riot, men from Llangarth, +gentlemen from distant parts of the country, all anxious to pay the +only respect they could to the undaunted old man whose duty had really +meant something to him. Immediately behind the dead walked a girl +muffled up in a black cloak. They were at the lych-gate. The bell +stopped. + +"I am the Resurrection and the Life: he that believeth in me, though +he were dead, yet shall he live." + +The words reached Williams where he stood under the yew-tree, and +something swelled up in his heart; abstract things struck him all at +once as real. Life was real--death very real--to die fighting like +Vaughan had died was real--certainly more real than stealing sheep. He +stood thinking, hardly definitely, but in that semi-consciousness of +thought which comes at times to most people, and from which they awake +knowing a little more than they knew before. Whether they make their +knowledge of use to them is another matter. + +The Burial Service ran on to the end, and the people dispersed in twos +and threes. Some gentlemen, whose horses were waiting at the smith's +shop close by, mounted and rode away after a few civil words with the +Vicar; the labourers and their wives vanished quickly, the former +hurrying off to their interrupted work, and the latter clustering and +whispering among themselves. Soon the churchyard was empty, and +nothing was left to show what had taken place but the gaping grave and +the planks lying round it. + +George remained a few minutes at his post under the tree before +emerging and going out by the same gate as the mourners, but, when he +did so, he saw that the girl had returned again and was sitting by the +mound of upturned earth. His impulse was to go back, respecting her +solitude, but Mary had heard his step and looked round at him. Their +eyes met. He had never seen the toll-keeper's daughter before, and her +beauty and the despair written on her face touched him deeply in the +stirred-up state of his mind. Remembering that he must shortly go back +to Rhys, the man by whose fault he believed her to be sitting where +she was, and share his roof with him for days to come, his soul +recoiled. And yet, the truth was worse than he knew. + + + +CHAPTER X + +FORGET-ME-NOTS + +HEREFORD town is one of those slumbrous cities, guiltless of any bait +with which to lure the sight-seer, but possessing both a cathedral and +an individuality of its own. It is a town which seems to have acquired +no suburbs, to have grown up in its proper area out of the flat fields +which lie around. But on the night of which I am speaking an unwonted +stir was going on, a rumbling of vehicles through streets usually +silent, and a great noise of voices and hoofs in the different inn +yards. The Green Dragon, that stronghold of county respectability, was +crowded from garret to basement, as the lights in every window +proclaimed. Inside, chambermaids ran up and down-stairs, men-servants +shouted orders from landings, and prim ladies-maids went in and out of +bedrooms with the guarded demeanour of those who know, but may not +reveal, the mysteries which these contain. The eyes of citizens were +constantly gratified by the sight of chariots driven by massive +coachmen whose weight seemed likely to break down their vehicles in +front if unbalanced by rumbles behind. Into these last the smaller +youth of the town deemed it a pride and a pleasure to ascend, when +they could do so unnoticed, and to taste all the joys of so exalted a +state until the vulgar "Whip behind" of some envious friend made the +position untenable. + +The cause of this uncommon activity in both town and urchins was that +the officers of the Hereford Yeomanry were giving a ball, and from the +remotest parts of the county people were flocking to it. The landlords +thought well of such events, for innkeeping, like hop-growing, is a +trade in which the speculator may compensate himself by one good +harvest for several lean years. + +From the assembly rooms a flood of light streamed over the pavement, +and across it moved the uniformed figures of the hosts, resplendent in +blue and silver, and congregating near the door--some to watch with +solemn looks for consignments of their own relations, some, with +lighter aspect, for those of other people. + +The ball had not actually begun, but in Herefordshire, where such +festivities were few, people liked to get as much of them as possible, +and carriages were already arriving to disgorge be-feathered old +ladies and be-wreathed young ones at the foot of the red-carpeted +steps. The band began to tune up, and a general feeling of expectation +pervaded the building. Harry Fenton was talking to his brother +Llewellyn, who had been dining with him, and who was, with apparent +difficulty, drawing on a pair of white kid gloves. More carriages +rolled up, the doorway was getting crowded, the bandmaster raised his +_bâton;_ then the band slid into a mazurka--much in vogue at the +time--and the colonel offered his arm to the county member's wife. The +floor filled rapidly. + +Llewellyn Fenton was Harry's youngest brother and the dearest friend +he had in the world. Though he was only twenty-one, and consequently +four years Harry's junior, there had never been much real difference +between the two, the elder being younger than his age, and the younger +considerably older. Since their early boyhood they had held together, +Harry clinging rather to the harder nature of Llewellyn, and now that +they had grown up and gone their different ways, they took every +chance of meeting they could get. The Squire on the other side of the +ball-room caught sight of them standing together, and smiled as he saw +them exchange nods and go off to their respective partners; he liked +all his four boys, but Harry and Llewellyn were the pair which +appealed to him most. + +The evening went on cheerfully, and dance succeeded dance. The +brothers had run up against each other again, and were watching a +quadrille from the door of the supper-room. + +"Llewellyn," said Harry, taking hold of his arm, "who is that girl? +There, look. Dancing with Tom Bradford." + +"I don't know," said his brother. "Let go, Harry." + +"Good heavens! isn't she pretty?" he went on, unheeding, and gripping +Llewellyn. + +"Well, yes," said the other, disengaging himself. "She is, there's no +denying that." + +"Do you want to deny it?" asked Harry, with a contemptuous snort. + +"N--no, I don't." + +The girl in question was dancing in a set immediately in front of +them. She was a little over the middle height, though in these modern +days of tall women she would probably pass unnoticed on that score. +She seemed quite young, barely out of her teens, but her +self-possession was as complete as that quality can be when it is +mixed with self-consciousness--not the highest sort of +self-possession, but always something. One could not blame her for +being alive to her own good looks, they were so intensely obvious, and +her complexion, which struck one at once, was of that rose-and-white +sort which reminds the spectator of fruit--soft, and with a bloom on +it like the down of a butterfly's wing. + +Seeing only the face one would guess it to be accompanied by rich +golden hair, but this girl's was of that shade which can only be +described as mouse-coloured, and it grew light and fluffy, rather low +on her forehead, its curious contrast with the warm complexion putting +her quite out of the common run of red-cheeked, yellow-locked county +beauties. Her neck was long and slim, and she carried herself +perfectly when moving, though there was a lack of repose about her +whole personality when she stood still. She was dressed charmingly in +some shiny, silky stuff with a pattern of blue forget-me-nots running +over it. On the front of her bodice she wore a small artificial bunch +of these flowers, and a wreath of the same in her hair. + +Many people besides Harry were looking at her, and she was evidently +entirely aware of the fact. + +For the rest of that dance he kept the eye of a lynx upon the +unconscious Tom Bradford, and when that youth had finally resigned his +partner to the chaperonage of a pleasant-looking spinster, he was off +like an arrow after him. Llewellyn looked on rather grimly; he had +some experience of his brother's flames. + +The more precise customs of those days required that young men should +first be introduced to the chaperons of their would-be partners, and +Harry found himself bowing before the lady whom Tom Bradford named as +Miss Ridgeway. She in turn presented him to the girl beside her, who +was fluttering her fan and smiling. + +"My niece, Miss Isoline Ridgeway," she said, throwing an approving +look on the open-faced young fellow. + +By some miracle it appeared that Miss Isoline was not engaged for the +next dance, and as a portly Minor Canon appeared at this juncture and +led away her aunt to the refreshment table, the two were left +together. Harry's heart beat; now that he was safely introduced to the +object of his admiration he could not think what to say to her. +Besides, he was afraid that Llewellyn was looking. + +"I was--I mean--I have been trying to get introduced to you for ever +so long," he stammered out at last, quite forgetting that he had only +caught sight of her about ten minutes before. + +"Then I hope you are grateful to Mr. Bradford," she replied. + +"Yes, I am," said Harry. "Tom is a very good fellow," he added, more +because the sound of his own voice was encouraging than for any other +reason. + +Isoline glanced over her shoulder towards her late partner, as if she +would say that she did not think much of Mr. Bradford. + +"He cannot dance," she remarked. + +"I hope you will find me no worse," said loyal Harry. + +"Oh no," she replied, with a little laugh, "I am sure I shall not." + +"It is strange that I have never seen you before," he said, "for you +live in Hereford, don't you? I have often heard your aunt's name." + +"I lost my parents some time ago, and I have lately come to live with +her. I am only just out of mourning." And she looked down at her +forget-me-not sprinkled dress. + +He did not quite know what to say, but, as the next dance was +beginning, he offered her his arm with a little bow. + +Isoline Ridgeway danced divinely, and Harry felt as though he were +flying into the seventh heaven--wherever that problematical spot may +be--flying and sailing with the mouse-coloured head near his shoulder. +The valse had been so lately introduced into England that, in the +country, people were only beginning to take it up, and very few could +dance it well, so these two, with their perfect accord and grace of +motion, were remarked by many. + +"Who is that pretty girl dancing with my boy?" asked Harry's father of +a neighbour. "They seem to be enjoying themselves." + +The old gentleman addressed adjusted his spectacles. + +"That is Miss Ridgeway's niece," he replied. + +"But, my dear sir, that conveys nothing to me," said the Squire. + +"Old Ridgeway was a solicitor in some Midland town, I believe, and a +slippery scoundrel too. He settled here some time ago, but he has been +dead twenty years or more. His daughter, Miss Ridgeway, lives in the +same house still, and her sister was married to the present Vicar of +Crishowell, near Llangarth. That is all I can tell you about them." + +"Indeed," said the Squire, "I did not know that, though I know Lewis +of Crishowell very well." + +"She is a good creature, Miss Ridgeway, and does a great deal among +the poor. The niece seems more likely to do a great deal among the +rich, if one may judge by her looks. They are not quite the sort of +people one would have met here when I was young." + +"You are right--quite right," said Mr. Fenton. And the two old +gentlemen sighed over the falling away of their times as their fathers +and grandfathers had done before them. + +Meantime the valse had come to an end, and Isoline and Harry went +towards the coolness of the entrance. "Sitting out," for more than a +very few minutes, was not countenanced then as it is now, and they +stood together in the passage looking into the empty street. + +"I shall be very sorry when to-night is over," said he presently. + +"So shall I," she replied demurely. "I enjoy balls more than anything +in the world. I wonder when I shall go to another." + +"Surely you will go to the Hunt Ball? It will be in less than a week." + +"No, I am going away," said she, watching his face for the effect of +her words, and not disclosing the fact that neither she nor her aunt +had been invited. + +"Going away!" echoed he, in dismay. "But where? Forgive me, but I +thought you said you had only just come to Hereford." + +"I am going to stay with my uncle at Crishowell Vicarage while my aunt +goes away for some months; she has been ill, and the doctor ordered +it." + +"Oh, at Crishowell," he said, much relieved. "That is not very far; +I--I go to Crishowell sometimes. I did not know that Mr. Lewis was +your uncle." + +"He married my aunt's sister," said Isoline, "but she is dead. It will +be very dull there." + +"If I have to go to Crishowell on any business--or anything, do you +think he will allow me to pay my respects to you--and to him, of +course?" + +"He might," she answered, looking under her eyelashes. "At any rate, I +will ask him." + +"Thank you, thank you," said Harry fervently. + +Isoline was delighted. The prospect of five or six months in the +unvaried society of her uncle had not been inspiring; she only +remembered him as an unnecessarily elderly person who had once heard +her catechism in her youth and been dissatisfied with the recital. It +was hardly to be supposed that a young girl, full of spirits and eager +for life, could look forward to it, especially one who had grown up in +the atmosphere of small towns and knew nothing of country pleasures. +But the horizon brightened. + +"I think I must go back to my aunt now," she said, with a little prim +air which became her charmingly. + +"But you will give me one more dance?" pleaded Harry. "What a fool I +was to find you so late." + +"I have only one more to give," she replied, "and that is the very +last of all." + +"Keep it for me, pray, and promise you will stay till the end. I can +look after you and Miss Ridgeway, and put you into your carriage when +it is over." + +"Oh, yes, I will stay, if my aunt does not mind," said Isoline, as +they went back to the ballroom. + +The elder Miss Ridgeway was an eminently good-natured person, and the +refreshment administered by the Minor Canon had been sustaining, so +she professed herself ready to remain till the end of the ball, and +Harry, with deep gratitude, betook himself to his other partners till +the blissful moment should arrive when he might claim Isoline again. +He saw nothing more of Llewellyn, who had his own affairs and +amusements on hand, and, for once in his life, he was very glad. It is +to be feared that the girls with whom he danced found him dull +company, as most of the time he was turning over in his mind what +possible pretext he could invent for an early visit to Crishowell. + +The last dance was Sir Roger de Coverley; a great many people had +resolved to see the entertainment out, and, as Harry stood opposite +Isoline in the ranks, he marked with pleasure that it promised to be a +long affair. He had just come from an interview with the bandmaster, +whom he had thoughtfully taken apart and supplied with a bottle of +champagne, and the purposeful manner in which the little round man was +taking his place among the musicians was reassuring. + +Sir Roger is without doubt the most light-hearted and popular of +country dances, nevertheless it is one in which a man is like to see a +great deal more of every one else's partner than of his own. Harry's +time was taken up by bowings, scrapings, and crossings of hands with +the most homely daughter of the Minor Canon, while Isoline went +through the same evolutions with a sprightly gentleman, whose age in +no way hampered the intricate steps with which he ornamented the +occasion. It was unsatisfactory--highly so--like many things ardently +longed for and little enjoyed, and when the music stopped for an +instant before merging itself into "God save the Queen," and people +were bidding each other good-night in groups, the young man ruefully +led her back to her aunt, who was making for the place in which she +had left her cloak. He waited for the two women to come out of the +cloak-room, and then plunged into the street to find the modest fly +which had conveyed his goddess to the ball. The air was bitter, for +the winter sunrise was as yet far off. Coachmen were urging their +horses up to the door, and footmen touching their hats to their +respective masters and mistresses above them on the steps to signify +that their carriages were waiting in the little string that had formed +itself in the road. The fly was wedged in between an omnibus belonging +to one of the town hotels and a large barouche, so there was a few +minutes' delay, in which Harry found time to remind Isoline of her +promise about her uncle. Then he handed Miss Ridgeway respectfully in, +held her niece's fingers in his own for one moment, and the clumsy +vehicle rolled away with a great clatter, leaving him standing upon +the pavement. As he turned to go up the steps he noticed something +lying at his feet, and, stooping, picked up an artificial +forget-me-not. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE BRECON COACH + +THE Green Dragon stood in High Street within sound of the Cathedral +bells, and was the point of migration to the worldly part of the +county, just as the Cathedral was the point of migration to the +spiritual. The Hereford and Brecon coach started from its door, and +one morning, a few days after the ball, a little crowd had collected +as usual to see it off. It was nine o'clock, and the day had not sent +out what little heat it possessed; the ostlers were shivering as they +stood at the horses' heads, and the guard blew on his fingers whenever +he had the courage to take them from his pockets. The coachman, great +man, had not as yet left the landlord's room, in which he was spending +his last minutes before starting, talking to the landlady by the fire, +and occasionally casting an eye through the glass door which opened +upon the main entrance where the passengers were assembling. + +"Guard, guard," cried an old lady, standing near a page who led a +Blenheim spaniel, "will you kindly look among the boxes and see +whether a small dog's water-tin is there? It is marked 'Fido,' and has +'Miss Crouch, Belle Vue Villas, Laurel Grove, Gloucester,' printed +upon the bottom." + +"It's all right, 'm," replied the guard immovably, "I saw to it +myself." The luggage had been put upon the coach a couple of hours +earlier before the horses were harnessed, and he and the ostlers +exchanged winks. + +The page-boy sidled up to his mistress. "I've got it 'ere, mum--under +my arm, mum," he said, holding out the article. + +The passengers smiled with meaning, and Isoline Ridgeway, who was +among them, giggled audibly. + +"If your memory for the mail-bags is not better than your memory for +the luggage," remarked Fido's owner, "there are many who will have to +wait for their letters, my man." + +The passengers smiled again, but this time not at the old lady. + +Miss Ridgeway the elder had left the comfort of her snug Georgian +house at this unusually early hour to see her niece off by the Brecon +coach, which was to put her down at the toll-gate lately demolished by +Rebecca, near the foot of Crishowell Lane, at which place her uncle +was to meet her. + +Isoline wore a fur-trimmed pelisse, and her head was enveloped in a +thick veil, which her aunt had insisted upon her wearing, both as a +protection against the east wind and any undesirable notice which her +face might attract. The two ladies stood in the shelter of the Green +Dragon doorway while the coachman, who had torn himself from the fire, +was gathering up the reins, and the passengers were taking their +seats. Miss Crouch, with Fido on her lap, was installed inside, and +the guard was holding the steps for Isoline to mount, when Harry +Fenton came rushing up wrapped in a long travelling-coat. + +"Just in time!" he called out to the guard; "my luggage is on, I +hope?" + +He turned to Isoline's aunt, hat in hand. + +"As I am going down to Waterchurch to-day," he said, "I hope you will +allow me to look after Miss Ridgeway's comfort and be of any use I can +to her on the way." + +"Thank you, Mr. Fenton," she replied, "I am pleased to think my niece +has the escort of some gentleman whom I know. It will relieve my mind +greatly." + +Isoline said nothing, but she smiled brilliantly behind her veil; then +kissing her aunt, she got into her place, followed by Harry; the +coachman raised his chin at the ostlers, who whipped the rugs from the +horses, and they were off. + +Is there anything in this steam-driven world, except perhaps trotting +to covert on a fresh February morning, which gives a more expectant +fillip to the spirits and a finer sense of exhilaration than starting +on a journey behind four good horses? The height at which one sits, +the rush of the air on one's face, the ring of the sixteen hoofs in +front, the rocking-horse canter of the off-leader ere he makes up his +lordly mind to put his heart into the job and settle to a steady trot, +the purr of the wheels on the road, the smell of the moist country as +the houses are left behind, and the brisk pace now that the first +half-mile has been done and the team is working well together--surely +the man whose blood does not rise at all these, must have the heart of +a mollusc and the imagination of a barn-door fowl. + +Harry had travelled so often behind the blue roan and three bays that +he knew their paces, history, and temper nearly as well as the man who +drove them, and for some time his interest in them was so great as to +make him almost unconscious of Isoline's presence. As they bowled +along she sighed softly, drawing up her rug round her. If it had not +been for the society in which she found herself, she would willingly +have changed places with Miss Crouch inside. The country conveyed +nothing to her eye; it was cold, Harry's want of appreciation was +anything but flattering--and she was accustomed to think a good deal +about what was flattering and what was not; it was rather a favourite +word of hers. She had never looked at the horses, because it had not +occurred to her to do so; in her mind they were merely four animals +whose efforts were necessary to the coach's progress. How could one +wonder at her want of interest in ideas and things of which she had no +knowledge? To her town-bred soul, outdoor life was a dull panorama +seen at intervals through a plate-glass window. Nevertheless, had it +been otherwise, she would not have changed her point of view much, +being one of those women whose spirits rise at no exercise, whose +blood is stirred by no encounter; you might have run the Derby under +her nose without taking her mind from her next neighbour's bonnet. + +Presently Harry looked round and saw her arranging the rug that had +fallen again. + +"I beg your pardon," he cried, "what an oaf you must think me, Miss +Ridgeway! I promised to take care of you, and I don't even see that +you are comfortable." + +"It does not matter at all," she said pleasantly, but with a little +shudder in case he should take her words too literally. + +"But you are cold, I am sure you are," exclaimed he, beginning to pull +off his heavy coat. "You must have this, it will go right over your +dress--cloak--I don't know what it is called." + +"No, no," she protested. "Please, pray, Mr. Fenton, do not be so +absurd. Look, I am all right. The rug only slipped off my knees." + +He tucked it elaborately round her and sat down, resolving to devote +himself to her and to nothing else; and, as it was with a view to this +purpose that he had timed his journey home, no doubt he was right. + +"Where do you expect to meet Mr. Lewis?" he inquired. "I suppose at +Llangarth?" + +"I am to leave the coach at some toll-gate, I do not quite know where, +but the guard understands, I believe, and my uncle will be there. I +think it is only just being put up, for the Rebecca-ites destroyed +it." + +"I have some reason to know that place," observed Harry, with a sigh; +"I would give a thousand pounds--if I had it--to catch the man who was +at the bottom of that night's work. I tried hard, but I failed." + +"How interesting; do tell me all about it," said she. "You were there +with the military, were you not?" + +"The yeomanry, yes. But we did little good." + +"Were you in your regimentals? How I should like to have been there to +see the yeomanry!" + +"You would not have liked to see poor Vaughan, the toll-man, killed, +though he was a fine sight standing up against the rioters." + +"But why did he come out if there were so many against him? Surely he +would not have been killed if he had stayed inside until help came?" + +"He was responsible for the gate," said Harry. + +"And he would have been blamed, I suppose," said Isoline. "How +unjust!" + +"No, he wouldn't have been blamed," said Fenton. He was too young to +reflect that people might belong to the same nation and yet speak +different languages. + +"Poor old man, how very sad," said the girl. "Which of those dreadful +rioters killed him?" + +"A man called Walters--Rhys Walters--a very large farmer." + +"Good gracious!" exclaimed Isoline; "then will he be hanged?" + +"He will have to stand his trial for manslaughter--that is, when they +catch him, if they ever do, for he is a wonderful fellow. I thought at +one time I might have taken him myself, but he slipped through my +fingers, I can't imagine how to this day." + +"And were you near when he killed the toll-keeper?" + +"I was, but I did not actually see it done. One of our men and two +constables swore at the inquest that they saw Walter's arm fly up and +the man go down. It was so dark and everything was so mixed up that +one could hardly tell what was happening, but an inn-keeper named +Evans was close by, and he saw the blow struck. He was one of the men +caught, and he confessed everything." + +She was really interested, and was listening with her lips parted. + +"When I saw Walters making off I followed hard. I made up my mind I +would get hold of him if I could, but he was on a good mare, and he +took me over the worst places he could find; I very nearly came to +grief among the boulders at a brook, the light was bad and they were +so slippery, but I got through somehow, and I heard him in Crishowell +Lane not far ahead. When he got to the top of it, he made for the +Black Mountain as hard as he could, and I kept within sound of his +hoofs till we were about a quarter of a mile from his own farm; then I +heard him pull up into a walk. When I rode up I saw that the horse was +riderless, so I suppose he must have slipped off somewhere along the +foot of the mountain and left me to follow it. That was the second +time he had made a fool of me." + +"Did you know him before?" + +"I met him not far from that very place, as I was coming down to +Waterchurch from London the day after Christmas. I rode from Hereford +on, and lost my way in the fog by the mountain. He was groping about +too, and he pretended to go out of his road to show me mine--devil +that he is--but I know why he did it now." + +"Why?" + +"He rode with me so as to talk about the riot, for every one knew that +there would be one; so he put me on the wrong scent; he seemed to have +some secret information about it, and it tallied with other rumours we +had heard, so the police and the yeomanry were kept night after night +at the gate by the river at Llangarth. If it had not been for a boy +who saw the rioters making for the toll by Crishowell Lane, and who +ran all the way to the town with the information, they would have got +off scot-free. What would I not give to catch that man!" + +"I am afraid you are very vindictive, Mr. Fenton." + +"They are scouring the country steadily," continued he, unheeding, +"but they can find no trace of him. It is extraordinary." + +But Isoline had grown tired of the subject now that the sensational +part of it was over, and she directed her companion's attention to +some passing object. + +The sun had come out, and she was beginning to enjoy herself; it was +pleasant to be seen abroad too with such a smart-looking young fellow +in attendance. + +They chatted and laughed as the hedges flew by, and when the first +stage was done and they pulled up before the creaking signboard of a +village inn to change horses, both regretted that a part of their +journey was over. Harry was too much engrossed to get down and watch +the new team being put in--a matter which the coachman, who knew him +well, did not fail to notice, and he and the guard exchanged comments. + +"Hi, there!" cried a voice from the road, "have you got a place left +for one?" A sturdy young man in leather leggings was coming round a +corner, waving his stick. + +Harry started up. + +"Gad, Llewellyn, is that you?" he cried, looking down on the crown of +his brother's head. + +"It is," replied Llewellyn, putting his foot on the axle and swinging +himself up. "Is there a vacant place anywhere, Harry?" + +"Yes, a man has just left the one behind me. Miss Ridgeway, this is my +brother, Mr. Llewellyn Fenton. Miss Ridgeway is travelling to +Crishowell, and I am--I mean, I have--I was asked by her aunt to look +after her." + +"Mornin', sir," said the guard, coming out of the inn and touching his +hat. "Any luggage? Two vacant places, sir." + +"No, nothing; only myself." + +"I didn't expect to see you, Loo. What have you been doing here?" +asked Harry. + +"Looking after pigs," said Llewellyn, as he sat down. + +Isoline opened her eyes; she thought that only people who wheeled +barrows with pitchforks stuck in them did that. + +"He is my father's agent," explained Harry. + +Llewellyn was rather amused. Harry had not told him that he was going +down to Waterchurch that day, so the meeting of the brothers was +purely accidental. It did not escape him that two was company and +three was none, for he marked Isoline's little air of complacency at +her entire absorption of her cavalier, and his having broken in upon +her raised a faint but pleasant malice in him. It could not exactly be +said that he disliked her, for he did not know her in the least, +though he had observed her a good deal at the ball, and, considering +that he had seen very little of the world, he was a youth wonderfully +free from prejudice. But, had he put his feelings into thoughts, he +would have known that he was irritated. Isoline glanced at him once or +twice, and made up her mind that she hated him. + +"Were you buying pigs then?" asked Harry, as they were trotting along +the high-road again. + +"Father wants a few young Berkshires, and I came to see some belonging +to a man out here. It sounds low, does it not, Miss Ridgeway?" said +his brother, looking at Isoline, and knowing by instinct that the +subject was uncongenial. + +"Oh, no, not at all, I assure you," replied she, quite uncertain how +she ought to take his remark. That pigs were vulgar was well known, +nevertheless she could not help a vague suspicion that she was being +laughed at. But Llewellyn's face was inscrutable, and she could only +move uneasily on her seat and wish him miles away. + +For the rest of the journey the two young men looked after her +carefully, Llewellyn vying with his brother in his attention to her +every wish; but a snake had entered into her Eden, a snake who was so +simple that she could not understand him, but who was apparently not +simple enough to misunderstand her. + +Sometime later they clattered through Llangarth, stopping at the Bull +Inn, where Harry had been kept for so many hours on the night of the +riot, and went along the Brecon road parallel with the river. The +toll-gate by Crishowell had not yet been re-erected, and the bare +posts stuck dismally up at the wayside by the little slate-roofed +house. As it came in sight they observed a vehicle drawn up beside the +hedge, and evidently awaiting the advent of the coach. + +"That must be my uncle's carriage," said Isoline, beginning to collect +her wraps. + +They stopped at the toll, and the guard prepared to disentangle Miss +Ridgeway's possessions from the other luggage. Harry and Llewellyn +jumped down, and the former went towards the strange-looking +conveyance which was moored up under the lee of the hedge. He peered +into the weather-beaten hood which crowned it, expecting to find the +Vicar of Crishowell inside, but its only occupant was a huddled-up +figure fast asleep. He shook it smartly. + +Howlie Seaborne opened his eyes without changing his position. + +"Wake up, boy!" cried Fenton, leaning over the wheel and plastering +himself with a layer of mud by the act; "do you belong to Mr. Lewis?" + +"Naw," said Howlie. + +"Then has no one come to meet Miss Ridgeway?" + +"Here oi be, but oi belong to moiself an' to no one else. Be her +come?" + +"Your uncle is not here, but he has sent for you," said Harry, going +up to the coach from which Llewellyn was helping Isoline to descend. + +Howlie gave the old white mare in front of him a slap with the whip, +and arrived in the middle of the road with a great creaking and +swaying. + +"Oi can't take them boxes along," he remarked, pointing to Miss +Ridgeway's luggage which stood in the road. + +"Never mind, you can send for them after," said Harry. "Guard, put +them in the toll-house if any one is there." + +While this was being done, Isoline climbed up beside Howlie, and the +young men wished her good-bye. + +"You will ask your uncle?" said Harry, looking earnestly into the +hood. + +"Yes, yes," she said, waving her hand. "Good-bye, good-bye, Mr. +Fenton, and thank you for taking such care of me!" + +Then the vehicle lumbered into Crishowell Lane with one wheel almost +up on the bank. + +"Can you drive, boy?" she asked nervously. + +"Yaas," replied Howlie; "can you?" + + + +CHAPTER XII + +GEORGE'S BUSINESS + +IT was well into the middle of January, and a few days after Isoline's +arrival, before Rhys was sufficiently recovered from his injuries to +move about; luckily for him, no bones had been broken, and George's +simple nursing, supplemented by the Pig-driver's advice, had met every +need. The slight concussion and the exposure had brought on fever, +which left him so helpless and weak that he could not rise from his +bed without help, while the strange place he was forced to inhabit +held back his progress, for he could get no more fresh air than was +admitted by the openings in the wall. When he was able to walk again, +George would drag him up the ladder after night had fallen, and he +would pace unsteadily about the potato-patch, ready to disappear into +the cottage at the faintest sound of an approaching foot. But such a +thing was rarely heard near their God-forsaken habitation, and, when +it was, it belonged to no other than Bumpett. Had he searched the +kingdom, he could not have found a safer place in which to hide his +head, than the one chance had brought him to on the night of his +flight. + +Convalescence, once begun, makes strides in a constitution such as +his. Every day added something to his strength, bringing at the same +time an impatience of captive life, untold longings for a new horizon; +by the time he was practically a sound man with the full use of his +limbs, he was half mad with the monotony of his days. Besides this, +Nannie, according to Bumpett's order, had brought most of his everyday +possessions to the Pedlar's Stone, and, once in his own clothes, an +intense desire for his past identity came upon him, embittered by the +knowledge that his choice lay between an absolute abandonment of it, +and prison and disgrace. All his life he had been accustomed to be +somebody, and he felt like a man in a dream as he looked round at the +sheepskins, the iron hooks, and implements of Williams' illicit trade. +Only a few miles divided him from Great Masterhouse; surely he had but +to step out of these unworthy surroundings and go back to his own! +Everything since his illness seemed unreal, his old self was the true +one, this a nightmare, a sham. Nevertheless, between him stood that +one night's deed like a sentry and barred the way. + +There was not even the remotest prospect of escape, for Bumpett, who +made it his business to gather all the news he could about the search, +had strongly impressed on him the necessity of lying low. When it +should be given up as hopeless and vigilance relaxed, the time would +be come, he said, to make for Cardiff, and get out on the high seas by +hook or by crook. The knowledge of the fugitive's hiding-place would +remain entirely between the Pig-driver and George Williams, for the +old man was firm in his refusal to divulge it to Nannie, devoted as +she was, saying that what he had seen of women did not incline him to +trust them with his secrets. "They be a pore set," he observed, +"they've room for naught i' their heads but tongues." + +So Rhys and George made up their minds to live together for some time +to come, though it was hardly a prospect that gave either much +satisfaction. That the one owed a debt of gratitude to the other did +not tend to make matters better, for being under an obligation to a +person with whom one is not in sympathy, can scarce be called a +pleasure, and Rhys was not at all in sympathy with George. Acutely +sensitive as to what people thought of him, whether he actually +respected their opinion or not, he soon saw that it was from no +personal admiration or regard that he had been so carefully tended--as +much would have been done for any human creature in distress. The +sheep-stealer too was at all times a taciturn man with deep prejudices +and strong loves and hates; simple and unpretentious to a degree +himself, he loathed all pretension in others, and felt it hard to bear +the airs of superiority and patronizing ways which were seldom absent +from Rhys' manner towards him. Coming from a runaway criminal to whom +he was extending shelter they were absurd; but George did not think of +that, for he had as little humour as Rhys, though its want arose from +vastly different causes. The lighter aspects of life had passed him +by, and he was hampered by the misfit of his double life to his +eminently single mind. And whenever he looked at Rhys, the face of the +girl in the churchyard rose before him. + +It was the direst necessity which had induced George Williams to stray +so far across the line of honesty, and bitterly he regretted the step. +A couple of years before, he and his mother, a blind old woman, had +inhabited a little hovel near Presteign, which belonged to the +Pig-driver, for the old man owned many cottages in various parts of +the neighbourhood. As she could do nothing towards their livelihood, +the whole maintenance of the household fell upon the son, who worked +hard at such odd jobs as he could get, and earned a small sum weekly +by hedging and ditching. They lived very frugally, and with great +management made both ends meet, until, one winter, the widow fell ill +and took to her bed; then came the pinch. At the end of her illness +the young man found himself in debt with arrears of rent and no +prospect of paying; besides which, he was receiving messages from +Bumpett every week to the effect that, if money were not forthcoming, +they would be turned out of doors. Work was slack, and he was in +despair; finally he went off to Abergavenny to interview his landlord, +and to get, if possible, a little grace from the close-fisted old man. + +It happened that, at that time, Bumpett was beginning to make a +regular business of sheep-stealing; he had started by receiving the +stolen goods from men whose private enterprise had led them to lay +hands on the animals, and he ended by taking the responsibility of the +trade on himself, and stipulating that the actual thieves should enter +his employment and supply no other person. It had paid him well. +George's need was his opportunity; he wanted another active, reliable +hand, and, knowing most things about most people connected with him, +he perceived that this steady and trustworthy young fellow was the man +for the place. He told him that he meant to offer him a chance on +condition that he pledged his word to secrecy, and, when this had been +done, he put before him a choice of two things; either he was to +become his workman at a small fixed wage, living rent-free in the +cottage which now sheltered Rhys, or he was to turn out of his present +quarters the next day with a debt which he could not pay off. If he +accepted the first alternative his debt was to be cancelled. This +contract was to hold good for three years, during which time he was to +serve Bumpett entirely, sworn faithfully to secrecy when the time +should have elapsed. + +It was a hard struggle with fate for the poor boy, and one in which he +came off second-best; he took the Pig-driver's terms with a heavy +heart, and entered on his new occupation, going out for several nights +with an expert thief, both in the near and more remote parts of the +county, to see the way in which things were done. Afterwards he +removed with his mother to their new abode, where the poor woman, +being blind, dwelt till the day of her death without knowing how her +son was occupied. She lived in that end of the cottage which did not +communicate with the cellar, and George, who still kept his hedge and +ditching work, easily persuaded her that it was to this and to the +lower rent of their new home that they owed their comparative +prosperity. She had now been dead about ten months, and he was still +working out his time with his employer and longing for its end. + +"What are you going to do?" asked Rhys one afternoon, as he saw George +take a pickaxe and shovel from a corner of the cottage. The outer door +was locked, and he had come up from below to escape the dullness of +his underground dwelling for a while. + +"Dig a hole in the garden," replied the other, "I be goin' out +to-night, and maybe there'll be something to bury afore morning." + +"I'll come with you," said Rhys. + +"Well, I suppose you may as well begin some time, and, if you're +feeling right enough, I've nothing against it. It'll be a change for +you." + +"I am sick and tired of this place," exclaimed his companion +ungraciously, for he was somewhat piqued by the indifferent acceptance +of his companion. He had condescended rather in offering his help. + +"I'll lock the door on the outside," observed Williams, as he went +out, "so you needn't go below again." + +Rhys sat down by the hearth and listened to the strokes of the pickaxe +among the gooseberry bushes outside. He took out his watch and counted +the hours till night should come and he should go for the first time +beyond the walls of the weary little garden which had become so +hateful to him. Seven hours; it was an age to wait. But it went by at +last. + +In the dark of the moonless night the two men went out, taking with +them the few implements needful to their work--a piece of rope, a +small, very heavy hammer, and a long knife which George attached to a +leather belt round his middle. Rhys carried a dark lantern, which for +extra safety was muffled in a felt bag, and an old, tattered cloak. As +they stepped across the plank into the track up the hillside, the +smell of the chill night blew against his nostrils. The air was thick, +only faintly penetrated by stars, and bearing with it a chill of +approaching rain, but, to the captive, it was a taste of Paradise. He +drew a long breath and rubbed his feet against the turf for the pure +pleasure of feeling again its firm velvet, and there ran through his +being that sense of expansion, mental and physical, which comes to +many people in the wide stillness of the night world. Had he been a +woman, he would have wept; as it was he did not analyze his feelings, +but was merely conscious that he had been dead and that he lived +again. + +As they passed the Pedlar's Stone they halted for a minute while +George showed him the rock a few yards off under which the meat could +be hidden until Bumpett should come to take it away. Rhys pushed his +arm into the hole beneath and felt the lining of hay which was put +there periodically for its better preservation. His hand was stung by +the nettles growing round and above it. + +When they reached the Twmpa's foot they went westward and skirted the +base, keeping as close to it as possible, then turned into a creek +down which a rush of mountain-water was flowing between rocks. + +Rhys understood nothing of his companion's plan and was not inclined +to question him, so he kept silence; though his interest was roused he +had sense enough to know that obedience would further their work, and +that trusting to Williams would be the best way of saving them both +from the chance of discovery. The sheep-stealer stopped where the +running water swirled into a pool and out again yet more violently +through a narrow place in the rocks, and directed him to set down the +lantern. + +"We'll come back here when we get our beast," he said. "Listen, do you +hear anything?" + +Across the noise of the torrent came the faint baa of a sheep. + +"There's a flock not far off," said George. + +"There used to be a hut up here," said Rhys, stretching out his arm +towards the slope above. + +"Aye, an' likely there's a man in it too," replied the other. "I can't +see no light. Maybe he's sleeping. He'll have to hearken pretty smart +if he's to hear we." + +They crossed the water and began quietly to descend the hillside. Some +way up they could see the dim forms of the sheep, above them again the +shepherd's hut, a faint excrescence on the sky-line. Williams uncoiled +the rope he carried and twisted it round his body; in one hand he held +the hammer. + +"Now," he said to Rhys, "put the cloak over your back an' get on your +hands and knees. Keep anigh me, and when you see me throw the sheep, +down you wi' the cloak over his head to stop his noise and hold him +fast. I'll do the rest." + +They crawled forward, one behind the other, stopping for several +minutes at a time, flattened against the earth when they saw any +animal look in their direction. The sheep were feeding unconsciously, +having finished the first long sleep with which the animal world +begins the night, and when they were close enough to see their white +bodies take definite shape in the dull starlight, Williams chose his +victim, a fine large wether on the outskirts of the flock. Rhys +pressed close behind him. + +They were well within a couple of yards of their game when the animal +sniffed suspiciously and would have turned his head towards the danger +after the manner of horned creatures. But George's hand had gripped +him by the hind-leg and laid him with a turn of the wrist on the +hillside before he had fully realized that an enemy was upon him, and +he was struggling half suffocated by the heavy cloak which Walters +flung round his head. The two strong men held him down with all their +might till his efforts had grown less violent and Williams had unwound +the rope from his body and tied his legs. Then he took up the hammer +and, with all his force, dealt him one tremendous blow between the +horns. The sheep quivered and lay still. + +"Thank God, that's done," he said, getting up from his knees. + +They hoisted their prize on to George's back and went stealthily down +the hill to the stream. Here they laid it on a rock, and while Rhys +held its head over the water, his companion severed the large artery +in the throat. The lantern which they had turned on their work showed +the crimson stain, as it mixed itself with the torrent, to be borne +whirling down between the boulders and out of sight. + +When the blood had ceased flowing, Williams took a wisp of hay and +stopped the wound, binding it round with a strand of rope; he washed +the red marks from his hands and sleeves and from the stones on which +they had been kneeling, making Rhys search each foot of ground with +the lantern for the least traces of their deed. Then he got the dead +beast upon his back again covered by the cloak, and they set their +faces towards the cottage. + +Since they had started that night, the sheep-stealer had taken rather +a different place in his companion's mind. Accustomed to regard him as +a clod and no more, the calm skill he displayed in his occupation and +his great personal strength impressed Rhys, and, for the first time in +their acquaintance, he spoke an appreciative word. + +"That was a wonderful fine bit of work," he remarked as they left the +mountain behind them, "few could match you at that, Williams!" + +"'Tis a cursed business," said George between his teeth. "God's truth! +but I do hate it!" + +"Then what makes you do it, man?" exclaimed Rhys. + +"Ah, that's just it. I've sold myself to the devil, that's why." + +Rhys laughed. "Where did you meet with him?" he asked lightly. + +"At Abergavenny," replied George gravely. "And his name is James +Bumpett." + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE SEVEN SNOW-MEN + +MARY'S child opened its eyes prematurely on this world, only to wail +itself out of it again in a couple of weeks. It was a miserable, +feeble little creature, but the mother clung to it, though it was the +son of her father's murderer, of the lover whose baseness towards +herself seemed to her nothing compared with his baseness in lifting +his hand against the grey head now lying by the wall in Crishowell +churchyard. This she told herself again and again as she lay tossing +in the weary days succeeding its birth. Though her love for the father +was dead, struck down by that foul blow, she had still some to give +the child; it was hers, she felt, hers alone. He had never seen it, +never would see it, and never would his face shadow its little life. + +During her illness the Vicar had been to visit her, and had tried, +very gently, to bring home to her the greatness of her fault. She +listened to his words meekly and with respect, but he left the house +feeling that he had not made much impression. When he was gone she +thought over all he had said; to have explained to him what was in her +heart would have been impossible, for she could hardly explain it to +herself, but she knew that, though she recoiled from the man who had +once been everything to her, she could not go back upon the love. It +was a gift she had made fully, freely, rejoicing in the giving, and +she would not repent it. If the sun had gone down on her and left her +to grope through the black night, she would accept it as the price of +her short happiness; she felt this instinctively, dumbly. She was +proud, and, knowing that all the world would think itself at liberty +to cast stones at her, she was not going to invite it to do so, much +less to shrink from its uplifted hand. The thing was her affair, her +loss, and no one else's. Life would be hard, but she would meet it for +the child's sake; she would make him an honest man, and, perchance, if +she did her duty by him, he might one day stand between her and the +loneliness of existence. That was what one might call the middle +stratum of her soul; down below--far, far down--there was a tideless +sea of grief. Then the poor little infant died. + +In a small place like Crishowell it is scant news that can remain +hidden; what is known to one is the property of the whole community, +and Mary's history was soon in every mouth. Horror and mystery were +sweet to the rural taste, which was beginning to feel dulled after +such a surfeit of events as the riot, the arrests, Vaughan's death, +and Rhys' disappearance. The tale of her double wrong gave it +something to think about again, and the talk reached the ears of +George Williams at last, though he mixed rarely with his fellow-men, +and consequently knew little of the topics of the village. + +He had thought a great deal about the toll-keeper's daughter since the +day he had found her sitting in the churchyard, for, in that moment, +he seemed to have looked into her very heart. He knew now that he had +only seen half of it. He was anything but a vindictive man, but as he +walked out of the village one evening with his newly-gotten knowledge, +if he could have done what he liked, he would have gone straight home +and killed Rhys Walters, then and there, with his two hands. Seeing +the story laid out before his mind's eye, he wondered how he should +manage to exist under the same roof with him. His view was not +altogether a just one, for he could hardly have felt more strongly had +Walters deliberately murdered the father in order to ruin the daughter +unopposed, but he did not stop to think of that. He saw things in the +rough, and in the rough he dealt with them. He knew that Bumpett would +never consent to his turning him out, for the Pig-driver had got Rhys +into his power and meant to keep him there, as he had done with +himself. It was hard enough to find suitable men for his work--and men +who were dependent on him could tell no tales. The old man was +exaggerating every difficulty in the way of getting the fugitive out +of the country, so that he might retain him where he was and have him +at his service; Rhys also was becoming enamoured of the business, +which suited him exactly, and growing almost reconciled to his life, +now that he could spend his nights outside. Whether there was work on +foot or not, he left the cottage with the dark--often with the +dusk--remaining out until dawn, and spending most of his day in sleep. +Where he went George neither knew nor cared, but the day would come, +he thought, when Walters would get over-venturesome, and let himself +be seen. Though it would probably involve his own ruin, he prayed that +it might be soon. All he longed for was the end of his bondage to his +taskmaster, and of the hated company he was enduring. + +The Pig-driver ran his trade on bold lines. It had to be largely done +to make it pay him, and he had taken two relations into partnership +who had butchers' shops in other towns. The farmers who grazed their +herds on the mountain-lands of Breconshire, and who suffered from this +organized system of marauding, had no idea, in these days of slow +communication and inefficient police, how to protect their interests. +On the side of the Black Mountain with which we are familiar, they +employed watchers for the flocks on dark winter nights, but hitherto +George's skill and luck had been greater than theirs, and he left no +traces of his deeds behind him. Once the dead animal had disappeared +beneath his floor, it emerged again in pieces, for all the cutting up +was done below, the skins dried before the fire, and each head with +the tell-tale mark on the skull buried in the garden. Only after a +fall of snow, when footmarks were ineffaceable, sheep-stealing was an +impossibility. + +It had been coming down thickly, and after the fall the wind blew +billows of white into all the hedgerows, which were broken in great +gaps by the weight; everywhere they were being mended, and George was +employed at a place on the further side of the Wye to repair about +half-a-mile of damage. + +He had finished early, and, after crossing the river, the fancy took +him to return along the shore and strike homewards into Crishowell +Lane by the toll-house, where Mary was still living with the new +toll-keeper's wife. The woman was a good soul, and had nursed her +through her trouble, and the girl was to remain with her father's +successors until it was settled where she should live, and how she +might support herself, and increase the small sum subscribed for her +by the public in memory of the dead man. + +He went down towards the water and kept along the high bank beside it. +It was easy walking, for the wind had blown off the river where it +could gather no snow, and the path was almost dry; below him the dark, +swirling pools lay like blackened glass under the willows, whose +knotted stems overhung them. The fields on his right were three inches +deep in their dazzling cover. As his eye roamed over the expanse, some +objects in a hollow a short way ahead caught his attention, detaching +themselves as he drew near, and he saw that the boys of the +neighbouring cottages had been at work. Seven gigantic snow-men were +grouped together and stood round in a sort of burlesque Stonehenge, +their imbecile faces staring on the monotonous winter landscape. There +had been a slight fall since their erection, and though the grass +round had been scraped clean by their creators, it was covered with a +white powdering, few marks of their work being left. They seemed to +have risen from the ground of themselves, seven solitary, +self-contained, witless creatures. Not one of them boasted any +headgear, all the round bullet heads standing uncovered on the +pillar-like bodies; rough attempts at arms had been made, but these +had not been a success, for the fragments lay around their feet. Their +mouths grinned uniformly, indicated by long bits of stick embedded in +the lower part of their jaws, and black stones above did duty for +eyes. George contemplated the vacant crew with a smile. He was in no +special hurry, so he stood for some time looking at them. + +Silence lay over everything, heavier than the sky, deeper than the +snow. + +He turned his head towards the Wye, for from somewhere by the bank +came the sound of heavy breathing, as of a creature wrestling with a +load, pausing occasionally, but recommencing again after a moment's +rest. There was a movement among the small branches of an immense +willow whose arm stretched over a bit of deep water. The twigs were +thick, and the bank shelved out like a roof over the trunk, so, though +he could not see the man or beast, he gathered that whichever was +struggling there must be down below on a ledge running a few feet +above the river. He went cautiously towards the spot and looked over +the edge. A woman whom he recognized as Mary Vaughan was scrambling +along towards the limb of the great tree. Was he always to be an +unwilling spy upon her? he asked himself as he saw her. + +He drew back and turned to go, when it struck him that he had better +not leave her alone, as her foothold on the rotten bank seemed rather +insecure, and he knew the pool below to be one of the deepest in the +Wye, so he split the difference by getting behind a holly-bush whose +evergreen boughs formed a thick screen in front of him, and through an +opening in which he could observe her movements. He could not imagine +what she was doing, and, until he saw her reach a place of safety, he +determined to stay near. Afterwards he would steal away unperceived. + +Mary made her way towards the willow-branch, and, putting her foot +upon an excrescence of the bark, she climbed up and seated herself +upon it. George could see that her face was drawn and haggard, as the +face of one who has not slept for many nights; it was thin too, and +the fire of her beautiful eyes seemed drowned in unshed tears. She +drew herself along the thickness of the bough until she was two or +three yards from the shore and sat staring before her. A great pang of +pity shot through the heart of the man watching her, as it occurred to +him that her troubles might have turned her brain. He dared not stir +while she sat there so still, for fear of making himself heard, and he +held his breath in dread lest she might lose her balance, if startled, +and slip from her seat into the pool underneath. Presently she began +to fumble with something lying on the bough which he saw to be a piece +of rope. + +He pressed a little nearer, peering under his hand through the +holly-leaves into the gloom of the willow. A large stone was resting +just where the branches divided into a fork beyond her, and one end of +the rope was tied tightly round it; her efforts to get it into its +present position had certainly caused the heavy breathing which had +attracted him as he stood by the snow-men. It seemed a miracle that +such a slight creature should have found strength to get the unwieldy +thing up from the water-side, along the slippery bank and out on to +the branch. George stood dumbly gazing at the unconscious woman, his +steady-going mind in a turmoil. That she was mad he did not doubt, and +that he must do something to get her away from her dangerous seat was +certain. While he was debating how he should manage it, she took the +slip-knot at the loose end of the rope, and, holding out her feet, +began to work it round her ankles. Then he understood that it was not +madness he was watching, but the last scene of a tragedy, which, if he +did not act at once, would be played before his eyes. + +To shout out, forbidding her to do this thing, would, he knew, be +useless, for the rope was already round her feet, and she would merely +spring off into the water, before he could reach her. With such a +weight to drag her down, rescue would be almost impossible from the +depths which she had chosen for her grave, and might mean the loss of +two lives instead of one. He was not particularly afraid of death, but +he liked doing things thoroughly, and, as drowning himself would not +save her, he did not intend to take the risk if he could do without +it. + +Instinct told him that, apart from all fear of prevention, people do +not take their lives in presence of the casual passer-by, and he knew +that in assuming that character lay his best chance. Mary had covered +her face with her hands as though she were praying, and he seized the +moment to get himself on to the path. Then he coughed as unconcernedly +as he could, and strolled by the tree swinging his bill-hook. She kept +as quiet as a bird sitting on a nest, looking at him with startled +eyes. + +"Good-day to ye," he began, as he stopped on the bank above her. + +Mary murmured something inaudible, and drew her feet as far as she +could under her skirt that he might not see the rope. + +"That's a rotten bough you be settin' on," he continued; "come off, or +belike it'll break down." + +"No, 'tis not," she replied, trembling in every limb; "you needn't +mind me. I'm safe enough." + +For reply he laid hold of a projecting root, and swung himself down +upon the ledge. + +"Look," said he, drawing her attention to a hollow in the limb, and +coming a little nearer at each word, "it's all sodden, I tell ye." + +For fear of betraying her feet, she did not stir as he advanced; she +remembered him as the man in the churchyard, and she knew his name, +but his determined face awed her, and the shining bill-hook in his +hand made him look almost as if he were going to attack her. + +When he had reached the bough he suddenly sprang upon it, and laid his +hand upon her arm. His grip was like iron. Mary screamed aloud; she +had not feared death, but she was terrified of George Williams. + +He held her firmly as they sat; her strained nerves were beginning to +give way, and her determination to flutter to the ground like a piece +of paper hurled into the air. She looked round despairingly. + +"Put your feet up on the bough, girl," he said sternly. + +"I can't," she faltered. + +They were sitting upon it side by side, more like a pair of children +on a gate, than a man and woman with the shadow of death between them. +He was holding her fast with his left hand, but he loosened his grip, +and put his arm firmly about her. + +"Do as I bid ye," he said, very quietly. "Turn sideways with your back +to me and lean against me." + +She obeyed. + +"Now put your feet up on the bough. Gently, mind." + +She drew them up with some difficulty till they rested upon it before +her; a piece of the rope lay across the wood near the fork. + +"Sit still!" he cried, holding her in a vice. + +The bill-hook whirled above them and came down in a clean cut upon the +branch; the two ends of the rope fell away, one on either side. George +gave the great stone a push with the point of the blade and it fell +from its place, splashing into the blackness below and sending up a +shower of icy drops. The circles widened and widened underneath till +they fell out of shape against the sides of the pool. + +"Do ye see that?" he exclaimed, releasing her and looking at her with +stern eyes. "Mary Vaughan, that's where you would be now, but that I +had been set to take this way an' not the high-road." + +She made no reply. + +"Will you repent it?" he asked, "or be I to tell on you? They at the +toll-house are like enough to shut you up if I do--and 'twill be no +more nor their duty too." + +Her overwrought mind was beginning to feel the influence of his quiet +strength of purpose and she resented it. A sullen expression crossed +her face. + +"Do as you will," she answered. "What do I care? You've done me an ill +trick an' I hate you for it. Go, I tell you!" + +She turned her head away. He sat quietly beside her, pity and wrath in +his heart. + +"Will you let me be?" she said, after a pause, turning on him and +gathering excitement in her voice. + +"I won't." + +Then her lips shook and her breast heaved, and she burst into a +torrent of helpless tears. + +"Poor lass, poor lass," exclaimed the young man; and, with an impulse +that had in it no shadow of his sex, he put his arm round her. She +clung to him, weeping violently. She would have done the same had he +been a stock or a stone. He tossed the bill-hook up on to the bank, +and stroked her hair clumsily with his large rough hand. + +"Come away from here," he said, when the rush of her grief had +subsided, "this is a bad, lonesome place to be in, Mary. I'll lift you +down and we'll go up on the bank. If there's aught you want to say to +me, say it up there." + +He helped her off the bough, and from the ledge up to the path. They +stood facing each other. + +"And now what can I do?" he asked. "How am I to leave you alone? I +can't bide by you all day to see that you come to no harm." + +She opened her lips to speak, but no sound came. + +"Look," he went on, "will you hearken to one thing I've got to say and +not take it ill o' me?" + +She raised her eyes to his. + +"If you was gone--drowned and gone--who would mind that little one +you've brought into the world? Would you leave it alone, poor little +babe, to them as might misuse it?" + +"But he's dead," she said simply, and the agony in her face made him +turn away his own. He met the placid gaze of the snow-men, whose +foolish eyes seemed intent upon them both. + +"Was that why you was--why I found you there?" he asked in a low +voice. + +"Yes," she said. "I've nothing now, you see. There's none to care." + +For some time neither spoke. + +"Mary," said Williams at last, his face still turned to the white +images in the hollow, "will ye take me for a friend? God knows I +bean't no manner o' use." + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE USES OF A CAST SHOE + +MISS ISOLINE RIDGEWAY was standing before an object which usually took +up a good deal of her time and attention, namely, the looking-glass. +As it was placed at right angles to her bedroom window, there could be +seen beyond her left shoulder as she arranged her hair, the great yew +in the churchyard and a piece of the church-path framed in by the +sash. Behind it was a background of sky turning into a frosty gold. + +Crishowell Vicarage was a small, old, whitewashed house which had once +been a farm-house, with gabled windows looking westward; between it +and the lane dividing it from the churchyard was a duck-pond that, in +wet seasons, overflowed into the Digedi brook, which ran round the +Vicar's orchard at the back. + +Isoline had just come in, and her hat and walking-things lay upon the +bed where she had thrown them. As the room was low, and the early +winter sunset hardly penetrated into the house by reason of the rising +ground opposite on which the church stood, she had lit a candle, whose +spot of feeble light only served to accentuate the dark around her; a +rat was scraping in the wainscot, and she shuddered as she looked +towards the place from which the noise came. She yawned, and wondered +what she could do to amuse herself until supper-time, for it was only +half-past four, and the Vicar kept old-fashioned hours--breakfast at +nine, a substantial dinner at three, supper at eight, prayers at +eight-thirty, and bed at ten o'clock. Since she had arrived at +Crishowell the days seemed to have lengthened into weeks and the weeks +into months. The old man was all kindness, but there was no one of her +own age with whom she could associate, and the few visits she had made +at his suggestion to the poor folks living round them had resulted in +boredom to herself and constraint to them. She had a true, though +rather thin voice, and she would gladly have practised her singing had +there been some instrument on which to accompany herself, but +unfortunately there was nothing of the sort in the house. Time hung +heavy on her hands, for Mr. Lewis's library was mainly theological, +and contained nothing which could amuse a girl. It was dull indeed. + +A knock at the door drew her attention from the glass. "Who is there?" +she called, as she laid down the comb. + +"Oi," was the reply, which came from suspiciously near the keyhole. + +"What do you want?" she asked impatiently, opening the door on Howlie +Seaborne. + +"Yew're to come down," he announced baldly. + +"I am not ready," said she, with a haughty look. "Who sent you up +here, I should like to know?" + +"Parson says yew be to come down," he repeated. + +"Howell!" she exclaimed sharply, using the name by which he was known +to his superiors, "how often have I told you that that is not the way +to speak of Mr. Lewis; I never heard of such impertinence!" + +"An' if a bain't a parson, wot be he? Ye moight call 'im even worse +nor that too, oi suppose," replied Howlie with a snort. + +Mr. Lewis's requirements were modest, so he kept only one indoor +servant, who cooked for him and waited on his simple necessities, but +since his niece had arrived at the Vicarage and there was consequently +more work, Howlie had been brought in to help domestic matters +forward. He carried coals, pumped water, cleaned knives, and, had it +been possible to teach him the rudiments of good manners, would have +been a really valuable member of the household. + +But those who associated with him had either to take him as they found +him or to leave him altogether. Isoline would have preferred to do the +latter, for there was in her an antagonism to the boy which had begun +the moment she climbed into her uncle's crazy vehicle on the Brecon +road. She detested boys of every sort, and this one was decidedly the +most horrible specimen of that generation of vipers she had ever come +across. + +Howlie Seaborne had never before been at close quarters with a young +lady, the nearest approach to the species having been those little +village girls whose hair he had pulled, and upon whom he had sprung +out from dark corners by way of showing his lofty contempt, ever since +he could remember. Miss Ridgeway interested him a great deal, and +after the few days of close observation which it had taken him to find +her a place in his experience, he persisted in regarding her with the +indulgence due to a purely comic character. + +"There be a gentleman down below," he remarked, when he had finished +snorting. + +"A gentleman? What gentleman?" + +"Moy! Just about as smart as a lord. Oi know 'im too. 'Im as was +general o' the soldjers the noight they was foightin' Rebecca. Oi +moind 'im, for 'e shook me crewel 'ard by the shoulder." He rubbed the +ill-used part. + +Isoline shut the door in his face with a bang. The sudden draught put +out the candle, and she was obliged to light it again to make the +additional survey of her face which the situation below-stairs +demanded. She took a hand-glass from the drawer, and assured herself +that every view of it was satisfactory; then she hurried down the +wooden staircase which creaked under her foot, and stood a moment with +beating heart to collect herself at the door of her uncle's study. + +Mr. Lewis was standing by the round table in the middle of the room, +and before him, with his hand on the mantelpiece, was Harry Fenton. +The younger man had one foot on the fender, and from his boots went up +a lively steam which showed that he had ridden over some heavy bits of +ground; his spurs, too, were coated with mud, and he seemed to be +appreciating the blaze that leaped gallantly in the chimney. He wore a +long cloth coat, which made him look about twice his natural size. + +"Mr. Fenton has come over from Waterchurch on business," said Mr. +Lewis, turning to her as she entered, "and I am sorry to say that his +horse has cast a shoe on the way, and it has delayed his arrival till +now. But I have persuaded him to stay here for the night, which is +very pleasant." + +"It is most kind of you, sir," interrupted Harry. + +"My dear boy," exclaimed the Vicar, "it is impossible to think of +taking the road again at such an hour, and with such a distance before +you as Waterchurch. I am sorry," he went on, taking up a knitted +comforter and beginning to put it round his neck, "that I have just +been urgently sent for by a parishioner, and shall have to leave you +for an hour, but my niece will see that all is made ready for you. +Isoline, my dear, I will trust to you to look after Mr. Fenton till I +come back." + +Harry had started from his home that morning with a couple of +instruments in his pockets not generally carried about by riders. They +bulged rather inside his coat, and he took great care, as he mounted, +that Llewellyn, who was leaning against the stable-wall watching him +depart, should not see them; they were a smith's buffer and a +small-sized pair of pincers for drawing nails out of horses' shoes. + +His father, with some other county men, was bestirring himself about +the putting-up of a stone at Crishowell to the toll-keeper, and had +remarked at breakfast that he wanted to consult Mr. Lewis about the +inscription. Harry pricked up his ears. + +"I suppose I shall have to write another couple of sheets," growled +the Squire. "Really, with all the writing I have had to do of late, I +am beginning to curse the inventor of the alphabet." + +"Can't I help you, sir?" inquired Llewellyn. "I have nothing +particular to do this morning." + +"Nothing particular to do! What is the use of my keeping an agent, I +should like to know, who has 'nothing particular to do'? Eh, sir?" + +Llewellyn held his peace. + +"I can go to Crishowell, and give your message; I was thinking of +riding out that way in any case," said Harry boldly. + +The Squire had forgotten the existence of Isoline Ridgeway a couple of +days after the ball, and he really wanted to get the business of the +gravestone settled. "Very well," he assented, rather mollified, most +of his wrath having evaporated upon his youngest son, "but you will +have to start soon if you mean to get home again before dark. The +roads are pretty bad in this thaw." + +So Harry had departed, nothing loth, and Llewellyn again held his +peace, though he thought a good deal. He had not forgotten Isoline, +but he had sense enough to know how useless speech can be. + +The roads were no better than the old Squire had supposed, +nevertheless Harry did not seem inclined to get over them very +quickly, for he did not once let his horse go out of a sober walk. He +had delayed his start till after mid-day in spite of his father's +advice, so by the time he reached a secluded bit of lane about +half-a-mile from Crishowell village, the afternoon light was wearing +itself out beyond the fields and coppices lying westward. Here he +dismounted, and leading the animal into a clump of bushes, he took the +buffer out of his pocket and began to cut the clinches out of the shoe +on the near fore. Then he wrenched it gradually off with the pincers. +When this was done, he drew the reins over his arm and tramped +sturdily through the mud, carrying it in his hand. In this plight he +arrived at the Vicar of Crishowell's door. + +When the sound of her uncle's steps had died away down the flagged +path that led through the garden, and Isoline had ordered the spare +room to be made ready for the guest, she and Harry drew their chairs +up to the hearth. + +"You see, I have come as I said I should," he remarked, contemplating +the pattern of the hearthrug; "are you glad to see me, Miss Ridgeway?" + +"Oh, yes," she replied truthfully. + +"Shall I tell you a secret?" said the young man, wearing an expression +of great guile. "When the shoe came off I was rather pleased, for I +ventured to hope that Mr. Lewis might let me stay to supper while it +was being put on. I never expected such luck as being asked to stay +the night." + +"It would be dreadfully lonely to ride back to Waterchurch Court in +the dark. _I_ should not like it, I know; I suppose gentlemen do not +mind these things." + +"I prefer sitting here with you, certainly," answered Harry, looking +into the coals. + +"What do you see in the fire?" she asked presently. "Are you looking +for pictures in it? I often do." + +"I think I see--you." + +"That is not very flattering," said Isoline, seeing a compliment +floating on the horizon, a little compliment, no bigger than a man's +thought, but capable of being worked up into something. "Coals are +ugly things, I think, don't you?" + +"No, I don't, or I should not have looked for you among them." + +She sat quite still in her chair, hoping there was more to follow, but +she was disappointed. + +"How do you amuse yourself here?" Harry inquired, after a pause. + +"There is nothing to amuse me," she replied in her most sophisticated +manner. "This is a dull little place for any one who has seen anything +of society. It is dreadful never to be able to speak to a lady or +gentleman." + +"But there's your uncle; my mother always says that Mr. Lewis is the +finest gentleman she knows." + +This was a new idea, and the girl opened her eyes. "Oh, but he is only +an old man," she rejoined. + +"What an age it seems since the ball," he said, sighing. "I wish there +was another coming." + +"So do I." + +"When you had gone I found something of yours--something that I shall +not give you back unless you insist upon it." + +"Something of mine? I do not remember losing anything." + +He took a small pocket-book from his coat, and turned over the leaves +until he came to a little crushed blue object lying between them. + +"Do you know this?" he asked, holding out the book. + +She took it with all the pleasure a woman feels in handling the +possessions of a man in whom she is interested. + +"Ah, yes, that is mine," she exclaimed, flushing as she recognized the +flower. + +"It was," said Harry, "but it is mine now." + +"Well, really!" + +"But may I keep it?" + +She turned away her head. "You are very foolish, Mr. Fenton." + +"I do not mind that." + +Isoline took the forget-me-not up between her finger and thumb and +twirled it round; then she leaned forward, holding it out above the +flame, and looking over her shoulder at her companion. + +"Shall I drop it into the fire?" she asked, with a half-smile. + +The young man sprang up. "No! no!" he cried, "surely you won't do +that! Oh! how very unkind of you!" + +She laughed outright. "Well, take it then," she said, tossing it to +him. + +He replaced it hastily, and put the book back in the pocket of his +coat. + +"You are afraid I shall change my mind," said Isoline. + +"Yes, I am." + +She looked at him very softly. "But I shall not," she said. + +At this moment the door opened, and Howlie Seaborne came in carrying +an armful of wood which he cast unceremoniously into a corner; when he +had done this he addressed Harry. "Shall oi give yew one o' Parson's +noightshirts?" he inquired, stopping a few paces from him and shouting +as though a precipice lay between them. + +"What?" said Harry, unable to assimilate his thoughts to the +suddenness of the question. + +"Be oi to give yew one o' Parson's noightshirts? The cook do say +yew're to sleep here, an' yew haven't got one roidin' along o' yew, +have yew?" + +"Oh, yes, do," replied the young man, smiling, "if Mr. Lewis does not +mind." + +"Howell," said Isoline with a face of horror, "go away at once, and do +not come back unless you are sent for. He is a dreadful creature," she +said, as the door closed behind him. "I cannot think how my uncle can +employ such an odious boy." + +"But he is very amusing." + +"Oh, I do not think so." + +"Surely I know him," continued Harry. "Isn't he the boy who ran to +Llangarth on the night of the riot and brought us the news at the Bull +Inn? Of course! He must have something in him or he would not have +done that. I must talk to him after." + +"You had better not," said she. "He is sure to say something rude." + +"I suppose no one has ever heard anything more about Walters," said +he; "I hear they have almost given up searching for him. What does +your uncle think about it, I wonder?" + +"He says he must be half-way to Australia by this time." + +"I am afraid he is right," said Harry, the wound Rhys had dealt his +vanity smarting, as it always did, at the sound of his name. + +"I do believe, if you had three wishes given you, like the people in +story-books, one of them would be to catch that man." + +"Certainly it would." + +"Oh, but there is no use in wishing," said Isoline, shaking her head +and feeling quite original. + +"Sometimes there is," said Harry, looking at her. "I wished at the +ball to be introduced to you, and I was, you see." + +"Yes, but if you had wished and done nothing else, it would not have +happened," she observed, feeling more original still. + +"That is quite true, but, in your case, I was able to do something; I +did everything I could in this one, and it was no use. Heavens! how I +galloped up those lanes--just a few fields off behind this house too." + +The dark had closed in by this time and the dull flash of the Vicar's +lantern could be seen as he passed the window; he came into the study +and stood warming his cold hands at the blaze. Harry rose +deferentially. + +"Do not move," said the old man, pushing him back into his seat. "In a +few minutes we will go into the other room and you shall explain your +father's business to me. It will not interest you, my dear, so you +will excuse us," he added, with a courtesy which was enhanced by his +grey hair. + +When they had left her, Isoline remained with her toes upon the fender +in a brown study. She also was looking at pictures in the fire, but, +whereas Fenton saw people, she only saw things. + +Harry never enjoyed a meal much more than the supper he partook of +that evening, though Isoline suffered many pangs as she cast her eyes +over the plain fare before them; it must look so mean, she reflected, +after the superior glories of the establishment presided over by Lady +Harriet Fenton. She saw with satisfaction, however, that the guest ate +heartily, and, with slight surprise, that he seemed to like her +uncle's company. + +That the refinement of atmosphere surrounding one elderly person might +blind the eyes to a darned tablecloth was one of those things the +society to which she was fond of alluding had not taught her. That the +glamour of a lovely face might turn the attention away from it, she +had allowed herself to hope. + +When the table was cleared and the large Prayer-book placed where the +mince and poached eggs had stood, the cook and Howlie Seaborne, who +was kept on till bed-time to look after Harry, came in and took their +seats in the background. Isoline glanced flippantly across the room at +the young man to see whether the homely ceremony would bring a smile +to his lips. He caught her look, but the grave simplicity on his face +made her avert her eyes and pretend that she had been examining the +clock which stood behind him. + +As she lay in bed that night thinking over the unlooked-for event of +the afternoon, she admitted to herself that he was a much more +puzzling person than she had supposed. When he left next morning two +pairs of eyes followed him as he disappeared behind the church; one +pair belonged to Miss Ridgeway, who was smiling at him from a window, +and one to Howlie, who had, for the first time in his life, received a +real shock. The shock was a pleasant one, for it had been occasioned +by the silver half-crown which lay in his palm. + +Llewellyn was the only person in the Waterchurch household who did not +accept the episode of the cast shoe without misgiving, for Harry's +non-appearance had produced no surprise, the roads being bad and the +Vicar of Crishowell hospitable. His vague dislike to Isoline Ridgeway +had lately grown more positive, for a little rift had sprung between +the two brothers since she had brought her disturbing presence across +their way, and the fact that it was there proved to the younger one +how great an influence he had over Harry's thoughts. She was the first +person who had ever thrust herself through the strong web of +friendship which had held them for so many years. They had not +exchanged a word about her since they had parted from her at the toll, +which was in itself significant, but they knew each other too well to +need words. There is no friend so close as the friend to whom one does +not tell everything. + +Llewellyn had a cooler head than Harry and a finer insight into +people, and the want of breeding in Miss Ridgeway was as plain to him +as possible. If she had been vulgarly pretty, with a strident voice +and loud manner, he might even have disliked her less, but, as it was, +he knew that her soul was vulgar, not her exterior; unlike most +people, he could distinguish between the two. It was no jealousy of a +possible wife who would take the first place in his brother's mind +which possessed him, for he had always foreseen the day when Harry +would marry, and he himself have to take a modest place in the +background, and he meant to do it gracefully. But not for Isoline, nor +for one like her; that was beyond him. He cut savagely with the stick +he carried at the things in the hedge. + +The two young men had avoided each other all day, talking with almost +boisterous cheerfulness when a third person was present, and finding +urgent occupation in different directions the moment they were left +alone. And now, as Llewellyn rounded a corner of the gardener's +cottage, they came face to face. An insane desire for action took him. + +"For God's sake don't avoid me, Harry," he exclaimed, running his arm +through his brother's. Harry turned red. + +"I'm not avoiding you, Loo, but I don't know what is the matter with +you to-day. Is there anything wrong?" + +Llewellyn hated fencing. + +"I wish you wouldn't go to Crishowell, Harry." + +The elder flared up like a match held over a lamp-chimney. + +"Why shouldn't I go, if I choose? What the devil has it got to do with +you? Am I to get permission before I take my father's messages?--'Yes, +sir, I will go if I can, but I must ask Llewellyn first.'--That would +be splendid, wouldn't it? Because I always forgot you were my younger +brother, you've forgotten it too. It's my fault, I know!" + +Llewellyn dropped his arm as though the words had made it red-hot. His +pride in Harry's affection had always been so great that they were +like a blow, and he had not the faintest consciousness of superiority +to his brother to dull their effect. + +"That's true," he said, with a quietness so false that it sobered +Harry, "but it need never trouble you again--it can't, for nothing +will ever be the same now." + +And he opened the door of the kitchen-garden, and was through it and +was hurrying along between the box-borders before the other had +realized what had happened. + +He stood for a moment looking after his brother, and then rushed to +the door, knowing that every instant that kept them apart would widen +the gulf that had opened between them. But it had slammed to, and, as +there was something wrong with the latch, it had the habit of sticking +tight and refusing to move when roughly handled. His pull had no more +effect upon it than if it had been locked, and he tore and shook at +the stubborn thing, feeling like a person in a nightmare whom +inanimate objects conspire together to undo. Seeing that his fight +with the latch was useless, he set off running round the garden wall +to the entrance at its opposite end; it was open when he reached it, +for Llewellyn had come through and was standing by a bed of Christmas +roses whose draggled petals had evidently not recovered from the +recent thaw. + +"Loo! Loo! don't go!" he cried as he saw him turn away. "Oh, +Llewellyn! I didn't mean that, I didn't mean it!" + +The younger brother's face was white, and he looked dumbly at the +other. + +"What a cur I am!" cried Harry, seizing his hand. "Don't stare at me, +Llewellyn--say something, for Heaven's sake!" + +"I should not have spoken," said Llewellyn hoarsely. + +"Say anything you like--anything, only forgive me! forgive me!" cried +generous Harry. + +Llewellyn's hand, which had lain passive in his brother's, began to +tighten. "Don't, Harry," he said. "It's all right. I will never say +anything about it again. I had no right to interfere." + +"But that's worse. It is terrible to think we can't talk to each +other. Just say out what you think, Loo, and I'll listen; I haven't +been able to speak a word to you of late, but I wish we could have it +out now." + +They were walking down the laurel shrubbery leading from the garden to +the home farm, Llewellyn's chief anxiety and the Squire's dearest toy. +The old wall which ran outside it smelt damp, a background of sodden +red to the rank, shining leaves. A cock robin, whose figure had filled +out considerably since the thaw, was sending forth his shrill, cold +voice in recognition of this crowning mercy. The breath of rotting +chrysanthemums came from the beds by the tool-house. + +"How much do you really care for her?" asked Llewellyn after a pause. + +"A lot!" + +"But how much? More than Laura? More than Kitty Foster?" + +"Oh, Laura! that was nothing. And Kitty Foster, that was different +too." + +"But you were half mad about her once. Don't you remember when she +went away, what a state you were in and how you raged?" + +"Ah, I was younger then," replied Harry, with all the wisdom of his +twenty-five years strong upon him. + +"Is it because she is so pretty that you like Miss Ridgeway?" asked +Llewellyn. + +"That and heaps of other things." + +"Do you think she likes you?" + +"Yes, I am nearly sure of it." + +"Well, then, I'm not," said his brother shortly. + +"But, my good man, how can you tell?" exclaimed Harry, rather nettled. + +"She does not care for anything--at least, for nothing but herself." + +Harry was on the verge of flying out again, but he remembered the +latch of the garden-door, and refrained. + +"I know you are mistaken," he said, "you can't think how glad she was +to see me yesterday." + +"I don't doubt that," replied the other dryly. + +"But why do you doubt her liking me? I am not such a brute that no +girl could look at me; I dare say I am no beauty, but, after all, I am +neither lame nor a fright, nor hump-backed, nor crooked, nor +squint-eyed, am I?" + +Llewellyn laughed outright. "Hardly. But she's a nobody, and you're +somebody, d'you see, Harry." + +"I did not know you cared about those sort of things," remarked his +brother scornfully. + +"I'm not sure that I should if she were the right kind of girl. But +I'm sure she isn't. She thinks it would be a fine thing to be Mrs. +Fenton, and I have no doubt she fancies you have lots of money, +because you look smart and all that--she doesn't understand how +hard-up we are. I could guess that she was thinking about it that day +on the coach." + +Harry was rather impressed. + +"Of course it's a grand thing for her having you dangling about; girls +like that sort of thing, I know. But I wouldn't if I were you." + +"One can't look at any one else when she's there," sighed the other. + +"Then don't go there. I wish you could keep away from that place for a +little bit, then you might forget her. And if you couldn't," added the +astute Llewellyn, "after all, she will be there for ever so long and +you will have plenty of chances of going to Hereford when she returns +to her aunt. Try, Harry." + +The younger brother's influence had always been so strong that the +elder was never entirely free from it; he had looked at things for so +many years of boyhood through Llewellyn's eyes, that he had never +quite lost the habit, though the separation which manhood brought them +had weakened it a little. + +"Well, I shan't have any pretext for going to Crishowell for some +time," he said slowly. "You've made me rather miserable." + +Llewellyn said no more, but he felt that he had gained something. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE BEGINNING + +GEORGE WILLIAMS' education had been a very elementary and spasmodic +thing. In days of comparative prosperity, when he was a small boy, he +had learned to read and write and add up a little, but his mother's +widowhood had sent him out to field-work at an age when the village +urchins of the present day are still wrestling with the fourth +"standard." + +That most irksome of all tools, the pen, was lying before him on the +box which served as a table, and he stared sorrowfully at it and the +cheap ink-pot beside it; now and then he took himself sternly by the +front hair as though to compel his brain to come to the assistance of +his hand. + +The cottage was very quiet, and the door stood open to let in what +remained of the afternoon light. Below Rhys, who had spent the whole +of the preceding night out of doors, was making up for lost sleep upon +his pile of sheepskins, for, since his recovery, Williams' bedding had +been restored to its rightful place. The brook gurgled outside. He +shoved the paper away impatiently and sat back in his chair. All his +efforts had only resulted in two words which faced him on the +otherwise blank sheet. He laid his unlighted pipe down on them, for he +heard Rhys' footsteps upon the ladder below the flooring, and he did +not want him to see what he had written. The two words were "Dere +Mary." + +The composition of this letter had hung over him for some days, for, +besides his poor scholarship, he was one of those people whose powers +of expression are quite inadequate to their need of expressing. He +knew this very well, and it depressed him a good deal. He had made up +his mind to ask Mary Vaughan to be his wife. + +It is doubtful whether five people out of every ten who contemplate +marrying do so from devotion pure and absolute, so in this George was +no worse than many of his neighbours. He certainly was not in love +with Mary, for he could hardly tell whether he would be glad or sorry +if she refused him, but he was inclined to think, sorry. His main +reason, which swallowed up any other, was pity--pity and the longing +to protect a stricken creature. The type of theorist perfect in all +points except discrimination in human nature would have smiled +deprecatingly and assured him that he was a fool, that what had +happened once must inevitably happen twice, and that he would be like +the man in Æsop's fable who had warmed a frozen viper on his hearth +and been bitten for his pains. But he knew better. That Mary was not a +light woman he could see easily--so easily indeed that he had never +given the matter the consideration of a moment. He merely knew it. +Also there lurked in him an odd feeling which one might almost call an +economical one; they had both made a terrible muddle of their lives +and gone the wrong ways to their own undoing, and if they could but +convert their two mistakes into one success, it would be a distinct +gain. He was a lonely man too, and the presence of a young and comely +woman in his home would be very pleasant to him. He wondered whether +she liked him much--he did not for an instant fancy that she loved +him, for he knew that her heart was dead inside her, and he was quite +unconscious that one thing that drew him to her was his complete +understanding of her. It is a kindness we do when we really understand +another human being--given a not ignoble one--and the doing of a +kindness produces affection more surely than the receiving of one. The +chief drawback to his plan was his bondage to the Pig-driver, for +until that was over he could not marry; but he was putting by little +sums earned with his hedging and ditching and other journeyman work, +and on these he hoped they might start their married life when he had +served his time with Bumpett. Could he make money enough to pay his +debts to his taskmaster he would break with him at once, knowing that +the old man in exposing his thefts would have to expose his own also. +But his earnings were so small that all these were only forlorn hopes. + +Rhys came up through the trap-door under the sacks. As he appeared in +the doorway of the partition George saw that he had a stick in his +hand. + +"You're not thinking to go out, surely?" he remarked. + +"I am," was the short reply. + +"But the light's not gone yet; you'll be collared one of these days," +said Williams, more as a sop to his own conscience than from any +interest. + +"If I don't care, you needn't." + +"I don't--not a damn," replied Williams; "you can get clapped into +prison any day you like." + +Walters left the house in so reckless a humour that he scarce bestowed +a precautionary glance on his surroundings when he crossed the plank, +and as the old cart-road led only to the most carefully avoided place +within, possibly, a hundred miles, he was the less inclined to thwart +his mood. Though the dusk had barely begun to confuse distant +outlines, he strolled carelessly up the hillside, his mind full of +irritated contempt for George. It was hard to him that a man of his +intelligence and standing should have to tolerate the society of a +clown, one whose sole merit of brute strength was unillumined by any +ray of good feeling or geniality. When he arrived at the bit of +scrubby ground by the Pedlar's Stone, he turned and looked down the +track he had ascended towards the valley. + +On either side lay the slope, unbroken except by ragged bushes and +briers; out of one of these which clothed a bank stuck the Pedlar's +Stone. It looked sinister enough thrusting its black form through the +thorns. A little way beyond was the rock under which the Pig-driver +had made so snug a larder, and two or three slabs not unlike it were +scattered round. He sat down upon one of them; there were limits to +his imprudence, and he did not mean to venture farther away until the +light had completely gone. Night outside had of late become as +familiar to him as day, the sleeping world as important as the waking +one; he felt almost like a man endued with an extra sense, for that +half of life which for the healthy sleepers of the earth is simply cut +out, was a living reality to him. The gulf of oblivion which divides +one day from another for most people was ceasing to exist, and in its +place was a time with its own aspects and divisions, its own set of +active living creatures whose spheres of work belonged properly to the +darkness and stillness. He had a feeling of double life. Eastern +ascetics whose existences are spent in lonely places, in vigils, in +silence, in the fastnesses of strange hills, know this. To the Western +mind, so curiously incapable of understanding anything which does not +assail it through its body, and which has such a strange pride in its +own limitations, such things are folly. But the double life is there, +the pulsations of knowledge which can be dimly heard through that +receptiveness of mind born of long silence, and though Rhys knew it as +little as do most of his nation, he had a dim consciousness of change. +That the quietness of night soothed him was all he understood or ever +would understand; he longed for it to come as he sat looking over the +fading landscape. And it was coming--coming as surely as that other +influence of which he did not dream, but which even then stood behind +him. + +A sound aroused him; he turned with dismay and saw that he was not +alone. He sprang up and found himself face to face with a woman. A +glance showed him that she was a stranger, and though he was dismayed +at the consequences of his rashness, it was reassuring to see from her +manner that she was entirely occupied with her own affairs. + +"I beg your pardon," she began, "I am sorry to interrupt you, but I am +in trouble. I have wandered about for I cannot tell how long--hours, I +think--and I have lost myself. I am _so_ tired." There was almost a +sob in her voice as she sank upon the stone on which Rhys had been +sitting. "I beg of you, sir, to show me the way back to Crishowell." + +She was stooping down and holding her ankle in her hand as though it +hurt her; her boots were thin and cut in places, and the mud had +almost turned them from their original black to brown. She was +evidently young, though her thick veil hid her features, and her +clothes were absurdly unsuited to her surroundings. + +"Oh, my foot!" she exclaimed, "I have hurt my foot. Something ran into +it as I came through those bushes." + +Rhys looked down. + +"It is bleeding," he said, noticing a reddish spot which was soaking +through the mud. "Your boots are not strong enough for such places." + +"I did not mean to come up here. I went for a walk from my uncle's +house in Crishowell. I only intended to go a little distance up the +hill, but I could not find my way back, and there was no one to direct +me after I had passed the village. Does nobody live about here?" + +"Not near here, certainly," he replied. + +"And how far do you think I am from Crishowell?" + +"About three miles." + +"Three miles!" exclaimed the girl, hardly restraining her tears. "How +can I ever get home? And with this foot, too." + +"Perhaps a thorn has gone into it," he suggested. "If you will take +off your boot I'll look and see what is wrong." + +She bent down and began to unfasten it. Rhys looked anxiously about +them and saw with satisfaction that the dusk had increased and would +soon have fallen completely. He knelt down in front of her, and she +straightened herself wearily, glad for her gloved fingers to escape +the mud. When he pulled off the boot she gave a little cry of pain, +and he looked up at her. She had put back her veil, and for the first +time he saw her face. A look of admiration came into his own. She read +the expression behind his eyes as she might have read the story in a +picture, and it affected her like a draught of wine. Her fatigue was +almost forgotten; she only felt that she was confronted by one of the +most attractive and uncommon-looking of men, and that he admired her. + +"Can you see anything in my foot?" she inquired, lowering her eyes. + +He examined it carefully. + +"There's a very long thick thorn; it has run in nearly half-an-inch. +I'm likely to hurt you pulling it out, but out it must come." + +"Very well," she said. + +He took out his knife. + +"Oh, what are you going to do?" she cried in alarm. + +"There's a small pair of pincers in it. It will be best to use that." + +Isoline shut her eyes and drew her breath quickly; as the thorn came +out she shuddered and put out her hand. + +"I am afraid you must think me a great coward," she faltered. "You +would not behave like that, I am sure." + +"I am not so delicate as you. You ought never to trust yourself in +these rough places alone." + +"And now I have all these three miles to go alone in the dark, and I +am so afraid. I may meet cows or animals of some kind. Look how dark +it has become." + +"If you will rest a little I will go with you part of the way. I can't +come as far as Crishowell, but I'll take you till we can see a +farm-house where they'll give you a lantern and a man to carry it +before you to the village." + +"Oh, thank you. How very kind you are." + +He laughed. "Am I?" he said. "'Tis a mighty disagreeable piece of +business for me, isn't it?" + +There are many ways of conveying admiration, and Rhys' voice was +expressive. + +Isoline was engaged with her boot, and he sat down beside her on the +rock. It was almost dark. + +Like all who saw Rhys Walters for the first time she was considerably +puzzled to know who and what he might be, and his surroundings gave no +clue to his position. His clothes were good, being his own, for though +Bumpett had counselled him to borrow from George, he would never +condescend to wear anything belonging to him. He spoke well when he +gave himself the trouble, and Isoline, who was not as discriminating +as she might have been, admired his assurance. + +Since the young man had been in hiding he had heard little of what was +going on in the neighbourhood, George being uncommunicative, and it +was only occasionally that he saw the Pig-driver. His beautiful +companion puzzled him as much as he puzzled her, for he knew that, had +he seen her face before, he could never have forgotten it. + +His safety now lay in the possibility of her not describing him to any +one, and he would have to secure her promise of silence, a precarious +barrier indeed between him and detection. It had been the thousand +chances to one against his meeting any one at that hour and place, but +the one chance had turned up and confounded him. He was running +perilously near the rocks. + +"I think I ought to be starting for home," said Isoline's voice at +his side after some time. "I am rested, and my foot is hardly painful +since you have taken the thorn out. You have been very kind to me," +she added softly. + +"Well, be grateful to me." + +"Oh, I am indeed." + +"Then stay a little longer to show it," he said boldly, "it's such a +treat to look at a face like yours." + +"Why, you cannot see me in this darkness," replied Isoline, tossing +her head, but apparently regarding his remark as perfectly natural. + +"But I know you are there, and when you are gone, who can tell when I +shall see you again? You don't know how terribly I'd like to." + +There was real feeling in his voice. + +She was rather taken aback. "Who are you?" she said suddenly. + +"If you will tell me your name I will tell you mine." + +"I am Miss Isoline Ridge way, and my uncle is Mr. Lewis, the Vicar of +Crishowell." + +"I don't know him," said Rhys. "I am a stranger." + +"You have not told me who you are," said the girl, after a silence in +which he was preparing his answer. + +"I'm called Kent--Robert Kent," he replied, giving the name of a boy +who had been at school with him. + +"That sounds very romantic," observed Isoline; "like an outlaw or a +murderer in a tale." + +Rhys winced in the darkness. + +"I must go now," she said, rising. "You will come with me?" + +"That I will--as far as I can. Tell me, am I never to see you any +more?" + +"I am sure I don't know," she replied, turning away. + +"Would you ever care to set eyes on me again?" He took her hand, and +she did not draw it away from him. + +"Yes, I think I should." + +"Then promise never to tell any one I met you here." + +"Oh, I will not say anything." + +"It's a promise, then. Give me your two hands on it." + +She held out the other, and he kissed them both. + +"Will you come back here some day soon?" he asked, almost in a +whisper. + +"Oh, I couldn't. And I should never find my way." + +"You could if I told you how to. You could ask for the farm I am going +to take you to, and then 'twould be only a little bit further; and +none can see you these dark evenings." + +"I must go," she said; "don't ask me such things." + +The night was, by this time, lying on the hillsides like a black +cloth, and they crossed the rough turf, Isoline tripping and knocking +her unaccustomed feet against the stones. A thrill went through Rhys +as she took his arm at his suggestion; she could feel his heart +beating against her hand. It was very interesting, she thought, and +she hardly regretted having lost herself, though she had been +frightened enough at the time. + +They walked along the high ground until the lighted windows of a farm +were visible on a slope below them, and then began to descend; at the +outer side of a wall they stopped. "I can't come any further," he +said, "but I'll help you over this. There's the house, straight in +front of us. Tell them you've missed your road, and ask them to send a +man with a light." + +He took her by the waist, and lifted her on to the top of the wall, +then swung himself over and stood before her on the inside of the +enclosure. "If you come back," he said, "and keep straight on above +this along the hillside, you'll get to the place where I met you +to-night. Do you see?" + +She made no answer. She would not slip down from her seat for fear of +falling into his arms. + +"I shall wait there every evening at dusk," said Rhys, looking up at +her through the blackness. + +"Let me go, please let me go!" + +He put up his arms and lifted her down. + +"Good-bye," she said. + +"But you will think of it," he begged, detaining her. + +She shook herself free and flitted like a shadow into the night. The +word "Perhaps" floated back to him through the dark. + +He stood for some time looking at the twinkling light of the farm; +soon a large steady one emerged from it, moving forward slowly, and he +guessed that Isoline's lantern-bearer was piloting her home. The light +wound along, leaving a shine behind it, against which he could see the +dark outline of some moving thing, turned, wavered at the place where +he knew there was a gate, and finally disappeared. He climbed to the +high ground and set his face in the direction of the Pedlar's Stone. +Though pitch dark, it was still early, which made him anxious to get +back to the shelter of its ill-omened presence, for his feeling of +security had been shaken. + +In spite of this he went along with the tread of a man who is light of +heart, his head full of the fascinating personality whose existence +had been unknown to him a few hours before, but whose appearing had +let loose a whole flock of new possibilities. He thought of her voice, +of her little slender feet, of the brilliant face that had dawned upon +him through the dusk with the turning back of her veil, of her pretty +gesture of terror as she saw him draw out his knife; he went over in +his mind each word she had said to him since the instant he had sprung +up from the rock and found her standing behind him. Even her very name +was a revelation of delicacy and ornament; +Isoline--Isoline--Isoline--he said it over to himself again and again; +it was to the Janes and Annes of his experience as a hothouse flower +is to cottage herbs, a nightingale's song to the homely chatter of +starlings, a floating breath from the refinements which exist apart +from the rough utilities of the world. He sighed impatiently as +another face thrust itself between him and his new ideal. To think +that he had ever supposed himself dominated by it! Mary's eyes had +once illumined him, Mary's personality held his senses and feelings, +but he laughed at himself for his blindness in having picked up a +wayside pebble and imagined it a jewel. + +Rhys had a certain amount of imagination, and femininity in one shape +or another had been a necessity to him all his life; part of the +repulsion he had often felt for his mother was due to the systematic +way in which she had divested herself of every shred of feminine +attraction in domestic life. This had not come to her as the result of +Puritanic sympathies. Before religion had taken hold upon her the +romance of all womanhood, of love, of marriage, of motherhood, had +been an offence. She approved of people who led happy married lives, +but it was an approval of the conventionality of the relationship; +that the husband should remain the lover, the wife the mistress, was +an idea to be dismissed with scorn. Marriage was a duty, and woman's +personal attraction a quality to be reduced to the level of handsome +domestic furniture, a credit to the home which contained it. That a +married man and woman of more than a year's standing should be in love +with each other was more than an absurdity, it was almost an +indecency. Since he had been able to think at all, Rhys had dimly felt +this, for it is a frame of mind of whose existence in a woman no +masculine human being is ever quite unconscious. When he had grown old +enough to understand it, it had given him a violent push in the +opposite direction, and set his adolescent brain in a flame. + +It was so dark when he reached the Pedlar's Stone that he had to grope +about among the bushes to find it, and he traced his way from it with +difficulty to the rock on which he and Isoline had sat. He would come +there the next evening and the evening after--every day until the +early rising moon should make it impossible. He began to reckon up the +calendar on his fingers, trying to make out how many light nights +there would be in the following month; February had begun, and the +days were lengthening slowly, but by the middle of March there would +be no more chances of meeting. Though she had only said "Perhaps," his +hopes were rampant, for he had not been accustomed to neglect where +women were concerned. He did not undervalue the risk he was running by +putting himself in the power of a girl's idle tongue, yet he never +hesitated; he was like the miner who will not be deterred from +lighting his pipe in the danger-laden atmosphere of the mine. He was a +cautious man in ordinary things; it had taken him some time to make up +his mind to join Rebecca, and, when he had done so, he had arranged an +elaborate scheme for his own security instead of trusting to luck with +his companions. But the life of successful hiding which he now lived +was making him reckless, and where a woman was in the question he had +always been ready to throw common-sense to the winds. He did not +trouble himself to think what the end of this unexpected interest +might be; in any case it would put a zest into the constrained life he +led just as sheep-stealing had done. Would she forget him or refuse to +return to the Pedlar's Stone? That was the only anxiety he had, but it +was a very half-hearted one, for he felt sure she would not. A future +of pleasant dallying lay indefinitely before him, he hoped, with the +prospect of a voyage, when the Pig-driver should assure him that all +was quiet, and a new life begun in a new country. + +His regret for Mary had vanished utterly. As he had been to Crishowell +church once or twice, he knew Mr. Lewis perfectly by sight, and the +irony of things made him smile as he realized that, in his own former +respectable personality of Mr. Walters of Great Masterhouse, he could +never have hoped to speak to the Vicar's lovely niece. He was a +farmer, he reflected, she a lady, not knowing that no circumstances in +this world could have made Isoline Ridgeway a gentlewoman. It pleased +him to find that, as he had slipped from his original and obvious +surroundings, she had evidently taken him for a man of her own class. +His feeling of exhilaration made him wish for some one to whom he +might pour out the praises of Isoline; in presence of a companion the +thought of her would have loosened his tongue like wine mounting to +his brain. He longed to shout, to cry her beauty aloud, to flaunt it +and her condescension to him in the faces of other men, but there was +no one he could speak to except a dull yokel, to whom the very name of +love would convey nothing but the most ordinary instincts. It was +hard; but he felt that, in spite of all his misfortunes, he was in the +better case of the two. He could at least appreciate the high +pleasures open to humanity, for his soul was not bounded by the petty +fence of commonplace which enclosed George and shut out his view of +life's loftier things. + +He comforted himself with that; yet, as he sat on the rock, his mind +filled with the radiance left by Isoline, the picture of the +sheep-stealer's unemotional face, set in the ugly framing of the +cottage walls, seemed to him like the shadow of some sordid implement +of labour against a moonlit landscape. + +One must pay for everything in this world; even high-mindedness costs +its owner something. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +IN WHICH GEORGE PROVES TO BE BUT HUMAN + +THE letter which had presented such difficulties to George was +finished at last, and while Rhys was sitting with Isoline upon the +rock, he was trudging down to Crishowell with it in his pocket. At the +village he captured a stray urchin to whom he confided it, promising +him a penny, which was to be paid on the following day at twelve +o'clock; the boy was to go to the blacksmith's shop, where his patron +would await the expected answer. He did not tell him to bring it to +the cottage, as, since Rhys' arrival, he had strongly discouraged all +visitors. + + +"Dere Mary," he had written, "I write these few lines hopeing you wil +not take it il 'tis trewly ment. Dere Mary, wil you have me? What is +dun is dun and can't be undun so take hart. I wil be a good husband +and love you well never doute it. + "Yours trewly, + "GEORGE WILLIAMS." + + +When the letter reached its destination, Mary was looking out of the +diamond-paned window of the toll-house, and as she opened the door to +the boy's knock, he thrust it into her hand, telling her he would come +for the answer in the morning. She took it in, and went up with it to +the little room where she slept, for there was no light in the +kitchen. Lighting a tallow dip which stood in a tin candlestick, she +sat down, spreading the paper out in front of her; a letter was such +an unusual thing in her experience that she opened it with a sort of +misgiving. She read it to the end hurriedly, as hurriedly as her +inefficiency and the cramped handwriting would permit, but it was so +exceedingly surprising that she could hardly take it in; it lay on the +table in the circle of yellow light, a dumb, yet disturbing thing, +knocking like an unbidden guest at the closed door of her heart. It +brought the strong face of the man with the bill-hook before her, an +intruder, almost a vision of fear. + +She felt that it was incumbent upon her to feel something, but what +she could not tell, and she laughed as she folded the letter and +pushed it underneath the candlestick. When she went down again to the +kitchen where the new toll-keeper and his wife were sitting, they +looked at her with solemn curiosity, such as was due to the recipient +of a letter, but she made no allusion to it, and went up early to bed +after supper, leaving the two by the fire. + +Before putting out the light, she read George's proposal over again, +and repeated it to herself as she lay in her attic with her eyes on +the patch of starlit sky which filled the window high up in the roof. +How often she had lain there, with her little child in her arms, and +watched the handle of the Plough describing its quarter-circle on the +heavens. She remembered that and buried her face in the pillow. She +wondered whether there was any one in the world so entirely alone as +herself, and though she thought with gratitude of the couple sleeping +peacefully in the room off the kitchen below, she knew very well that +she had no place in their lives. The world--that void peopled with +strangers--confronted her, and she had no more spirit left with which +to meet it, for her arms were empty of the burden that alone had given +her courage. + +The excitement which comes upon nervous people at night in the +presence of difficulties took hold of her; one bugbear after another +pressed upon her brain, and though the attic was cold, she sat up as +the hours went by, feverish with contending thoughts, and saw the +whiteness of the letter lying on a chair under the window. + +It would be a solution to many anxieties, though hardly the one she +would have chosen; but beggars cannot be choosers, and she allowed +herself to dwell upon the idea, with the result that as it grew more +familiar, it also grew less formidable. She did not want to marry--why +could he not give her his friendship only, with no thought of any +other relationship? She needed that, and since it had been offered, +the knowledge of it had been a greater support than she could have +supposed. On first reading the letter she had lost the sense of this, +but now it came back, and George's calm personality was a soothing +thing to think about. She shut her eyes, and brought back to her mind +that terrible hour by the river, and all he had done for her. He had +gone with her to the toll-house door that day, and left her taking +with him a promise that she would never attempt her own life again. + +The restraint of the letter gave her confidence. She felt that, had he +made a declaration of love as well as an offer of marriage, she could +not have listened to it for a moment; she had had enough of love, were +it false love or true. If he married her he would be marrying her out +of pity, and she almost thought that she liked and trusted him enough +to accept the fact. Had he asked for love she could not have pretended +to give it him. But he had asked for nothing. It was like a business +proposal, so dispassionate was it. He had said, "I wil love you well +never doute it," but that gave promise of the loyal affection of a +tried companion, not the passion of a lover for the woman loved, and +it demanded nothing in return, not even gratitude, though she felt +that she could and would give him plenty of that. She would have a +home, and she did not doubt that it would be a better one than many a +woman got whose domestic relations were considered fortunate. The +quiet of the thought calmed her, and she fell asleep while she turned +over the restful possibility in her mind. + +In the morning she rose early and went down to the kitchen to light +the fire, for she had lately made a practice of this, being glad to do +anything to help the toll-keeper's wife. As she laid the wood she +thought of the letter waiting to be answered. Morning had almost +brought the decision to say "No." Everything seemed less formidable in +the daylight, and sleep had steadied her nerves and cleared away the +spectres of the darkness; it was not until she had sat down in the +attic, pen in hand, to renounce the haven held open for her that she +wavered. While she hesitated the boy knocked at the door below, and +standing at the turning-point of her way, Mary's heart failed her. + +She wanted time. In a few minutes she had got no nearer to her +decision, and the messenger waiting in the road began to kick the +doorstep impatiently. She tore the sheet of paper in half, and wrote +on the blank part of it. + + +"Dear George Williams, i dont know what to do i cant say yes nor no. i +know you are a good man and many thanks. forgive me i mean to do rite +i will send the anser to Crishowell on market day your obliged friend + "MARY VAUGHAN." + + +She had received a little education, and had taught herself a good +deal during her intimacy with Rhys, spending many evenings in attempts +to improve in reading and writing. What puzzled her most in the +present case was how to address her suitor, and, more than all, how to +subscribe herself. She wondered, as she watched the boy's back +retreating towards Crishowell, whether she had done so rightly. He was +her friend, she told herself, and she was obliged indeed. + +On market day George prepared to go down to the toll and hear his +fate. His objection to letting his messenger come to the cottage was +his reason for this, and not any excitement brought on by the +occasion. He was no hot-headed lad rushing off to his sweetheart; he +was a man with whom life had gone wrong, so wrong as to have given him +a very present determination to prevent another life from sliding down +the hill into that slough which had all but swallowed up his own. He +was struggling in it yet, and he could not hope to set his feet on +firm ground for some time to come. But when that day should arrive, +and he could begin to toil up the slope again, he meant to tow up an +extra burden with him. He felt himself strong and hard and patient, +and he liked to think that his strength and hardness and patience +might do for two. + +In spite of the absence of romance in his wooing, he determined that +no outward sign of it should be missing from his errand--he felt it to +be due to Mary. The butterfly, whose wings had been scorched by the +fires of life, should be pursued with nets and lures as though it were +the most gaudy and unattainable of winged creatures. For this reason +his best suit of working-clothes (he possessed no Sunday ones) had +been carefully brushed over-night, and his boots cleaned. He ducked +his head into the water-bucket and scrubbed it with his coarse towel, +flattening and smoothing his hair before the scrap of looking-glass +till it shone. He shaved himself with great care, and trimmed the two +inches of whisker, which made lines in front of his ears, until they +became mere shadings, and then took from some hidden lair, in which he +kept such things, a purple neckcloth with white bird's-eye spots on +it. This he tied with infinite care. As he was dusting his hat he +looked up, to see Rhys standing in the doorway of the partition; he +had been so much occupied with his dressing that he had not heard him +come up the ladder. He turned very red. Walters was smiling +contemptuously. "You're very fine this morning," he said, with his eye +resting on a patch just below George's knee, "I suppose you're going +courting." + +Williams took up the rabbit-headed stick, and for answer unlocked and +opened the door which had its key always turned as a protective +measure when there was the chance of Rhys coming up-stairs. + +Before shutting it he dropped the key into his pocket. + +"I'm taking this along with me," he remarked, "so you may just get +down below again." It was the first piece of active malice into which +the other had provoked him. + +As he went towards the village he picked a bit of holly from a bush +and stuck it into his buttonhole. It added a good deal to his festal +air, and the bright sun exhilarated him after the cold water he had +applied to himself so copiously. The stolid gloom which seemed to +surround him on ordinary days had lifted, and any one meeting him that +morning and looking at him without pleasure would have been a dullard. +He had health, strength greater than that of most men, and he was only +twenty-eight years old. And he had a face that no living thing could +doubt. + +He hit out cheerfully at the dry little oak-apples in the hedge, for +Rhys' sneer had run off him like water off the traditional duck's +back, and been swallowed in the thought of its perpetrator tied to the +underground room till his return. When generous people are goaded into +malice they get their money's worth out of the experience, and +Williams' little excursion into the devil's dominions had done him a +world of good. His prospects were no better than they had been on the +preceding night, and he was about to try and hang an additional weight +round his neck, but human nature and a spotted neckcloth will do +wonders for a man sometimes, and the sense of well-being pervaded +everything. Nevertheless, as he turned into the Brecon road, and met +the toll-people on their way to Llangarth market, his spirits waned a +little from pure fear of the matter in hand, and he stood before the +door waiting admittance, sincerely hoping that Mary might not see how +his hands shook. + +Mary had determined on the answer she would give. Through all her +wrongs and troubles she had set up a certain standard of right for +herself, and she did not mean to sink below it; whatever her +shortcoming in other ways had been, she had injured none but herself, +and on none but herself should the reckoning fall. What preserved the +strong tower of self-respect in her was that fact, and were she to +lose sight of it, the whole edifice would crumble to the earth. In the +terrors of the night, indeed, she had wavered and almost resolved to +take the home offered without more ado, but with the new strength that +comes to young lives with sunrise, she had put the idea away from her. +No one else should pay, no one else should suffer, least of all George +Williams who was her friend. She was thinking of him when she heard +his knock, and opened the door to find him standing on the other side +of it. + +He walked into the house without waiting to be invited, and shut the +door behind him. The blood tingled in his face, which was ruddy with +the morning air, and the holly in his coat made a bright spot of +colour in the room; his large frame seemed larger by contrast with the +furniture. + +"Will you please to sit down?" said she, mechanically pushing forward +the wooden chair in which her father had been used to sit. + +"Thank ye, no, I'd best stand," answered George. + +So they faced each other, the man with his back to the window. Mary +had only seen him twice before, but a very definite idea of him had +remained in her mind, and as he stood there she felt as though she +were looking at a totally different person. He was younger, smarter, +and it made her hot to think that she had leaned against his shoulder +and wept her heart out in the circle of his arm. Then, he had been +simply a protector, but now he had turned into a powerful-looking +young man in a purple neckcloth. He had called himself her friend, but +he was a stranger and she had no right in his life--certainly no right +to spoil it with her ruined one. Her heart beat quick as she held the +back of the chair. + +"I've come to get the answer," said Williams simply. + +"I can't! I can't do it," replied the girl. + +There was silence in the little room, and the two cheap clocks which +stood on the dresser ticked loudly, one half a second behind the +other. He drew an imaginary line on the floor with the ash-plant in +his hand. + +"Well, I'm sorry," he said, looking down at the point of the stick. +She did not speak. + +"I suppose you couldn't come to like me in time? Likely enough I +bean't the sort for a girl to fancy, but ye shan't rue it if ye take +me. Don't be afeard." + +She looked up and saw behind the calm, heavy face into the upright +soul of the sheep-stealer, and the sight made her more determined. +"It's not that. But don't you ask me, George Williams--don't you, for +I can't." + +"D'ye think I shouldn't like ye enough?" he asked, after a pause. "Is +it that that's the trouble?" + +"Ye may like me a bit," she answered boldly, "but it's goodness wi' +you, not love." + +"I like you well," he said, "don't disbelieve me. Mary, Mary, you're +not taking on about that--about Walters o' Masterhouse, curse him?" + +"I can't but think of him. I hate him, but I think of him." + +"You hate him, Mary?" + +"I saw my father lyin' dead i' this room. Lyin' there on the bed. They +fetched it in. Oh, my God! my God!" She turned away from him. "Go! +Go!" she cried, facing round again, "and I'll think of your goodness, +that I will; but I can't take ye, George, so let me be." + +"Mary," he persisted, "will you let me come back? Maybe, as time gets +on, you'd forget a bit." + +He had come to her meaning to act the part of a lover conscientiously, +but he was finding little need for acting; no woman he had ever seen +appealed to him as this one did. He stood in the middle of the room +unwilling to go. She came up to him, and laying her fingers upon his +arm, urged him towards the door. When they reached the lintel, he took +hold of her hand. "Let me come again," he begged, "let me come back. +Do, Mary, do." + +"No, no," she exclaimed, drawing it away, "'tis no manner o' use. +Good-bye; go now, good-bye." + +George Williams was but human, and his heart was bounding within him. +"All right," he said, thickly, "I'll be off then. But oh, Mary, give +me one kiss before I go!" and, in his earnestness, he made as though +he would draw her towards him. + +She sprang back, blushing scarlet to the roots of her hair. "Ah!" she +cried, "an' I thought you were different!" + +Before he had realized what had happened she had shut the door, and he +heard the bolt shoot into its place. He stood in the road, mortified, +ashamed, furious with himself. But as he turned to make his way home +between the leafless hedges, he knew that he loved her. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE SHEEP-STEALERS PART COMPANY + +HE hurried along with the tread of a man who hopes to lose a +remembrance in the tumult of his going. He had failed in every way; +failed in respect to the creature whom he had resolved so fixedly to +protect, and beside whom every other worldly object had all at once +become unimportant. It seemed that he was always to show himself in a +different light to the one which illumined his heart. His evil luck +willed it so, apparently. He loved truth, and yet he lay bound in a +tangle of dishonesty; he loved independence, and he was in the hollow +of a rogue's hand; he loved to be at peace with all men, and his +companion's daily aim was to rouse his temper; and lastly, he loved +Mary Vaughan, and by his own folly he had caused her to shut her door +in his face. + +He felt his incapacities keenly, and the brave holly-sprig in his +buttonhole was no longer an expression of his mood but a mockery of +it. In his self-abasement he did not suspect that she had been hard +upon him, nor could he know how the sudden revelation of his +masculinity had affected her as he came into the cottage. He had +expected to take up their relationship where he had left it on the +river-bank near the snow-men, not understanding that it was an +abnormal one, risen from abnormal circumstances and passing with them. + +He went through Crishowell looking neither to the right nor left and +never slackening his pace, and he was remarked only by such idlers as +were gathered round the blacksmith's shop. At that hour of the +morning, the village people had other things to think of besides their +neighbours' affairs; that was a pleasure reserved for the later part +of the day. He rushed past the churchyard in which he had first seen +Mary sitting by her father's grave, and had watched the burial from +under the yew. As he crossed a field on the way upwards, he saw +Bumpett driving in his spring cart down the lane, his hat bobbing +above the hedge with the jolting of the wheels in ruts, and though he +heard the old man hailing him in his high-pitched voice, he pretended +to be unconscious of it, and went on as though pursued. Presently the +Pig-driver stood up in the cart and produced a sound which had in it +such a note of distress that George pulled up in spite of himself, and +turned his steps towards a low bit of hedge over which he might +converse with his employer. He was rather surprised to find an elderly +woman sitting beside Bumpett on the board which served as a +driving-seat. The Pig-driver crossed his hands one over the other in +spite of the reins in them and shrugged his shoulders slowly, smiling +with the aspect of one who has an ample leisure in which to let loose +his mind upon the world; the horse looked round with cocked ears to +see what was happening. George noticed that the woman seemed agitated. + +"Now, look you, Nannie," began Bumpett cheerily, "I've a fine opinion +o' this young feller. S'pose we was to ax him what he thinks." + +Williams' face darkened, for he was in no humour for trifling, and he +knew by long experience that the old man's expansiveness was to be met +with caution. His malice was the only gratuitous thing about him, and +he was liable to hand that round without stint at any moment. + +"Don't you!" exclaimed Nannie, half under her breath, twitching at her +companion's elbow. "Go on!" she cried to the horse, prodding it with +the umbrella beside her; the beast made a step forward, but the +Pig-driver was holding the reins tightly and progress was impossible. + +"It's no matter, none at all," said Nannie. "Lord love me, I was an +old foondy, brothering at you like that. Go you on, Mr. Bumpett, +'stead o' putting foolery o' that sort into the young man's head." And +she grasped his sleeve again. + +The Pig-driver only smiled more expansively, until his eyes were as +pin-points in his face. + +"How you do pug at me, Nannie, to be sure! Ah, women do take up +strange notions, George, they do indeed," he said wagging his head. + +"I don't know nothin' about women. I must be movin' on," answered +Williams shortly. + +"Well, well. Time's money wi' you," observed the Pig-driver, winking, +"and there's no lack of honest work for honest men. But bide you a +minute. Here's Mrs. Davies have got it that Rhys Walters is hidin' +away hereabouts. What do ye say? Hey? Did 'e ever hear the like o' +that now?" + +"Don't mind him, young man," cried Nannie, leaning out of the cart and +fixing an agonized eye on George. "Lord! Mr. Bumpett, what a man you +be for your fun! 'Tis all a lie, I tell you. What do I know about Mr. +Walters? He's in Ameriky by this time, and like as not he's turned +into a naked savage wi' feathers hangin' down before and behind." + +"Well now, George! Did 'e ever see the like o' that? Coming down the +road she says to me, 'I know 'e's here,' she says; 'where is he, Mr. +Bumpett?' Tell her what ye think, my lad; where be he? She won't +listen to me." + +For reply Williams turned his back upon the pair, and continued his +way up the field. He heard the creak of the springs as the cart +started on again. Nannie was almost sobbing. + +"You're a wicked man, Bumpett," she said, "and if I know anything of +the Lord, you'll smart for this some day." + +Williams was panting by the time he had climbed up to his house, and +he flung the door to unlocked behind him, for he did not want Rhys' +society. + +"It's open," he said, with a backward jerk of his head as the other +came up. + +"Did she take you?" asked Walters, disregarding the remark. He leaned +against the wall, and the semi-darkness which reigned in the cottage +could hardly veil the insolence in his eyes. + +The other took no notice, but began to untie his neckcloth. + +"Ah, you're deaf and can't hear me. I suppose you've had a punch on +the head from her father. There are some men of sense in the world +yet." + +George made no reply, but his face lowered. + +"Perhaps she didn't like you either," continued Rhys, in whom the long +morning spent underground was rankling. "I'm sure I don't wonder. They +like a man that can give them some sort of a decent home, to say +nothing of the rest. However, there are always some thankful enough +for a man's name to hide behind. You might get one that was----" + +"Hold your foul tongue!" broke in Williams. + +Rhys laughed. "Ha! I was right, was I? I knew well enough you'd been +courting and it had come to no good. My God! Fancy a man like you +trying to take up with a woman! What did you say to her, Williams? How +did you begin?" + +At this moment the sprig of holly fell out of George's coat. Rhys +stepped forward to pick it up, and the sheep-stealer put his foot upon +it, grazing Walters' finger with the nails in his boot. + +"I mayn't touch it, I see. I suppose you'd like me to think she gave +it you." + +George was shaking with rage. The mortification in his heart was hard +enough to endure without his companion's sneers, and the Pig-driver +had already exasperated him. He knew that Rhys was as a man drawing a +bow at a venture, but his shots were going perilously near to the +mark. + +"I don't care what you think," he said. "Get down the ladder, you +fool!" + +"Fool, am I? Fool? You can stop that. It's enough to have to live with +an oaf, let alone being called a fool by him." + +"If it hadn't been for me you'd have been living somewhere pretty +different--or maybe you mightn't be living at all," said Williams. +Anger was beginning to lend him a tongue. + +"So you're throwing that in my face! It's like you to do it. If it +wasn't for Bumpett you'd be ready to turn me out into the road to take +my chance. A man who's down in the world isn't fit company for you, +and yet it isn't long since I wouldn't have spoken to a fellow like +you, except to give orders." + +"Get down-stairs," said George, controlling himself with difficulty. A +man who cannot keep his temper is at the mercy of every other person +who can. He knew that very well, but Rhys' persevering insults were +beginning to make his blood boil. + +"I'm not a dog to go to my kennel for you." + +"I've seen many a dog that's better than you're ever like to be. Go +down and leave me alone; I've other things to do than listen to your +tongue. God! To think o' you settin' up to be above another, dog or +no! I'm not thinking o' the old man in his grave down the hill +there--'twas in hot blood an' never meant--but there was worse nor +that, an' I know it." + +Rhys' calmness was leaving him, and his nostrils dilated. + +"What's to come to the girl you left? Tell me _that!_" cried the +other, his voice shaking. + +There was a silence, in which they eyed each other like two wild +beasts. + +"You'd better take her yourself," said Rhys at last with his lips +drawn back from his teeth; "perhaps she mightn't look higher than a +thief--now." + +The words had hardly left his mouth before Williams hurled himself +across the room at him with a violence which sent him staggering +against the partition at his back. It gave a loud crack, and Walters +feared that the whole thing might give way and he might find himself +on the ground among the ruins with the sheep-stealer on the top of +him. George, whose methods of attack were primitive, had got him by +the collar, and was shaking him about in a way which brought his head +smartly in contact with the panels. At last his collar tore open, and, +in the moment's backward slip which this caused the enemy, he wriggled +sideways and got himself almost free; then he flung his arms round +Williams and tried hard to get his foot in behind his heel. Nothing +could be heard in the cottage but the hard-drawn breathing of the two +men as they swung and swayed about, their teeth shut tight and their +eyes fixed; the pent-up hatred of weeks was in them and welled up in +an ecstasy of physical expression. + +George was conscious only of the craving to crush his opponent, to +break his ribs with the grip of his arms, to fling him like a rag into +a corner with the breath wrung out of his body, but Rhys fought for +one end alone, to get his man under him upon the floor, and to this +object his brain worked equally with his limbs. He had always been +jealous of the other's strength, and he longed and panted to see him +lying prostrate below him and to taunt him with his overthrow. They +were well matched, for though Williams' weight was in his favour, the +other was cooler-headed, and his suppleness in shifting his position +saved him from being overborne by it. His nightly ranging about the +hills had given him back much of the vigour he had lost during his +illness, and he was, as he had always been, like a piece of tempered +steel. + +Their struggles drew them nearer to the unlatched door which a little +burst of wind had blown open; they felt the air on their foreheads, +and it refreshed Rhys, whose breath was beginning to fail in the +sheep-stealer's continued grasp. With an effort which nearly broke his +back and loins he freed one arm and hit him on the temple as hard as +he could, allowing for the impossibility of getting his fist far +enough back for a satisfactory blow. George tried to dodge it with his +head, failed, slipped up, and fell with a shock which shook the +building, striking the lintel with the back of his skull. He made one +convulsive effort to rise and fell back unconscious. + +The young man stood looking at the great, still form with the blood +oozing from underneath its hair; then he turned cold with fear lest he +should have killed a man without meaning to for the second time in his +life. There was no room for triumph in his mind as he knelt down and +put his hand inside Williams' shirt. + +But the heart was moving, and, much reassured, he fetched the square +of looking-glass which hung on the wall and held it over George's +lips. His breath made a distinct fog on it, and it was evident to Rhys +that he was only stunned by his fall against the woodwork of the door. +With the relief, all his animosity came back, and having ventured a +few steps out to take a precautionary look round, he began to drag +Williams rather roughly over the threshold. This was no easy task, and +it took him some time to get him round the end of the house and into +the garden behind it, where he laid him on his back under the thickest +gooseberry bush in a place which could not be seen from the +cart-track. + +There he left him while he went in to fetch the bird's-eye neck-cloth; +he dipped it in the brook as he came out, and then laid one end under +the cut on the back of George's head and wound the other round his +temples. After this he smoothed away all signs of their difficult +progress round the cottage, covered over a few drops of blood on the +ground and went in, locking the door. The air and the cold would soon +revive George, and he would have to come round and beg for admittance. +Meanwhile Rhys went down the ladder, meaning to keep his eye at the +aperture in the wall, from which he could see his fallen enemy as he +lay by the bush. He was occupying the exact spot under which he +generally buried his sheep's heads; indeed, his own was supported by +the little mound which these frequent interments had raised, and Rhys +smiled as he noticed it. It pleased him to see so pregnant an +illustration of "the biter bit." + +It did not take long for the air and the wet bandage to do their work, +and Williams, who had only, to use his own phrase, "been knocked +silly," soon stirred and sat up. The bleeding from the cut, which was +not a deep one, relieved his head a good deal, and he gathered himself +up quite unconscious of the fact that Walters' eyes were watching him +not three yards away from his feet. His first impulse as he rose was +to hurry down the ladder after his enemy and begin the fight afresh, +but he had enough sense to realize that, with a giddiness which made +walking rather difficult, he was not likely to gain by such an +attempt. He leaned against the end of the cottage with a sore heart. +In his eternal quarrel with life he never failed to get the worst of +it, and, though he had not the morbid temperament which broods over +these things, the grim undercurrent of dislike to his surroundings was +always there. He ground his teeth as he thought of Rhys Walters, of +Bumpett and his hateful trade, of his ill success with Mary and the +rebuke he had felt so much, of the vile round of law-breaking to which +he was bound for yet another year; it was a miserable prospect. What +if he were to break away from it? The thought was like a whiff from +Paradise. + +He could not owe the Pig-driver very much now, and the rent of the +hovel he was occupying was barely worth consideration, for Bumpett +would have had some difficulty in finding any one who would live in +such a place. True, he had been forgiven his old debt, which amounted +to nearly four pounds--an enormous sum for him. In his two years' +service he must have wiped it out again and again, even taking his +weekly wage into account. But, if he were free, if he could get work +of any sort, he would pinch himself to the uttermost farthing till he +could pay it back in consideration of his broken contract. He had no +one now to think of but himself; if he starved he would starve alone. +Bumpett would, of course, be furious, but, as far as giving him up to +justice was concerned, his hands would be tied. No doubt he would do +his best to injure him in small ways, but that was a risk to be +accepted in common with other chances and changes of this transitory +life. What if he were to do this thing--now--this moment--as he was? +He drew a long breath. + +A shooting pain coming from the cut on his head began to annoy him, +and he went down to the brook, noticing as he passed that the door of +the cottage was shut and suspecting that Rhys had locked it; he knelt +down and rinsed the neck-cloth, wringing out the blood-stains till it +was quite clean. + +As he bent forward his head ached horribly. He washed his wound and +poured the chill water over his face, which refreshed him and took +away the feeling of giddiness, then he got up and stood looking at the +house. + +A bill-hook he had left outside was lying by the wall, and he went and +picked it up; in spite of his having several small possessions inside +the cottage, not for anything in the world would he have entered it, +though a push or two from his shoulders would have made short work of +the door. + +He hoped never in all his life to see Rhys Walters again. What would +become of him after he had gone, or how he would manage to live on +there undetected he could not imagine and did not care. He crossed the +brook and went up the hill, not wishing to go near Crishowell, and +when he had passed the Pedlar's Stone and got on to the foot of the +mountain, he turned westwards towards Great Masterhouse. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +MRS. WALTERS GOES TO CHAPEL + +HE sat for some time on the hill-side turning things over in his mind +and trying to make up some plan of action; in his pocket was the sum +of eightpence-halfpenny, which would just keep him in food for the +next day or two. At present, the bare idea of eating made him feel +ill, for his head had begun to ache violently after the climb. He had +no hat, and he thought it would be best to rest during the day and +keep his unprotected skull out of the rays of the winter sun, which +were very bright. Towards evening he might find a place where he could +pass the night under shelter, and to-morrow he would go to every farm +for miles round--always excepting Great Masterhouse--and do what he +could to get work, no matter of what sort. He might just possibly find +something, and, if unsuccessful, he would betake himself to Talgarth, +a small town some distance off in a different part of the country, and +try his luck there; at any rate, he had done with sheep-stealing for +ever. + +He found a spot under a hedge by a running stream where he sat and +waited until the shades grew long. Now and then he dipped his hand and +bathed his wounded head with the icy water; in this way the day wore +on until light began to fail, and he set off westward again. As he +passed a small farm some dogs ran out barking, and a tidy-looking +woman called them back, putting her head out of a barn-door which +abutted on the path. + +"Thank ye, ma'am," said George, coming to a standstill and hesitating +whether to address her further and ask for work. + +She settled the question herself. + +"Who be you?" she asked abruptly. + +"I'm looking for work," replied he. + +"I said, '_Who be you?_'" she remarked, putting her arms akimbo. + +"My name's George Williams." + +"And what do you want, George Williams?" + +"Work." + +"What sort?" + +"Any sort." + +"That's bad, because I haven't got none for you." + +"Good-day then, ma'am," he said as he turned away. + +The woman came out of the barn and stood watching him; she had never +seen a tramp before who had any pretensions to good manners. He looked +round and saw her, and some impulse made him go back. + +"Please would ye let me lie in that barn to-night, if I may be so bold +as to ask ye?" + +She stared at him for a considerable time without reply. Her eyes were +like gimlets. + +"Do you smoke?" she inquired at last. + +"No." + +"Turn out your pockets." + +He did so, revealing the eightpence-halfpenny, an old knife, and a +piece of string. + +"Very well" she said, "but see you take yourself off again to-morrow." + +"I will, an' thank ye kindly." + +She opened the door wide, and he saw that half of the building was +full of straw; several fowls were scratching about on the floor and +talking in subdued gutturals. The woman pointed to a corner. + +"You can take a bit of the straw and lie there," she said, "but mind +the nests." And in the misty darkness Williams was aware of the round +yellow eyes of a sitting hen fixed watchfully upon him. + +"I'll be mindful," he replied, wondering at his good fortune. + +"You'd better stop now you're here; it's pretty nigh dark," she +observed as she shut the door and went out. + +He assented gratefully, and, fetching an armful of straw, made himself +a bed. The hen's eyes followed his every movement with that look of +latent malice peculiar to her kind. + +It was with a sense of comfort that he stretched his limbs out upon +the softness; his head ached and the darkness was very pleasant. +Presently the door beside him opened and the woman's hand appeared +with a large round of bread and a piece of cheese in it; she gave it +to him with an abrupt nod and departed, noisily slamming the latch. He +had no appetite, but he put the gifts by carefully with a view to the +morrow and was soon asleep. + +He was up by daylight and off again on his search. He passed Great +Masterhouse, and, at mid-day, had been to every place where it was +possible that labour was employed. But there was no chance for him +anywhere, it seemed, and he was much disheartened as he sat down to +eat the bread and cheese he had been given; he determined to go +straight on to Talgarth. + +In the afternoon he struck into a lane leading down to the valley and +on to his destination; he was getting rather weary, having been on his +legs since before sunrise, and he was sick at heart from perpetual +rebuffs and disappointments. He came all at once upon a hollow +circular place whose green turf surrounded a building which he took to +be a place of worship of some kind. It was not an attractive spot, +and, though the door was open, there appeared to be no one in the +neighbourhood. A wall, not two feet high, enclosed the chapel; he +strode over this, glad to think that there would be something to sit +upon inside after his long trudge. When he had entered he was a good +deal alarmed to find that there were one or two people occupying the +wooden pews, and that a man in black was seated upon a raised platform +with a book in front of him. He would have turned and fled, but the +eyes of the man were upon him, and, in face of this, he lost courage +and went in as quietly as he could, taking an obscure seat in a dark +place beside the door. A little window was just by his head, and he +could see, without standing up, that the congregation was beginning to +arrive in twos and threes. Nearly every one went over the wall as he +had done, men and women alike. The man in black returned to his +reading and he felt more comfortable. + +As a sound of wheels approached he looked out and saw through the +distortion of the ancient window-panes that a gig containing two women +had drawn up upon the grass, and that a boy whom he had not noticed +had risen mysteriously from a bush and taken hold of the horse's head. +The two were dressed much alike in bonnets and shawls, but it was +evident that they were mistress and servant from the way in which the +driver threw down the reins and helped the other deferentially to the +ground. She also went forward and had a struggle with the rusty wicket +while her companion awaited the result; it was plain that the ordinary +method of approach over the wall was not good enough for the superior +personality whom she served. George was rather interested, and would +have been more so had he known that he was looking at Mrs. Walters and +her servant Nannie. + +As the new-comers entered the chapel they passed within a few feet of +the young man in his corner, and he had a vague sense of having seen +the taller woman before, though he did not recognize the other as the +person who had been in Bumpett's cart on the previous day, her face +being turned from him. There was a perceptible movement of heads +towards Mrs. Walters as she went up to her place, and she took a +prominent seat with the dignified air of one who knew that no less was +expected of her. Nannie sat a little way behind that she might examine +the other chapel-goers without the rebuke of her mistress' eye; she +had come under protest, it being far more abhorrent to her to go to +chapel on a week-day than to stay away from it on a Sunday. But it was +a special occasion, for the man in black--none other than the preacher +who had originally "brought truth" to Mrs. Walters--was leaving the +neighbourhood on the following morning and did not expect to return to +his flock for some months; and her mistress' orders admitted of no +question. + +In a short time the chapel had half filled, and the service began with +a reading from the Old Testament, and a dissertation of immense length +upon the chapter read. It seemed interminable to Williams, as he sat +quietly in his place, glad of the rest and giving but little attention +to what was going on. He was so much absorbed by his own difficulties +and humiliations that when the assembly, led by a strange voice which +seemed to come from somewhere behind the man in black, began to sing a +metrical psalm, his mind leaped back to his surroundings with a start. +When the singing was over, all fell reverently on their knees and +prayed, following the extemporary supplications of the preacher in +silence. George knelt too. He did not pray, but the change of attitude +was pleasant; he rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes, for +the voice made him drowsy, and, unheeded by any one, he slid out of +consciousness into sleep. + +After the prayers came another reading of the Bible, but he slept on. +His head, bowed on his arms, had a devout look which made those who +could see him suppose him a fervent worshipper unable to bring himself +down from the exaltation of prayer; but the congregation was one +accustomed to unconventional things taking place in chapel and paid no +heed. Only a few, as they trooped from the building, cast curious +glances at him, wondering what sudden conversion or tardy repentance +was going on under the window. + +Nannie Davies had bustled out among the first, and was calling loudly +from the very door of the sanctuary to the boy to put in the horse; +she had a strident voice, and crooked her forefinger as she beckoned +him from his lair in the bushes with a gesture only known to the lower +orders. + +Mrs. Walters was the last to remain. The man in black came down from +his platform and stood talking to her for some time with his back to +the departing people. At last they shook hands, and the black silk +skirt was rustling towards the entrance when she caught sight of the +sleeping man. + +She paused in front of him, but he did not move. The window above his +head shone straight in her eyes, making his figure seem dim; she did +not doubt any more than did the rest of the worshippers that he was +praying devoutly, and, as she had only just turned in his direction, +she had no idea how long he had remained in that attitude. She +suspected some spiritual conflict, and, like Saint Paul, would fain +proclaim the Gospel in season and out of season. She touched him on +the shoulder. + +"You are very earnest in prayer, young man," she said solemnly. "May +the words of Grace we have heard sink into your heart." + +An overpowering confusion covered George. "I wasn't praying, ma'am; I +was asleep," he stammered as he rose. + +"Sleeping in this holy place? In the very sound of the Word? Shame on +you! Shame on you indeed!" + +"I couldn't help it. I didn't mean----" + +"Come with me outside," said Mrs. Walters. "Let us not forget that we +are standing in the tabernacle of the Lord." + +She went out in front of him and he followed. Embarrassed as he was, +he could not help being impressed, and, like Nannie, he felt that he +had met with a person to be obeyed, though his idea was the result of +instinct and hers of experience. + +As they stood in the afternoon light she looked rather severely at his +untidy dress; though he had put on the best clothes he possessed to go +and see Mary, he had since trudged in them for the greater part of two +days and slept in them on the preceding night. His unhandsome aspect +did not speak well for him. + +"Do you not remember Eutychus, the youth who slept while Saint Paul +was preaching?" she continued. "He fell from the window where he sat, +and would have perished in his sins but for the apostle of the +Gentiles. The sin of irreverence is great. Remember you may perish in +it." + +He stood silent. The people had all departed and the place was +deserted. Only Nannie waited by the horse's head, impatiently watching +her mistress. + +"Why did you come here if you had no heart to pray?" inquired Mrs. +Walters. + +"I was tired, ma'am--cruel done. The door was open and I thought I +could sit down quiet-like. I'd no notion there was preaching to be." + +"Where have you come from? Where are you going to?" + +"It's work I'm after. I've gone high and low, and up an' down, and I +can't get none. There's nothin' I'd turn from if I could get enough to +keep me from starving." His voice almost shook. + +"What can you do?" she asked, being a practical woman. + +"I can turn my hand to a power of things about a farm. And I'm a +proper fine hedge-and-ditcher," he added simply. + +In every accident of daily life Mrs. Walters was inclined to see a +special working of Providence, and it was in her mind that this man, +so strangely encountered, might be a brand to be plucked from the +burning and reserved for her hand. She began to think deeply, and, as +Williams saw it, he fixed his eager eyes on her face. Help from this +stern woman seemed to be a futile hope, but he clung to it. + +"Do you know how to grow vegetables?" she said at last. + +"No, I don't. Nothin' but potatoes, more's the pity." + +"But you might learn." + +"I'd try hard, ma'am. Be sure o' that. But I can't tell how 'twould +do." + +Mrs. Walters prided herself on her accurate reading of people, and, to +do her justice, she was generally aware of the sufficiently obvious. + +"I think you are honest," she said, looking hard at him. + +Poor George thought of many things and became crimson. + +She noticed his extreme confusion. + +"Perhaps you have not always been so," she observed. + +"No, I've not," he replied, looking down at his boots. + +"Man! man!" she cried suddenly, her eyes lighting up. "Repent, repent, +while yet you may! The day of grace has not gone by! Turn from your +sins! Abhor them! Flee from them! Put behind you the evil and strive +after a new life." She raised her hands as she spoke, and her voice +rang over to where Nannie stood by the cart. + +This outburst of exhortation had the effect of making Williams very +shy. Intensely reserved himself, it was a real shock to him to see a +stranger so entirely carried away by feeling; he did not know where to +look, and could only stare at a little tuft of moss growing in the +wall of the chapel. His face appeared almost sullen. He could see that +her lips were moving, and that she passed her handkerchief once or +twice over her face. Presently her calm returned. + +"Do you wish to lead an honest life?" she asked. + +"I do indeed; Gospel truth I do." + +"You are a strong man and ought to do a good day's work. Will you do +it, if I give it you?" + +"None shall do a better than I." + +"Then I will try you. You must come to me to-morrow at mid-day, and I +will speak to you. You do not know who I am, I suppose?" she inquired +as an after-thought. + +"No, ma'am, I don't indeed." + +"I am Mrs. Walters of Great Masterhouse," she replied with a certain +stiffness. Her position as a rich woman, the isolation she had made +for herself, and the interested looks which followed her whenever she +went abroad were not without their charm for her, for, like many who +take the effacing of themselves very seriously, she had a touch of +what might be called inverted vanity. + +The familiarity of her face now explained itself to George, and he had +a strong feeling of repulsion at the thought of working among +everything which had belonged to Rhys. But a man struggling for his +daily bread can take no account of such imaginings, and he knew that +he ought to be sincerely thankful for what had happened. + +She went down the path to her cart, cutting short his thanks, and he +turned to enter the chapel again. She looked round and called him. + +"Why do you go back?" she inquired, with a faint hope that her words +had moved him to pray, possibly to give thanks for the prospects she +held out. + +"I have left my bill-hook, ma'am. 'Tis lying on the ground in the +bottom o' the seat." + +A slight expression of annoyance was on her face as the maid-servant +helped her up to her place and brushed her dress where the wheel had +rubbed it. Nannie was a clumsy driver, if a safe one, and she turned +the horse round in an immense circle on the short grass. As George +came out he saw the cart disappearing up the lane, the two women's +backs shaking as the wheels ran into sudden hollows, mistress' and +maid's alike. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE + +THE Archæological Society which reckoned the border country by the +Black Mountain as its special hunting-ground met every winter or early +spring; it had two places of assemblage, and those it took in turn, +meeting one year at Llangarth, and the next at an insignificant +township about twenty miles off across the further bank of the Wye. + +When the latter place was the base of operations for the enthusiasts, +it had been for ages the custom of Mr. Fenton and his wife to invite +the Vicar of Crishowell to Waterchurch, so that host and guest might +attend the meeting together. Both men were members of the association, +and the rendezvous was within comfortable driving distance. The +Squire, it is true, had only a lukewarm interest to give to +antiquities, but the Vicar, whose mind had a secret strain of romance, +had thrown himself heart and soul into the fascinating subject, and +contributed some of the most interesting papers the society possessed. + +Lady Harriet Fenton and her husband were in what the servants called +"her ladyship's boodore," a cheerful apartment, where, as a matter of +fact, most of the business of the Waterchurch estate was done, and Mr. +Fenton stood on the hearthrug looking at his wife's back, talking, as +he talked nearly every day, of agricultural and money dilemmas and +their solutions. He spoke sensibly enough, but the solutions had a way +of being postponed until later, when he had gone off to look round the +stables and Lady Harriet could settle down to her usual morning's +work. + +The Squire was one of those happy and consistent people who have one +real vocation in life, and follow it with no deviations. He was a +figure-head. His fine features, height, and the gallant bearing he had +kept until well on into late middle age, singled him out from those +less ornamented by nature, and the excellent sense of his conversation +impressed all those with whom he was thrown. Devoted to field sports, +he was popular in the hunting-field; an excellent shot, an ideal +companion. Such was the universal verdict. And, in spite of the fact +that he was a figure-head, his wife had also found him an ideal +companion, or very nearly so, partly because he was less exacting than +persons of this profession generally are, and partly because she +herself had one of those natures to whom idleness means misery. He +talked and was pleasant, and she worked and was indispensable, and +between them they kept things going. If sometimes her shoulders ached +and she longed for a rest, she kept these things to herself, and no +one but Llewellyn suspected them; for her endurance was great, as +great as the loyalty which had held up the figure-head for twenty-five +odd years to the gaze of an admiring world. She managed all business +except the few little things that it amused him to undertake himself, +and he leaned upon her, liked her better than any one he knew, and +occasionally had fleeting suspicions that she was superior to most +women, though other matters generally intervened in his mind and +forbade him to follow out the idea. + +Lady Harriet was the daughter of a well-known sporting peer, and it +was her horsemanship which had first attracted him, combined with the +knowledge that she had a little money. She had never possessed beauty +of any sort, being a woman of short and almost stumpy figure, with +strong hands and square shoulders; what had alone redeemed her from +absolute ugliness were her masses of dark hair and the sympathy of +expression in her eyes, which could be appealing, steadfast, humorous, +or soft. Years had intensified this grace in her; it was a lasting +one, and had endured while the thick hair had become silver-grey. She +had always been a keen lover of outdoor life and sports, and had +hunted regularly with her husband and sons, until the Squire's +straitened means had made it difficult to mount the whole family; then +she had quietly given her hunting up, saying that she was getting too +old for long days. + +In the minds of her sons she was connected with everything they had +liked best in their childhood. Their father had not been disposed to +trouble himself with youngsters, so she had taken them bird's-nesting, +scrambling, fishing, and had taught them all as little boys to ride to +hounds. She had not gone much into society of late years, having no +daughters to take out, and not conceiving it to be her duty to form +one of a row of gossiping dowagers at county balls. In her secret +heart Llewellyn was the dearest to her of her four boys; he was the +youngest child, and there was a likeness in disposition between them +which, had they been of one sex, would have forced them apart, but +which, as they were mother and son, drew them together. Besides, as +his business kept him at home, he knew her far more intimately than +did his brothers, and with that greater impartiality which comes when +the boy grows into the man and meets his parents more on common +ground. + +"Do you know that the Archæological Society meets next week, and that +we must ask Mr. Lewis to come over?" inquired Lady Harriet, looking +out of the window upon a border of snowdrops which were just coming +up. + +"By Jove, yes; I had forgotten," exclaimed Mr. Fenton. "I suppose we +ought to ask the niece too." + +"I did not know he had one." + +"A very pretty one. I saw her dancing with Harry at the yeomanry ball. +I forget her name; somebody told me something about her, but I can't +remember that either." + +His wife looked thoughtful. "We shall have to ask her at any rate," +she said; "she can't be left out very well. I hope she is nice." + +"You had better write at once, my dear," said the Squire, making for +the door. "I am going off to the stables." + +So Lady Harriet wrote. + +The letter, when it arrived at Crishowell, produced the most lively +effect upon Isoline. First a perfect agony of apprehension that her +uncle should refuse--a thing that he had no thought of doing--then, a +secret hope that Harry had been the originator of the plan, and had +persuaded his parents to send the invitation; and finally, a mental +trying-on of every frock in her wardrobe to decide the momentous +question of which should be chosen for the coming visit. This +imaginary review was followed by a real one, even more interesting. + +She had not been altogether dull at Crishowell of late, for her +meeting with the person whom she thought of as Robert Kent had been +the first of several. The Vicar, who spent his afternoons in reading +while daylight lasted, only went out just before dusk, and as his +visits to distant cottages brought him home generally at a very late +hour, she had ample time to take off her outdoor clothes and install +herself by the fire before his return. For a few days after meeting +Rhys Walters she had hesitated whether to go in the direction of the +Pedlar's Stone again, but the prospect of being appreciated and the +want of something to do had been too much for her, and she set out one +evening for the farm which Rhys had indicated, and found her way there +by short cuts pointed out by those whom she met in the lanes. Taken +that way, the distance was not great, and when she set foot upon the +short turf of the plateau she was surprised at feeling so little +tired, and walked on westwards. The desertedness of the place awed her +a little, and once or twice she was on the verge of fleeing homewards, +but a figure loomed out of the dusk as she had hoped it might, and her +fears vanished under the protection of her new admirer. + +Rhys was very respectful to her, a wholesome fear having filled his +mind that his rather bold remarks had prevented her from returning, +but he had haunted the place of their meeting patiently, and had +reaped the reward of it in seeing her timid approach through the +failing light. This had happened two or three times. + +But it was not to be supposed that the excitement of these meetings +could be compared to the legitimate and settled glory of a visit to +Waterchurch Court. Isoline had no love of adventure for adventure's +sake, and the prospect of being able to show herself to Harry and +Harry's relations in her prettiest frocks entirely drove from her head +the semi-sentimental interest she was beginning to feel for Rhys. She +counted the days till they should start. + +It was a blowy, showering afternoon on which uncle and niece jogged +along the road, the Vicar driving and Isoline tucked up beside him +under the ungainly hood, with her hands buried in her muff. Behind the +vehicle her box was roped on in some strange manner only known to +Howlie Seaborne, who had secured it there, and under their feet was +Mr. Lewis' modest carpet-bag. + +"I hope Lady Fenton is not very stiff," remarked Isoline, when they +had turned their backs to the wet south wind, and it was again +possible to talk. + +"She is Lady Harriet Fenton, not Lady Fenton, my dear." + +"But what must I call her then?" + +"Lady Harriet." + +"That sounds very familiar," said the girl. + +"It is the custom, nevertheless." + +They were coming within sight of the house, which had the appearance +of a small town, for its outbuildings, as well as the mansion itself, +had a surprising amount of chimneys protruding from the trees and +giving a false idea of size. Glimpses of red brick were to be seen +through gaps in the shrubberies, making subdued patches of colour in a +rather solemn general aspect. Three tall fir-trees stood in front of +the façade, and on the roof was an old-fashioned arrangement of +wrought-iron, from which hung a large bell. A little shelter was over +its head like a canopy over the head of an idol. A bank sloped down to +the Wye, which ran in a shallow ford over the road, making a singular +foreground to the place. + +As they drew up at the door Harry's figure appeared from round a +corner of the house, and a brilliant blush overspread Isoline's face +as she saw him; it was a good beginning to her visit. She wondered +whether he had been watching for their approach. He took them through +the hall, carrying the Vicar's bag himself, so much uplifted by their +arrival that he forgot to put it down, and ushered them into the +drawing-room with it still in his hand. + +"My dear boy," exclaimed his father, when they were all seated, and +Isoline had taken off her wraps, "why not send that up-stairs? Mr. +Lewis may prefer a more convenient place than this to change his +clothes in." + +Isoline sat looking out of the corners of her grey eyes at Lady +Harriet, and taking in every detail of her appearance; she had never +seen any one in the least like her, and she was almost shocked by her +simplicity of manner and generally untitled appearance; this +simplicity made her feel more shy than the stiffness she had +anticipated. She could not talk to Harry with much ease in the +presence of his parents, and they were so much engrossed in her uncle +that she had a good opportunity of examining her surroundings. The +drawing-room interested her very much. The ceiling was high, and the +furniture solid, like all the furniture of that date. Some heavy +gilt-framed fire-screens stood on either side of the fender, and over +the mantelpiece was a full-length portrait of the Squire's mother in +high-waisted muslin, her lovely face smiling down into the room in +which she had lived and moved thirty years ago, and which knew her no +more. + +Afternoon tea had not been invented in those days, and people dined +earlier than they do now; so, as the travellers had arrived late, it +was almost time to dress for dinner when Isoline was shown up to her +bedroom. A housemaid was lighting some high candles on the +dressing-table as she entered, and the fire in the grate shone on the +panelled walls; at one end of the room was a large four-post bed hung +with dark chintz of a large pattern. Outside, a streak of wet, yellow +sky could be seen beyond the trees. It was a dismal place, she +thought, as she began to unpack her box and to lay out her dresses. + +As she stood before the looking-glass ready for dinner she made a +radiant picture against the vague darkness which the sunken fire had +almost ceased to illumine. The wax candles on either side of her +reflection lit her up, a vision of youth framed in by the large oval +of the mirror. She had put on a low white muslin dress with +transparent folds surrounding the shoulders, in which she looked like +some beautiful woodland sprite rising from a film of thistledown. A +string of scarlet coral was round her neck, matching her red lips. She +looked at herself intently, and her eyes seemed to be dreaming a dream +of her own beauty. Presently she took a scarlet geranium, which stood +in a little glass on the table with a piece of maidenhair, and +fastened it on her bosom; then she turned away, looking back at +herself over her shoulder. Dinner would not be ready for twenty +minutes, and she wondered what she could do until it was time to go +down. It was so dark out of the radius of the candles, and the +lugubriousness of a piece of tapestry let into the panelling and +representing an armed warrior in the act of cutting off an enemy's +head made her shiver; she determined to have a roaring fire when +bed-time came. Then she thought she would go down to the drawing-room; +it would be lighter there, and she might amuse herself by looking at +the things in it until the rest of the world was dressed. + +The strangeness of the house made her feel shy, and she went +down-stairs softly, meeting no one, and entered the drawing-room to +find Harry standing at the window whistling softly as he stared out +into the dark. Though the curtains were not drawn he could not have +got much profit from his observations, for all outside was an +indistinguishable mass of black. His face lit up as he turned and saw +her. + +"I hoped you might be early," he said. "I dressed as quickly as I +could on the chance of your coming down soon." + +"What made you think I should?" she asked, lowering her eyelids. + +"You went up so long ago. You can't take more than an hour dressing, +surely?" + +"Oh, but one can if one wants to look nice." + +"You have done that to-night, at any rate," said he. + +"You are very complimentary, Mr. Fenton." + +"It's quite true," replied he, with fervour, cursing inwardly as he +heard a footstep nearing the door. + +It was only a servant come to draw the curtains, and the two sat in +rather a conscious silence while the shutters were fastened up and the +heavy rings sent rattling along the curtain-poles. + +"Are you coming to Crishowell again?" asked Isoline, when the servant +had gone. + +"I should like to come every day if I could," he replied. + +He was falling very deeply in love; never had she looked so beautiful +to him, and seeing her in his own familiar surroundings added to his +infatuation. To keep her there always would be to locate heaven. + +"Why do you say 'if I could'? Cannot you do as you please?" she +inquired, with a pout. + +"Of course I can," he said rather stiffly, thinking of Llewellyn. "Who +is to prevent me? I shall come next week." + +She smiled archly. "On business for your father?" said she, playing +with the geranium in her bodice. + +"No; on business of my own." + +As Isoline sailed in to dinner on the arm of Mr. Fenton, she wished +heartily that her aunt in Hereford could have seen her, and she took +her place with a little air of deprecating languor; she was anxious to +impress the servants with the fact that she had been waited on all her +life, and that no genteel experience could be anything but stale. +Afterwards, when dinner was over and she retired with Lady Harriet to +the drawing-room, she felt herself for the first time unequal to the +occasion, though she chatted away, helped by the elder woman's efforts +to put her at her ease. But both stifled a sigh of relief when the men +came in. + +It was a dull, solemn evening, she thought, though she enjoyed the +rapture with which Harry turned over the leaves of her music as she +sang. Her clear, thin voice sounded like a bird's when she trilled her +little operatic airs; it was true, too, which is more than can be said +for many one has to listen to in drawing-rooms. + +She got into the impressive four-poster in her panelled room, sighing +to think that one of her evenings at Waterchurch was over, though, as +far as actual enjoyment went, it had not been remarkable. But we +follow ideas, not actualities--at least, those of us who have souls +above the common. + +She soon fell asleep, tired by the excitement of seeing new faces, and +well satisfied with herself; but Harry sat up late in his room. It was +long past midnight when he went to bed, and, when he did, he could not +sleep for thinking of her. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE PEDLAR'S STONE + +THE Vicarage at Crishowell looked duller than ever, Isoline thought, +as she and Mr. Lewis came round the corner of the church and faced its +homely front. Howlie was at the door grinning affably, in her eyes a +horrible travesty of the soft-mannered footman who had presided over +their departure at the other end of their drive. A duck was quacking +by the pond, and she would have liked to throw stones at the creature +for the odious familiarity of its greeting, had she only known how to +do so. She knew herself to be built for refinement, and, after two +days of a ladyship's society, it could hardly be expected of her to +slip glibly into lower surroundings. Her face grew haughty as she +perceived Howlie. + +The visit to Waterchurch had, perhaps, lacked something of the +grandeur expected, and the discrepancy between her anticipations of +Lady Harriet and the real woman were a little upsetting; but there had +been compensations, for she suspected herself of having, in some ways, +impressed her hostess. A woman who went out in a homespun skirt and +thick boots could not fail to notice the difference between herself +and a young lady who wore beflounced dresses and kid shoes even in the +country. + +She had now no doubt of Harry's feelings; he was deeply in love with +her, and she looked to his coming visit as to a red-letter day. He +would arrive next week "on his own business," as he had said, and his +business would be hers too. She was quite shrewd enough to foresee +opposition on the part of his family, but the game was worth the +candle, and would be hers in the end. It was stimulating to think of a +victory over Lady Harriet. + +Howlie and the maid-servant carried her box to her room, the former +puffing loudly as he went up the staircase supporting the hinder end +of the load. + +"Unlock it," said Isoline, as it was set down in its place, tossing +him her keys with the air of a duchess. + +He looked as impudently at her as he dared, and picking up the bunch, +proceeded to make as much noise as he possibly could over the +operation. + +"How dreadfully clumsy you are, Howell," she exclaimed, annoyed, very +naturally, by the superfluous rattling that was going on. + +He only sniffed, a habit he had when he found reply unnecessary. + +The rattling did not abate, till she darted across the room to snatch +the keys from him, the hauteur of her deportment flying to the winds. + +"You stupid boy!" she exclaimed, "if you were at Waterchurch Court, +where I have been, you would not be tolerated for a single day! Her +ladyship would send you packing in a very short time!" + +He fixed his gaze upon her critically, and observed that, in taking +off her hat, she had loosened some hairpins. + +"Yewre 'air's coming down," he remarked placidly. + +Her hand went up to it at once. + +"Oi can settle that for yew," he continued, with pleasant good-nature, +"for oi learned to plat up the 'orses' tails proper when I was working +i' the yard at Jones'." + +"You are impertinent as well as noisy," said Miss Ridgeway angrily; +"if you cannot unlock my box you had better go down-stairs. Why Mr. +Lewis keeps you here at all is a wonder to me, mannerless, +good-for-nothing boy that you are!" + +He gathered himself up from the floor on which he was kneeling by the +box, and left the room. Isoline was still ruffled when she turned to +her dressing-table, but Howlie was smiling as he made his way to the +back premises. "Miss is crewell hoigh since she come back from +Fenton's," he remarked to the maid-servant as he entered the kitchen. +"She's a settin' her cap at the young general over there. Moy! but +he's a smart feller too," he added, thinking of the half-crown. + +For a couple of days after her return the memory of Waterchurch buoyed +up Isoline through the flatness of life at the Vicarage, and she spent +many an hour anticipating Harry's coming and its almost certain +result. But, in spite of this, time was long, and the excitement in +her mind made her restless, too restless to sit quietly in the house; +she felt she must be out and moving about--a rather unusual thing with +her. + +It was with a half-formed resolution that she put on her hat one +afternoon, the Pedlar's Stone in her mind. Harry was so much in her +thoughts that she was a little unwilling to replace his visionary +image by the reality of the person she was likely to find there, but, +in spite of this, her feet seemed to carry her imperceptibly towards +the way that had become so familiar. She found herself on the turf of +the plateau almost before she had decided whether it would be pleasant +to see Rhys or not. + +She was pretty certain that he would be waiting there, for, though he +had made no actual declaration of love to her, she had seen plainly at +their last meeting that he was on the high-road to doing so. Comparing +him with Harry in her mind, she knew that he was the more attractive +of the two, partly because of the mystery surrounding him, and partly +because, as a man, he was a more imposing person. Harry was a boy. But +what Harry lacked in personal importance was made up to him a +thousandfold by his accessories; the actual man mattered little to +her. She had hardly discovered more about Rhys than he had told her on +the evening of their first meeting, for though she had tried to +question him about himself on subsequent occasions, she had got at +nothing new. To-night she resolved to find out something further. + +Dusk had fallen when she reached the Pedlar's Stone; she knew nothing +of its history nor the reason of its existence, and her curiosity +about outdoor things was so small, that it had never occurred to her +to ask him about it. She stood beside it looking round at the +darkening landscape, never suspecting that, apart from the Pig-driver +and a few of his dependents, she was almost the only person in +Crishowell parish who would venture to do so. Had she known it, the +idea would hardly have troubled her, for though not physically brave, +she was too unimaginative to be upset by anything she could neither +see nor feel. She stepped up on to the bank in which it was embedded, +and looked through the straggling hazels for some sign of Rhys. Not a +live thing was to be seen. She shuddered a little at the awful +loneliness that hung around, and for a moment a kind of panic took +her. It was almost as though the atmosphere of horror raised round the +place by popular tradition had made itself tangible and leaped upon +her. She turned quickly to come down the bank, screaming at the sudden +apparition of Rhys' figure. He stood a few paces off, with his arms +folded, watching her. + +"How you startled me!" she exclaimed, half angry; "where did you come +from?" + +"I have followed you for some way," he replied, smiling as he took her +hand. + +"I don't like that," she said pettishly; "it is horrid to think of +some one walking behind one when one does not suspect it." + +"Are you angry with me?" asked Rhys. "Don't be unkind after I've +waited for you every evening for the last four days." + +"But I told you I should be away from Crishowell. I only came back the +day before yesterday. I enjoyed myself very much too." + +"I am glad of that," said Rhys, in a voice which gave the lie to his +words. + +"I was staying at such a delightful place," she continued, pausing for +the expected question. + +It came at once. + +"Where was that?" + +"A place called Waterchurch Court. Have you ever heard of it? It +belongs to Mr. Fenton, who is very rich." + +Rhys repressed an exclamation. "I know about him. He has a son, hasn't +he?" + +"Yes," replied Isoline, looking conscious. + +"An' I'll be bound he paid you a sight of attention," cried Walters, +relapsing, as he sometimes did when excited, into the speech of his +forefathers. + +"Let us go and sit down," said Isoline, "I am getting tired." She +moved towards the great stone on which they usually sat. + +"You haven't answered me," he exclaimed, tormented by the thought of +Harry. + +Isoline liked power. "Why should I?" she asked lightly. + +"I'll tell you why," he cried, his breath coming short through his hot +lips; "because I love you, Isoline--I love you! I love you! I think of +nothing but you, day and night!" + +She quickened her pace, her head turned away from him, yet her +expression was not exactly one of displeasure. But he could not see +that. + +"Ah, you don't care, I suppose," he went on, catching her hand again, +"but you can't stop me, Isoline. Do you hear that? I love you! I +_will_ love you, whatever you may say. What do I care for anything in +this world but you? Here I've sat, night after night, crying out in my +heart for you, and longing all the days you have been away for a sight +of your face! Hate me if you like, I can't stop loving you." + +"Let me alone, Mr. Kent," faltered the girl, somewhat taken off her +feet by his torrent of words. "Let me go, please; I cannot stay here +if you go on in that way." + +"You _shall_ hear me!" cried Walters, planting himself before her. +"Why did you come here, making me forget everything, luck and trouble +alike? Isoline! Isoline!" + +She was getting alarmed by his violence, and would have turned and +fled, but his arms were round her and he was covering her face, her +lips, her cheek, her hair, with furious kisses. She struggled angrily +for a moment, and finding resistance useless, dropped her head upon +his shoulder and began to cry. Rhys held her closer. + +"Don't cry like that," he said, almost in a whisper, frightened in his +turn by the effect of his outburst. + +"Let me go," she repeated. "I want to go home." + +"Isoline, don't say that--don't go! Ah! how I love you! You must not +go. Speak to me--tell me you like me a little, only to keep me from +breaking my heart." + +"Let me go," she repeated again. + +He loosed his arms and she pushed him away. "How can you be so rough +and frighten me so?" she exclaimed, drying her eyes with her +handkerchief. "I will never come back here--never--never!" + +Rhys was half-mad with excitement and despair at her words. He turned +away, striking his clenched hands together and walking to and fro like +a creature in a cage. She watched him over her handkerchief; emotion +was a thing new to her, and she did not like it. + +"Do stop," she said petulantly, putting it back in her pocket. He +turned round and stood humbly before her. + +"I have terrified you," he said. "I am a brute beast, not fit to speak +to you, not fit to love you." + +Almost for the first time in his life he thought more of another than +of himself. She was silent, the resentment in her face giving way to +curiosity. + +"Why do you behave like that?" she asked at last. + +"Oh, Isoline, I am sorry. Only stay with me a little longer. I swear +to you that I will be quiet, and not frighten you any more. I couldn't +help it, dear; I love you so." + +"I think you have behaved very badly," the girl said, pursing up her +lips and quite self-possessed again. "It is impossible for me to stay. +I am accustomed to gentlemen." + +Rhys groaned. + +"I hope you are ashamed," she said, with a fine ignorance of her own +share in the situation. + +"I am, I am." + +He stood silent while she smoothed her hair, which had become +disarranged. + +"I suppose I may go a bit of the way with you," he hazarded, when she +had finished. "It's dark, and I must see you as far as the place above +the farm." + +She did not move; she was looking at him with a faint curiosity. + +"I will stay a short time if you give me your word that you will not +annoy me again," she said, a little surprised at his submission. + +Certainly it was a strange state of mind for such a man as Rhys +Walters. But many things had cropped up in his heart, unsuspected even +by himself. + +"I don't deserve it," he said. + +"I do not wish to be too hard upon you," she replied, judicially, as +she seated herself in their usual place. + +Rhys' depression was so great that Isoline soon began to get rather +tired of his company, for he seemed quite incapable of entertaining +her, and the little admiring speeches that had formerly fallen so +glibly from his tongue would not come, charmed she never so wisely. + +In a short time she rose to go home, and he made no protest after he +had extorted a reluctant promise that she would return again. Her +reluctance did not go very deep. + +"Why have you told me so little about yourself?" she asked, as they +went along the plateau. "I know your name, and I know that I must not +speak of you to any one; but that is not much." + +He was not embarrassed by these questions, for he had long ago +foreseen them and prepared something to meet them with. + +"What are you doing here?" continued she. "Does no one ever see you?" + +"No one but you and one other. If I were seen I should have to leave +this place at once. I am a Government agent on private business for +the Crown." + +He paused a moment, and Isoline's eyes opened wide in her interest. + +"Yes," she said, "go on." + +"I'm employed by Government to watch some people who are thought to be +doing wrong, and to do that, I have to keep myself out of sight." + +"Who are they, and what are they doing?" + +"I can't tell any one that, but it has to do with an estate." + +The girl drank his words in. The little imagination she had was always +attracted by a mystery, and the very vagueness of his story only +served to impress her more. + +"Then is Kent your real name?" she asked. + +"No--no, it isn't. But I have had to take it for business purposes. +You haven't forgotten that you promised to tell no one you had seen +me. You will keep your word, Isoline?" + +"Oh, certainly," she exclaimed fervently, "I should be afraid to say +anything after what you have told me. I might get into trouble, +mightn't I?" she added naïvely. + +"And I might have to go to prison," he said, speaking the exact truth. +"You would be sorry for that, wouldn't you, Isoline?" + +"Oh, really I should. How dreadful!" she exclaimed. + +At this his heart thrilled; he had no idea how the words "Crown" and +"Government" had exalted him in her eyes. The pedestal upon which he +had raised her was so high that he never supposed she could see down +into the sordid world beneath her. Poor Rhys! the spiritual part of +him was small, a feeble spark hidden deep in the darkness of +selfishness, but Isoline had struck it with her little worthless hand, +and it had flickered up. + +After leaving her he went back to the cottage in a state of rapture, +for she had promised to return. Like Harry at Waterchurch, he was +wakeful with thoughts of her, but, unlike him, he went out into the +night, and spent it rambling among the shoulders of the mountain. + +It was dawning when he came home and locked himself in for the coming +day, and the place was so cheerless that he almost missed George. He +wondered what had become of him as he went down the ladder and threw +himself on his bed. The underground room was now half filled with +things which he had carried below after his companion had left him, +and the mattress and other possessions belonging to the sheep-stealer +furnished his prison, and made it a little more habitable. The +impossibility of having a fire tried him in the cold weather, for the +place was chilly with the damp of the surrounding earth, and he dared +not during the day kindle the smallest flame in the fire-place, for +fear that, by some fraction of a chance, some one might pass, and +observe the uncommon spectacle of smoke issuing from an empty house. + +For some days after Williams had gone he had been in sore straits. +There were few provisions in the cottage, and when they were finished, +there was no means of getting more, as he dared not venture out. +Fortunately, it wanted but a few days of the Pig-driver's weekly +visit, and he eked out his food till the old man should arrive, +fighting his hunger as best he might, and blessing the clear mountain +water which ran at the door. As he heard the sound of Bumpett's +squeaky voice one morning in the room above, he felt like a +shipwrecked man who sees a sail. Had his visitor been an angel from +heaven, instead of an exceedingly wicked old man, he could not have +been more welcome. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR + +WHEN the Pig-driver heard from Rhys that George had gone, apparently +for good and all, his rage was great; his tight little lips had only +one movement with which to express anything he felt, and they grew yet +tighter in a grin as he sat on a log in the underground room and heard +the story. His mouth had the appearance of being embedded in his round +face. He was angry with Walters for his part in ridding him of such a +servant as he could hardly hope to replace, but he did not venture to +give his anger the rein, being too much aware of the loneliness of +their position. He was a cautious man, and contented himself with +laughing immoderately as Rhys told him of his privations, and making +some very unseasonable jokes. + +"How we do come down i' the world," he said sympathetically, taking +off his hat and turning it critically round in his hands. "Well, well, +to be sure, who would a' thought, when ye were such a fine figger of a +feller at Great Masterhouse, that ye'd come to this?" His eyes +twinkled as he spread out his fingers on his knees. + +"Little did I think," he continued, "when I were settin' down to the +fire last night wi' my drop o' cider an' my bit o' cold goose, that +you was starvin' here like a beggar man, an' would be thankful to me +for any crust o' bread I could spare ye." + +It was rather a surprise to Bumpett when he saw how willing Rhys +Walters was to remain in George's place, and to do George's work. He +proposed the scheme with considerable caution, expecting an indignant +refusal, but the other took it quietly enough, and agreed to serve him +as George had done, and to receive his daily food in return and the +use of the miserable roof under which they sat. + +"Ye bean't thinking to leave the country then?" said the Pig-driver +with some curiosity. + +"Not yet," said Rhys curtly, reddening as he spoke. + +The old man looked shrewdly at him out of his pig-eyes. + +"Ye've got some game o' your own, I'll be bound," he said, with one +foot on the bottom rung of the ladder. "Well, it's nowt to do wi' me, +though I am your master now," he added, as he disappeared safely +through the trap-door. + +Rhys now cared neither how he existed nor what he did so long as he +could see Isoline Ridgeway, and time, for him, was measured merely by +the interval between one meeting and another. He snatched at Bumpett's +proposal, which would open the road to all he lived for and give him +an occupation he liked. He had grown perfectly reckless, looking no +farther than the actual present; his old identity, his old interests +and possessions were lost, and no new life, however prosperous, could +make up to him for a final parting with Isoline. He was like a man +upon whom the sun bursts from behind some dismal pack of clouds, +dazzling his eyes, heart, brain and imagination till he can no longer +clearly see the objects around. He was blinded, overpowered; his +self-important soul was humbled by the perfections with which he had +invested his queen. + +His very face had altered since the days before the Rebecca riots, for +the clear tan of his skin was changed to a sort of pallor due to his +indoor life. His roamings in the dusk and during the dark hours of +night kept him in health, and his limbs had long ago recovered their +strength, but he no longer wore the expression of self-centred +carelessness which had characterized him a few months before. His keen +eyes had a look of pre-occupation, the look of a man whose soul +inhabits one place while his body lives in another. All his life his +adaptability had been so great that, from every new change and +experience, he had gathered some surface difference. Now, for the +first time, a thing had happened which had gone down deep and reached +the real man. It could not change him altogether, but it had raised +the best flower which had ever sprung up from the poor and untilled +ground of his nature. + +James Bumpett was scarcely the man to let a debtor slip through his +fingers as George had done, and he cast about on every hand to find +out what had become of the truant. Williams, who was working among the +cabbage-beds of the garden at Great Masterhouse, glanced over the +fence one day to see the rubicund face and tall hat of the Pig-driver +on the other side of it. The two men looked at each other, and +Bumpett's mouth made itself into a slit; he was so small that he could +only just see over the high green boards. + +"Well, to be sure!" he exclaimed, chuckling. "Well, well, I never +did!" + +The other met his eyes with a sullen calmness. "I've left you," he +said. + +"Name o' goodness! Have ye, now? Well, ye might say I suspected it." + +The old man came nearer to the fence, and, taking hold of the pointed +boards of the top, drew himself up, till his hat had risen about a +foot over it. Dignity was one of the few things he did not understand. + +"Mind yourself; there's nails," said George. + +"I suppose," remarked Bumpett, "that ye thought ye'd seen the last o' +me." + +Williams resumed his work, and went on turning over the earth which he +was preparing for vegetable seeds. He determined to take no more +notice of the Pig-driver, who had found in the fence a suitable cranny +in which to insert his foot, and showed no signs of departure. His +horse and cart were standing a little way off. + +"There's a sight o' sludge in that garden," he remarked at last, +smiling agreeably. + +Many excelled George in speech, but silence was rather a gift of his. +His spade went on vigorously. Bumpett began to hum as he looked at the +bare branches of the pear-tree trained against one end of the farm +wall. + +"Don't you be afeard to speak up, George Williams," he said +reassuringly, when he had finished his tune. + +It was a chilly morning, and the wind which swept over the plateau to +Great Masterhouse was beginning to touch up the old man's hands in a +disagreeable way; his knuckles looked blue as he grasped the fence. +The thud of the spade going into the earth was the only response. + +"Ye'll have something to say when I take the law on ye for that +rent-money," he called out as he slipped down to the ground and +climbed into his cart. + +Mrs. Walters soon discovered that, in doing well for Williams, she had +also done well for herself. Her new servant worked harder than any one +on the farm, and was so quiet and orderly that he gave trouble to +neither mistress nor men. Although she despised flowers for mere +ornament's sake, she had some practical knowledge of gardening as far +as the useful part of it went, and, her father having been a seedsman, +she was learned in planting and the treatment of parsley and carrots +and everything that contributed to the household table. Under her +management George worked in the garden; he mended gates and fences, +pumped water, and turned his hand to anything. She exacted from him a +promise to go to chapel every Sunday, and looked upon him with that +proprietary feeling that a man may have for a dog which he has +personally saved from drowning. Sometimes she spoke to him of his +soul, which abashed him terribly. + +Although she wore a black silk dress on Sundays, as befitted a woman +of her means, she was up and out early on week-days, walking through +cow-house and poultry-yard, and appearing now and then in places in +which she was not expected, to the great confusion of the idle. + +She was just to her men, and, according to her lights, just to her +maids. To the latter she was pitiless on the discovery that any one of +them had so much as the ghost of a love-affair. Such things were +intolerable to her, a shame and a hissing. For a money trouble she +would open her purse, having had experience of poverty in the days +before her parents grew prosperous; for a love trouble she had nothing +but a self-satisfied contempt, and, for a sister who had loved too +much--from whatever reason--she had a feeling which would have made +her draw in her skirts with a sneer, should she pass such an one in +the street. To her, the woman who had staked her all upon one man and +lost it was the same as another who made a profession of such lapses; +she had excellent theories of life, but she had seen nothing of it. +She was, however, true to them, true to herself and true in her +speech, though, in her mind, there was but one point of view to be +taken by all decent people, and that was her own. Her leniency to +Williams, who could look back on past dishonesty, was one of those +contradictions which come, now and then, even to the consistent, and, +for once in her life, she was ready to believe that a back-slider +might yet retrace his steps. Besides, George was a man, and she had +the idea, curiously common to good women, that, though a man's sins +might possibly be condoned, a woman's were unpardonable. + +While George went on with his work so quietly, his mind was anything +but quiet. He knew his late master well enough to be sure that his +threat was no idle one, and that, if the money he had owed him for so +long was not produced, Bumpett would never rest until he had him +safely by the heels in jail. He had lately been assured in chapel that +the way of the transgressor was hard, but it struck him, as he delved +on, that the way of the transgressor trying to reform was even harder. + +"Who was that climbing upon the fence?" called the voice of Mrs. +Walters. + +He looked up to see her standing at an open window with an expression +of some displeasure upon her face. + +"It was Mr. Bumpett, ma'am--the Pig-driver at Abergavenny." + +"Why was he shouting in that way into my garden? I heard him say +something about 'the law.'" + +"'Twas at me," replied Williams, feeling rather foolish. + +He drove his spade into the earth with a blow, and went up to the +window, mopping his forehead. + +"I'm sorry," he began, "but I'm afeard I'll have to go." + +"To go? And why?" + +"Ah, 'tis no choice o' mine." + +"Where are you going, Williams?" + +"'Tis very like to be to the jail. I owe Mr. Bumpett a sight o' money, +and I can't pay him, ma'am." + +She looked at him in astonishment as he stood hanging his head. + +"Come into the kitchen," she said, turning from the window. + +It was perhaps the first time that any one had ever wished to confide +in Mrs. Walters, and, sorely as he longed to do so, it was impossible +for George to tell her the whole history of his trouble. But his +simplicity and evident belief in her sympathy touched her as they +might not have touched a more expansive heart, accustomed to the near +contact of other lives. She sat upright on the kitchen settle while he +poured out the tale of his debt; it was a common story, badly told, +and it had to end just where he would have liked to begin. He felt as +if the confession of his past doings would have taken pounds from that +weight of shame which he had carried about with him ever since his +acceptance of Bumpett's terms. His only comfort was in the fact that +his mother had never suspected the life to which he had pledged +himself for her sake. He had not known the sympathy of a woman since +her death. + +He looked down at the earth on his boots as he spoke, for he had +forgotten, when he came in, to clean them on the heap of bracken by +the doorstep. He was afraid that Mrs. Walters was looking at it too. +But her eyes seemed fixed on something far off as she rose, slim and +straight, from the settle. What she saw was a man little younger than +the one before her, who had brought disgrace and shame upon her and +her house. She could not understand it at all. What earthly temptation +could there have been to have made him act as he had acted? Her mouth +tightened. How was it that this stranger, this rude labourer, should +trust her as her own son had never done? She stared out of the window +to where the Twmpa reared its great shoulder, unconscious that she was +looking at places nightly trodden by Rhys' feet, and, as her +bitterness against him increased, so did her sympathy for the other +deepen. + +"I will pay Mr. Bumpett," she said suddenly, her back still turned +"and your debt will be to me." + +The young man stammered some confused words; he would have liked to +say many things, but his tongue failed him in the emergency, as it +usually did. But he felt as if the gates of heaven were opening in his +face. + +"Go on with your work, Williams," said Anne, turning round and waving +him out of the room. "I have no more time to talk to you just now." + +When he had gone she left the kitchen and went up the wooden staircase +leading to the tower; the room that her husband had lived in was kept +locked, and had been used for some years as a kind of storehouse for +boxes. As she turned the key it screeched in the lock, and she +determined to tell Nannie to have the thing oiled; she had not crossed +the threshold since Rhys had left Great Masterhouse before the riot. A +couple of old bridles were hanging on nails against the wall, for he +had used the place to keep odd bits of harness in, and, in obedience +to her mistress's orders, Nannie had laid away his clothes in a +cupboard at the end of the room. Mrs. Walters paused in front of it; +standing in this spot which cried to her of an uncongenial past, she +had an impulse to open it and look at the familiar things. She had no +love for them and they could but bring back to her mind what it was +her daily endeavour to forget, but she was in that experimental humour +in which people long to assail their own feelings in the vain hope of +finding them a little more impervious than they supposed. So she +looked for the key only to see that it was gone, the old woman having +carefully carried it away when she had given the garments to Bumpett, +and passed on unknowing that the shelves were almost empty. + +Some of Eli's possessions also remained, and she went over to the +mantel-piece to see the things she had come up to look at--two little +daguerreotypes belonging to her late husband, one of the child who was +dead, and one of the son who was living. They were framed in cheap +brass, beaten out thin and ornamented with a florid, embossed pattern, +and they had little rings behind them, to hang them to the wall. +Between them was a similar portrait of herself as a young woman. + +She took them up, one in each hand, her lips pressed close together as +she carried them to the light. Rhys' bold face looked out at her, the +black shadows of the imperfect process giving it an unpleasant +harshness. He was standing, his hand on a chair, with the usual +looped-up curtain at his back; Eli had been very proud of the picture. +The other frame contained the figure of a boy of six. Mrs. Walters +could not look at it. + +She replaced the two on the mantel-shelf and went out, locking the +door. The wound she had carried for years was no harder--not a whit. +She went into the parlour, a grim, uninviting room in which she sat +when she was at leisure, or when she received any one whose position +demanded more than the kitchen, and sitting down at the table, opened +a Bible. It was a large book, and she propped it against a Manual of +Practical Bee-keeping, turning to one of the chapters set apart by +custom as particularly suited to the bereaved. She forced herself to +read. It was the orthodox way with religious people of overcoming +trouble, and the sect to which she belonged applied the words of +Scripture to all circumstances and cases. But though she went through +the lines steadily, moving her lips, they gave her no sensation of any +kind, and seemed no more applicable to the tumult in her than if they +had come from the book of bee-keeping which supported them. She glued +her attention to the page, reading on and pausing after each verse. +Presently her lips ceased to move and were still. A large tear rolled +slowly out of each eye and ran down her cheek, falling on the red +cloth of the table. The muscles of her face were rigid, never moving; +one would not have supposed that she was crying, but for the drops. +She took out her handkerchief and dried her eyes, and the act had the +air of a concession awkwardly made; she shut the book and clasped her +hands together. Then she opened it again in the Old Testament, and, +beginning at one of the denunciatory psalms, read it through to the +end. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A BAD DEBT + +THE Pig-driver climbed into his high cart like some obscure insect +legging its way up the face of a wall. He did not take the reins +himself, but let his boy continue driving, so that he might have more +leisure to think over the iniquities of George. He was so angry that +it cost him quite an effort not to turn the wheels of his chariot +towards Abergavenny, and begin at once to make out his bill against +him. As he was jolted along he began reckoning up the pounds, +shillings and pence on his fingers; but his transactions with other +people were so numerous and so odd that he could not make much way +through their complications without his accounts, and was forced to +wait until he got home in the evening, before he could disentangle +Williams' liabilities from the mass of notes among which they reposed. + +Bumpett's accounts were like some human beings--only understood by +their creator. They were perfectly safe under every prying eye which +might light on them, and he could have left the keys of the box in +which they were kept at the mercy of any one, and known that their +perusal would leave the intruder no wiser than before. Not being a man +of letters, and being barely able to read, he had invented certain +signs which stood for words he had forgotten or never known how to +write. Of figures he had only a small idea, for though he had learnt +their character as far as the number five, his knowledge stopped +there, and the actual accounts of his shop were kept by a less +illiterate nephew, whose interests were bound up in his own, and whose +open and burly appearance suggested the best aspects of the trade. + +The old man rushed to his box that evening as soon as he had entered +his house, and began to search among the chaos it contained for the +record of George's debt. As the papers had not any sort of +classification and were stuffed into the bottom, one on the top of +another, to make room for all sorts of incongruous articles which +shared their home, it took Bumpett some time to find what he wanted. +He turned them over and over, smoothing out the creases with his dirty +hand, and peering into the medley of hieroglyphics which had been +difficult enough to write, and which were now trebly difficult to +read. They were of all sorts, but represented chiefly what he +considered to be bad or doubtful debts. + +"Owd 1 pownd bi Jamestench. he is in prisn. cums out Jooli. March +ateen forty 3." + +"Owd ileven shilns ninpens bi jane bull for last 5 munth. can't get +it. shes ded. ateen forty 4." + +"Owd from Gorgewillems. Rent. 3 pownd thirteen and fore. August forty +2." + +This last document also bore George's sprawling signature, and at the +bottom was added, "Made turms with im. James Bumpett." + +The treasure was found, and the Pig-driver crammed the other papers +back and shut down the lid. Then he took off his hat and put it on +again, a habit he had when under emotion; he was very happy. He went +below to a room at the back of the shop, and sat down with his nephew +to a comfortable meal, for they lived well. When they had finished he +took out the paper and, having raked a pair of rusty scissors from the +back of a drawer, he cut off the lower part of the page and dropped it +into the fire. It did not blaze but smouldered, the words "Made turms +with im" standing out in an orange glow on their blackened background. +He went to bed feeling ten years younger. + +He was in his best spirits as he drove out of Abergavenny next morning +with the precious document in his hand, for the sight of it gave him +such pleasure that he did not like to put it in his pocket, but held +it clasped tightly until he came within sight of the grey roof of +Great Masterhouse. + +He had never yet had any dealings with Mrs. Walters, but it was his +intention to ask to see her; he had heard that she was a person of +strict views, and he hoped to say a few words about George which he +had no doubt would make her turn him out of the place. The virulent +old man longed to see him begging from door to door. He meant to +approach her in the interests of abstract virtue, and to warn her +against employing a person whom he knew to be a thief and an +evil-doer, one who would corrupt his fellow-servants, and in all +probability go off some day of his own accord with as much of her +portable property as he could carry. He felt sure that a pious woman +such as she was would see the rightness of putting Williams to the +door. Though he knew very well that, for reasons of his own, he could +not prove his charges, he trusted that her severity would recognize +the need of ridding her house of doubtful characters. It was in this +hope that he drove into the back yard of the farm. + +Anne Walters was sitting in the kitchen with some knitting in her +hand, superintending the work of a clumsy girl of fourteen who was +washing a whole regiment of delf mugs. They were a sight to breed envy +in a collector of modern days, with their patterns and devices of red +roses, doggerel verses, and figures of John Barleycorn, Toby Philpott, +and other jocund personalities, but she cared little for them, and +kept them hidden away in a cupboard where no eye but that of the +strolling spider could espy their quaint beauties. The money she had +promised to lend Williams had been given him on the previous evening, +and she had agreed to stop a portion of his weekly wages until the +debt should expire. She was sure that she had done right in helping +him, and it was a pleasant thought in her mind as Nannie's face peered +in at the kitchen door. Nannie always peered. Though she had been +twenty years and more at Great Masterhouse, she still kept the +demeanour of an intruder, and her weather-beaten face came stealthily +round the lintel as though its presence were an unlawful act. + +"The Pig-driver's in the yard, ma'am, wanting to see you on business." + +"The Pig-driver?" + +Mrs. Walters raised her eyebrows. + +"Mr. Bumpett at Abergavenny. I hear him getting out of the cart." + +The girl of fourteen stood open-mouthed; a visitor was a more amusing +thing than cleaning china, and the water ran unheeded off her fingers +on to the clean sand of the floor. + +"Go you out o' this, girl," cried Nannie, pouncing upon her and +snatching up the basin, "don't you be gaping there an' the water +slitherin' down! Be off, an' take some o' they pots along wi' you, if +you don't want a tiert slap on your long ears." + +The girl fled with as many of the jugs as she could carry. + +Bumpett stood in the doorway trying to construct his expression into +one which might find favour with the opposite sex. + +"Good-morning," said Mrs. Walters in her cold voice, pointing to a +chair. + +There was a slight movement of garments in the passage which showed +that Nannie was listening outside. The Pig-driver sat down with his +hat on his knees; he had not supposed it would be so difficult to +start his subject, and he cleared his throat loudly by way of giving +himself confidence. His experience had led him to believe his address +irresistible, but he knew that people had to be "taken the right way." + +"To be sure, this is a fine big place," he began, glancing round the +spacious kitchen, "a proud place. I'll lay ye couldn't have paid less +nor the size o' five pound ten for that dresser." + +"I am not selling my furniture," said Mrs. Walters, inclining to think +that the business must be some intended purchase. + +"Oh, no, no. Name o' goodness! I didn't mean that," rejoined he, +laughing with reassuring waggery. "A fine figger of a lady like you to +be sellin' up! A pretty pass that would be." + +"May I ask what your business is?" said Anne, drawing herself up. "I +have a great deal to do this morning." + +He brought his chair a little nearer. + +"I've heard a sight o' beautiful words about you," he said, throwing +an admiring leer into his eye, "from this one an' that. 'Tis common +talk what a fine lady you be wi' your silk an' satins, an' your holy +doin's in chapel. Ah, a sad thing it was for the respected Mr. Walters +that's gone before to be leavin' ye alone. I'll be bound he hasn't +found an angel to match ye in the glorious place where he now is." + +It flashed across Mrs. Walters that the Pig-driver must be mad, and +she rose from her chair. + +"Sit ye down again, do now," he said. "I ax pardon if I be too feelin' +in my speech, but what can I do when I see such handsome looks an' +high ways before me? A man's heart will feel for ye, seein' ye so +unprotected. 'Beauty in distress,' ma'am, as Holy Writ has it." He +chuckled at his own aptness of quotation. + +"I am not unprotected," said Anne Walters, who was growing very angry, +"and you will find it out if you will not come to business or leave +the house." + +"No offence meant. No doubt eddicated manners seem queer to ye in a +plain man like me," he said lightly, drawing the back of his hand +across his nose. + +"Kindly say what your business is, or go." + +Bumpett had fallen into the common masculine error of treating all +women alike, and it began to strike him that he was on the wrong tack. +His companion was no less sensible to flattery than the rest of her +fellow-creatures, but flattery is a dish which should be dressed +differently for every person. He took a less gallant attitude. + +"I've come to warn ye," he said, dropping his voice. + +But she made no movement to regain her seat, for she was thoroughly +angry, and she looked down at the eccentric figure of the Pig-driver +with an expression of disgust. It was years since she had spoken to +any one, except her son and the preacher she followed, who could +pretend to an equal position with herself, and the impertinent +familiarities of the old man were not to be endured. She debated +whether she should send for a couple of her men and have him turned +out of the place. + +"It's my duty, plain an' pure," he continued, nothing daunted by her +silence, "an' I've come from Abergavenny to tell ye what may give ye a +turn, an' show ye what ye've got about the place. There's a feller +name o' George Williams here, isn't there? Well, he's a limb an' no +mistake. A fine sort to be hangin' about a respectable house, he is!" + +He paused for a reply, but Anne appeared entirely unmoved by his news +and he began to get exasperated. He thumped his stick on the floor. + +"Ah, you women!" he cried, "ye're a queer lot! Ye won't believe a word +a decent man says, an' yet ye'll believe any scoundrel that comes +puggin' his forelock to yer face an' lying an' thievin' behind yer +back. Well, ye've got a rare one now. Ye don't know the life he's been +leadin'." + +Mrs. Walters looked intently at him. + +"I do," she said quietly, thinking of what George had admitted to her. + +The Pig-driver's blatant demeanour collapsed like a pricked gas-bag; +the shreds of it hung round him and that was all. If Williams had been +fool enough to place his own safety in the hands of the woman +confronting him, then he, Bumpett, was a lost man. In all his +calculations he had never pictured any one who would, so to speak, +thrust his own head into the prison door, and he made an effort to +collect his wits and to find out how much she really knew. + +"What were he tellin' ye about himself?" he asked, in a voice from +which truculence had suddenly vanished. + +"That is my business and no one else's," replied Anne haughtily. + +He ground his teeth together. + +"If you have no more to say," she continued, after a pause in which +the sense of his own impotence nearly drove Bumpett mad, "you had +better go." + +A wave of rage surged over him. He got up red in the face. + +"I'll have him in jail yet!" he cried, flourishing his arm, "I will! I +tell 'ee he won't bide here much longer. Look at that!" + +And he whipped the paper out of his pocket and slammed it down on the +table. Anne watched him with disdain. + +"Look 'ee here! Look 'ee here! D'ye see _that?_ There's his own name +to it--three pound thirteen an' four. Ah, but I've showed mercy on +him, I have! An' me waitin' all this time for my money. D'ye see that +date?" + +His thumb shook as he planted it on the grotesque writing. + +"Why should he go to jail if he pays you?" + +Bumpett's wrath turned into a fine irony. + +"No, no, indeed," he replied, mouthing his words and twisting himself +round to look up in Mrs. Walters' face; "he! he! true; true words, +ma'am. Ah, I see ye have a wonderful knowledge o' business." + +"I will call Williams," she said, "and tell him to pay you." + +"Pay me, will he? Not him! He can't," shouted the old man in a kind of +ecstasy, as he almost capered by the table. + +George came in from the yard at Mrs. Walters' summons; he stopped, +hesitating in the passage outside. + +"Come in, Williams," she said, with so little trace of expression in +her voice that he almost feared the Pig-driver had overruled her good +feelings towards him. The old man looked the picture of excited and +triumphant malice. + +"Mr. Bumpett has come to be paid," she said, as he entered. + +"I have," exclaimed Bumpett, "an' high time I was, too. Now then, down +wi' your money, George Williams! A rich man like you shouldn't hang +back! Where is it, eh?" + +He grinned at George as a cat might grin at the mouse between his +claws. + +The young man put his hands in his trousers pocket and, for answer, +turned the whole amount out on the table; three gold pieces, thirteen +silver ones and a fourpenny-bit. + +The Pig-driver's countenance presented such a blank wall of +astonishment that it was a pity no sufficiently disinterested +spectator was present to study it. His errand to Great Masterhouse was +proving so unlike anything he had expected that, for once in his life, +he felt himself undone. The weapon with which he had hoped to defeat +George had been wrested out of his grasp and turned against himself, +and he had no other at hand with which to replace it. He glared at the +pile of coin, wrath and cupidity fighting within him; the sight of the +money made him long to touch it, to handle it and appropriate it, and, +at the same time, he hated it because its unlooked-for appearance had +robbed him of his revenge. He looked from George to Mrs. Walters and +from them to the shining heap between them, and his grin fluctuated +and finally died out altogether. + +Anne opened a drawer in the dresser and took out a sheet of paper +which was lying in it, and a pen and ink. + +"Williams will want a receipt," she remarked, placing them before the +Pig-driver. + +"I can't write," he said, looking at the pen with an expression of +malignity. "I'm no hand at it, I tell 'ee. I'll need to take it along +to Abergavenny to my nephew and get it made out." + +"That does not matter," said she composedly, taking up the quill. "You +need only write your name. I know you can do that, for you have signed +the paper you showed me." + +She sat down and, in the same precise hand in which she annotated her +Bible, wrote: "Received from George Williams in full payment of debt, +three pounds, thirteen shillings and fourpence." Adding the date, she +pushed it towards Bumpett. + +He would have liked to refuse, but he did not dare to do so; he could +not risk disobliging a person who, for all he knew, was aware of the +systematic law-breaking which was the source of his income. + +She watched his unwilling pen forming the signature quite unconscious +of the hold she had over him. + +"Will you please to keep that for me?" said George as she held out the +precious receipt. + +She turned to Bumpett, putting the paper into her pocket. She belonged +to a sex whose natural impulse it is to hit a man when he is down. + +"Are you satisfied now?" she inquired, "or have you anything else to +warn me about?" + +George and the Pig-driver left the kitchen together. Once outside the +old man broke into a whirlwind of curses. Williams turned away. + +"Come back," gasped Bumpett; "I know what ye've been doin', ye lyin' +dog that ye are! Ye've been tellin' that high-nosed, preachin' devil +yer sins, have 'ee? An' you swearin' on the Bible when I made terms +with 'ee, an' now maybe lettin' loose the whole country on me. Well, +ye'll likely swing yesself, ye fool; that's what ye'll get fer yer +pains--damn ye!" + +"I've never spoke a word about you. I said no more to Mrs. Walters +than that I'd led a bad life--and so I have." + +Bumpett stared. + +"An' was that the meanin' o' what she said?" + +"I suppose so," said Williams. + +The Pig-driver climbed into his cart as he had done the day before; he +had never made such a bad business of anything. + + + +BOOK II + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +WHITE BLOSSOMS + +IT was on one of those days which seem to occur only in our youth, +that Isoline Ridgeway sat under a cherry-tree on the slope of the +field overlooking Crishowell Vicarage. The little puffs of wind which +occasionally lifted stray bits of her hair were scented with the scent +of may hedges; the whole world seemed to have broken out into white +blossom. + +The tree above her head was such a mass of shivering, semi-transparent +petals against the blue of the sky, that the endless perspective of +bloom held reminiscences of a Japanese painting. At her feet the hill +sloped down to the brook and the Vicarage orchard. Below, in a +declivity of the field where a spring's course could be traced by the +deeper green of the grass to a circle of wet ground, a crop of +marsh-marigolds held their cups vigorously above the succulent stems, +and green, tea-tray leaves, coarse children of the brown, +earth-stained water. Looking beyond the church she could see the +indigo outline of the Brecon Hills. + +Since the day on which she had left Waterchurch Court three months had +gone by, and Harry, on whose expected visit she built so much, had not +yet been to Crishowell. Not that this was due to neglect on his part, +for things had taken an ill turn, and Mr. Lewis, a few days after his +return home, had developed an attack of asthma, to which he was +subject, and been told by his doctor that only a complete and +immediate change would rid him of the enemy. So uncle and niece had +departed almost at a day's notice, returning in a month to find that +Harry had left home, and was expected back in a few weeks. + +The disappointment had been keen, but a sustaining belief in her own +attractions had helped her through it, and an inward certainty that +when he returned he would not delay his coming. Sometimes, it is true, +a misgiving would creep into her mind, for she knew that he had gone +to London, and the "fine ladies" who, in her imagination, peopled the +greater part of the metropolis, might be casting their lures to +entangle the feet of so personable a young gentleman. But her fears +did not last long, and she argued sensibly enough that these houris +would be no new thing to him, and that experience of their devilries +had not deterred him from falling down before herself. Was he not +fresh from the wicked city when they had first met? She would not +disquiet herself, and she did not. + +Seeing her so willing to return to the dullness of Crishowell, Mr. +Lewis had taken it as a good sign of contentment with her +surroundings, and he noted her growing inclination to outdoor exercise +with a pleased surprise; it seemed that, after all, her stay with him +was to be of some use in directing her mind towards healthy pleasures. +He was also a little relieved at finding her able and willing to +ramble about by herself, and apparently unresentful at being left so +much alone. His parish and his books, his archæology and his +correspondence kept him so busy, that a niece who expected much of him +would have been a serious inconvenience. He treated her with unvarying +kindness and courtesy, but he sighed sometimes as he searched vainly +for some trait which should remind him of her dead aunt, the wife he +had loved. He had always passed for a self-centred man to whom the +fellowship of his kind was trivial, but though his reading and his +duties now formed his world, there was a chasm in his life which had +opened years before he had come to Crishowell, and was gaping still. +As a mere tribute to convention, he would now and then delude himself +into the belief that he liked Isoline, but he knew in his heart of +hearts that it was only a delusion. He had not cared much for his +wife's family, and the girl was essentially her father's daughter. + +One of the first things she had done on getting home was to go to the +Pedlar's Stone to meet Rhys Walters, and before her departure she had +managed to get to the solitary spot to bid him good-bye. He had taken +the news she brought hardly, crying out against all the possible +rivals that his jealous heart pictured as assailing her in the +semi-fashionable place to which her uncle was ordered. But there was +nothing for it but patience, and he got through the time as best he +could. The Pig-driver, who kept him supplied with food, was also ready +to supply him with Crishowell news, and through him he at last heard +of the Vicar's return. Though the days were lengthening, and risk of +discovery was greater in consequence, he was at the trysting-place +when she appeared. He looked worn and thin, and it was evident by the +lines in his face that he had suffered in her absence. + +If one lover were away there was still the other left to keep her +amused, and it made her the more gracious to the one who remained. The +light evenings were no obstacle to the infatuated man, and he was at +the Pedlar's Stone daily almost before the sun had set, though he knew +that he was risking the little he had left to risk by his action. In +the night he constructed a sort of rampart of dead thorn-bushes, +disposing them so artfully around a little hollow in the vicinity of +the dreaded stone, that if by some strange chance any one should be +bold enough to pass by, he and Isoline would be unseen as they sat in +the declivity on the further side of it. He reached the place by the +most devious ways, taking cover wherever he could find it, sometimes +almost crawling along an ancient ditch which ran up the hill, and when +the beloved woman had left him, lying in the hollow till the descent +of darkness. + +As she sat in its shadow, the girl herself looked like the spirit of +the blossoming tree. Her white dress was spread round her on the +grass, and her shady hat dangled by a white ribbon from her hand. Even +she was impressed by the beauty of the thing above her as she twirled +a tuft of flowers in her fingers, wondering whether artificial +cherry-blossoms were to be got, and resolving, if so, to trim her next +ball-dress with them. She stuck some in her hat and put it on her +head, then, remembering that there was no mirror at hand in which the +effect could be seen, laughed and tossed it down beside her. A great +buzzing fly went past with a hum of wings; but for that the whole +world was still; everything was radiating life, and only the yew-tree +in the churchyard beneath her laid a dark spot on the uninterrupted +flow of light. A man on horseback was turning away from her uncle's +door. He must have come up from the road by a footpath, for she had +not seen him arrive. Her heart jumped, for it was Harry--Harry riding +away, having evidently been told that Mr. Lewis was out. He passed by +the stile at the foot of the field, and suddenly looking up, saw her +white figure on the slope. + +He sprang off, calling Howlie (who was by the duck-pond observing him) +to take his horse, and in a moment he had vaulted the stile and was +coming towards her. + +She awaited him smiling, a lovely colour spread over her face. + +"May I stay here?" he asked rather shyly, as he came up. + +"Oh, certainly," she replied. + +"I so nearly missed you," he exclaimed, as he threw himself upon the +grass beside her. "Your uncle was not in. Fancy, if I had not seen you +and had gone back again! Do you know I only got home two days ago, and +I have come the very first moment I could get away." + +"Have you been in London, Mr. Fenton?" + +"All the time," said he. + +Isoline sighed. "I should so like to go to London. Were you very gay?" +she asked. + +"Not so very," said Harry, laughing. + +"Did you go to any balls?" + +"I went to three." + +"Oh, tell me. And what were the ladies like? Did they wear beautiful +dresses and grand diamonds?" + +"Yes, I think they did. But I didn't notice much." + +"But what were they like? Can you not remember _anything?_ If I went +to London I should not forget what I saw." + +"But you are cleverer than I am." + +"Oh, I don't think you are stupid at all," she said, looking coyly +down at her fingers. "I suppose gentlemen do not notice the same +things that we ladies do. I hoped that when I saw you again you would +be able to bring me all the new fashions." + +"You knew I should come then? You did not think I should forget?" + +She was silent, turning her head away. + +"Isoline, are you glad to see me?" + +"Perhaps," she said lightly, swinging her hat which she had picked up +from the grass. She was so sure of him that she felt she could afford +to dally with the situation. + +Harry was young, and his face fell a little. "I don't believe you care +a bit," he said. + +Again she did not answer. + +He came nearer. "Isoline, will you marry me?" he asked very earnestly. + +A perfect flood of triumph and excitement poured into her heart, but +she made no outward sign of it. + +"Do you really mean it, Mr. Fenton?" she said softly. + +"Of course I mean it, darling!" he exclaimed. "Do you know one thing +that took me to London? I went to get something for you, if you will +wear it. Look!" He drew a tiny case from his pocket and opened it. +Inside was a ring, a diamond heart surrounded by little pearls. + +She clasped her hands together. + +"How lovely! How lovely!" she exclaimed. "And is that for me?" + +"Try it on," said Harry. + +She held out her finger, and he slipped the jewel into its place. + +"It fits perfectly!" she cried, enchanted, turning her hand round and +round, so that it should flash in the sun. + +"Darling!" he exclaimed, throwing his arm round her. + +"Oh, please don't! Some one might be looking. Every one can see you +from here." + +"But, Isoline, do you love me?" + +"Yes, I do indeed!" + +"And you will be my wife? You haven't said it, you know, dear." + +"I will," she said, still contemplating her left hand. + +"Look at me, dear, tell me you mean what you say. Are you happy, +Isoline? I am." + +She glanced up at him with her grey eyes full of sunshine. + +"I am very happy," she murmured. + +Then her look swam away into the far landscape and she sat rapt, +thinking of what was to come. The world she wanted was opening in +front of her; the man who held the key of it had put it into her hand +She wondered whether there might be lions on the threshold, and, if +so, how loudly they would roar. She thought that she would not mind +the roaring very much, if she could only slip by them successfully. + +The future was whispering to Harry too. + +"I wonder what your uncle will say," he remarked at last. "I meant to +have spoken to him when I arrived, but he had gone out, and so I came +up here to you. He can't refuse me, can he, Isoline?" + +"Oh dear, no," she laughed, wondering at her lover's simplicity. "How +could he? Besides, I shall do as I like." + +"You will never give me up, whatever may happen? Dear, dear Isoline, +you couldn't do such a thing, could you?" + +"What will Mr. Fenton and Lady Harriet say?" + +"I shall go and tell them what to say," said Harry valiantly. + +"I do not think that your mother will be glad," said she, smiling +faintly. + +She hardly knew whether this idea was agreeable to her or not. There +was a lurking antipathy in her to Lady Harriet, though she had +received nothing but civility at her hands; the strangely-different +point of view in small things which Harry's mother represented had put +her out. It had been uncomfortable, and she had not forgotten it. In +her mind the only recognized difference between well-regulated people +lay in their social positions. She rather resented the idea of a +titled mother-in-law whose simple behaviour suggested an +unconsciousness of her advantage. + +Her imagination flew on to her wedding. It should not take place at +Crishowell, if she could help it. She thought of Hereford Cathedral, +and the string of carriages and family chariots waiting outside the +close for the company before whom she would be playing the leading +part. She pictured herself in white satin and lace being conducted up +the aisle, and standing with the eldest son of a county magnate before +the Bishop--for no doubt Mr. Fenton would wish the Bishop to marry his +son; and finally, being led out by her husband to a carriage with grey +horses. She would have the wedding-favours an exact facsimile of some +she had once seen, bouquets of orange-blossom which had unexpectedly +put forth silver leaves, and which reposed on white satin bows with +silver fringe. She was quite certain Lady Harriet had never looked so +well as she would on that supreme occasion. There was only one dark +blot in all her eminently satisfactory day-dream, and that was the +fact that Llewellyn would probably be best man. He was neither +creditable nor conciliatory. + +She awoke from her reverie to find Harry's eyes fixed upon her with +such passionate love and admiration that she was rather startled. So +far she had considered him more as an adjunct than as any one +possessing a future of his own, and for a single moment the importance +of what she had done struck her. + +"I wonder how I shall like you," she remarked suddenly, and without a +touch of the flippancy such words might suggest. It was probably the +one original thing she had said in her life. + +Harry looked as if he had been slapped. + +"Isoline! What do you mean?" he cried. "You do not want to draw back?" + +"Oh no," said the girl quickly, "I only wondered if we should ever +quarrel." + +"Never," he replied fervently; "I could never be angry with you, I am +sure." + +So they sat and looked down upon the Vicarage till a black figure +crossed the churchyard. + +"There is my uncle," said Isoline, taking up her hat. "We ought to go +down and tell him." + +"Oh, not yet," pleaded Harry, "stay a little, dear; I shall always +love this place now." + +He looked up into the branches. + +"Is not the cherry-blossom pretty? Before you came, I was thinking how +nice it would be to have a ball-dress trimmed with it. Do you think it +would suit me?" + +"You'll look lovely." + +"And you will not forget my dresses as you forget the London +fashions?" She raised her eyes archly to his. + +He seized her hand and kissed it, and she made no resistance, for the +grass was high and the action could not be seen. + +It was long before he forgot the feel of the cool greenness, the touch +of soft fingers as he pressed them against his lips, and the dancing +of sunlight through the leaves overhead. Poor Harry, he was happy; the +heavens had stooped down to earth, and he had no misgivings. Such +difficulties as he foresaw were those that would melt away before the +fire of his constancy. How was it conceivable that any opposition +could stand against Isoline's beauty and sweetness? He thought of +Llewellyn's counsel and the day on which they had so nearly quarrelled +by the garden door; it was strange that he--so much cleverer than +himself--had taken such an extraordinary view of her character. The +recollection made him quite impatient, though he told himself in his +generous heart that there was no one like his brother, and that, come +what might, his marriage should never in any way shadow their +friendship. + +Time, he was certain, and a closer experience of Isoline's society, +would convince him that he had been mistaken, and he knew Llewellyn +well enough to be sure that, when such a change should come to pass, +his acknowledgment of his error would be complete. It would all come +right, and, meanwhile, life was bathed in an untold glory. + +Like all young, open natures who love truly, Harry was humble. His own +inferiority to the girl at his side was manifest to him as he looked +up at her through the grasses. His life had been, if anything, rather +more regular than that of the ordinary young man, for the extreme +genuineness of his nature had necessitated that some real feeling, +however transient, should direct his desires. Nevertheless, +temptations that assailed others had not stepped aside in his favour, +and it was a miracle to him that this creature, so delicate, so pure, +so refined, should be willing to walk out of the fairy radiance of her +maiden kingdom to join hands with him. The little demure air that +never left her, even when she had seemed most near to him, was a +charm. There was always a suggestion about her of not giving too much, +and he admired it as he might have admired the delicacy of scent in a +white flower. + +He loved refinement, though he could not distinguish between the false +and the true, being younger in his mind than in his years; and it is +the irony of life that a knowledge of valuations comes to many--indeed +to most--when it is too late to be useful. He had reverence in him and +a high ideal of womanhood; though it was a crude one, it was the best +that his youth and unanalytic nature could frame. The dainty calm and +reserve with which Isoline had met his obvious love was as if the +white flower grew on a height to be scaled with patience, and bloomed +to be touched by one hand alone. He was not the first to mistake +coldness for purity. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +A CARD HOUSE + +THE news of the engagement fell like a bombshell into the circle at +Waterchurch; to all but Llewellyn it came as an absolute surprise. +Harry's temporary attachment to any pretty girl who came in his way +was taken as such a matter of course by his parents, that the +attentions he had bestowed on Isoline during the few days she had +stayed with them were nothing out of the ordinary run of events. + +Mr. Lewis had made his consent conditional, promising to give it when +he should hear of the Squire's approval, and withholding it entirely +till Harry should assure him of the sanction. Isoline, to whom her +uncle's decision suggested a flying in the face of Providence, +relapsed into soft obstinacy, submitting outwardly to what for the +moment seemed inevitable, and covering a persistence which would +recognize no scruple with a layer of docility. Her attitude was that +of a sand-bag towards a bullet--it offered no visible resistance. At +the same time it was impenetrable. + +The Vicar had but little respect for the conventional view of +marriage. While he held it unwise for young people to plunge hand in +hand into the dismal bog of extreme poverty, only to waste their youth +and strength in the sordid flounderings which alone can keep their +heads above water, his ideas of the important things of life were at +variance with those of most people. He regarded the poverty which +necessitates some self-denial as a strengthener of the bonds which tie +those whose love is love indeed, and the outward circumstances which +(whatever they may say) are the things deemed most essential by the +majority, seemed to him to have a secondary place. + +He was an intensely spiritual man. Abstract things were more real to +him than the things usually called tangible facts. Though he lived in +a retired spot and kept so much apart from the world, his earlier life +had lain in crowded places, and he had studied men and women very +profoundly. His mental search after truth had been keen, and he was +one who liked half-truths so little that it irked him to have to mix +with those whose current coin they were. He would almost have +preferred lies. That was one reason why solitude was dear to him. +There was only one person among his neighbours with whom he felt +himself in true accord, and that was Lady Harriet Fenton. She was a +woman whom no expediency and no custom could ever induce to deal in +false values. + +The tying up for life of two people seemed immeasurably more awful to +the Vicar than it does to the world in general, for he reckoned with +things to whose existence little attention is paid. The power of two +characters to raise or lower each other, was in his eyes a more real +thing than the power of two purses to maintain the establishment that +their owners' friends expect of them. But while he held these +opinions, he had seen enough to show him that to hundreds of natures +the suitable establishment is all-satisfying, and will preserve them +in a lukewarm felicity until death parts them. He knew that strong +meat is not for babes. Isoline was a babe, but he was not so sure +about Harry. Mr. Fenton's difficulties were no secret to him, and he +was aware that, should the young man marry, he would have to content +himself with very little. Isoline, even when her husband should have +become head of the family, would scarcely be able to keep up the show +he suspected her of coveting. It was a point on which he resolved to +enlighten her. + +Although he considered him far too young to think of marriage, he had +always liked Harry, for his simplicity and impetuous ways struck him +less as blunt intelligence than as late development, and he believed +that, were he to develop in the society of Isoline, he would develop +away from her; his character at twenty-five was yet in the making, +while hers, at nineteen, was set. All this was more to him than the +fact that his niece would, socially speaking, be marrying well. + +As they sat at breakfast on the following morning with the windows +wide open to the orchard, he began upon the subject. + +"Isoline, I feel that I ought to tell you a few things you may not +know. If Mr. Fenton gives his consent, and I consequently give mine, I +suppose you and Harry will expect to be married before very long. You +have always had most things that you want, being an only child; do you +think you will be quite happy with less? You may think perhaps that +Mr. Fenton is a rich man." + +"I am not accepting Harry for his money," observed Isoline, with +dignity. + +"That would be rather difficult, my dear, seeing that he has not got +any," said the Vicar, with some dryness. + +She opened her eyes. "I hardly understand. What should I have to do +without?" + +"Well, I fancy you spend a good deal upon your dresses for a young +girl. Not that I blame you, for you always look very nice, and you +have seventy pounds a year of your own to be pretty with. Of course, +when you are here you are my guest, and you are no expense, for what +does for me does for us both. I think your aunt in Hereford finds the +same--and rightly." + +She nodded. + +"It would be hard indeed if you had not a home while we are so well +able to afford you one," continued the Vicar, who had denied himself a +much-needed carpet for his study in order to add a few luxuries to her +bedroom. + +"You are both most kind to me." + +"But, my dear, it is only right. All the same I cannot help fearing +that you may miss it. You will not have so many new gowns and smart +hats." + +Isoline said nothing, but she looked a little incredulous. + +"Harry's father allows him two hundred a year. If he married he might +possibly increase it a little--a very little--but I know that is all +he could do. Harry has no profession. Personally, I think that a +mistake, for, in my opinion, every young man who has not learned to +work has missed something, but that is Mr. Fenton's affair, not mine. +Between you both, you would not have three hundred a year, and, even +if a little more were forthcoming, you would barely have three hundred +and fifty. That is very well when a man has something to work at." + +"But why will not Mr. Fenton give Harry more?" + +"He has not got it to give." + +She looked dumbly at him, tears gathering in her eyes; her lips +quivered. + +"My dear, my dear," said her uncle, "don't be so upset. I did not mean +to dishearten you, but it was right to tell you the truth. We have not +heard what the Squire has to say, and something might be found, no +doubt, for Harry to do." + +He was quite glad to see her display some real feeling, and he came +round to her side and put his arm tenderly about her. + +"Don't, my little girl, do not be so distressed," he said, pressing +his lined cheek against her soft one. "If Mr. Fenton says 'Yes,' and +Harry is a man--which I am sure he is--we shall find some way out of +the difficulty. It will be a capital thing for him to work a little, +for he will want money all his life, if he is to stand in his father's +place." + +She wept on unrestrainedly, and her emotion touched him; it roused in +him a hope that he had judged her hardly. After all, he had possibly +often misunderstood her, and Harry's affection might yet bring out +things her education had stifled. Though the small interests of +provincial town life were bad training for a woman, they might not +have quite succeeded in spoiling her. But it was not for love that her +tears flowed, it was for a fallen card house. + +He spoke very gravely and gently. + +"You will have to do your best for him, as Lady Harriet has done for +his father," he continued, still encircling her with his arm. "You +will have a good model in your mother-in-law, Isoline." + +A feeling of dislike went through her as she thought of Lady Harriet's +plain clothes and the way she had tramped through the mud of the +farmyard when she had shown her the Alderney cows; she seemed to have +supposed that it would amuse her to see these dull animals. And then, +her strong boots! It was horrible, unfeminine. She had certainly worn +a silk gown at dinner, with a piece of valuable lace on it, but it had +been the same one each night. And this was to be her pattern! + +"I did not care very much for Lady Harriet," she faltered. + +"You have not seen her very often," replied the Vicar; "she is one of +those women of whom one can say that the more one knows them, the more +one honours them." + +"Why?" asked Isoline. "What does she do?" + +"Mr. Fenton has lived very much up to his income, and they have to be +extremely careful. There is a great deal of business to be done, more +than he can manage, and she is invaluable in the help she gives him. +She spends nothing on herself; her whole heart is in the place. If it +were not for her, I don't know that it would be in the Squire's +possession now." + +Isoline did not return her uncle's caress in any way, but she dried +her eyes, and went cheerlessly on with her breakfast. After it was +over she went out into the orchard, and strolled down to where it met +the brook. She stood for a few minutes looking disconsolately into the +water as it bubbled by; across it she could see up the sloping field +to the cherry-tree under which she had sat on the preceding day. How +happy she had been then! + +She pitied herself sincerely. The light which had glimmered before her +during all her stay at Crishowell had proved to be no better than a +malignant Jack-o'-lantern luring her on to the unsolid ground. But the +fatal step had not been taken, though she had put out her foot; her +uncle had shown her to what she was on the verge of trusting herself. + +She felt vaguely resentful against Harry. What business had he, she +asked herself, to entangle her in this way, knowing, as know he must, +that he had nothing to support her with decently? It was not fair. She +turned from the brookside and walked back towards the house. Howlie +Seaborne was coming towards her with a letter in his hand. He held it +out between thumb and forefinger. + +Though she had never received a letter from Harry, she knew by +instinct where this one had come from, and took it carelessly, +conscious that the boy was staring critically at her with his +prominent eyes. She turned it over as though doubtful of its origin. + +"It's from the young general," explained Howlie. + +Her disapproving face made him cover his mouth quickly with his hand +as though the words had escaped from it unawares. It was an +indescribably vulgar action. + +"Is there any answer?" she inquired. + +"Don't knaw," said Howlie shortly. + +"But did you ask?" + +"Naw; an' oi can't stop 'im now, no more nor if he was a lump o' dirt +rowlin' down the hill." + +"But who was he?" she asked, with a wild thought that Harry might have +brought the letter in person. + +"A man with a squintin' oye." + +She walked away from him, breaking the seal, and he returned to the +kitchen, his tongue in his cheek; he was a Herefordshire boy who had +only come to the place a few months before, but there was little he +did not know, and he was well aware that the messenger lived one mile +from Waterchurch Court. + + +"Darling," the letter began, "I cannot help writing to you so soon, +though I have not very much to tell. I have spoken to my father. I am +afraid we may have some difficulties, but I have not had the chance of +a serious talk with him yet, and I cannot quite tell you anything +definite. But, whatever happens, I will _never, never_ give you up, +and all will come right in the end, I know, if we are only true to +each other. I will trust you, darling, be sure, and you know that I am +always your devoted lover, + "H. FENTON. + +"P.S.--Oh, Isoline, how I love you! How I wish we were sitting under +the cherry-tree again!" + + +She could not help being pleased with the letter, it rang so true; and +for the moment, as Harry, honest and trusting, was brought more +vividly before her by his written words, she sighed to think of the +undeserved ill-turn her luck had played her. She was regretful as she +thought how much he loved her. What a smart air he had! What a +handsome, bright face! He seemed so proper a person--so like the +husband she had pictured as a suitable one for herself, that it was +almost a risk to sever herself from him. He was a man with whom any +girl might be proud to show herself, and he would, socially, give her +the place for which she felt fitted. The feeling was so strong that it +went near to overwhelming her more prudent considerations. Might it +not, after all, be better to throw in her lot with him? Though he +could not give her the riches she had dreamed of before her uncle had +shattered the dream, she would, as his wife, be somebody. But then, +she would have to economize, to deny herself--do all the horrible +things that Lady Harriet did, and there would be no going to London +and entering the brilliant vista of balls, operas, and dinner-parties +at which it had been her hope to shine. + +She had imagined her carriage surrounded by a circle of admirers, as +were the carriages of the "fine ladies" she had read about, while she +lay back on her cushions and listened to the hum of compliment with +which the air would be filled. That would never be a reality if she +married a poor man. A mere chance had brought such possibilities +within her reach, but they had melted away--snares and +delusions--leaving only a vision of drudgery and homeliness behind. +Small wonder if she had wept. + +She had barely enjoyed an hour's possession of the ring Harry brought +her, for it had lain in Mr. Lewis' desk since the evening before, when +her lover had broken the news to him and heard his verdict. The Vicar +would not allow his niece to wear it until Mr. Fenton's consent should +formally ratify the engagement, and he had insisted upon its being +returned. The young man had stoutly refused to take it back, and, by +way of settling the difficulty, it had been sealed up in a little box +and locked into the desk in which the parish money and one or two +valuables were kept. It had been a bitter disappointment, and it was +followed by a worse one. + +She wondered what her aunt in Hereford would think of her engagement, +and believed that, were she beside her at present, she would exert +herself much to prevent its being broken, her ambitions being more +social than pecuniary. She was really very thankful that Miss Ridgeway +was not at Crishowell, for the course she meant to take would be made +far harder by the lady's presence. + +She looked upon the doctor who had postponed her return for several +months as her own unconscious benefactor, and she cherished the hope +of inducing Mr. Lewis to be silent so that her aunt might never know +what had happened. She would consider Harry's proposal as a grand +chance, and would not understand at how far too high a price that +chance would have to be taken. There were troublous times in front of +her she could not but suspect; Mr. Fenton might consent, and Harry +would be by no means easy to deal with; but she had her uncle's word +that money obstacles would be great, and on these she would take her +stand with as much determination as she could show with propriety. It +would have to be gone through, and the notion made her shudder. The +gin of her own making might be closing round her, but, at all events, +she would have one frantic leap for freedom before the teeth shut. + +The letter lay in her pocket, and she took it out and re-read it; its +black and white page spread on her knee looked to her like some +dangerous document binding her to the fate from which she so desired +to flee. "Whatever happens I will _never, never_ give you up," it +said. She went quickly down the orchard, and, standing by the brook, +tore it into small pieces, parting her fingers widely and letting the +fragments float outwards on the water. They were carried along, +disappearing one after another in the little rapids between the +stones. A wagtail, curtseying with its feet in the eddy, jumped up and +twittered away into the green of the undergrowth with a parti-coloured +flash of wings. + +She saw the last scrap of the letter turning a bend of the bank and +sailing swiftly under the shadow of the footbridge, and then went back +to the house with a sigh of relief, unconscious that Howlie's eyes +were watching her attentively from the kitchen window. + +The boy drew a long breath of astonishment, and opened his mouth as he +observed her action. He admired Harry greatly. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +LLANGARTH FAIR + +THE generosity of those who admired the toll-keeper's excellent exit +from this life had placed his daughter beyond the possibility of want. + +Public admiration, which, in like instances, will often display itself +in ornamenting a memory that is already the most ornamental thing +possible, had been leavened by the common-sense of the Vicar. He +maintained that the plainest stone would be as efficient a background +to the proud record it bore as the most expensive article ever turned +out of a stone-cutter's yard. He also added that the sincerest homage +offered to the dead would, in this case, be the care of the living. + +The gentlemen representing the district were impressed by the view he +took, as men often are by the words of those who speak little, and +though their wives, on hearing of the decision, sniffed and opined +that any expenditure on the hussy would be a throwing away of good +money, they decided to take his advice and to leave its carrying out +in his hands. They thus had the agreeable experience of feeling +broad-minded and saving themselves trouble in one and the same act; +the situation had novelty as well as convenience, and they folded +their hands upon their ample persons in easy after-dinner enjoyment of +the good deed. Lady Harriet's was the one dissenting voice in the +general female opinion. In this, as in most things, she was Mr. Lewis' +warmest supporter, adding a private mite out of her slim purse; the +peculiar horror of Mary's situation left no room in her mind for more +creditable feelings. + +By the time Harry's love affair had come to a point, an arrangement +had been made on her behalf. Eager to work for her living, she +accepted the small provision made for her gratefully, while she +assured her benefactors of her wish to help herself as far as she +could for the future. She begged them to get her some decent work. The +little board before whom she was summoned was impressed by the +slender, firm creature, her gentle demeanour and sensible answers, as +she stood in front of them and made her request. Afterwards, one +member even tried to describe her to his wife, but the lady frowned +him down, pointing to the freckled miss who crowned their union, and +who now sat at her wool-work within earshot of the pair. + +But, in spite of the sneers and charges of infatuation for a pretty +face brought against the gentlemen by their spouses, she obtained the +interest she needed, and a place was found for her in a little +greengrocer's shop at Llangarth. The owner, an old woman becoming +rapidly infirm, wanted a girl to act as servant and saleswoman, +offering a home and a small wage in return for the help. The Vicar, +who was particular on the point, hid no part of Mary's history from +her employer, but it was received without comment as too ordinary an +occurrence to need notice. So one afternoon she started for the town, +a bundle in her hand and her new life waiting a few miles in front. + +She walked along, a kind of reluctance clinging round her footsteps. +The independent course she had asked for was near, but, now that she +had launched herself, she felt internally cold. + +Her new employer was a stranger, and the friends she had just left +seemed to be receding very far away. She looked mentally back on them, +as a traveller ferrying across to an unfamiliar shore looks back at +the faces on the brink. She could see the roofs of Llangarth appearing +in the green and blue of the landscape, and the smoke curling among +the trees. She paused and laid down her bundle, leaning against a +gate. A path which was a short cut to the town from the uplands of +Crishowell, ran, a wavy line through the clover and daisies, towards +her halting-place; and, though a man's figure was coming along it, she +was so much pre-occupied that she did not notice his approach. It was +only when he stood not a yard from her that she moved aside to let him +pass. The man was George Williams. + +Mary had thought many times of their parting, and, as the wound in her +mind began to ache less and her agonizing sensitiveness to abate, her +judgment grew straighter. She began to see that she had done George a +wrong, misjudging his impulses, and she sincerely wished her words +unsaid; but, being one of those souls to whom explanation is torture, +she had made no sign. Even now, though she longed to set it right, she +could find no voice for a moment. He passed her with an indistinct +word. + +"George." + +He stopped immediately. + +"George, I treated you bad when I shut the door on you. I didn't +understand. It's hard to do right," said Mary simply. + +"Then you bean't angry, Mary? Not now?" + +"No, no." + +Facing each other, there seemed nothing more to say. In their state of +life there are no small embroideries round the main subject. + +"I'm going to Llangarth," said the girl, with a clumsy attempt at +ending the episode. + +"So am I," said he. + +Looking down, he noticed her bundle, which he had almost rolled into +the ditch as he opened the gate; the four corners were knotted in the +middle, and under the knot was stuck a bunch of flowers--wallflower, +ribes, and a couple of pheasant-eye narcissus. + +"Have you left the toll?" he asked, taking it up from the clump of +nettles upon which it had fallen. + +She nodded. + +"I'll work for myself now." + +A pang of apprehension went through him. + +"Where are you going? You won't go further nor Llangarth, surely?" + +"I'm to help Mrs. Powell. Her that keeps the shop by the market. The +Vicar of Crishowell knows her, and 'twas him got me the place. I'll do +my best," added Mary, holding out her hand for the bundle; "let me go +on, now." + +"I'll go with you a bit," said George. + +They took the road together, looking very much like a respectable +young peasant family starting on a holiday, but for the fact that the +man walked beside the woman, not in front of her, and that there was +no baby. + +The ribes scented everything. Mary drew the nosegay from the bundle; +she liked to keep it in her hand, for the touch and smell of something +familiar was necessary to her as she stepped along towards her new +world. After the solitary position of the Dipping-Pool, and her +seclusion at the toll-house, Llangarth seemed nothing short of a +metropolis. + +"I'll be coming into market, time an' again," began Williams, after a +few minutes. "Would I see you, do you think? I have to go into the +town for Mrs. Walters sometimes." + +He spoke without a trace of anxiety, but he had been longing and +fearing to ask the question. + +"For Mrs. Walters?" + +"Yes," replied he, fixing his eyes on the road about a hundred yards +ahead. "I'm working for her now at Great Masterhouse." + +Mary bit her lip. The news surprised her, and the sound of Rhys' name +affected her as the word "gallows" might affect a reprieved man. + +"Of a Sunday," urged George, "I could step down to Llangarth and get a +sight of you." + +She was silent. + +"But, perhaps you wouldn't like it. I wish you wasn't so set against +me." + +"I'm not set against you." + +"But you don't like to see me." + +"I do; but----" + +"What's wrong wi' you, Mary? Speak out." + +"I'm feared of you, George." + +He swore under his breath. + +"Promise you won't ever speak like you did at the toll," she faltered, +"not ever again." + +Williams set his lips; his short space of prosperity had raised his +spirit, and he was no longer so much inclined to accept reverses as +natural events. For some time he had earned good wages, and he was +already beginning to lessen his debt to Mrs. Walters; in a short time +it would no longer exist. He was a different being from the +Pig-driver's sullen, dispirited servant. That hated bondage had +crushed all the instincts of young manhood, and made him into a kind +of machine for endurance. They now had freedom to rise in him, and he +longed for a little joy beyond the mere joy of his release. He could +not have framed it for himself, but he was craving for emotion, for +femininity, for love, for children, for all that might be centred in +the woman beside him. He picked up a stone and threw it smartly into +the boughs of an elm-tree. It was a rebellious action. + +"I can't," he said shortly, "and I won't." + +"Then I can't see you any more. You were to stand by me that day +when--after--at the river, but it's different now, it seems." + +"'Tis different. It's one thing or the other now. Oh! Mary, an' I +would be good to you." + +For reply she quickened her pace. + +George struck at the bushes with the stick he carried. In spite of the +good fortune of their meeting, in spite of the words that had set all +right between them, they had slipped back into the old place. The sky +had cleared indeed, but the clouds were rolling up again. + +They arrived at the outskirts of Llangarth without exchanging another +word or looking at each other; the girl kept her head turned away, +with that uncomfortable sensation that we all know when we do not wish +to meet the eye of our neighbour, and feel, consequently, as if we had +only one side to our faces. When a steep street branched down to the +market, she put out her hand timidly for the bundle, but he took no +notice of it, and where the pavement narrowed, he fell behind, so that +he might look at her unabashed as she went on before him holding the +cottage bouquet close. + +The town was unusually full, it being the day of a half-yearly fair, +and Mary became almost bewildered by the stream of passers. Soon it +grew clear that she had missed her way, and that the line she was +following would eventually bring her out near the river, some way from +her destination. George, who did not know the exact place for which +she was making, kept behind; she tried to retrieve her mistake by a +short cut, and, turning a corner, found herself in the very middle of +the fair. + +The place was a moving mass of humanity; country boys with their +awkward gait elbowing about among the trimmer townspeople, girls in +their best head-gear, lingering in groups in the attractive vicinity +of a double row of booths bisecting the crowd. A merry-go-round, whose +shrill pipes and flags assailed both ear and eye, creaked on its +ceaseless round of measured giddiness, and behind it a drum, high on a +platform, was being beaten with a certain violent decorum, which +announced that the action was no outcome of the performer's spirit, +but part of a recognized scheme. + +Far away from it a rival was found in a Cheap Jack, who proclaimed the +merits of bootlaces, tin-whistles, coloured ribbons, and a stack of +inferior umbrellas propped against the rush-bottomed chair which +formed alike his rostrum and his stronghold. His assistant stood +before him, keeping back the dense ring which threatened to submerge +him, and using one of the umbrellas for the purpose. + +The purely agricultural part of the fair had its stand on a piece of +high ground, where some fat beasts with indifferent faces occupied a +line of pens. In front of them James Bumpett sat in his cart surveying +the exhibition. Farm-horses were being trotted up and down before +possible buyers, the pig-jumps with which some of the young ones +varied their paces driving the unwary back among their neighbours. +Here and there a knot of drunken men rolled through the crowd, their +passage marked by oaths emanating both from themselves and from those +who were inconvenienced by them. + +Mary started at finding herself on the verge of such a tumult, and +turned back to George. + +"This isn't the road I thought," she said, "I suppose I must have +taken the wrong corner somewhere. I can't mind the name of the street, +but it's nigh the market." + +"Then we can get across to it this way," answered Williams, beginning +to make a passage through the crowd. "Keep you close to me." + +He shouldered a path through the human waves. It was a big fair, and +the inhabitants of other towns had patronized it largely; one or two +lounging youths with their hats on one side looked impertinently at +Mary, who was made more conspicuous by the flowers she carried. She +shrank closer to her companion; he drew her hand under his arm and +they went forward. + +They passed the pens where the live stock were delighting the gaze of +the initiated, and found themselves outside a kind of curtained +platform, at either end of which was a large placard. To judge by +these, all the most celebrated persons the earth contained were to be +found behind the curtain, and would, when the showman had collected +enough from the bystanders, be revealed to the public eye. The crowd +was so thick in this place that George and Mary found it almost +impossible to move, though they had no particular wish to see the Fat +Woman, the Wild Indian, the Emperor of China, and all the other +inspiring personalities who apparently dwelt in godly unity in the +tent at the back of the stage. There was a great collecting of coppers +going on, and the showman's hat having reached the fulness he +expected, he sprang upon the platform and announced that the show was +about to begin. + +"An' about toime too," observed the voice of Howlie Seaborne, who was +in the foremost row of spectators; "oi thought them coppers would be +moiking a fresh 'ole in the crown." + +For three months Howlie had kept Harry's gift intact; he had laid it +carefully by, resisting any temptation to spend even a fraction, so +that, when Llangarth Fair should come round, his cup of pleasure +should be brimming. He had already laid a shilling out on a knife +which he admired, but, in the main, he had gone down the row of booths +casting withering looks on such wares as displeased him, occasionally +taking up some article, and, after a careful examination, laying it +down again with quiet contempt. + +Sweets were simply beneath his notice, and he passed the places in +which they were displayed more insolently than any others. To him, the +merry-go-round was foolishness, and those who trusted their persons +astride of puce-coloured dragons and grass-green horses, fools; but +the mysteries behind the curtain appealed to his curiosity. He now +stood in the most desirable position amongst the audience waiting for +the show to begin; on his right was a stout, high-nosed farmer's wife +in a black silk bonnet. + +After a short disappearance the showman came forward carrying a stick +with which he tapped the curtain. It flew up disclosing a stupendous +lady in purple velveteen, with a wreath of scarlet wax camellias on +her head. She was seated at a table. + +"Seenyora Louisa, a native of Italy! The stoutest female living!" +bawled the showman. The lady blew a promiscuous kiss. "She will now +sing an Italian song!" + +At this the lady rose and took a step forward, the stage shaking under +her tread. She cleared her throat and began in a shrill treble, so +disproportionate to her size that the effect was more startling than +if she had roared aloud, as, indeed, one almost expected her to do. +The song was evidently a translation. + + "I am far from my country alone, + And my friends and my parents so true. + From the land of my birth I have flown, + And the faces around me are new! + + I weep and I sigh all the day, + And dream of fair Italy's shore; + How can I be lightsome and gay, + When perchance I shall see it no more?" + +"Well, I never!" exclaimed the woman in the black silk bonnet, "pore +thing! I always did say as I hated them furrin' countries, but I +suppose them as is born in them is used to them." + + "Waft me, ye winds, to my home, + Where my light skiff bounds on the wave; + My heart is too weary to roam, + And its rest is the wanderer's grave!" + +Here the exile turned her eyes upwards and sat thunderously down, a +pocket-handkerchief at her face. + +"'Tis a bad case, pore lady," said the farmer's wife again. + +"_That_ ain't no loidy," remarked Howlie shortly. + +"Hold yer tongue, ye varmint," said the farmer's wife. + +For once in his life Howlie was nonplussed; chance had thrown him +against one of the few people fitted to deal with him. + +He would have liked to make some suitable reply, but the eyes of his +neighbour were fixed upon the stage from which Signora Louisa's chair +was being removed. The curtain dropped. + +When it rose again the audience drew a long breath. A pasteboard rock, +much the size of the Signora, filled the place where she had sat, and +to it, by a rope, was attached a middle-aged woman, whose considerable +good looks had departed, leaving a cloud of rouge behind. Her position +seemed to have produced no sort of effect upon her, for her face was +as placid as if she were at her own fireside. She looked not unlike a +dog tied up outside a public-house and waiting for its master. She was +enveloped in blue muslin, which stopped midway between knee and ankle, +and left her arms and shoulders bare. + +"'Ere we 'ave the drama of St. George and the Dragon," announced the +showman. "The Princess, forsook by all, waits 'er doom." + +"The hussy!" exclaimed the farmer's wife, turning severely on Howlie. +"Go you home, boy, 'tis no place for decent folks. Princess, indeed! +I'd Princess her." + +Howlie smiled and looked tolerantly at his enemy, but made no effort +to move; had he wished to, he could hardly have done so, the crowd was +so thick. Awful puffings and roarings proclaimed the approach of the +Dragon, and the farmer's wife began to get nervous. + +Anything was to be expected from such a godless exhibition, and, in +spite of a high nose and a strict moral attitude, her heart began to +quake. As in the case of most women, fear made her angry. She took +Howlie fiercely by the arm. + +"D'ye hear me, boy?" she cried. + +"Oi feel yew, anyhow," said he. + +The Dragon had now passed the wings of the stage, and his dire +appearance was producing a great effect. The owner of the black silk +bonnet turned and found herself confronted by George and Mary, who +were wedged up in the row immediately behind her. + +"Help me out o' this, young man," she said authoritatively, but with a +suspicious quaver in her voice. "I don't think much of that sort o' +show, an' I don't think much of you, neither, letting your missus +stand looking at loose sights." + +Mary turned crimson. + +"'Tis hard to get free of this maze o' folk," answered Williams. + +"I'm going to try it, howsomenever," continued the farmer's wife, "and +you might lend me a hand if you be going too. My screwmatics is that +bad that I can't shove about me as I'd like to." She looked resolutely +round upon the crowd. + +"I'll do what I can," said George, beginning to push his way to a +freer space. + +The whole concourse having its senses completely centred upon the +Dragon it made but little resistance, and as long as its eyes might +remain fixed on him, it hardly cared what became of the rest of its +body. George's efforts were supplemented by those of the sturdy woman +behind him, and they soon arrived at the outskirts of the fair. + +"Thank ye," she said, as she mopped her shining forehead; "just you +take that young missus o' yours home. She's dead tired, I can see +that, pore lass." + +And she left them. + +George walked with his companion to the door of her new home and +parted from her. He asked her again to let him go to see her now and +then. She hesitated, and finally said yes. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +HOWLIE AND LLEWELLYN UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER + +HOWLIE SEABORNE, who liked to get his money's worth out of things, was +anxious to see the performance through. He did not pay his neighbour +of the black silk bonnet so much as the tribute of a glance as she +pushed her way out behind the ex-sheep-stealer. + +He had still a respectable amount of coppers in his pocket, and while +this held out, he had no thoughts of going home. + +The spectacle was assuming a very spirited character, for the blue +muslin victim was beginning to realize her situation and the Dragon to +writhe horribly. Popular interest was consequently rising to +high-water-mark. Behind the stage St. George had mounted a +spare-looking pony and was drawing a pasteboard sword. Bloodshed, in +the spectators' opinion, was the only thing left to be desired. + +Just behind Howlie stood two men who had been busy in the same part of +the fair as Bumpett, and were now stopping for a minute to cast amused +eyes on the realistic splendours of St. George. Squire Fenton and +Llewellyn had finished their business and were on their way to the +Bell Inn, where they had left their gig, but the hisses of the reptile +gaping on the stage made them pause to see the end of the drama. Both +recognized Howlie, for he had become something of a celebrity since +the Rebecca riot, and they had also seen him at Crishowell Vicarage. + +The hoofs of the Saint's steed were to be heard clattering on the +slanting board up which he had to ride to the platform, for the +spare-looking pony was new to the work and seemed disinclined to go +on. He had been borrowed to replace another animal which was sick and +could not appear in the scene, and his rider, who, in a rough way, was +something of a horseman, had to use a good deal of persuasion. At +last, after some difficulty, he rode triumphantly forward to where the +Dragon breathed forth fire and slaughter. + +The Dragon, like many of us, was made of different stuff inside from +what one might have supposed. His interior was nothing less than two +small boys, one of whom formed his head and fore-parts, while the +other represented his tail; they were enclosed in padded straw covered +with sacking roughly painted to represent scales, and the front boy +had a little store of squibs and crackers which he fired out of the +monster's mouth as he went along. + +After being persuaded to get upon the stage, the pony moved forward a +few steps, while his rider waved his sword, challenging the reptile +loudly and advancing past the Princess to meet him. As soon as they +came close together a perfect volcano of squibs flew out in the +astonished beast's face, and he reared up so suddenly that the Saint, +who was lunging at his foe, almost lost his balance. The sword stuck +in a crevice of the Dragon's hide, and, though the blade was +pasteboard, the stuff, being rotten, was ripped open, and a great +patch of straw bulged out. Mr. Fenton and Llewellyn laughed, but the +audience, which had little sense of incongruity, was as serious as +ever. The Dragon, pleased to his inmost parts by his success, blew out +another shower. One red spark settled on the straw, then another, and +another. There was a crackle, an exclamation; the pony turned and +jumped off the low platform into the middle of the people, depositing +its rider at their feet, and the terrible scream of childish agony +rose from the two poor little prisoners in their shroud of living +flame. + +Women shrieked, the men made inarticulate noises and stared open-eyed. +One or two moved in the irresolution of stupidity. The Squire caught +at his son's arm, unconsciously revealing that dependence of which he +had never been suspected. But there was none to read the sign. + +Before any one could make up his mind what to do, Llewellyn Fenton had +bounded on to the platform and was stooping over the blazing mass that +writhed upon the boards, tearing with his strong hands a great opening +in the fore-part of the Dragon. The smoke was blinding, and the oil +and paint which coated the sacking gave substance to the flames. He +had got fast hold of one of the boys and was dragging him free; +through the reek he could see that his face was uninjured. But the +fire was spreading its venomous tongues down towards the tail which +contained another human life. One cannot do two things at once. He +looked round in desperation and saw Howlie's rabbit face at his side. + +"Tear it open!" he cried. "Tear it open!" + +A fresh burst of flame was blowing in his eyes. + +The boy he had rescued was on his feet, but the fire had caught his +shirt and he was trying to break away in the madness of his terror. + +By this time Mr. Fenton had come close to the stage; he pulled off the +thick coat he wore and tossed it up to Llewellyn. The young man +smothered the child in its close folds, throwing him down and rolling +him over as though he were fighting with a wild beast. + +The boy who played the other half of the Dragon was almost safe, +thanks to Howlie's efforts. He had broken out of his prison uninjured +and was free, all but one leg which was held fast. + +In order that the monster might lash its tail properly there was a +curious arrangement of steel wire at the point at which it began to +narrow, and in this the victim's foot had caught. The fire was +approaching it and his cries increased; his struggles were pitiful to +see. As Llewellyn had prevailed and was supporting one boy, more +frightened than hurt, the crowd's horrified attention was now fixed on +the other. It did not notice Howlie Seaborne, whose arms were plunged +up to the elbows in the Dragon's carcase. In each hand he grasped a +piece of the steel-trap which he was forcing doggedly apart. His face +was growing grey and his eyes stared; for almost the first time in his +life his mouth was shut. This was because he was grinding his teeth +together. + +The thing which takes so many words to say had happened all in a +moment, and St. George had barely had time to extricate himself from +his stirrup and to run behind the scenes. He now returned with a +bucket of water, which he held upside down over the burning tail just +as Howlie had bent the wires enough to set the prisoner free. The +water hissed and the steam rose in a column. + +A few people from the crowd had come up and pressed in a little circle +round the two children; the blue muslin lady was weeping +tempestuously. The showman, in his costume of St. George, began, with +Mr. Fenton, to examine the burnt foot. The boy was crying with pain, +but the injuries did not seem extensive. + +"Well done, boy!" said Llewellyn, as he came up to Howlie, very white +and smelling dreadfully of smoke. + +The words raised a ghost of the vertical smile, but it faded so +strangely that he looked down lower than the rabbit face. "My God!" he +cried, as he saw the arms and hands. + +The circle of onlookers turned round, and Mr. Fenton made an +exclamation. + +"Is it very bad?" he asked with some futility. + +"Moight be worse, a' suppose," replied Howlie, as he fainted into +Llewellyn's arms. + +The little group was becoming the centre of a dense mass. + +People who stood in their places while they might have been of some +use, now thrust their bodies between the fresh air and those who +needed it, after the manner of crowds. + +It was very evident that, of the two sufferers, Howlie was the worst; +pain was bringing him again to consciousness, and he lay back against +Mr. Fenton's shoulder, his face looking strangely unfamiliar; nothing +seemed to remain the same but a certain stubbornness. Llewellyn was on +his way to fetch his father's gig, and, as he went, he pulled off the +fragments of the dogskin driving-gloves which he had, by good fortune, +been wearing when the accident occurred. A man was dispatched to the +nearest doctor's house. The Squire adjured the bystanders to summon +the police, a request of which they naturally took no count, being +disinclined to have themselves dispersed. Two or three talked about +the Infirmary. + +Howlie's eyes sought the Squire's. + +"What is it, my boy?" said he. + +"Toike me 'ome to Parson's," said Howlie faintly. + +"Ah, the Infirmary; that be the place for he," chimed in a man who had +lately refused to go there himself when a drunken fight had laid his +head open. + +The eyes kept their direction and the lips moved. + +On his way back Llewellyn overtook the doctor, and the two drove up +together. + +Howlie's hands and arms were temporarily dressed; the left one was in +such a state that the doctor feared it would be permanently useless; +he hoped, he said, to save the use of the other. He was young and shy, +and he timidly suggested that the people were pressing too near. The +sufferer had fainted again. + +The showman and Llewellyn simply threw one or two off the platform. +The act was sudden and had a good effect. + +Soon the world came back to Howlie--a world of agony. Llewellyn bent +down to him in answer to an unspoken prayer. "Parson's, Parson's," +murmured the boy. + +"What is it? What does he want, father?" asked Llewellyn, pity in +every line of his strong face. + +"Poor little fellow, he wants to go back to Crishowell instead of to +the Infirmary." + +The dumb look grew more intense. + +Mr. Fenton seemed irresolute. + +"Parson's, sir, Parson's." Tears which the pain had not brought were +starting from Howlie's eyes. + +"What will Lewis say? Llewellyn, do you hear?" said the Squire. + +There was a pause. The blue muslin princess, who had left the +platform, was being consoled by Signora Louisa inside the tent; their +high-pitched chatter flowed like a thin stream behind the canvas. + +"Eh, Llewellyn? Can't you answer?" said Mr. Fenton testily. + +"Take him, father." + +"But Lewis?" + +"I'll go bail for him," replied his son. + +"But who's to look after him? Who's to sit up with him? He'll want +that, doctor, won't he?" + +"He will," said the doctor gravely. + +Howlie's eyes spoke again. + +"I shall," said Llewellyn. "Father, you can spare me." + +"Yes, yes. It isn't that. But where are you to live, I should like to +know? Lewis' house must be full." + +"Anywhere. The stable," replied his son, with decision. + +"Nonsense, boy." + +"You had better get him away," hazarded the doctor; "the sooner he's +in bed the better." + +With infinite gentleness, Llewellyn lifted Howlie and carried him to +the gig. + +"You must drive, father," he remarked. + +A gig is not a comfortable vehicle in which to carry an injured +person, and Llewellyn, who had no support for his back, had great +difficulty in keeping his charge from being shaken as they drove over +the cobbled streets. Howlie lay still, but he moaned faintly now and +then, and it was evident that he suffered much. Llewellyn's arms +ached, one side of his face was smeared with black, and his throat was +sore from the smoke; a round blister just inside his wrist which he +had not noticed before began to make itself felt, and the boy's weight +seemed to rest exactly upon the spot. He made landmarks as they went, +and mentally checked off each as it passed. "The crooked elm," "the +turning to Brecon," "the bridge," "the laburnum tree," and so on. His +father talked continually about the folly of his staying at Crishowell +to nurse Howlie, but he trusted to silence, that mighty weapon which +so few of us are strong enough to wield. His mind was made up, and he +knew that the Vicar would uphold him. + +"It's very tiresome of you, Llewellyn, going against me in this way. +What am I to do, I should like to know? I haven't any one to see to +the little things I chance to forget. Harry's at home, certainly, but +what use is he?" + +"Harry's no fool," replied his son, moved to speech by this. + +"I'm not so sure, with this senseless business about Miss Ridgeway. +It's all nonsense, I know," said the Squire, who was apt to treat +things he disliked as if they had not occurred, "but he came bothering +me about it a couple of days ago. I told him I hadn't time to talk to +him, and I haven't said a word to your mother yet. I suppose _you_ +know all about it?" + +"I thought it might happen," admitted Llewellyn. + +"Then you should have told me," said Mr. Fenton, with that +forgetfulness of the unwritten code of youth which comes to so many +when they have left it behind. "You and Harry give me more trouble in +a year than Tom and Bob have in all their lives." + +For a man of recognized good character the Squire told a wonderful +number of untruths. + +His son smiled, but not obviously. + +"Surely this niece can look after him," he continued, looking down at +Howlie. + +Llewellyn shook his head; his trust in Isoline was small. He had sat +up many nights with sick cows and horses and he knew what it was like. + +"And why not, pray?" + +"Oh, she's not strong enough. She's very young, father." + +"And what are you, eh?" + +"Well, I'm a man, at least," said Llewellyn. + +"A man!" Mr. Fenton snorted sarcastically. There was room for sarcasm, +certainly, only he saw it in the wrong place. + +They had passed the church and were driving up to the Vicarage gate. +Mr. Lewis was standing with Isoline in the garden, while a man put up +some bee-hives on a wooden trestle. That suggestiveness which +surrounds a wounded figure drew his eyes to the limp-looking bundle +Llewellyn held so carefully. He came forward quickly and opened the +gate. + +"There has been an accident," said Mr. Fenton. "It's your boy--the boy +that works here." + +"He's badly burnt," explained Llewellyn. + +Isoline had gone into the house when she had seen who the arrivals +were. + +"Howell, my poor lad!" exclaimed the Vicar, coming up close to the +cart. "Is he conscious?" + +Howlie's voice muttered something indistinguishable. + +"I don't know what you'll say, Lewis. He _would_ come here. Llewellyn +is responsible," said the Squire. + +"Of course we will take him. How are we to get him down, Llewellyn?" + +"He's rather heavy," said the young man, whose arms were stiff, "but +if you would hold him while I get out, father, I might lift him." + +The workman left his bee-hives, and between them they carried the +sufferer in. Isoline, out of sight, watched them from over the +staircase with horror in her face. Physical pain was a thing she could +understand. + +After some discussion, it was settled that Llewellyn should stay and +take charge of Howlie; he would take no denial, and Mr. Fenton had to +give in. The boy was to have a bed in a large spare room behind the +kitchen, and Llewellyn a mattress on the floor near him. Mr. Lewis +made no remonstrance when he saw how his eyes followed the young man. + +"I'll take care of him entirely," said Llewellyn; "you need have no +trouble, sir. I've looked after sick things often enough. You won't +mind letting me stay a day or two?" + +"I should even like it," replied the Vicar, laying his hand on his +shoulder. + +The cook was making things ready to get Howlie to bed, and Mr. Fenton +was anxious to start for home; it was long past noon, and he had to +send his son's things over from Waterchurch. The doctor, who was +coming out to Crishowell, was to call late in the afternoon. + +Isoline kept herself carefully out of the way; a meeting with Mr. +Fenton would be extremely awkward, and she had no desire to see +Llewellyn at any time. Her uncle felt sorry for her, though he +mentally applauded her good sense in remaining up-stairs, and he +slipped away for a moment to tell her what had happened. + +She was sitting by the window of her room as he entered, looking +rather worried; anything was unwelcome which recalled to her the +entanglement of which she longed so heartily to be free. The gig stood +outside at the end of the garden; it was by no means new, and though +the Squire looked carefully after everything connected with the +stable, it was a shabby article. Her glance wandered over it with +distaste. + +She was startled by his entrance, half fearing that he had come to +summon her to an interview with Mr. Fenton. She wanted time to think. +She had not made up her mind whether she would see Harry again, or +write to him, or whether she would ask her uncle to tell him of her +decision. The latter course would be the pleasantest of the three, but +there were difficulties even there. + +The way Mr. Lewis had taken the matter had complicated it. He had +seemed unable to imagine that an accurate knowledge of Harry's +prospects could make any difference to her feelings, and if her lover +should wring a consent from his father, there would be nothing she +could do short of breaking with him on her own initiative. She would +be able to give no reason but the real one, and that she hardly liked +to do. She dared not say, "I thought you were rich, but I find you are +poor, so I will not marry you." + +Her uncle might certainly make the objection for her with some +propriety, but how was she to ask him to do so? Though she had no love +for him, a certain respect had crept into her secret soul which made +her hesitate to lay it bare before his eyes; he took too much for +granted. She knew that her deliverance lay in the Squire's probable +disapproval, and that disapproval would make a suitable meekness +becoming in herself. Meanwhile she would neither see Harry nor any one +belonging to him. But it was all harassing enough. Her heart jumped as +the Vicar came in. + +"You may be wondering what has happened, Isoline. Poor Howell has had +a dreadful accident. It seems there was a play going on at Llangarth +Fair, and something caught fire; Llewellyn Fenton and he put it out +together, and saved the lives of two children. Howell's hands and arms +are badly burnt, brave boy that he is." + +"Fancy Howell doing that! I should never have believed it of him," +exclaimed the girl, whose estimate of human nature was entirely +feminine. To dislike a person was to prove him incapable of a high +action. + +"Mr. Fenton will be gone in a few minutes. It is wise of you, my dear, +to stay in your room. You are a good girl." + +She did not reply, but looked out of the window. The Vicar felt rather +chilled. + +"You are all right up here?" he asked awkwardly. + +"Yes, thank you." + +He went out. At the foot of the stairs stood the Squire, hat in hand. + +"I'm off, Lewis; it's getting late," he said. + +"You don't want any talk with me?" asked the Vicar, rather surprised. + +"I do, I do--but I will write," said Mr. Fenton, as he opened the +front door hurriedly. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +FOUR OPINIONS + +THOUGH Mr. Fenton had told the Vicar of Crishowell that he would write +to him, he was in no hurry to do so. Harry's love affair was a +nuisance, and he put off the consideration of it for a week, merely +looking askance upon his son when he came across him. To his wife he +observed that Harry was making an ass of himself, and it was not till +she insisted on his telling her everything he knew that the matter was +discussed. + +Lady Harriet was dismayed; she had hitherto understood her eldest son +so well that his evident admiration of Miss Ridgeway had not disturbed +her, for she classed her with the thousand and one other goddesses who +had shed their glamour upon him at various times during the last ten +years. They made a long procession, beginning with the little girls he +had admired in his early school days. His safeguard, so far, had been +that no one had taken him seriously. + +But now he had apparently proposed to and been accepted by a young +woman who knew extremely well what she was about, and one, moreover, +whom his mother, with all her good sense and tolerance, had not been +able to like. Putting aside the fact that she was anything but a good +match for Harry, she knew that the whole atmosphere of Isoline's world +was a lower one than that in which he lived. He was a man who, with +the right woman, might develop much, and, with the wrong one, +deteriorate as much. He was generous, loyal to a fault, and eminently +lovable. He was so affectionate that disenchantment by the woman he +loved would make him suffer acutely, and he had not hardness of +character enough to be able to make himself a life apart from that of +his daily companions. Sorrow warps natures that have no pivot other +than their own feelings; the centre is within themselves and all the +weight comes upon it. And what sorrow is there more grinding than the +knowledge that what we loved was a mean thing, what we admired, an +unworthy one, what we dreamed about, a poor and squalid shadow? + +There are small disenchantments in all married lives, but those who +have learned to look at the whole and not at its part know their true +value. The proverb says, "Straws show which way the wind blows," and, +like many proverbs, it is a half-truth. Some are merely rough receipts +for wisdom, made to save fools the trouble of thinking for themselves. +Though small acts undeniably give clues to many things in men and +women's natures, men and women cannot be judged on their evidence +alone. So much goes to determine a deed beside the actual character +behind it. When a man behaves unexpectedly, we call him inconsistent, +because every influence which has converged on his act does not happen +to tally with our private, preconceived idea of himself. But it is not +so much his inconsistency as our own ignorance of things which none +know clearly but the Almighty. It is the essence, the atmosphere which +a character radiates, the effect it produces in those who come in +close enough contact to be influenced by it, whereby a soul can be +judged. + +But even had he not been so much in love, Harry was far too elementary +to judge Isoline rightly or wrongly; it had never occurred to him to +look down very deep into the well where Truth sits, and, had he done +so, he would have understood little he saw. He would be elementary to +the end of his days, and the elements were all good. Whether they +would remain so with Isoline as an interpreter of life, his mother +doubted. + +The Squire, when he had brought himself to face the matter, raged +immoderately, and his rage had the common effect of driving his son +farther than ever along the way in which he did not want him to go. +They had a difficult interview, from which the young man emerged with +the stormy assurance ringing in his ears that he would get nothing +more than his ordinary allowance, and that, were he to marry without +his father's consent, even that would be reduced. He had spoken of +getting work to do, and been answered by a sneer which certainly came +ill from a man who had refused to give his son a profession. They +parted wrathfully. + +From the smoking-room in which they had met (it was after dinner) Mr. +Fenton went up to bed. Their talk had been late and continued long, +and the house was still as he ascended the staircase with his lighted +candle; the storm in him was subsiding into a mist of irritation +through which flying glimpses of other interests began to appear. By +the time he had reached his wife's bedroom door his thoughts were +circling round a speech he had mapped out in the afternoon and meant +to deliver at a coming tenants' dinner. + +The Squire could never be driven far from his personal interests, a +peculiarity which was at once his strong point and his weak one. +People who make houses for themselves and live in them perpetually are +among the happiest of mortals; the only drawback to their plan is, +that, when they are obliged to come out, they find they have lost +their eye for the country and all sense of proportion in the landscape +which they are accustomed to see only from the window. Oh, that sense +of proportion! If we had it completely what things might we not do? To +what heights of worth and wisdom might we not attain? The man who +could get a bird's-eye view of his own conduct would have no further +excuse for missing perfection. + +Lady Harriet's door was ajar and she pushed it further open as she +heard his step; she knew what had been going on, and was waiting. He +had not meant to plunge himself again in the obnoxious subject, and a +look of impatience crossed his face. She stood on the threshold, brush +in hand, her silver hair falling long and thick about her plain +figure; the glow of the fire behind her in the room threw up its +brilliance. He entered, and they stood together on the hearth. He +began to lash himself up into wrath again. + +"Well?" began his wife anxiously. + +"Your son is a perfect fool!" burst out Mr. Fenton, who, when +displeased with his boys, was accustomed to refer to them as +exclusively Lady Harriet's property. + +She plied her brush, waiting. + +"I did not mince matters, you may be sure. I told him my opinion of +him and his nonsense, and with a few facts to back it. He won't get +one extra sixpence from me--where is it to come from, I should like to +know? You know that as well as I do. Young idiot! I said, 'Look here, +boy, mind me. You make a fool of yourself about this girl and marry +her without my consent, and I'll draw a cheque every New Year's Day +for fifty pounds. That's all you'll get from me!'" + +He paused. + +"And what did Harry say?" inquired Lady Harriet. + +"Say? What should he say? Some rubbish about getting work. Work +indeed! I should like to see Harry work. I laughed at that. 'My dear +young man,' I said, 'you aren't fit to work; you've been an idler all +your life. What you boys are coming to, _I_ don't know.'" + +"I sometimes think," said his wife reflectively, "that perhaps you +made a mistake when you would not let him go into the army, Edward." + +"Pshaw! What nonsense! Really, one might think you were on his side." + +"I dislike Miss Ridgeway, and should dislike beyond all to see him +married to her. Have you written to Mr. Lewis?" + +"Why should I write to Lewis?" + +"You said you meant to," replied she. + +"How can I write? I can't say to Lewis, 'Your niece is not good +enough,' can I?" + +"There is nothing of that sort necessary. The money question alone is +sufficient. Why not write to-morrow, Edward? We ought to do +something." + +"I must go to Presteign to-morrow. I shall have no time for letters. I +think it would be the best plan if you went over to Crishowell in the +phaëton, for then you could see Lewis yourself. Yes, that will do very +well." + +And Mr. Fenton took up his candle and went into his dressing-room. + +While her husband was on his way to Presteign next day Lady Harriet +ordered the phaëton. In more prosperous days this vehicle had run +behind a pair of well-matched fourteen-hand grey ponies, but these had +been swept away along with many other things on the tide of economy, +and a strong, elderly cob, accustomed to odd jobs, replaced them. The +old servant who sat behind was thinking much of these departed glories +as they trotted along, and wondered, noticing the care on his +mistress' face, whether she was remembering them too. But it was the +future that weighed on her rather than the past. + +She did not look forward to her errand, and the feeling that it was +not hers by right made it all the more disagreeable. She stayed +herself up by thinking that with no one could she enter on a difficult +subject so well as with the Vicar. + +Her sincere hope was that she would not be called upon to see Isoline. +Though she was so completely out of sympathy with her, she had that +pity for the struggles, the hopes, the blank, black despairs of youth, +the desperate straits of those who stand _in front_ of the defences of +experience, that she dreaded the trouble she was bringing her. Poor +though these defences are, the young have to do without them. We are +apt to forget that. But she might have spared herself. + +Llewellyn was still at Crishowell. Howlie was making steps towards +recovery, but he had suffered cruelly and was very weak, and though +the doctor thought better of his injuries than he had done at first, +hoping to save the use of both his hands, it was a slow business. His +dependence on Llewellyn was absolute, and the old woman who came in +daily from the village to keep the sick boy's room in order being +useless for any other purpose, the Vicar wondered what he should have +done without him. + +Isoline had been down once or twice to see Howlie, but her visits had +scarcely been profitable. As he began to get some relief from pain his +usual nature also began to re-assert itself, and the expression which +flitted on his face as he stared at her--which he always did--gave her +a sensation of not being appreciated. It was during one of these +visits that the wheels of Lady Harriet's phaëton were heard stopping +at the gate, and Llewellyn, who had gone to look out, put his head in +at the door. + +The slim, white figure sitting very upright by the bed turned in +inquiry. + +"It is my mother," said Llewellyn. "You would like to see her, Howlie, +wouldn't you? She is sure to come down." + +He disappeared in the direction of Lady Harriet's voice. + +Isoline made good her escape and slipped out through the kitchen and +up into her room, her face flushing. + +She knew very well that her uncle had been expecting a letter from Mr. +Fenton daily, and would not let his visitor go without reference to +it; he had been rather annoyed by the silence. She would not be +dragged into it if she could help it, and, as she was unable to act +until the Squire's decision had been heard, there was no object in +facing a needless trial. She snatched up her hat and ran down-stairs, +across the orchard, down by the brookside and over the bridge. On it +she paused a moment, then, reflecting that she was barely out of +earshot, turned up into the fields through which Harry had chased +Rebecca. + +Lady Harriet had quick feelings, and they were always stirred by acts +such as the one which had cost poor Howlie so much. She sat with him +for some time, leaving behind her, when she went, a basket of things +the like of which he had never tasted. He made an attempt to put up +his hand to his forelock, which resulted in a twinge of pain. + +The Vicar was waiting for her outside, and they strolled into the +garden. + +"Perhaps you have something to say to me, Lady Harriet," he remarked. + +"Yes," she replied. "My husband had business to-day, and he and I--he +couldn't come himself. Mr. Lewis, I hope you will not be annoyed at my +news, but this marriage is impossible. You know, I am sure, that we +are anything but well off, and he says he cannot afford to do anything +for Harry." + +"I know, I know," said the Vicar. + +"I am very sorry," she went on, "sorry if I am hurting you, my friend, +sorry for my boy, for he seems bent upon it, and sorry for your niece +too." + +"Do not think of me," said he, "and do not suppose that I cannot +understand Mr. Fenton's feelings. You have every right to expect Harry +to make a much better marriage; and, even were it not so, I cannot +quite feel that they are suited. I sometimes doubt if they would be +happy." + +"Will she be very much distressed?" inquired Lady Harriet. "I know her +so little. But one hates to give pain to people, especially young +people who hope so much from life." + +"I hardly know her better than you do, that is the truth." + +"She seems a very unlikely niece for you to have," said his companion, +after a pause. + +Mr. Lewis smiled. "I very often do not understand her," he said, with +a sigh. + +"Do you think I ought to see her?" hazarded she, throwing herself upon +the point she dreaded; "it seems so unkind not to say a word to her. +What shall I do?" + +She stopped short in their walk. + +The Vicar did not know what to say. He had been unable to get any +response to his own sympathy when Isoline had wept at breakfast, but +he thought that perhaps another woman might help her when he could +not. Then he remembered that she had said she did not care for Lady +Harriet. He was puzzled. + +"I will find her," he said, "but if she feels she cannot speak about +it, you will understand, will you not?" + +"Poor child, of course. If you knew how I hate this, Mr. Lewis!" + +He went into the house and she returned to Howlie's room. Isoline was +not to be found anywhere. He went all over the Vicarage, into the +orchard, down to the brook, and, finally, gave up the search. + +"I do not know where Isoline is," said he, as he stood by Howlie's +bedside. "I have looked everywhere." + +The window fronted towards the water and the fields; the sill was low +and Howlie could see over it into the green beyond. + +"Oi seed 'er 'alf-an-hour ago," said he, "slinkin' out an' up into +they meadows. Goin' fast she was too, for 'er." + +"Are you sure it was Miss Ridgeway?" inquired the Vicar. + +"S'pose oi am. There ain't many round 'ere 'as theire noses in the air +loike miss." + +Llewellyn bit his lip. + +"She has evidently gone off for a long walk," explained Mr. Lewis, +rather embarrassed. "She has taken to it so much since she has been +here, and I have encouraged it." + +"It is such a great thing when girls like it," responded Lady Harriet, +anxious to say something pleasant; "I have always thought they are +kept too much in the house." + +She was so much relieved that she could have given thanks to Heaven +aloud. + +"It's a funny thing miss didn't want to see the loidy," observed +Howlie to Llewellyn after the phaëton had rolled away. Since his +illness he had become very much at home with the young man. + +"Does she like visitors?" inquired Llewellyn, with a view of drawing +him out. + +"She don't like yew," said Howlie. + +"How do you know?" + +Howlie looked infinitely subtle, as subtle as a person with a rabbit +mouth can look--but took no notice of the question. + +"She loikes the young general, though." + +"Who?" asked his companion, with much interest. + +"Yewre brother. 'Im as is with the soljers an' comes 'ere now an' +again. Oi saw them coming down the fields the other day. They'd been +sitting up by the cherry-tree. 'E was lookin' at 'er soime as father +looks at a jug o' beer after e's dug six foot of a groive." + +"You talk too much, boy," observed Llewellyn, with an attempt at +dignity. + +"Oi don't, mostly. But oi 'aven't no objection to talkin' to yew," +said Howlie reassuringly. + +"Miss is a rare one," he began again, "can't moike nothin' out of 'er. +One day she'll be off walkin' an' not get 'ome till dark an' long +after. 'Nother day, if Parson do call 'er to come out i' the orchard, +she'll go steppin' loike a turkey i' the long grass. 'Froid of 'er +dress, looks loike, an' yet oi've seed 'er come back with 'er +petticoats scram-full o' broiers an' mud." + +"Well, she knows her own business best and it's none of ours," said +Llewellyn, inwardly curious and outwardly correct. + +"Yewre roight there. She knows 'er own moind, she does. Moy! she was +pleased when she went wi' Parson to Waterchurch, an' yew should a' +seen 'er when she come back, too. Nothin' weren't good enough for 'er. +Ye'd a' thought the 'ouse was a work'ouse, an' me an' cook an' Parson +was the paupers in it, she was that 'oigh wi' us." + +Llewellyn turned his back. He did not want to laugh, yet his mouth +widened in spite of him. + +"Now, stop talking," he said, "you've had enough excitement to-day and +you'll get tired." + +"She's after the young general," added Howlie coarsely. + +But his information was not up to date. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +A MARTYR + +ISOLINE was panting when she arrived at the top of the field behind +Crishowell Vicarage. She sat for a time to rest, looking down at the +cherry-tree whose blossoms were beginning to strew the grass beneath +it. It was a still day and she could hear her uncle's voice calling +her name from the orchard. She rose and flitted along the hedge like a +wild bird. Before her, the Twmpa's shoulder rose out of the green +plateau, restful and solid. Even to her unresponsive mind it suggested +peace and a contrast to the worries on which she had just turned her +back. The whole afternoon was before her; she needed no excuse for +absenting herself. Had the Vicar not applauded her for remaining +unseen when Mr. Fenton had appeared the week before? Lady Harriet +would start for home fairly early if she wished to get to Waterchurch +by a reasonable hour, and she knew that her uncle had visits that +would take him out as soon as the guest had left. The day was her own +and the Pedlar's Stone was over there in its place a couple of miles +away; as the sun declined the little hollow below the sheltering +brushwood would have its waiting, watching occupant. It was Wednesday, +too, which, inasmuch as it was one of Mr. Lewis' visiting days in the +direction of the Wye, she often spent at the trysting-place. She was +harassed, and she felt that Rhys would put her troubles temporarily +out of her head. + +She lingered on the plateau, scanning the long expanse of green for +sign of a human figure, and, seeing none, pressed forward, and turned +down into the ill-famed bit of ground. She passed the stone and +approached the little hollow from a different direction, stepping so +softly on the short turf that Rhys did not hear her footstep. She +stood looking down. His back was turned to her as he sat, and he was +gazing intently at something in his hand. While she looked he carried +it to his lips again and again. As he did so she made a slight +movement. + +He sprang up, and seeing her, dropped his treasure, and came up the +side of the hollow to meet her. She recognized a little daguerreotype +of herself that she had once given him. + +"Is that the way you treat my picture, Mr. Kent?" she exclaimed, the +little playful gaiety which so attracted him returning to her with his +presence. + +"Don't say, 'Mr. Kent.' Why will you never call me by my name?" said +Rhys. + +"I do not know it, you see." + +"I mean my Christian name, Rh----Robert." + +She looked at him smiling, without answering; he gazed back at her, +feasting his eyes. + +"Well, what have you to say?" said she at last. + +"I love you," said he. + +"But you have told me that many, many times before," she observed. + +"I am never tired of telling you, Isoline." + +"Perhaps I am tired of hearing it." + +"But you can't really hate it, or you would not come," he replied +without tact. + +"Do not be too sure. You cannot even guess what made me come to-day." + +"Tell me." + +It always pleased Isoline to see how completely she could work upon +Rhys; the very name of another man on her lips was poison to him. Also +she was really perturbed herself and felt that sympathy would be +supporting. + +"I have been very much disturbed," she began; "a gentleman has asked +me to marry him." + +Rhys felt as if some one had taken up an arrow and shot it straight +into his heart. The stab was almost physical. + +"Who is it?" he asked thickly. + +"Do not look so wild. It is young Mr. Fenton of Waterchurch Court." + +His lips were trying to frame a question, but he had not the courage +to utter it. She smiled. + +"I do not mean to marry him." + +For answer he caught her hand and covered it with kisses. + +"Please stop!" she cried, "or I cannot tell you anything. Do be +reasonable, Mr. Kent!" + +"You will not marry him! You cannot! Oh, Isoline, promise me! promise +me! Do not take away your hand. I will not let you go till you say you +do not care for him." + +"Have I not told you that I mean to refuse him?" + +"What? You have not done it yet?" cried Rhys, "and you said he had +asked you! What have you done? What have you done?" + +Isoline was a little ruffled; there was so much she wished to tell him +and so much that she dared not tell him, that she was finding it +difficult to steer between the two. + +"He asked my uncle," she said hastily. + +"What did he say to him?" + +"Oh, my uncle wishes me to do as I like, and, of course, I could not +think of it. He is so poor that he never should have dreamed of such a +thing." + +"Poor devil, I suppose he could not help it," said Rhys, feeling +almost kindly towards Harry now that he knew there was no danger. + +It is difficult to imagine what Walters proposed to himself in the +future, or how far he looked beyond the actual present. His higher +imagination once awakened, he attributed to Isoline every high +quality, and, like Harry, he mistook her inability to respond to +emotion for an intense purity of mind. So did he worship her, so far +did he deem her above him in every virtue, that she was as safe with +him in this lonely place as if she had been in the sitting-room of her +uncle's house. What could be the end he scarcely allowed himself to +think. Even were he at home, reinstated, he could not suppose that she +would stoop down to him, and as he was a penniless outcast, with no +prospect of anything but exile at best, his position was hopeless. +Every day that he stayed where he was he risked the little that was +left him, but he barely thought of that; he only knew that separation +from her would mean shipwreck. + +In spite of the airs of sophistication she gave herself, Isoline was +very innocent of the forces that actually sway mankind. Shrewdness she +had, and a very distinct determination to further her own interests, +but her knowledge was what might be called a drawing-room knowledge; +it had no cognizance of the larger things of life. Her dreams began +and ended with visions of new dresses, good position, power in small +ways, admiration--still of a drawing-room sort--and little likes and +dislikes. Of large hates and loves and hopes, abstract principles, of +the only things to be dignified by the name of real life, she had no +idea. Natures like hers are more safely guarded from the greater +temptations than are the salt of the earth, for these may fall and +rise again higher, but, for such as Isoline, there is neither rising +nor falling. + +It was seldom that her life had presented such a difficulty to her as +it did now. She was certain that Harry would make a determined effort +to see her, and she would give a great deal to be spared the ordeal. +She had eluded his father and to-day she had eluded his mother, but +she thought, rightly enough, that it would be a much more difficult +thing to elude him. Had her aunt been in Hereford she would have +begged to be allowed to return to her, but Miss Ridgeway's health had +not improved, and, a few days before, she had received the news that +her stay abroad would be indefinite. + +There was one friend in the city from whom she might ask the favour of +a refuge, and she had made up her mind, as she pursued her way to the +meeting-place, to suggest the plan to her uncle, and, with his +permission, leave Crishowell for a time. If this could be settled she +would depart as soon as her friend could take her. + +Harry's proximity had once made the place endurable, but now that it +had become an actual disadvantage, she was only too ready to go. She +would be glad to get back for a little to the diversions and society +of a town. There would be no mysterious admirer to amuse her, but in +all probability she would see Rhys again on her return, and even if +she did not--well, it would not make so very much difference. She was +beginning to be a little embarrassed by his demonstrative devotion, +and his clothes had looked so shabby of late, that the possibilities +with which she had endowed him at first were fading into the +commonplace. Hereford would be a relief. She was a good deal +disenchanted with things generally. + +They parted that evening only a few paces from the stone. The days +were long and light now, and he could not go with her more than a few +yards from its neighbourhood as he had been wont to do in early +spring. It was only as they said good-bye that she told him of her +possible departure. + +Poor Rhys, it was a blow; but the thought that it was struck to escape +Harry's importunities softened it a great deal. Her absence would not +be a long one, she assured him, so he let her go with a sigh and went +back to his hiding-place in the hollow. + +Isoline hurried along homewards. She was longing to see her uncle, and +to hear what Lady Harriet had said, for she knew very well that it was +not alone the wish to see Howlie which had brought her. She was +anxious to get his consent to her departure as soon as possible and +write to her Hereford friend, for the moment she should receive that +lady's invitation she would start. It was unfortunate that she could +not get it for a few days to come, for Harry would be sure to make +trouble before she could set off. Everything was most trying. + +She walked into the Vicarage to find Mr. Lewis in his study. + +"You have had a long walk," he said, looking at her over the top of +his book. + +"Yes," she replied, "I have been up near the foot of the mountain." + +"I called for you once or twice; Lady Harriet Fenton was here, and she +asked to see you, but you had gone." + +"Oh, did you, uncle?" + +"Poor child," said the old man, taking off his glasses and laying down +his book, "it has been very hard for you, I know." + +"Did she say anything about me, uncle?" + +"She did. I am afraid, my little girl, I have not very pleasant news +for you. Mr. Fenton is not going to make any provision for Harry which +would enable him to marry. In fact, he cannot afford to do it. And +such being the case, he will not give his consent." + +She looked out of the window at the fading light. + +"Then I suppose there is nothing to be done," she said, taking up her +hat, which she had laid upon a chair as she came in. + +He had not expected such entire and unprotesting submission, and he +was rather surprised; he watched her as she went to the door, rather +expecting to see her composure give some sign of wavering. She paused, +her fingers on the handle. + +"Uncle," she began, "I wish I could go away from here for a little." + +"It would not be a bad plan," said he, after a moment's thought, "but +what can we do? Your aunt is away, you see, and there seems no +prospect of her coming back." + +"There is Mrs. Johnson. Could I not go to her? There was an idea of my +staying there before it was arranged that I should come here. She has +often invited me. You know her, uncle. Could you not ask her to take +me for a short time? I want to get away, indeed I do." + +The Vicar thought that he detected emotion in her voice. + +"Isoline, are you very unhappy about this? You say so little, my dear. +I am so sorry for you, and I wish I could help you." + +"I can bear anything if I can only get away," said the girl. + +"Well, I will write," said he, "I believe you are acting wisely." + +"And ask her to let me come as soon as possible. I feel--I think--the +change will be good. And I do not want to see any one, or to talk +about what has happened. I need not, uncle, need I? Mr. Harry Fenton +will not come here, will he?" Her voice trembled a little. + +"Come here, child," said he, holding out his hand, "and do not be +afraid to speak out. You are going away to avoid seeing Harry again, +are you not?" + +A direct question demands a direct answer, and she hardly felt +prepared to give one; she did not know to what it might commit her. +She hesitated. + +"I had rather not see him," she said at last, slipping her hand out of +the Vicar's; "must I do it?" + +"Well, I think so, if he wishes it," he said slowly; "you are +certainly doing sensibly in taking Mr. Fenton's refusal of consent as +final, for, in marrying, you would be condemning yourself to a life of +poverty which you are not fitted to endure. But, though you now wish +to free yourself, remember that you accepted Harry. If he wants to +hear your decision from your own lips, I think he has a right to do +so." + +"But why should he?" she asked plaintively, "surely he can believe you +when you tell him, uncle?" + +"Surely, my dear, if you ever loved him at all, you will understand +how he feels." + +"I think it will be very inconsiderate of him if he comes here and +makes a fuss when he knows it is impossible." + +"People are sometimes inconsiderate when they are in trouble--young +people especially." + +"Then they ought not to be so," replied Isoline, with decision. + +She was accustomed to carry about little moral precepts to protect her +from difficulties, as other people carried umbrellas to protect them +from the rain. When the difficulties came down undeserved upon her +head, she would take one out and unfurl it, so to speak. + +Mr. Lewis smiled faintly; he had some perception of ironies. + +"Do you not think that _you_ are being a little inconsiderate? You may +be in trouble, but somehow I do not fancy your trouble is so great as +Harry's." + +His voice had meaning in the last part of his sentence. + +A look of dislike shot at him which was hidden by the dusk pervading +the room. + +"Then I must see him?" she said. + +"You can do as you like," said the Vicar, returning to his book, "but +I think you ought to." + +As the door closed behind her he reflected that he had never before +come so near to understanding his niece. + +Isoline ran up to her room, controlling herself with difficulty as she +went; when she reached the door she darted in and locked it. + +"Every one is against me--every one!" she sobbed as she sat down upon +the bed. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE HALF LOAF + +HARRY was in a terrible state. Nevertheless, though he kept carefully +out of his father's way, he poured out the tumult of his heart to his +mother, for she had told him of her visit to Crishowell, encouraging +him to talk, and thinking it better that he should have some sort of +safety-valve. And talk he did. + +Late that night he was pacing about in her dressing-room, that +dressing-room which was so often the goal of those who sought to ease +their souls. The Squire fumed there, Harry brought various sporting +interests for discussion, and Llewellyn would steal up from the +smoking-room to thrash out farm perplexities. Bob and Tom, with their +regiments in India, found their minds turning sometimes to that +particular spot. The carpet was worn and threadbare, worn with the +coming and going of many feet. + +To give up Isoline simply never entered Harry's head, and, had he been +inclined to do so, the opposition he met with would have sufficed to +keep his constancy alight. Again and again did he assure Lady Harriet +that he would never, never change, breaking between his assurances +into rhapsodies over the beauties and graces of his beloved. He heard +from her that she had not seen Isoline at the Vicarage, and that +though Mr. Lewis had held by the Squire's decision, he had said +nothing about his niece's feelings. He was not disquieted on that +score, for he did not dream that she would not reflect his own +fidelity like a mirror. How could she, having made him such a gift, +take it back at the first breath of adversity? To think of such a +thing was to insult her. + +For himself he had no misgivings. It was hard, but what others had +done he could do; he could wait, and he would. As soon as he had been +to Crishowell--and he meant to go there next day--he would be off to +London, where he might cast about for work and take his place among +the bread-winners of the world. These intentions in a youth educated +to no special calling hardly seemed so absurd then as they would now, +for there were more snug places into which an impecunious young +gentleman could be hoisted in those days, and he had many influential +friends. + +Lady Harriet did not try to turn him from any of these resolutions, +and she kissed him with special tenderness as they said good-night, +but her heart sank in her, for she saw that he stood between the devil +and the deep sea. There was that in his face which told her that he +was harder held this time than he had been by any of his former +devotions. To lose his love would go ill with him no doubt, but to win +her might even go worse. She went to bed weary in mind and body and +with no zest for the morning; the household seemed out of joint, and +she missed Llewellyn. + +Harry reached Crishowell Vicarage next day to find Howlie sitting in +an easy-chair at the foot of the garden. He had been allowed to go out +for the first time, and was installed near the fence, where he could +see the passers-by and talk to strolling acquaintances. His face lit +up with interest as he recognized the approaching rider. + +"Oi can't 'old the 'orse for yew this toime," he said, raising his +bandaged arms as his friend dismounted. + +He had never wavered in his allegiance to Harry; though Llewellyn had +tended him, fed him, and stayed him up in his hours of suffering, +though he depended upon him, trusted him, and had remarked to the cook +that he was a "rare good one," it was "the young general" who had his +admiration and whose image had never been eclipsed by the younger +brother's more solid qualities. + +"S'pose yew be come to see miss?" he observed, when the inquiries +about the burnt hands were over. + +Harry did not answer. + +"Where is Mr. Llewellyn?" he asked. + +"Gone out. 'E says 'e's goin' 'ome to-morrow." + +"You will be sorry, I expect," said Harry. + +"Oi believe yew. Oi loike 'im an' 'e loikes me an' Parson, though 'e +don't think much o' miss. Be yew come to see 'er?" + +"Is she at home?" asked the young man, ignoring the other's +persistence. + +"Settin' up in 'er room." + +At this moment Harry looked up and saw the face of Isoline for an +instant at the window; it disappeared immediately, but not before the +two pairs of eyes had met. + +Vexation stood in the feminine pair as its owner drew back her head; +she had been tempted to look out by the sound of the voices below, and +in that instant her unwelcome lover had seen her. She had spent a +great deal of time up-stairs that day, her ears strained for any sound +of an arrival. She wore her walking-boots and her hat lay within +reach, so that she might run out as she had done before. It was not +perhaps the most ennobling way of meeting a difficulty, but it had the +merit of being extremely safe. + +For very shame she could not escape now. She grew quite hot, anger +with herself for her carelessness, with circumstances, with her uncle, +all welled up in her, and gave her some of the feelings that a rat +must have when there is nothing but the bare corner behind him and a +dog in front. + +Harry went up to the house and found the Vicar in the orchard. + +"I expected you," said the old man as the young one began rapidly to +explain his presence. + +"Mr. Lewis, let me see Isoline." + +The Vicar took him by the arm. "You had much better not, believe me," +he said; "it will do no good, Harry, and it will give you both pain." + +"If you think I will ever consent to give her up, you mistake me. You +believe you are doing right, I know, but it is no use, sir. I love her +and she loves me, and we will never let anything divide us." + +The Vicar looked into the honest, excited face, a face full of trust +without misgiving or concealment. + +"I must see her, sir, indeed I must," Harry continued. "If you were I, +you would say the same." + +"If I were you," said the Vicar, "I should do exactly as you are +doing. I haven't always been an old man, and I sometimes fear I have +never been a wise one. You can see her, Harry, but if you would only +accept this quietly you would spare yourself. She will tell you what I +am telling you now; she is an obedient girl, and she knows what your +father and I think." + +The colour died out of Harry's face. + +"You mean that she will give me up?" he exclaimed. + +"She has told me that she will not engage herself without my consent." + +A cold, intangible fear, like a breath from the inevitable, hovered +round Harry for a moment, but he would not realize the shock it gave +him. + +"She thinks herself that you had better not meet," added the Vicar, +averting his look and fixing it on a bough where the last blossoms +lingered in a ragged brown cluster; the bloom was almost over, and +every puff of wind scattered the grass with withering petals. + +"But I can't go without a word. Oh, let me see her! Beg her to speak +to me, Mr. Lewis. I saw her at the window as I came in. It is only for +a moment--it is so little to ask." + +"Well, if you must, I will tell her. Oh, Harry, Harry, but you have +made a mistake!" exclaimed the Vicar, unable to repress himself +entirely as he turned away. + +"I suppose Mr. Fenton wants to see me," said Miss Ridgeway as she came +down, her face set, in obedience to the summons. + +"He does, and you must see him," he replied, with decision. "Go into +my study and I will send him there." + +She went in, her nostrils quivering; the unfairness of the world had +never been so plain to her. + +"Dearest," cried Harry, when he had shut the door behind him, "it +isn't true, is it? You can't mean to break with me altogether?" + +He came closer to her, and took her two hands; they were quite cold. + +"Your father has refused his consent," she said, with a little drawing +back of her head, "and so has my uncle." + +He let the hands fall. + +"And so it is all over?" he said almost breathlessly. + +"It is not my fault. What can I do?" + +She had entered the room feeling that it would be a simple matter to +cut the cord without remorse, for it seemed to her that Harry had +cheated her, and her sense of justice smarted. She had shrunk from +seeing him, but being forced to do so, she would have small +compunction. Now it surprised her to find that her resolution was +hardly what it had been before she saw him, they had not met since the +day she had accepted him, and his actual presence began to affect her +a little. Things are so easy when we rehearse them with only ourselves +for audience, but they have a hideous knack of complicating themselves +when the curtain is up and the play begins. Isoline realized with a +pang that she liked him very much--more than she had remembered, in +fact. + +"And so you do not care for me after all," he said, looking at her +with eyes in which tears had gathered in spite of his efforts to keep +them back. + +"It is not that," faltered she. + +"What is it then? Can't you wait for me? Can't you trust me? It will +all come right in the end if we only have patience," said the man, who +was surely one of the least appropriate apostles of patience in the +kingdom. "I can work. I shall have to go to London and see what I can +get to do. I would do _anything_ for you, Isoline, darling. It would +not matter if we began in a humble way, would it, once we had +something settled to go upon? We should be much, much happier than +many who are rich." + +It was hardly the picture to move her. + +"But your father will not help you." + +"No, he won't. I should have to depend entirely upon my work. If I +marry without his consent, he says he will give me fifty pounds a +year--not even what I have now. But, once I am married and working for +myself, I hardly think he will keep to that. It's a risk, I know. But +I would run any risk, dear. Perhaps it isn't fair to ask you to do it, +though," he added, with a sigh. "Isoline, you can never love me as I +love you." + +"It is unkind of you to speak like that," said she, with an attractive +little note of dignity; "if you are in trouble, so am I." + +He took her hand again with an exclamation of self-reproach; one of +her most useful weapons was her aptitude for making other people feel +themselves in the wrong. + +"Dearest, I forget everything but my own unhappiness," he said +penitently. + +"It is really dreadful," exclaimed Isoline. "How happy I was the day +that you came here, and now it is all spoilt!" + +"But it can never be spoilt as long as we love each other," cried he. +"Isoline, darling, only be true to me, and some day we shall be +together." + +"I can't promise anything. How can I when my uncle forbids it?" + +Poor Harry, beating against the door that never resisted, yet never +opened, felt helpless. But he gathered himself together. + +"Then let us do without promising," he urged, "only tell me this. If +anything should happen to make it possible--if I get on--will you let +me come back? I shall never lose hope if you do not forget me, and I +can feel there is a chance still." + +It is easy enough to promise to remember any one, and this arrangement +struck her as very suitable; it was, in other words, almost what she +would have proposed herself, for she liked Harry. She assented +readily. + +When they parted he went out to the Vicar, who was still in the +orchard. + +"Good-bye," he said, holding out his hand, "I am glad I saw her after +all. I am much happier now." + +And he left the old man wondering at the hopefulness on his face. + +Presently Isoline stepped out, cool and dainty, into the greenness of +the orchard. + +"I have told him that I cannot bind myself without your consent, +uncle," she said in her clear voice. And the Vicar wondered more. + +As for Harry, he turned his head towards Waterchurch with a not +unhappy heart. Certainly his interview had not been all that he had +hoped, but he was brave, and a settled purpose upholds a man much. +And, as we all know, half a loaf is better than no bread. + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +NANNIE SEES HER DUTY + +ALTHOUGH the Pig-driver, as he sat in his cart at Llangarth Fair, was +mainly concerned with the prospective beef, mutton, and pork collected +before him, he found time to notice other things. One of these was +George Williams, steering his way through the crowd with Mary +Vaughan's arm in his. + +He looked after them as they passed, all unconscious of his eyes, and, +when they were lost in the mass of human beings and had disappeared +from the range of his vision, he still remained in so pre-occupied a +state that his bargains were in danger of suffering. + +It was evident that his former dependent "had a young woman"; a +result, no doubt, of his prosperity at Great Masterhouse; perhaps he +would soon be setting up a home of his own, perhaps he was even buying +things at the fair for his wedding. + +For years James Bumpett had known no shame, but the nearest approach +to it assailed him as he saw Williams, well-dressed, happy, and +evidently with his private affairs on hand, a living witness to the +limits of his own power. + +The thought hit him in a spot in which most of us are vulnerable. +People who love power may be sublime, to others as well as to +themselves, so long as they are able to get it; when they are not, +they become ridiculous, principally to others. His business done, he +drove away, plunged in his own thoughts. How he wished that the +high-and-mighty mistress of Great Masterhouse had been in the fair to +see her favourite servant walking about with the girl who had led her +only son astray. Not that the Pig-driver thought much of such +deviations from the straight path as Rhys had made, but he knew that +Mrs. Walters did. The idea of her at a fair was so impossible that he +smiled at his own futility; but she should know of it, and the next +time he met Nannie Davis he would take care that she heard of George's +doings. + +Nannie did not like Williams, her admiration being given to more +lively characters. Her own youth had been cheerful, to say the least +of it, and she despised those who lost their opportunities in that +way. His gravity and quietness annoyed her, and the high place he had +taken in Mrs. Walters' estimation made her jealous. Her personal +devotion was not given so much to her mistress as to the family she +had served so long, but she could not away with the notion of any one +else being important to it. + +This did not escape Bumpett; he had known Nannie all her life, and +they had always been on friendly terms; besides which, their common +knowledge of Rhys' presence in the country had brought them a good +deal together. + +But chance happened to keep them apart at this moment, and the +neighbourhood of the farm had become so abhorrent to him ever since +his errand there, that he hesitated to go near the place. Rhys was the +only person to whom he had related the affair; he hated even to think +of it, and when he at last met the old woman casually in Crishowell +village, the news he longed to impart had been burning within him for +three weeks. + +To do him justice, the Pig-driver's methods in the matter were not +coarse. He did not suggest that Nannie should tell Mrs. Walters +straight out, but he worked so adroitly upon her feeling that he left +her well assured of success. It was clear by her face that she was +aching and longing to have a fling at Williams, that upstart, that +interloper, and--worst of all sinners to the uneducated mind--that man +who kept himself to himself. + +The two women stood by the duck-pond. The birds were collected round +the brink, waddling and gobbling in the soft bits of mud, and Mrs. +Walters was pointing out those she had selected for killing. A large +white drake straddled cumbrously about among the members of his +family. Inside Nannie's apron, which she had gathered with one hand +into a kind of sack, a fat one, predestined to death, quacked and +complained in a voice so lamentable that the mistress had to shout her +directions in order to make the servant understand. + +"Can't 'ear ye!" bawled Nannie, "so long as this 'ere thief do go on +as he do!" + +"Take up the brown one there--no, no--that one by the stone!" cried +Anne, pointing to a young mallard who stood motionless, his dully +critical eye staring, unconscious of wrath to come, upon his +companions. + +The old woman stooped and made a dive with her hand towards the +mallard, and the duck in her apron lifted up its voice and floundered +with all its strength. + +"Drat ye!" exclaimed Nannie, giving it a vicious pinch and missing her +prey, which, with a calm look, sailed into the water, wagging its +tail. + +"Tut, tut," said Mrs. Walters, coming nearer, "give the bird to me and +you go and try to drive the mallard back on to the grass. I must have +him." + +Nannie's eye fell on an old wooden box lying open near, and thrusting +the duck into it, she turned it over with her foot. The air rang with +its outcries. Then she picked up a branch and advanced along the brink +to the spot nearest to her quarry. He took little apparent interest +until she came level with him, when, with a twirl of his leg, he put +an extra yard or so between them. + +"Shoo! shoo!" cried Mrs. Walters from the shore. + +"That ain't no good, mum!" exclaimed Nannie, pushing back her +sunbonnet with a large gesture; "if ye'd let fly at 'im wi' that gob +o' mud beside ye 'e might take more notice o' ye." + +Anne picked up a clod and threw it into the pond. The duck merely +turned upside down and became a simple cone in the water with three +small feathers in the apex. The attitude had a suggestion of insult. + +Nannie beat the branch up and down on the surface of the pond, +muttering words under her breath which, had they reached her mistress, +would have done her no good. The effect it had was that of disquieting +the others, and they began to steal away across the grass in a solemn +string, protest in every line of their feathers and every movement of +their ungainly feet. The mallard looked after them for a moment and +began to swim round and round the pool. + +"I have no more time to waste," said Anne Walters impatiently; "you +had better call Williams; I see him in the garden." + +George was very cheerful; he was whistling at his work, and he had a +pleasant sense of things being all right. The clouds rode along over +his head, white masses of packed snow, cut sharp against the blue, and +steering their course through the endless ether like great galleons +advancing, unconquered and unconquerable. A lark was losing itself in +a tremor of melody, a little vanishing spot. It struck him that the +world was good. + +He had seen Mary once or twice since the fair, and, though his heart +burned within him at keeping silence from the words he might not +speak, he felt he was gaining ground; at least, he had got her respect +again, and he had seen, entering the shop a few days since, a look of +unmistakable pleasure in her face as she greeted him. Yes, things were +looking up, and the garden, into which he had put so many hours of +steady work, was beginning to repay him. + +George was in his element in a garden, though he was himself +unconscious of the fact. He had an intense sympathy with growth and +life, vegetable and animal, and a large sense of protectorship. As he +paused a moment, looking critically at a lush corner where the +scarlet-runners had engulfed the fence, he might have stood for the +modern version of the original Adam, the natural culmination of the +Spirit of Life, moving, not on the waters, but on the fields. All he +wanted was Eve; Eve, who, at that moment, was standing in a similar +environment, behind the little stack of green vegetables piled on the +counter before her. Her surroundings were a little more complicated, +that was all, but when were a woman's otherwise? + +Williams left the garden at Nannie's call, and she watched him with a +sour face as Mrs. Walters directed him to catch the mallard. + +"I'll get 'im easy enough," said he; "there's no use in driving 'im. +Them ducks always follow their own kind. Go we a bit out o' the way, +an' I'll be bound he'll be on dry land afore we've got far." + +They retreated from the pond, and the bird ceased his gyrations, only +fixing a wary eye on their departing figures. After consideration, he +made for the spot where the rest had landed, and set out on their +track, the violence of his efforts causing him to roll from side to +side like a ship in a storm. When he was well out on his course, the +old woman pounced upon him and bore him struggling to the box. + +"Williams is a sensible man," observed Anne, as she looked after +George's disappearing back. "I did well when I took him. There is a +Providence over all our acts, little as we think it sometimes." + +Nannie looked sarcastic. + +"Under God, I may have done a good work," continued her mistress, who +was unused to having her words disregarded. The leavening of self in +them took nothing from their sincerity. + +"That's as may be," replied Nannie, with her nose in the air. + +Mrs. Walters looked at her as one might look at a child who has pitted +its opinion against that of an elder. + +"Williams is leading a new life. He has put the old man from him." + +"Yes, he! he! And he've taken a young woman in 'is place," leered +Nannie, whose flippancy occasionally got the better of her awe of +Anne. + +"What do you mean?" inquired her companion. + +"Ye can't see everything that happens in the world from Masterhouse," +she replied enigmatically. + +"I don't know what you mean by talking like that," said Anne, drawing +herself up. + +"There's some that's mighty different to what they look. I could tell +a thing or two about that Williams if I liked. Not that it's for _me_ +to speak," said the old woman. + +Anne was not without curiosity. + +"What do you know against him?" she asked, after a pause. + +"He's a soft one, is Williams; but I know 'im. It's 'yes, mum' here +and 'yes, mum' there up this way, but down at Llangarth 'tis another +story. Rollin' about at fairs with a hussy that's no better than she +should be. I can't do wi' they mealy-mouthed chaps; they've always got +the devil's tail tucked away somewhere in their breeches." + +Mrs. Walter's face darkened. Nannie went on, encouraged. + +"As proud as Punch he was, too. An' she goin' about without shame, +holding his arm like the gentry." + +"Who told you this?" + +It was on the tip of Nannie's tongue to say, "The Pig-driver," but she +suddenly bethought her of the one occasion on which he had come to the +farm. She had hovered about at the kitchen-door that day and had heard +the scene enacted inside it. She knew very well that her mistress had +but scant respect for James Bumpett. + +Anne repeated her question. + +"Oh, I heard in Crishowell about his goings-on. Fine talk he's made +there, an' no mistake." + +"You are much too fond of gossip," said Mrs. Walters judicially. + +"'Tis no gossip. 'Tis my plain duty, an' no more. If folks down +Crishowell way be sayin' what a mawk you be to have picked up such a +bad bit o' stuff, I'll let ye know it, an' no more than Christian too. +Not that I wasn't ashamed to hear them speakin' such low words about +ye, knowin' that 'twas a holy act ye thought to do. But we're all +deceived sometimes." + +And Nannie stooped, sighing, to take up the imprisoned ducks. + +Anne stood contemplating the mixture of fiction and truth served up to +her. She wished to dismiss it all with contempt, but the thought of +her acts being criticized was too much for her. Criticism spelt +outrage to her temperament. + +She turned away towards the house, internally fevered. The ducks +squalled in Nannie's grasp as they were carried to the outhouse which +was to be their condemned cell. Their jailer hurried along; she had no +idea of leaving her work half done. + +"Where be I to put them?" she cried above the din. + +Mrs. Walters pointed to a door without stopping. The old woman flung +it open and deposited her burden. As she shut them up, Anne turned +round. + +"Come in," she said stiffly. "I must know who it is that has spoken +about Williams." + +"Crishowell folk, mum." + +"How many people?" + +"A sight o' them." + +Nannie's evasions began to rouse her suspicions. "I suppose Bumpett +told you," she said, turning suddenly on her servant. + +Nannie's jaw dropped. + +"Answer me!" cried Mrs. Walters, with rising voice; "was it Bumpett?" + +"Well, now I think on it, 'e _was_ one o' them." + +"I thought so," said Anne, smiling grimly. + +"And who is this--this loose woman you were speaking of? You haven't +told me that." + +"Lawk! mum, I wouldn't so much as name her afore ye," replied Nannie, +drawing down her mouth. + +"Let me have no more nonsense," exclaimed Mrs. Walters, with +justifiable warmth; "if you did not mean to speak out, you had no +business to say anything at all. I am waiting to hear." + +Nannie shuffled from one foot to the other. + +"Well, 'tis Mary Vaughan, the toll-keeper's wench." + +Anne stood staring at her. "I do not believe it," she exclaimed, +turning her back. "If it were true, it would be a direct disrespect to +me." + +From her point of view this was a charge hardly to be faced. + +"It's Gospel, for all that," said the old woman. + +Mrs. Walters' eyes rested searchingly on her companion; the look was +returned, and held all the difference between the two women's +characters. + +"I shall ask him myself," she said; "I shall soon find out if it is +true." + +Having sent off her shaft, Nannie held her peace, and followed her +mistress indoors, a little nervous, but auguring well from the cloud +on Anne's brow; a cloud accumulating, pregnant with storm. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE WAY TO PARADISE + +MARY sat behind her counter sewing, for customers were not frequent, +and she had plenty of time on her hands. June was well advanced, and +the fact was proclaimed by a long spray of dog-roses which stood in a +glass beside her. The bloom of the month had not passed her by, and +her whole being was making good its losses with the elasticity of +youth. Not that she did not carry in her face the same traces of +sorrow she also bore in her heart; but as beauty, mental or physical, +cannot be made perfect without suffering, it was a fairer woman sat +under the light of the window among the fruits of gracious earth than +the one who had parted from Rhys Walters at the Dipping-Pool for the +last time, six months before. Time is a great healer, but his rival, +Work, runs him hard, and though the former's chance had yet to come +with Mary, the latter had begun his ministration. + +Now and then she would break into a snatch of song, and although it +would end, for the most part, in a sigh and a long silence, it +indicated a state of things impossible a little while ago. She lived +very much alone, and but for the old woman who owned the shop and the +occasional looker-in, who came to make purchases, she spoke to no one. +Only when George Williams contrived to get into the town, and +presented himself with a certain determined shyness at the door, did +she have any touch with the human beings who surrounded her. + +And once, when, in the quiet of the evening, she had been induced to +stroll out with him, they had crossed the Wye and wandered a mile or +two between the dimness of the hedges, a faint yellow sky overhead and +the white crescent of a young moon rising above the limitless +translucence of the ether. She had not known at the time how much she +was enjoying herself. + +She thought of it again as her needle stitched on and on and the feet +of the passers-by rang on the pavement. The shop was so low that, when +a cart drove along in the middle of the road, there was nothing but a +vision of wheels. One was just stopping outside, and, as a pair of +singularly crooked legs was to be seen climbing down, she laid her +work by, and rose as the door opened to admit a person whom she had +often seen, oftener heard of, and never spoken to. + +The Pig-driver entered the shop with the air of a man who brings good +tidings, so cheerful was his demeanour, so satisfactory his smile, so +full of a precise and proven benevolence. A chair stood by the +counter, and he drew it yet closer and sat down with a studied care, +which suggested that he meant to make immense purchases at illimitable +leisure. Before speaking, he eyed her carefully from top to toe. + +"What can I serve you with?" inquired Mary civilly. + +"He! he!" chuckled Bumpett, "I bean't come to buy; no, no, not to +buy." + +He laid his stick along the counter, and spreading his elbows out over +it, leered up into her face. + +"I be come to see you, you an' no one else. Ah! I'm an old stump, I +am, but I do like the sight of a pretty face." + +She looked annoyed. + +"No offence, my dear, no offence." + +"What is your business?" she asked, drawing a little back from the +counter. + +"It isn't business, my dear, it's pleasure this time. I've come +because it does me a sight of good to get a look at you, he! he! Name +o' goodness! A wonderful thing it is to think what a deal o' mischief +a smart-like wench can do. Ye've done for that fellow up at +Masterhouse, an' no mistake. It's all up wi' him now." + +She stared at him and laid hold of the wooden counter with her hand. + +"Ye needn't look," said Bumpett, "'tis true. I had it from Mrs. Davis, +straight. There won't be no more o' he up at the farm, I'll warrant." + +"But what has it to do with me?" exclaimed Mary, unable to connect the +Pig-driver's meanings, but scenting trouble vaguely. "I don't know +what you're driving at, Mr. Bumpett." + +"Ye don't know nothin' about it, eh? My! you're a bold one, you are, +for all ye look as meek as skim-milk. I suppose you'll tell me ye +don't know George Williams next. That'll be no use though, because I +see'd ye wi' him at Llangarth Fair hangin' on to his arm like a +ladyship. But ye've done him no good wi' your sheep's eyes." + +"I don't believe you--I don't know what you're talking about." + +"Ah, don't ye? Well then, I'll tell ye." + +He smacked his lips, for the moment he longed for had arrived. + +"You sit down, girl. 'Tis a long tale. Ye won't, won't ye? Ah! I hope +ye've got a good pair o' legs under ye then, for ye'll have to stand +some time. He's an ungrateful dog is Williams, behaving shameful to +me, that was like a father to 'im; me that put the bread into 'is +mouth when 'e was starving. Then 'e got took on at Masterhouse; +nothin' was too good for 'im then, I believe. I warned 'er--went out +o' my way by a mile an' more, I did. Ye needn't look at me like that, +ye mawk-mouthed piece o' spite; ye've done my job for me, and I'm come +to thank ye. Now, mind ye this. When Mrs. Walters got wind that 'e was +keepin' company wi' a slut like you, there weren't no more ado, I can +tell ye. She says, 'Damn ye!' she says, 'ye'll clear yerself out o' +this or ye'll be done wi' that trollop down i' the town.' That's a +sweet bit o' news to ye, I'll be bound." + +"And is he gone?" asked Mary, her face white. + +"Gone! I suppose he is, indeed. She had 'im out that blessed evenin'. +She's one o' the holy sort, an' trust them to stand no jolly doin's." + +Tears started to Mary's eyes. She could not but believe the old man's +words, and it was terrible to think that she, of all people, had been +the cause of fresh misfortune to George. She had known him first--a +poor man, so poor that he had a hard struggle to live, and then she +had seen the difference in him when luck had come his way. He had told +her many of his troubles, and, when she had allowed interest to creep +in, sympathy and friendship had followed. + +The day seemed to have grown darker, the light to have faded. She felt +herself a blight, a malignant influence which had come into this man's +hard life and made it harder. She would have given anything to hide +her distress from Bumpett, but she could not, and he sat gloating in +his chair over the effect he had made. + +"You're a bad man," she said, when she had managed to control herself +a little, "I've heard it said of you, and God knows it's true." + +The Pig-driver's reply was cut short by the opening of the shop door +and the entrance of a customer. She dried her eyes quickly, and he, +finding that he could no longer monopolize his victim, departed, and +went away a satisfied and contented man, feeling well towards this +life. A little boy begged of him in the street and he gave him a +halfpenny. + +The old woman for whom Mary worked did not generally descend from her +room overhead till late in the afternoon. The girl had charge of +everything during the greater part of the day, but, at five o'clock, +her mistress would come down and take her place behind the counter, +leaving her free to do as she pleased and go where she would. She was +never asked to give any account of her doings, and was only expected +to be back at nine o'clock to put away things in the shop and to close +up the house. Sometimes she would stay on in her place, taking out her +book, for she still tried to teach herself, and sometimes, since +summer had begun, go out into the scented evening, communing with her +own soul and drawing peace from the peace around. + +To-night, though she had little heart to leave the house with, she +found her mind unable to fix itself on the letters of the simple pages +she was spelling out. It flew off continually to George--George +unemployed, George despondent, George disgraced because he had not +consented to forego the infinitesimal part she had been willing to +give him in her life. + +It was striking six by the town clock as she went out. The street was +a quiet one and there were few people in it, but as her hand left the +latch she saw Williams coming towards her. She went hurriedly on to +meet him. + +"Come," she exclaimed, without other greeting, "I want to see you." + +She put her hand on his sleeve and almost turned him round. George +turned with her and they went forward, hardly thinking where they were +going, he because he was with her and would have gone with her to +perdition, and she because she had no other thought than the one which +had been in her all day. + +"Oh, George, why have you left your place?" she cried. + +"How do you know I've left it?" said he, almost roughly. + +"I heard to-day. Mr. Bumpett the Pig-driver was here. 'Twas him I got +it from." + +"What was he doing?" + +"He was in the shop." + +"Buying?" + +"No. He came to tell me you was leaving Masterhouse. He told me why, +too." + +An exclamation broke from the man. + +"Oh, I know. I know all about it," said the girl, her voice trembling. +"Do go back now, George, do. For all the good you've done me, I've +given you nought but harm. Let me be an' go back to the farm, and I'll +never see you nor speak to you, if they'll take you back. It will make +me happy, oh! so happy, George. Do you hear what I say?" + +"I hear." + +"To-morrow, George. Go to-morrow. She may fill up your place if you +wait. Will you go early?" + +"I bean't going. I'm off to Hereford to-morrow; I've come down to say +good-bye to 'e, Mary." + +"Oh! George Williams, will nothing turn you?" she entreated. + +"Nothin'," said the young man. + +Looking at him she saw it was useless to try to move him. His face was +hard, as she had first known it. There was a barred cell in Williams' +heart, and when he had entered into it, no one could draw him out, not +even the woman he loved. + +"If you be going to Hereford, you'll be gone from me, the same as if +you was at Great Masterhouse. It will be all one," said Mary +presently. + +Not knowing how to explain himself, he did not reply. If he stayed on +in his place it would mean a denial of the faith that was in him, a +disloyalty to her. He did not so much as consider it, and it annoyed +him that she should do so. + +They had turned into a deep lane leading up to the higher ground. From +a clump of thorn-trees further on the cuckoo was calling. When the +lane ended, the two stopped and looked at Llangarth beneath their +feet. + +Mary's heart was full; the world was too complicated for her, man too +hard, and George was going. She had ruined him, not willingly, but +none the less effectually. She glanced up at him and saw his look +fixed on her. His eyes were soft in his hard face, and in them lay the +weary knowledge of how far outside Paradise he stood. She made a step +towards him, catching her breath. + +"George!" she cried, "oh, but I've been bad to you!" + + * * * * * * + +It was some time after that they came down the lane again together, +her hand, like a little child's, lying in his. The late sunset had +faded, and its remains were just dying along the edge of the world. +They said little, the man of few words and the woman of wounded heart. +It was the silence of knowledge, profound, irrevocable, lying miles +and miles from the door of their lips; of trust, of sorrow, of coming +joy. For her the joy was but faintly showing itself through the veil, +for him it stood in the path. + +If his Eve had caused him to be expelled from Paradise by one door, +she had let him in again at another. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +A DARK LANTERN + +ALTHOUGH Isoline had now nothing left to fear from the importunities +of her lover and was beginning to see a good broad streak of daylight +through the entanglements which beset her path, the reply that her +uncle's letter brought from Mrs. Johnson in Hereford was a decided +relief. She was to come as soon as she liked and to be prepared for a +long stay. The widow had an only daughter, just returned for good from +the respectable shelter of a Bath seminary, and she looked upon +Isoline's proposal as a piece of real good fortune. She was averse to +effort of most kinds, and had been a little fluttered at the prospect +of her dove's return and the exertions into which it might lead her. A +companion who would amuse and occupy the young lady was so good an +extinguisher to the flame of her dilemma that she threw a perfect +flood of cordiality into her answer, and begged the coming guest to +consider herself bound for six weeks at the very least. She thought +Isoline a most desirable intimate for her Emily, having been struck by +the decorous elegance of her manners and the tone of delicate +orthodoxy which surrounded her. + +Miss Ridgeway turned her back upon Crishowell with many feelings of +pleasure. There was not one thing in all the place which she really +regretted leaving, and even Rhys Walters, who cost her what more +nearly approached a regret than anything else, went comfortably out of +her head; on her return, happily a good way off, he might again serve +to lend a little zest to an otherwise depressing life. That was his +use in her mind. + +In Hereford her time and attention were soon taken up by more +important things, musical evenings, shoppings, and various little +social assemblies at which she became the centre of much admiration to +the young gentlemen of Hereford society. Indeed, one admirer, a pale +youth connected with a local bank, sent her a copy of verses, +beginning-- + + "Stoop, cruel fair, my gaping wounds to heal, + Thou goddess graceful, beauteous and genteel," + +in which he described his feelings in a very lamentable manner. This +effusion found a resting-place in her album and aroused some envy in +the heart of Miss Emily, to whom the author was an object of interest. +But, in spite of such small episodes, the two girls got on very well +together, and Mrs. Johnson was happy in the arrangement she had made +and the enjoyment of a placid and well-nourished leisure. + +July went by, August, September, and still Isoline stayed on. The year +rolled up to its zenith and declined in a glory of ripened apples and +glowing leaves. As October followed, the naked fields about Hereford +began to suggest to sporting men the coming hunting season, and the +bare boughs of November stirred Harry's heart with the same idea as he +saw them in the London parks. + +He had succeeded in finding a secretaryship, unimportant in itself, +but filling him with the hope of greater things, and he had worked +hard. As the smell of the moist earth pervaded the late autumn +mornings, he could not help, as he crossed St. James' Park on his way +to his business, longing for much which he had lost. Doing without +pleasures which have, so far, been necessities has a certain interest +of novelty for a time, but it is an interest which soon palls. It had +palled on him. His courage remained and his love for Isoline, but that +was all. + +With the other man whose destiny had tangled itself round her feet the +time had gone even more heavily. Sick at heart with her long absence +and the desolate feeling that she had gone beyond his reach, Rhys had +dragged himself through the months; having nothing to look forward to +from day to day, he had been ready at times to rush out into the full +sunshine and give himself up. But, just as he had lost all hope, a +letter had come from Isoline, directed to him under the name by which +she knew him, and sent to the Pig-driver, in compliance with an +earnest request he had made before they parted. That had buoyed him up +for some time, and he drew courage from the thought of her return, +which she wrote of as not being far distant. + +But when November passed and there came no sign, the blackness closed +down again on him. The cold was terrible too, and the nights were +bitter. He would come in half-frozen at dawn and bury himself among +the sheepskins to endure the weary hours as best he could between +sleep and misery. + +He cared nothing now for life, and there were times when he made plans +of escape; risk would be welcome, a thousand times welcome, for his +whole existence was little but a living death. To be out once more in +the light, at no matter what cost, to feel the glory of freedom, of +taking his life in his hand, the idea made his blood tingle. Had there +been proof of his devotion wanted, no greater could have been given +than he gave; for, above all his pinings, all his dreams of release, +the image of Isoline rose and he thrust them down. + +Even Bumpett was now anxious to get him out of the country and would +have facilitated his escape in any way; as a servant he was becoming +useless, for he spent the nights in rambling about with no thoughts of +doing anything but cooling his aching heart with the space and the +darkness and getting relief after the imprisonment of daylight. The +two had had high words, for the old man, resenting the notion of +supporting a dependent who did nothing in return, had threatened to +cut off his supplies and to starve him out if he did not leave the +cottage of his own accord. But Walters had promised him that his own +expulsion would mean immediate exposure, and the Pig-driver had +gnashed his teeth over the obvious truth that the man who does not +value his life has an advantage over the man who does. + +Rhys would talk to himself as he sat, his head in his hands, in the +cellar among the remnants of George's belongings; the dusk in which he +dwelt had given his eyes a strange, dull look, and his shoulders +stooped from long hours of sitting idle. Bumpett had, at one time, +smuggled a book and a few papers in his cart and left them with him; +but he had no heart to read, and would only sit and brood, unable to +concentrate his thoughts. The whole man had slackened, mind and body; +all that was still strong within him was the resolution not to give +way until he had seen one face again. It was his fixed idea. + +It was decided that Isoline was to go back to Crishowell for +Christmas, and she was spending the last few days of her stay in +Hereford regretfully. She had been very happy and she did not look +forward to a return to the country, especially as she would miss all +kinds of seasonable gaiety by so doing. + +The two girls were talking as they sat in the lamplight one evening. +Dinner was over and Miss Emily was at work upon her embroidery, a +chaste piece of design in which a parrot with bead eyes perched +stolidly upon a bouquet of yellow roses. Mrs. Johnson, who had a cold, +lay upon the sofa, her head enveloped in a woollen shawl; the local +newspaper was in her hand, and from it she occasionally read extracts, +not so much for the sake of informing her companions as because she +liked to make her comments aloud. + +"It is really a pity that you will miss the quadrille party next +week," said Emily, looking up from her parrot; "what poor Mr. +Pottinger will do I cannot think. I am sure he will be vastly annoyed. +He will write no more poetry when you are gone." + +"Yes, and I did so want to wear my green-and-white muslin too." + +"Green and white, forsaken quite," quoted Emily. "Only it will be Mr. +Pottinger who is forsaken, not you." + +"La! Emily, do not be so absurd. There are plenty of other young +ladies coming for Christmas who can console him." + +"Ah, but there is no one like you, Isoline," said the admiring Emily. +She was plain herself. + +"What nonsense," rejoined her companion, well satisfied. + +"Emily, my love," broke in Mrs. Johnson, "it is really impossible to +see so far from the light. Pray come and take the paper and read aloud +a little, as you are near the lamp." + +Emily put her embroidery away with a sigh. She preferred infinitely to +gossip with Isoline. + +"What shall I read, ma'am?" she inquired, as she sat down again with +the journal in her hand. + +"Anything, child," said her mother. + +"'There is a strong apprehension,'" she began, "'of great distress +being prevalent during the coming winter; it is to be feared----'" + +"No, not that," interrupted Mrs. Johnson, drawing her woollen shawl +more closely round her, "read something else." + +"'The Probability of a European War,'" continued her daughter, reading +the headings. + +"No, no," said the lady, who was disinclined to grapple with large +subjects, "read the local news. On the second page, my dear." + +Miss Emily ran her eye over the columns. "'Banquet given to the Mayor. +A successful entertainment was held in honour of our respected Mayor, +Mr. William Smeebody, at the Crown and Gander, on Saturday the 4th +instant. The table positively groaned under the triumphs of culinary +skill which it displayed, and many brilliant and felicitous speeches +followed the repast. But it should not be supposed that the pleasures +of the table and the pleasures of the intellect were the only +advantages offered to the company. Many of the fair sex were present, +including his Worship's lady, whose elegant accomplishments have made +her so bright a star in our social firmament.'" + +Mrs. Johnson breathed as hard as her cold would permit. + +"Really!" she exclaimed, "there is no end to the odious publicity +which is being brought into domestic life! I am sure if the newspapers +had ventured to speak of _me_ in such terms, Mr. Johnson would have +disliked it intensely--elegant accomplishments, indeed!" + +"'Death of the Reverend Mr. Slaughter,'" continued Emily. "'It is with +profound grief that we have to record the tragic incident which took +place yesterday. The Reverend Mr. Slaughter was seized with a fit +while officiating last evening in Hebron Chapel and expired in the +arms of the verger.'" + +"Dear! dear!" said the voice from the sofa, "and I was thinking of +attending divine worship there too! I had my bonnet half on, you +remember, Emily, and I said, 'I shall go to Hebron Chapel,' and then +cook came up to speak to me in the middle, so I was too late and had +to go later to St. James' instead. How one misses one's opportunities +in this world! Dear! dear! dear!" + +"Here is something to interest _you_, Isoline," said Miss Emily, "for +I remember you said that your friend, Mr. Fenton, was concerned about +it." + +"'Some little stir has been occasioned at Llangarth and in the +neighbourhood by a statement made by a labouring man. It will not be +forgotten that one of the worst of the Rebecca riots took place last +January upon the Brecon road near Crishowell, and that the now +notorious Rhys Walters took the life of the toll-keeper in the +struggle. His subsequent disappearance upon the Black Mountain was, at +the time of the disturbance, a nine-days wonder, and no trace of him +has been found since that date, now almost a year ago. The labourer in +question states that he was returning one night last week to a farm +called the Red Field, where he is employed, about half-past twelve. He +had been at Abergavenny, on the other side of the Pass, and business +had kept him there until a late hour. He carried with him a dark +lantern which he had been lent in the town. Being footsore, he sat +down to rest upon a piece of rock just under the shoulder of the +Twmpa. He had put down the slide of his lantern some time before, for, +the path over the turf being good, he felt more able to guide his +general direction by the mass of the hill against the sky than by its +light, especially as there was a faint starlight. He had sat about ten +minutes when he heard a footstep approaching. He called out, but +received no answer, and the footstep immediately ceased. He then drew +up the slide and saw, not ten yards from him, a figure which he +believes to be that of Rhys Walters. The man was looking straight at +him, and the labourer, upon whom he produced the effect of an +apparition, was so much startled that he dropped the light. It is +needless to say that, when he recovered it, the fugitive (if indeed it +were he) had disappeared. Questioned closely by the magistrate about +his general appearance, he described the person he had seen as a tall +man with a long, pale face and piercing eyes. He noticed that he had +rather high, square shoulders and eyebrows which came down very low +towards the nose. He seemed about thirty years of age. If the labourer +speaks accurately, it seems very much as if he were right in his +surmises, for the above is a remarkably good description of Rhys +Walters. It is even possible that he has been in hiding somewhere in +the neighbourhood of the mountain for the last eleven months, though +it seems an inconceivable feat for a man to have performed. If this be +actually the case, one thing is certain, namely, that he has been +assisted in his concealment by some person or persons unknown.'" + +"What dreadful things there are in the paper to-night, Emily," +observed Mrs. Johnson. "It is quite alarming to think of such a man +being at large--so near, too. Look at Miss Ridgeway. One might think +she had seen a ghost!" + +Isoline sat like an image, staring before her. Emily's reading was +weaving a distinct picture, a picture which grew more familiar at +every word. She felt as though the world were giving way beneath her +and she herself being whirled along into a chaos where order was dead +and criminals were allowed to go free about the earth to delude +respectable young ladies, without the very stones crying out against +it. What had Providence been doing? The truth was there in its +baldness. She had been associating--she, Isoline--with a murderer; she +might even have been killed herself. The tears rushed hot into her +eyes. These were the sort of things that might happen to other +people--rough people--but not to her, surely not to her! She sat +stunned, her eyes fixed and brimming. The most shocking part of the +whole thing was the coarseness of its reality. + +"Oh, what is the matter, Isoline?" cried Miss Emily in tactless +dismay. "Mama, she is crying!" + +Mrs. Johnson rose from her sofa. She was a kind soul. + +"My dear Miss Ridgeway, you are too sensitive," she said, "though I do +not wonder you are horrified at such a tale,--so near your home, too. +Really, what the law and the police are coming to, I do not know!" + +Like many ladies, Mrs. Johnson spent much time in lamenting the +inefficiency of these bodies. "Go up to bed, my dear, and I will send +you a posset. I am taking one myself for my cold. I fear you are +terribly upset, but Emily can sleep with you if you are nervous." + +"No, no, thank you," said Isoline, making a great effort at +self-control. "I am quite well now. I am not afraid, thank you, ma'am, +but I was upset at thinking--at thinking----" + +"My dear, I can well sympathize," said Mrs. Johnson, "it is enough to +upset any one. Go up to bed. You will get to sleep and forget it." + +For one thing Isoline was devoutly thankful, and that was that Emily +had apparently not guessed her secret. Soon after her arrival, she had +told her the story of her mysterious admirer, and Emily, though +professing herself rather shocked, had been immensely interested; it +was part of her creed that Isoline could do no wrong. She was romantic +too, and she had more imagination than her friend, and the idea of it +appealed to her. Should she happen upon the truth, the other girl felt +as if she could never face her again, and she was now really glad to +be going back to her uncle immediately, away from the strain of living +in perpetual fear of discovery. She had described Rhys so often that +Emily's want of perception appeared wonderful. But light might break +in on her any day, and, if it did, her own prayer was that she might +be absent. The two parted a couple of days later with secret relief on +her side, and on Emily's genuine tears. + +She left the coach as she had done before, at the foot of Crishowell +Lane, and, this time, found Mr. Lewis waiting to meet her and drive +her to the Vicarage. As she entered the door, Howlie put a letter into +her hand, which had come, he said, just after her uncle's departure, +and she took it up-stairs to read. + +It was from Harry Fenton, and announced the news that a cousin, long +lost sight of, and supposed by the family to be dead, had at last +justified their belief by expiring in a distant colony, and, in so +doing, had left him a sum representing two thousand a year. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +A BIRD IN THE HAND + +HARRY'S employment was not so congenial as to keep him one day at work +after the news of his legacy had reached him, and, as soon as it was +possible, he started for home. + +He was now his own master, and Isoline, that star for which he had +sighed through so many weary months, was within his reach; it was a +glorious thought. He could hardly resist throwing his hat into the air +as he drove along the road between Hereford and Waterchurch again, and +saw all the familiar objects he had passed with her when they had +travelled along it together in the early days of their acquaintance. + +There would be no need for shilly-shallying now, no waiting on luck, +on circumstances, on the tardy decisions of other people, for the +trumps were in his hand and he had only to declare them and lead the +game as he liked. Two thousand a year was a fortune to make him +perfectly independent of anything his father might say or do, for were +he to cut him out of the place itself, his future would still be +assured, and he did not suppose that the Squire would take such a +desperate line as that. Where would be the sense of leaving the +poverty-stricken estate away from the only one of his sons who had the +money to change its fortunes? + +His departure for London had not upset Mr. Fenton very greatly, but +the news that he had found work and was actually doing it came as a +surprise. He had sat him down complacently in the belief that his +prodigal son would soon return, wiser and sadder, to throw himself +into the arms of a forgiving parent--for he meant to be forgiving. He +was very fond of his children, and, though he stormed about the folly +and ingratitude of this one's behaviour, he looked forward to the day +when he should receive him back, and, having magnanimously dismissed +the subject of his infatuation in a few sentences, should welcome him +again to reason and acquiescence in the saner judgment of older and +more sober heads. It never struck him that there could be any other +ending to the episode. + +But as time passed and the letters which came to Lady Harriet gave no +sign of change, he began to fear that the drudgery which he had +promised himself would soon quench the young man's thirst for work was +doing no such thing. He could not understand it, for he had never +supposed that Harry, careless, scatter-brained Harry, with his youth +and light heart, had got it in him to show so much steadiness of +purpose. + +To his wife the truth was plain. Harry was growing up. It had taken +him some time to begin the process, but the late development had set +in at last, and been helped forward, as it so often is, by the +influence of a woman. There was nothing to be done, she felt; time +might bring things right, and she tried to persuade her husband that +expressed opposition could do no good and might do a great deal of +harm. + +"It is all very well for you to talk," the Squire said; "I am not +contemplating a visit of remonstrance to him, though, to hear you, one +would imagine I was going to rush up to London and take him by the +throat. I shall do nothing about it; I shall simply ignore the whole +thing." + +Tact was not Harry's strong point. He had made up his mind that there +should be no delay, and that a day should not elapse ere he delivered +his ultimatum. Acting upon this resolve, he precipitated himself upon +his father before he had been twenty-four hours in the house. + +The result was direful. The Squire's policy of mingled indifference +and magnanimity which he had been hugging against his son's return +changed to gall and wormwood when confronted by the calm request that +was made. The young man had not quite robbed his manner of the +reflection of what lay behind it, and the knowledge that he was master +of the situation peeped out under the formality he had spread smoothly +on the top. He did not mean to be discourteous, but the last few +months had made him feel twice the man he used to be, and he could not +entirely suppress the consciousness. + +"Consent?" roared Mr. Fenton, furious at being brought up against +actualities which he laid decently away, "consent? I tell you the +whole thing is a cock-and-bull story! Don't come here, sir, wasting my +precious time over such stuff!" + +Harry's answer had at least the merit of simplicity. He went straight +out to the stable, took a horse, and set off to Crishowell. Before he +reached the village he met Isoline, who was taking an afternoon walk. +She sedulously avoided the direction of the mountain now. + +It was cold, and she was muffled up in a fur tippet. Her eyes were +sparkling. A rose-coloured scarf that she had wound round her neck +fluttered behind her. + +"You see, Isoline, now everything has come right," he said as he let +her hand go; "it is well that you trusted me, isn't it, darling?" + +Her smile, as she looked at him, was answer enough. She was very +happy. + +They turned into a by-road and he drew the bridle over his arm, +walking beside her. + +There was a shade of embarrassment in his mind; he knew that his +chance of seeing and speaking to her was not likely to occur again, +and he had so much to say. There were a thousand things he had settled +as he came along, and which he must discuss with her. He had rushed +over to Crishowell, not only as a sort of protest against his father's +attitude, but because he knew that he would not be allowed to see +Isoline were the Vicar to be prepared for his coming. He wanted to +tell her more about his legacy too, though, to his unsuspicious heart, +money seemed a sordid thing to talk about to her. And there was +something of vital importance, something which he meant to propose. He +feared to begin. It was simply providential that he had met her. + +"I suppose," he began, "that they would not let you see me if I were +to come to the house. I have so much to say. Isoline, I want to ask +you something. Could you make a sacrifice, do you think? Dearest, I +don't know where to start. I must tell you heaps of things, horrid +things, some of them." + +She looked up quickly. + +"My father is in a dreadful rage. I asked him again to-day, just now, +to give in. He will not." + +"Yes, but you need not mind him now," broke in the girl. + +"No, that's it. That is what made him so furious." + +"But you are not thinking of giving me up?" she said suddenly. "Oh, +Harry! you never mean that!" + +"Give you up? Now, when, at last, I can do as I please? Not likely. +Isoline, I believe you are joking." + +"I never joke," said she, with much truth. + +"What I am going to ask you to do is this," he said gravely, stopping +in the road and looking older than she had ever seen him look before; +"I want to make these separations impossible. I want you to come away +with me, once and for all." + +"What? Now!" she cried, bewildered, stepping a pace or two back. + +"Not now, but soon. In a few days--a week, perhaps." + +She looked at him blankly. + +"Oh, I cannot!" she exclaimed, "it would never do." + +"But why, dear? It has been done before now." + +"What would they say?" + +"That would not matter. You would be my own wife and no one could say +or do anything." + +She made no reply and they walked on; her face was downcast. She +clasped her hands more tightly in her muff and shivered. + +"It would take a little time," he went on; "I should have to get a +special licence and go to London first. But in a week everything could +be ready. We can be married in Hereford and then go straight away. +Isoline, will you?" + +She was silent. + +"Won't you speak, dearest?" said he at last. "Think; all our troubles +would be over and we need never part any more." + +"They will be terribly angry," said Isoline, lifting her eyes +suddenly. + +"No one matters. At least, no one except my mother," he added, with a +half-sigh, "and I know she will forgive me in a little, when she knows +you better. You cannot think how good she is, Isoline." + +Her face hardened. + +"We need not see them, I suppose," she said. + +"We can go straight abroad, if you like." + +"I should like London best," said the girl. + +"We need not come back a moment before we wish to. I am quite +independent, you see. I have not got much ready money at this moment, +but any one will advance it until I am actually receiving my legacy. +Want of money need not trouble us again." + +"You have two thousand a year, have you not, Harry?" + +"Two thousand, one hundred and eleven pounds. There are some shillings +and pence, too, I believe. I went into it all with the lawyer." + +"How fortunately it has happened," said Isoline fervently, her eyes +looking onward to the wintry horizon. + +He was thinking the same thing. All at once, out of the silence that +fell between them, there swam up before him the solemnity of what he +meant to undertake. It was for all his life, probably, and for hers +too. A vague foreshadowing of the buffets of the world, of time, of +chance, of fate, played across his mind. He turned to her, a wave of +tenderness in his heart, and looked down into her perplexed face. + +"If you will do this thing," he said, "I will try always to make up to +you for what I have asked." + +She looked straight in front of her. + +"But I have not decided," she said, almost petulantly; "how can I all +at once?" + +"This is likely to be my last and only chance of talking to you," he +pleaded; "if we settle anything we must do it to-day. You could not +see me if I came; that is the difficulty." + +She shook her head. "Not if your father makes all this fuss." + +"And writing would not be safe. So you see we must think it out now. +Heaven knows when we may meet again." + +"Do you think they will _never_ give in, Harry?" + +"Never's a long day. But it might take time. It might be a year, it +might be much more. It does not matter for me, but your uncle will +hold to it as long as my father does. Oh, darling! I hate this +miserable waiting. Who knows what may happen in a year?" + +"That is all true, Harry. Oh! what _can_ I do?" she cried. "It is so +difficult! If I only had a little time!" + +"Take till to-morrow, Isoline." + +"To-morrow? And how can I see you to-morrow?" + +"You must send to me." + +She laughed shortly. + +"What messenger have I? Howlie is always busy. Besides, he might do +something dreadful." + +"Well, I must think of some other way," said he, "and you must think +too, Isoline. Between us, we shall light on something. What if you +made me some sign?" + +"Wait--I have it!" he cried. "Will you go out to-morrow?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"Any time?" + +"Any time within reason." + +"Then go for your walk in the morning before twelve o'clock. Do you +know the gate at the foot of the lane? The first one as you turn +towards Brecon. I passed it just before I met you." + +"I do not remember it." + +"Then go and look at it after I have gone," said Harry. "There is a +bush beside it--only one--and you will see a last year's nest in the +branches. If you will come away with me, put a stone into it. I will +ride by in the afternoon, and, if it is there, I shall know you have +said yes." + +"But can I reach the nest?" + +"If you stand on one of the rails of the gate you can. It is not out +of reach, for I wondered, as I passed, how it was that the boys had +not pulled it down." + +He searched her face earnestly for some clue to what she would do. + +"What an odd idea," she said at last + +"But will you do that? It is the only way I can think of, and I must +know to-morrow. There is so much to arrange, dear." + +"Very well," said Isoline, "if I mean 'yes,' I will put in the stone. +But suppose it should rain." + +"You must come all the same." + +She pouted. Her mind was making itself up, and the surer her decision +became, the more she was inclined to play with him. + +"What will you do if you find there is no stone there?" she asked. + +But he had gone further in life than when they had parted, and his +lingering boyhood was slipping from him. + +"Do you understand how serious this is?" he said rather sternly. +"Don't trifle, Isoline. It is 'yes' or 'no,' and it is for you to +decide it." + +She wondered, for a moment, whether she really liked him as much as +she had supposed. + +"I am not angry," he said, holding out his hand and fearing he had +been harsh, "but I am so anxious, darling." + +She hesitated a moment before taking hers out of her muff. + +"It had better be this day week," he said, "if you can be ready." + +"This day week? But I have no new dresses, or anything." + +"You can get them after," said Harry. + +"So I could; when we go to London. We shall go to London, shall we +not?" + +"I think it would be the best thing to do." + +"Perhaps you _will_ find the stone in the nest," she said, smiling. + +He pressed the fingers he held. + +"You must slip away early in the morning. It would not do for us to go +on the coach, and I cannot let you go alone, so I will get a carriage +and have relays of post-horses. We must be in Hereford before midday, +and I shall be waiting for you while it is still dark." + +"And where must I meet you?" she inquired; "I hope I shall not have to +go far alone." + +"I cannot wait very near to Crishowell because the carriage might be +seen, and when you are missed, as I suppose you will be in an hour or +so, they would suspect where you had gone. The longer start we have of +any one who may follow, the better." + +"Do you think they will come after us, Harry?" + +"They might. But I hope by the time they see us, that it will be too +late to take you away. You are not afraid, are you, dear?" + +"No, I shall not be then. I need not mind any one when I am Mrs. +Fenton." + +"We must meet on the other side of the village, for that will be a +little bit further on our journey. Be in time, Isoline, because the +longer I wait, the more chance there is of being seen. The second +milestone out of Llangarth would do; you would not have a mile to walk +then." + +"Suppose any one should see me." + +"If you are there at six o'clock, it will be quite dark; even if any +one passed you would not be seen. The earlier we can get off the +better." + +"But suppose they had a light," said she, thinking of the man who had +seen Rhys. + +"Who carries a light so near sunrise?" exclaimed Harry. "No one." + +"It is horrible having to go alone. I do not like it at all," said +Isoline. + +"I will go as far to meet you as I dare. Don't fail me, dear,--but I +know you won't." + +"You really talk of it as though it were settled," said she. Though +she spoke in this way, she knew in her inmost heart that her mind was +made up, but not for the world would she have admitted it to her +lover, even when the admission was to save her a tiresome walk on the +morrow. She liked to exact the last farthing that she considered due +to herself. She did not look happy as she retraced her steps, and, +though it might be said that her troubles were righting themselves, +she was not so, entirely. She was giving up what had been one of her +dearest dreams. + +There would be no wedding--at least none in the sense in which it +appealed to her--no toilette, no bridesmaids envious of her +importance, no favours, no grey horses, none of the flourish and +circumstance with which she had pictured herself entering married +life. She could not have foreseen herself dispensing with it, but +then, neither could she have foreseen the malign chance which had +revealed Rhys Walters to the man with the dark lantern. The horror of +that discovery was never long out of her mind. + +It was clear from what the newspapers had said that he was in +communication with some one, and, while she and Harry delayed their +marriage, every day brought its fresh possibility that Walters might +hear a rumour of her engagement. Little as she knew of the deep places +of human souls, she had seen, when they parted, that he was desperate, +and a sort of dread had come to her of the power she had let loose; +since the revelation of his name and character he had become a +nightmare. She repented bitterly of her vanity, or, at least, of the +toils into which her vanity had led her. + +At night she would wake and imagine him lying in wait behind some tree +to murder her, like the determined and forsaken heroes of romances she +had read. Such things had happened before. Once she was married and +clear of Crishowell she would be safe; but she was to pay for the +hours in which she had sunned herself in his admiration with the glory +that should have been hers as a bride. + +Next morning while Harry, at Waterchurch, was loitering about, chained +to the vicinity of the stable-clock, she was walking briskly along the +road with a stone in her muff. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +THE PURSUERS + +IT was a quiet week which followed at Waterchurch, and when Harry set +off to London on business which he refused to talk about, and which he +vaguely referred to as connected with his lawyer, Mr. Fenton bade him +good-bye amiably enough. His son had neither contradicted him nor +re-opened the subject of his marriage, and the Squire, with whom put +off was done with, regained his composure and returned to his own +affairs. He told his wife nothing, for he had lost his temper and did +not wish her to find it out. + +Harry had said he would be absent "two or three days," so when a week +had gone and he neither wrote nor returned, his father began to wonder +what he was doing. He sought Lady Harriet. + +"What's Harry about in London?" he inquired. "He seems in no hurry to +come back." + +"I thought he would have been home before now. I hope there are no +complications about his money," she replied. + +Mr. Fenton fidgeted about. + +"I wish there were no complications about anything else," said he, +stopping in front of her. "I wasn't such a fool as he is at his age." + +"What has he been doing?" she asked, a twinge of misgiving flying +through her mind. + +"What has he been doing? Really, Harriet, you are not brilliant! Here +have we been at our wits' end because of that girl of Lewis', and you +ask me, what has he been doing? Heavens!" + +"But there is nothing new, is there? Nothing we don't know?" + +"He came to me about it again." + +She raised her eyes quickly to his in a question, and he looked out of +the window. + +"I told him I wouldn't hear of it." + +"And then?" + +"He went off. I didn't see him till dinner that night." + +"But where did he go?" + +"Go? How should I know where he went? I know where he _will_ go, and +that's to the deuce," said the Squire, beginning to march about the +room. "The question isn't where he went, but where he is now. That is +the point of it, and I am surprised that you, Harriet, don't see it. I +shouldn't wonder if he were sitting there with his arm round the +girl's waist at this moment." + +"At Crishowell? I know Mr. Lewis would never allow that." + +"Allow it? Who'd ask him to allow it, I should like to know? They +needn't be under Lewis' nose. He's there, you take my word for it." At +every sentence the Squire's voice rose. "I'm not going to stand such a +thing any more. It's time somebody did something. What's the use of +our sitting here with our hands before us like so many fools, eh?" + +"What shall you do? You see, now he is his own master," said Lady +Harriet, sighing. + +"His own master? I'll show him whether he is his own master or not! +You know as well as I do that there is no entail on Waterchurch. I'll +just bring that to his notice. 'My good boy,' I'll say, 'you bring +this upstart of a girl here and you'll see whether there's an entail +or not!' That'll bring him round." + +"I'm afraid that's not a very good plan, Edward. That would be worse +than useless." + +"Pshaw! I tell you I'll soon find out whether it's useless!" + +Mr. Fenton sat down to a writing-table and began scribbling excitedly. +When he had sealed up his note he rang the bell. + +"Is there any one in the stable?" he inquired, rather unnecessarily, +seeing that it was just half-past eight in the morning. The Fentons +were early people and breakfasted at eight, even in winter. Lady +Harriet never sat long at the table after meals were over, and they +had just left the dining-room. + +Before the man could answer, a steady, approaching trot was plain in +the avenue, and, a moment later, there was a grinding of wheels upon +the gravel. + +"What an extraordinary hour for any one to come," exclaimed Lady +Harriet. + +As she spoke, the long face of the Vicar of Crishowell's old mare was +visible through the window. She was blowing, and though only her head +could be seen, it was apparent, from the way it rocked backwards and +forwards, that she was cruelly distressed. + +The butler went out and returned. + +"Mr. Lewis, sir. He says he must see you particular. He wished to be +shown into the study, sir." + +"Is Harry here?" asked the Vicar, as his friend entered. + +"No," said Mr. Fenton. "God bless me, Lewis, you look quite white." + +"My niece is missing," exclaimed the Vicar, his lips shaking; "I have +come to tell you. They have gone off--Heaven forgive them for what +they have done! We must go after them. I came here with a faint hope +of finding Harry, but I must be off again." + +The Squire took him by the arm as he was making for the door, and +pulled him into a chair. He sank into it, covering his eyes. + +"What must you think of me, you and Lady Harriet? Fenton, I never +foresaw it, blind fool that I was! She was so quiet, I never dreamed +that the whole thing was not over, so far as she was concerned; she +did not even seem to care." + +The Squire was bewildered. + +"She complained of headache last night and told the maid not to call +her in the morning. The girl forgot and tried to open the door. It was +locked, so she got frightened and came for me, and we found the room +empty. The bed had not been slept in, though one could see that she +had been lying on it; she must have lain down in her clothes for fear +of not awaking in time. Her handbag was gone, and her brushes and +things--that is what made me suspect. I sent a boy down to a cottage +on the road to Llangarth to ask if anything had been seen, and the man +had heard a carriage pass a little before six and seen the lights of a +postchaise. He heard it pass again on its way back not long after." + +"How do you know it was Harry?" asked Mr. Fenton. + +"I can only guess; but who else could it be? I must be off at once. I +am going to Llangarth, for I shall get some clue at the toll this end +of the town. They would be obliged to pass through it." + +"I will go too," said the Squire, his hand on the bell. "You can't get +on with the same horse, Lewis. We must put in one of mine." + +"Quarter to nine," said the Vicar, pulling out his watch. "It was +nearly eight when I left. Two hours ago I knew nothing." + +As the two sat side by side they did not exchange a word. The horse +was a good trotter, and the Squire, who drove, put him to his utmost +pace. + +The Vicar looked blankly out on the hedges and fields which +approached, passed, and dropped behind, bitterness round his closed +lips. The few illusions he had ever had about his niece were fallen +from him, and he understood her thoroughly. It was sordid money that +had made her do this thing, that had decoyed her out into the darkness +of the winter morning, and not the man who was waiting for her. If +love had undone Isoline as it had undone Mary, he felt he could have +recoiled from her less, though the outside world would have deemed it +a worse calamity. It would have struck him to the earth indeed, but it +could hardly have sickened him as this had done. He would have given +all he possessed to prevent any one belonging to himself from dealing +such a blow to those he loved. There was no pretence, no veil, however +thin, no excuse. It was money, money, money. She had encouraged Harry +when she thought him rich, dropped him angrily, resentfully, as one +drops a kitten that has scratched one, when she knew he was poor, and +sprung at him again the moment his fortunes mended. And he was the son +of the best friends he had. He had left Waterchurch without seeing +Lady Harriet, for he had felt unable to face her. + +They pulled up at the toll on the near side of Llangarth, where the +gatekeeper gave them what information he had. The carriage had gone +through Crishowell very early, before it was light, and had repassed +on its return journey about a quarter-past six--maybe twenty past, or +thereabouts--he could not tell exactly. There was a lady in a black +veil. He knew that, because he had turned the lantern on the inside of +the carriage, and the gentleman who paid the toll was young--fair, he +thought--but he couldn't say; he didn't know them, not he, for he was +new to the place, but the gentleman had seemed in a hurry. He could +give no further clue. But it was enough. + +They drove on to the Bull Inn, which was the only posting-house in the +town, and Mr. Fenton sprang out and went in to find the landlord. + +"Ain't a pair left in the place," said an ostler, who emerged from the +stable. "The 'ole lot's out." + +He began mechanically to take the Squire's horse out of the shafts. + +The landlord's tale was the same. There was a postchaise, but nothing +to put into it; they might get something at the next posting-house in +Welchurch, seven miles on. + +"What is that over there?" inquired the Vicar, pointing to a brown +muzzle which was pushed out of a box at the end of the court. + +"That's my old horse, sir, that I drive myself." + +"Let me have that in my shafts," said the Squire, "and I'll make it +good to you." + +In a few minutes they were on their way again with their faces to +Hereford, and the landlord's horse, who had good blood in his veins, +had put his head into the collar. The reason that they had been +unsuccessful in getting what they wanted was simple enough; every pair +was out on the road for Harry. + +The long tedium of the miles seemed interminable till they reached +Welchurch, and the white faces of the milestones as they went past +were the only things either man had the heart to notice. They were +rewarded at last by the sight of the inn and by finding on inquiry +that there was a light chaise and a pair of horses to be got. They +took their seats grimly and set off on the next stage at a gallop. + +It was twenty minutes past eleven when they drew up at the Green +Dragon in Hereford, and the Squire and the Vicar got out, stiff after +thirty miles of sitting cramped in their seats. They did not expect +Harry to leave his carriage at so prominent a place as the chief hotel +in Hereford, should he mean to stay in the town, but they looked round +the courtyard for the possible sign of an arrival. The place was quiet +and vacant as they asked hurriedly for news, and, finding none, +started for a humbler inn hard by at which they hoped they might come +upon some trace of the couple. Sure enough, as they entered its +precincts, they saw a carriage, splashed with mud and standing empty; +beside it was a pair of unharnessed horses being groomed by two +stable-helpers. + +"Where has that carriage come from?" inquired Mr. Fenton of one. + +The lad stopped hissing through his teeth and stood with the brush +midway between himself and his horse. + +"Can't say, I'm sure. I don't know nothin' about it." + +"But how long has it been in, boy?" + +"About half-an-hour or more. That's 'im over there in the stable." + +The two men looked round, almost expecting to see Harry, and met the +postillion's red countenance and hilarious glance which beamed at them +from a doorway; evidently he had had refreshment after his exertions, +and, from the satisfaction on his face, it seemed unlikely that he had +paid for it himself. He came forward rather unsteadily. + +"Have you come from Llangarth?" cried Mr. Fenton, pointing over his +shoulder at the muddy vehicle. + +The man smiled and laid his finger along the side of his nose; whoever +was responsible for his entertainment had not done the thing by +halves. Then he stood a moment, his legs wide apart and his thumbs in +the armholes of his open jacket, eyeing the gentlemen with vacillating +complaisance. + +"That 'ud be lettin' the cat out of 'er bagsh," he replied slowly, +turning away with what he supposed to be dignity. + +Mr. Fenton sprang after him, raising his cane, but the Vicar +interposed. "That will do no good; there is a much better way than +that," he said, as he took a couple of half-crowns out of his pocket. +"Look here, my man, which church did you drive them to?" + +"Don't know the name of it," replied the postillion, with a guileful +look. "Unless you're come to m--marry 'em?" he added, suddenly +realizing Mr. Lewis' clerical dress. + +The Vicar hated a lie of any kind, and hesitated, but his companion +had no such scruples. + +"We shall be late if you don't tell us," he broke in, "and they will +not be married to-day. It's getting on for twelve." + +The man stood scratching his head; his mind was turned upside down in +a chaos of beer, and there was nothing to suggest that the two +gentlemen who had walked into the yard had been travelling post haste. + +At this moment the Vicar slipped the two half-crowns into his hand. +The recipient shook his head as he pocketed them. + +"That 'ud _never_ do," he observed, in an access of tipsy morality. +And, beckoning mysteriously, he led the way into the street. + +"Thatsh shurch," he said, laying a careful hold upon Mr. Fenton's coat +collar, and pointing to a spire which rose, not a hundred yards away, +from a railed graveyard. + +The two men hurried on, for they had no wish to be heralded down the +street by the staggering figure. They arrived at the gate just as +Isoline and Harry were emerging from the porch. + +The level of the street was below that of the building, and a flight +of steps ran up to the door. Bride and bridegroom stood at the top, +arm in arm. On Harry's face, caught full by the light, was the trace +of strong feeling and an infinite tenderness for the woman at his +side; it was humble too, for he felt he had not deserved so much. He +turned to her, and, in so doing, perceived his father and the Vicar +looking up at them from the pavement below. Isoline saw them too, and +launched a glance of triumph at them; the hour she had waited for had +come, and her only regret lay in the fact that Lady Harriet was not +present also. She carried a little silk bag that hung by ribbons to +her arm, and she twirled it light-heartedly as she looked down at the +two grey-headed men. + +The man and wife descended the narrow steps, Harry drawing back to let +her pass on in front. She sailed forward and paused at the bottom +within a few paces of her uncle and her father-in-law, hesitating +whether to speak to them or not; the former's expression was a study +in mortification and pain, of which she took no notice. Catching the +Squire's eye, she made a little curtsey that she hoped might express +some of the dignity in which she henceforth intended, as Mrs. Fenton, +to wrap herself. But there was something in her which made it a +failure. + +Harry went straight up to his father, feeling that he could confront +any one or anything with calmness in the glad knowledge of what had +just occurred, but the Squire waved him off. He met Mr. Lewis' face of +reproach. + +"I will take care of her, be assured, sir," he said. Then, finding +that the Vicar made no reply, he turned and followed his wife, who was +walking slowly up the street. The two men went into the church to look +at the register. + +It was midday when the newly-married pair reached the inn where they +had left their postchaise, for the wedding had taken place a little +later in the morning than they intended. On driving to the church they +had found two other people waiting to be married, and, as the first +arrivals, the clergyman had taken them before Harry and Isoline. She +had looked at the woman who stood before the altar with some interest, +for she was beautiful with a beauty unusual in country girls of her +class, and her face showed that she felt every word of the service; +the man was a young labourer of the massive type, who wore a purple +neckcloth with a bird's-eye spot. + +When their own marriage was over and the other one going on, the first +couple had gone into the graveyard for a short time and sat down +together on a bench; it seemed as if they wished to realize quietly +what had happened to them. When they came out they walked past the +inn, and the two brides came face to face. Isoline stood by the door +while Harry spoke to the landlord, and there was admiration in Mary's +eyes as she looked at the pretty lady in the feathered hat and the fur +through which her cheek bloomed like a blush rose. The little cloud on +Mrs. Fenton's brow had lifted, and as she saw it she half smiled. Had +she known the history of the girl she smiled at she would have drawn +aside her skirt so that she might not so much as touch her with the +hem of her garment. + +Mr. Fenton and the Vicar retraced their journey the same afternoon and +parted, sadly enough, in Llangarth. The Squire took the chaise and +post-horses on to Waterchurch, and the other, whose vehicle had been +left at the Bull Inn, agreed to drive his friend's horse back to +Crishowell and to give it a night's rest before sending it home next +day. + +He drove through the streets, tired in every limb and sore at heart. +He felt worn out and disgusted with everything, and physically very +weary; he had not remembered so vividly that he was seventy odd years +old for a long time. + +He went so slowly and was so much lost in his own thoughts that the +horse had been brought to a standstill almost before he noticed a +thin, shabby woman who had run from the door of a house, and was, with +unexpected energy, taking hold of the bridle. + +"Stop!" she cried, raising her hand. + +The Vicar pulled up, leaning out from under the hood, and she came up +close and laid hold of the dashboard, as though to prevent him +forcibly from continuing his way. + +"There's a man dying," said the woman, panting a little, "an' he wants +you. You'll have to be quick, sir; he's mortal bad. Up there." + +Mr. Lewis looked at the house she pointed at, a tumble-down building +which faced the road. + +"It's Hosea Evans," she went on; "he's come out o' jail a fortnight." + +"The landlord of the Dipping-Pool? It's the Methodist parson he wants, +not me." + +"Not him. He's been a-calling out for you all the morning. I was just +off to Crishowell when I see'd you go by the door. He's pretty nigh +done, an' he's crying out for you. There's somethin' on his mind, an' +he says he can't tell no one else." + +Mr. Lewis turned the horse's head, his own troubles retreating, as +they were apt to do, before those of other people. Following his +guide, he entered a small, dirty room. It was getting dusk outside, +which made the miserable place dark enough to prevent his seeing +anything but the one ghastly face in the corner lit up by a candle +which stood on a chair by the bed. There was the movement of a dim +form in the room, and the doctor who attended the very poor in the +town rose from the place where he had been sitting. The woman +approached the dying man and whispered close to his ear; a wan ray of +relief touched his face, and he moved his hands. + +"He is very near his end," said the doctor. "It is typhoid. These +jails are not all that they should be, I am afraid. He has been a bad +character too, poor wretch." + +The Vicar went up to Hosea, and the shabby woman moved the candle away +so that he might sit on the chair beside him. + +"I can't see," said Evans thickly. + +"I am here," said Mr. Lewis, laying his hand on the wrist from which +the pulse was fast ebbing; "what can I do for you, my brother? Shall I +pray?" + +Hosea moved his head feebly. + +"No, no; I want to speak a bit, but I can't, I'm that done." + +The doctor poured some liquid into a cup and held it to his lips. + +"Try to swallow," he said, "it will help you." + +The innkeeper made an effort and swallowed a little. + +"Come near," he whispered, and the Vicar leaned down. "I killed +Vaughan," he said, "not Rhys Walters." + +Mr. Lewis was so much astonished that he did not know what to say, and +merely looked into the man's face to see whether or not he was in full +possession of his senses. + +"Then that is what has been troubling you?" he said at last. + +Hosea made a sign of assent. "Me it was," he continued feebly, "me, +an' not him. We both struck at him together, an' my stick came down on +his head and laid him his length. His no more than shaved his +shoulder." + +"Are you certain that what you say is true?" asked the Vicar, who was +suspecting the dying man of an hallucination, but who began to see +sense in the circumstantiality of his words. "If you killed him, why +did Walters fly so suddenly without another blow?" + +"He was blinded. A stone took him in the face as he let out, an' he +never knew 'twarn't himself as did for him. So he went off +smart-like----" + +The effort to speak plainly was almost too much for Evans. He lay +looking at the Vicar with eyes that seemed to be focussed on something +very far beyond the room. + +"And is that everything you want to tell me?" asked Mr. Lewis, bending +down in answer to a faint gesture. + +The dying man signed for the cup in the doctor's hand, and, when a few +more drops had been poured down his throat, he spoke again. + +"There's the money too." + +"What money, my man?" + +"My money. I've a mortal lot--the box below the bed. It's for her, an' +you'll tell her it warn't him, not Rhys Walters. It's to keep her. +'Tis all I can do now." + +"But who do you mean, Evans? Try to tell me." + +"Mary--Mary Vaughan. She was a good lass, an' 'twas me killed him." + +His voice paused, but his lips moved, and the Vicar could just +distinguish the word "box." + +"Shall I draw it out from under the bed?" + +Hosea smiled faintly. + +They pulled out a thick, black wooden box about a foot square, and +placed it on the mattress beside him; his eyes lit up as he saw it, +and his fingers worked. He had been called a "near" man in his time, +and the Vicar remembered that, as landlord of the Dipping-Pool, he had +always had credit for being well off, in spite of the poor place he +inhabited. When the lid was opened there proved to be nothing inside +it but a stuff bag. The sight of it seemed to give Evans strength. +"All notes," he said, "a hundred pound an' over. Count them." + +Mr. Lewis began to do so, Hosea's sunken eyes following every movement +of his lips. There was in bank notes one hundred and five pounds, and +in coin fifteen shillings and tenpence. + +"Now write," said the innkeeper, "quick." + +It was not easy to find pen, ink and paper, and the woman was obliged +to go out and borrow what was necessary from a more advanced +neighbour; but when this had been done, the Vicar wrote out the simple +sum of Hosea's wishes. It was plain enough; everything he owned was to +go to Mary Vaughan unreservedly. He was past writing, but he insisted +on the pen being given him, and, with the doctor supporting him in his +arms, he made a mark where Mr. Lewis had written his name. The two men +witnessed it and added their own signatures. + +"You are happier now that we have done that, are you not?" said Mr. +Lewis. "You can trust me to see Mary Vaughan at once, and I will take +care that what you want is carried out. It is right that you should do +all you can for her. There is nothing else?" + +"No," said Hosea, though his eyes belied his words. "I've been a bad +man," he whispered, after a silence. "I suppose you can't do nothin' +for me?" + +"I can pray," said the other, as he went down on his knees by the bed. + +He began the commendatory prayer for the dying, and as his voice ran +steadily on, the room grew very still. Only the cries and footsteps in +the street outside broke the quiet. The doctor was kneeling too. The +window-pane showed like a thing far away in a dream, a little blue +square in the close-crowding walls that pressed upon Hosea's dying +eyes. The candle guttered and went out, and the Vicar finished his +prayer in the dark. + +When the last word was said, the doctor approached and struck a light. +There was nothing left of the innkeeper but the poor, earthly husk +that had clothed his imperfect soul, lying on the bed. + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +NEW YEAR'S EVE + +THE Pig-driver had been absent from his usual haunts for more than ten +days, business having taken him on a stealthy tour of inspection to +the connecting links of his trade; it was a duty which called to him +at the end of each year, and he had returned this time lighter of +heart than ever, for his affairs were flourishing, and the books so +carefully kept by his nephew told a promising tale. + +It was New Year's Eve; a year and more since Rhys' and Harry's lives +had crossed under the shadow of the Black Mountain in that unconscious +rivalry which their destinies had forced upon them; a year since Mary +had looked her last upon her lover's face as he rode away from the +Dipping-Pool. In the great shuffle which a year will sometimes bring +to groups of people whose lives concentrate in the same circle, +Bumpett was the unchanged one, as he shambled into Crishowell to hear +what local news had cropped up since his departure. + +As he went along between the houses a burst of singing, which came +like a gust of wind from a cottage a little way in front, caught his +attention and made him smile. He smiled because he intended to spend +the night in the village and because he knew very well that no +conviviality was considered complete without his presence, more +especially on an occasion so important as the seeing-out of the Old +Year. He moistened his lips with his tongue and hurried forward, a +pleasant anticipation on his face; it was little more than eight +o'clock, and there was a deal in the way of joviality possible before +midnight. + +He paused outside the house, like the discreet man he was, to see if +he could identify any of the voices before committing himself to their +society. A new song was beginning, and he recognized it as one called +"Mary Morris" which had come from the mining districts, and which was +very popular in the neighbourhood. It was sung by a single voice, and +set forth the rather irregular loves of the mining character who was +its hero. At the last line of each verse the company joined in with an +ardour and a breadth of vowel which bid fair to rouse the village. + +There was a large stone outside the door, the remains of an old +horse-block, and on this the Pig-driver sat down to listen. + +The singer made one or two false starts, and finding himself +invariably landed in a higher key than he had bargained for, seemed +inclined to desist but for the encouragements of his audience, which, +at last, launched him safely upon the surging wave of the tune. + + "O! Mary Ma-awris! + Why was you leave me? + You leave me all alone, most fit to break my he-a-art! + You have gone and left me, + All alone so cruel, + Never am I happy since you and I was pa-art!" + +"Since yew an' oi was pa-a-art!" roared the chorus. + + "O! Mary Ma-awris! + I was love your sister, + I was love your sister most so well nor you! + And my heart was broken + Like a crochan chinay;[1] + Once that you have broke him, never can put him to! + Never can put him to-o-o!" + +Here the audience began to stamp to the tune, and the singer raised +his voice yet a little higher. + + "O! Mary Ma-awris! + I'm living at Penpulchwyth; + When you come to Merthyr, mind you come to me; + Though I be married + To another 'ooman, + Come in straight, O Mary, an' never mind for she! + Never moind for she-e-e! + + O! Mary Ma-awris! + We will be so happy, + We will be so happy, like a king and queen; + I will mind the farm, and + You shall mind the babies, + And we will be so bewtiful as never before was seen! + As never before was see-e-en!" + +Almost as the last long-drawn syllable died away, the door opened and +a man came out, who, not noticing Bumpett till he all but fell over +him, jumped back with an exclamation. The Pig-driver was taken with a +fit of laughter. + +"Who be you?" inquired the man, when he had collected his wits. + +"'Tis just me, Bumpett o' Abergavenny, listenin' to the music. Didn't +expect to find me, did ye? What sort of a feller is that singin'? I +can't mind his voice." + +"Williams o' Tan-y-bulch. He's a fine talker too; tells ye as many +lies an' bad words in an hour as I could in a week." + +"And who else?" + +"Stevens an' Griffiths an' Prosser an' William Pritchard an' old Job +Hondy. There's only a few more because of the drinking up at Price's." + +Price was the carpenter, and his house was the usual meeting-place of +the Pig-driver's set. + +"I'm going up there myself," continued the man. "The jug's getting +pretty nigh empty here, an' I don't see my way to giving 'em no more. +I'll start fair over there, ye see." + +"Then it's you that's payin' for their treat?" + +"Yes, yes, 'tis my party. There's just enough left i' the jug to keep +them quiet till I've had my turn over at Price's afore they all be +after me. I'll be gone then, afore they do come." + +"But you don't own this house," said Bumpett, rather mystified; "I've +never seen you before." + +"An' you don't see me now," rejoined the other, with an airy glance +into the darkness, "nor _they_ won't see me neither after I've had my +drink." + +"Well, you _have_ a right notion o' things--I can see that, anyhow," +said the Pig-driver, beginning to like his acquaintance. "I'll step +down wi' you to Price's." + +"Best not," said his companion dubiously. + +"Oh, but that I will," replied Bumpett, winding his arm confidingly +through that of the stranger. The other proceeded rather unwillingly, +but the old man would take no denial. + +"But that's Pritchard's house," he began again, jerking his thumb +towards the place they had come from; "how be you come to pay for the +drink in it?" + +"I haven't paid yet," replied the other cheerfully. + +"Any news flyin' about the town?" inquired Bumpett, after one or two +vain attempts at forcing his companion's confidence. "It's goin' ten +days since I was hereabouts, and I haven't had a word wi' no one." + +"It depends what you call news," said the stranger. "For my part, +there's little can flummox me. Have e' heard of the young Squire down +Waterchurch way runnin' off to Hereford last week? Took the Parson of +Crishowell's niece along wi' him, an' was married safe an' sound like +a man. The old Squire was after him, an' Parson Lewis, an' though they +battered shameful at the church door--so they say--'twarn't no use. +The lock was turned till they was tied tight. Not that that flummoxes +me though; why I tell 'e----" + +"Well, well, that's all news to me," exclaimed the Pig-driver, with +whom admiration was beginning to oust every other sentiment. "I must +get down to Price's afore any o' them's gone, an' hear the rights o' +that." + +"The rights? Bean't I tellin' 'e the rights? What more do ye want nor +what I've told ye?" + +"No offence," said the Pig-driver hurriedly. + +"Ye don't seem to know much about nothin'," continued his friend, +unmollified. "Now, for me, there's not a thing done within twenty mile +but I know it all pat afore ye can so much as put your thumb to your +nose. Why, the breath wasn't out of Evans o' the Dipping-Pool's body, +an' I knew where his money was to land. That's me all over." + +Bumpett dropped his arm with a jerk. + +"Did 'e say Evans? Hosea Evans?" + +"I did; an' I'll say it again if ye've any fancy for jumpin' like +that. He's as dead as a nail. Died just after he come out of jail, an' +left every damn penny o' two hundred pound to the toll-keeper's wench +that used to keep company wi' Rhys Walters." + +This time the Pig-driver was not to be borne down by any superfluous +knowledge on the part of his companion. + +"She's lucky," he observed shortly. + +"And so's the chap that's married her. His name's Williams, and he +used to live in a queer enough place up by the mountain, and do a turn +at hedgin' now an' again. Not much hedgin' now, I suppose. Livin' like +a lord, more likely." + +Bumpett's tongue grew dry, and he grinned mechanically; his lips +stretched and went back like pieces of elastic, and his friend, who +was waiting for some tribute to his superior information, could hear +odd sounds going on inside his mouth. + +"Ah, you didn't know that!" he exclaimed, "and I'll wager ye didn't +know 'twas him killed Vaughan an' not Rhys Walters. He came out with +it all on his death-bed to the Parson o' Crishowell." + +"Go on wi' ye!" broke out the Pig-driver. + +"That's all very fine," replied the stranger in a tone of offence, +"but just you go off to the police at Llangarth and see! Lewis an' the +doctor an' a woman was witness to it, an' it's written down in the +Law, I tell 'e. Like enough the Queen has it all at her fingers' ends +by now." + +It was half-an-hour later when Bumpett slipped unnoticed out of +Price's door into the darkness. He had left his new acquaintance in an +advanced state of intoxication among the revellers, where his varying +moods of confidence and pugnacity were beginning to make him something +of a nuisance. But the stranger had spoken truth and the old man had +heard the same from the lips of his friends. + +It was not only rage at the thought of George's good luck, though, +that was boiling in him, which drove him along at such a pace, it was +the far more disturbing knowledge of Rhys Walters' innocence. He +resolved to go to the cottage without an hour's delay, and by threats +or bribes to compel him to leave the country. He would, if all else +failed, tell him that his hiding-place was known to the police and +press on him any assistance to escape that his money or ingenuity +could command. + +He had been living in daily dread of his unprofitable servant's +indiscretion, and since the experience of the man with the dark +lantern had appeared in the local newspaper, he would have given much +to know him clear of England. And now, if Walters' own folly should +bring him to discovery, and he should learn that he was innocent of +Vaughan's death, the consequences might be dreadful. He would have to +suffer for his share in the Rebecca riot, but having done so he might +one day return to his own, damaged, perhaps, but with the stain of +blood-guiltiness off his hands, and live on the very scene of +his--Bumpett's--activities, a constant embarrassment and menace. It +was not likely that he would denounce malpractices in which he had +been involved, for the same drag would act on him as on the +Pig-driver's other subordinates, namely, their liability to suffer +side by side with their master. Sheep-stealing, though no longer a +capital offence, was punished heavily, and sane men do not usually +open the prison doors for themselves. But, of late, there had been +that about Rhys which forbade him to judge him as he would have judged +another man. He felt that it was desperately urgent. + +When he was clear of the village and beginning to ascend towards the +mountain he found it no easy matter to get forward; there was not a +star in the sky, and a damp mist, which, though he knew it not, was +enwrapping the higher country towards which he pressed, became thicker +at every step. The lane leading to the old cart track was scarcely +less deserted than itself, and his feet struck against heaps of loose +stones which the autumn rains had rolled here and there into shelving +heaps. He put his hand up to his face and cursed to meet the wet on +it. It was one of those nights so frequent in winter, a repetition of +the one through which Rhys had once felt his way to the Dipping-Pool. + +By the time he reached the cottage the enveloping fog was so thick +that he would not venture to trust himself upon the plank crossing the +water, but waded through, though the cold touch on his ankles made him +gasp. He groped round the end of the house till he found himself among +the gooseberry bushes of the garden. It was impossible to see +anything, and he could only guess at their position as he stumbled +along, pricking himself against the stems. When he came to one growing +by the wall he pushed it aside, guided by a faint light which came out +of the hole in the masonry behind it. From the little shine he +gathered that Rhys had not gone out and was in the cellar below. He +put his mouth to the aperture and called down it. + +After two or three vain attempts to make himself heard, the Pig-driver +could distinguish steps moving in the cellar. + +"'Tis me--Bumpett!" he cried. "Go you round to the door and let me +in." + +As he stood waiting for Walters to turn the key, he told himself that +he would not depart again without the young man's consent to leave; +but he wondered how he should manage the matter, for there seemed to +be nothing in the world by which he could keep a hold over him. It +must be done somehow, that was all he knew. + +It was quite dark in the upper part of the house as he entered and +followed Walters down the ladder. There was a light standing on a +piece of furniture, and Bumpett sat down by it on a broken chair and +looked up at his companion. He had seen him continually at short +intervals during the last six months, and the alteration in him had +not hitherto struck him as it would have struck a stranger. But, all +at once, in the wretched light, as the two confronted each other, the +Pig-driver saw through the veil of custom which had blinded him to the +ghastliness of the change in Rhys. A feeling akin to horror took him +by the throat as he sat and looked into the haggard face with the +black shadows thrown upwards by the candle lying upon it. Not that it +was pity or concern that moved him--he cared little enough for +anything that affected the man before him--but even he, coarse, +sordid, callous as he was, could feel that Rhys Walters had gone +beyond the reach of fear or hope, joy or malice, and that the grey +waters of despair divided him from the power of aught else but some +one influence which was working within him. Nothing could help or harm +him any more. The soul that looked out of his sunken eyes was one +pertaining no longer to the ordinary world of human beings with its +hates and loves, its ambitions and griefs; it was something which had +gone far off into a dominion of one idea. + +"What do you want?" asked Walters, laying his hand on the improvised +table and bringing his face into the circle of light. + +The shades cast round his jaw and cheek-bones made them stand out with +even greater prominence, and the hair, hanging unkempt on either side +of his brow, framed it in with dull black. He seemed to Bumpett +gigantically tall. + +"Look you," began the Pig-driver, folding his hands over his stick, +"there's no more use in dangling on here, an' ye must just pearten up, +Walters. It's time ye was out o' this. I've got a cousin down Cardiff +way, and if I could get ye off to him, he'd give ye a hand wi' some o' +they ship captains. Ye'd be out o' harm's reach then, an' a good job +too." + +For answer Rhys looked at him with a smile, not as though he were +smiling at him, but at something which he saw in his mind. + +"No," he said, shaking his head; "no, no." + +"Nonsense," rejoined Bumpett smartly. "I'm not trifling now, and out +o' this ye'll have to go, my lad." + +"Not I," said Rhys, his eyes hardening. + +"I tell 'e, go ye shall!" cried the old man. "'Tis my place, not +yours, an' not another bite nor sup can ye get when I stop sendin' the +food that keeps ye. I can turn ye out, an' I will too." + +"You daren't do that," said the other, looking sideways at him; +"there's no manner of use trying to frighten me. Put me out of this +house, and it's you that'll have to be on your way to Cardiff, not me. +And you'll be too late." + +"I'm speakin' for yer good," began the Pig-driver again, seeing that +threats could produce no effect. "Mind me, ye don't hear nothing hid +away in this black hole, but it's different wi' me. I get all the talk +o' the country-side, an' I know the police has got their noses turned +this way ever since ye let the fellar wi' the dark lantern get sight +o' ye on the mountain. It was all written i' the newspapers, so I did +hear. Old Job Hondy in Crishowell was tellin' me, for he got a loan of +the paper from Parson Lewis." + +A ray of interest lit up Rhys' face. + +"And I'll tell Hondy to ask for a sight of it again," continued +Bumpett, seeing that he had caught the other's attention, "an' bring +it up to show ye; leastways, if it's not lost wi' all the moyther he's +had i' the house wi' that young miss o' his." + +"What do you say?" exclaimed Walters, coming closer to Bumpett. + +"I said I'd get the newspaper an' show ye what ye've done wi' yer +tomfooleries." + +"What did you say about Mr. Lewis?" cried Rhys, taking hold of the +Pig-driver. + +"I said he was likely moythered wi' that young niece of his and her +doin's." + +"But she is in Hereford," broke out the young man. + +"In Hereford? Not she. She's off to London wi' young Squire Fenton. +Run out one mornin' when the old boy was between the blankets an' up +to Hereford an' got married to him. He's been left a fine fortune. She +didn't forget that, I'll be bound, no, no indeed." + +Bumpett had hardly time to end his sentence before Rhys sprang at him +like a wild cat and gripped him by the collar. + +"Liar!" he shouted, "liar! liar!" + +At every word he shook the old man as though he would jerk the life +out of him. + +The Pig-driver, though naturally cautious, was not altogether a +coward, and rage and bewilderment are sharp spurs. He struck out as +fiercely as he could; words were impossible, for he had not the breath +with which to utter them. When Walters threw him back into the chair +from which he had dragged him, he was livid and lay against the back +of it with hardly strength left in him to speak. + +"That's not true!" shouted Rhys, standing over him. "It's a lie! Speak +up, or I'll twist your neck like a jackdaw's!" + +His face was twitching all over and his hands clasped and unclasped +themselves. + +The Pig-driver opened his mouth. + +"The truth!" cried Rhys, "do you hear? The truth, or out of this you +don't go a living man!" + +"I've told ye the truth," snarled Bumpett. "'Twas no more nor last +week, an' every one knows it now." + +"It can't be, it can't be." + +"But I tell ye it is," cried Bumpett, turning the knife in the wound. +"She's a tiert lass, she is, not one o' the sort that gives a bean for +a pea." + +There was the silence of a moment, and there broke from Rhys a cry so +bitter, so despairing, that it seemed as though the heart from whose +depths it came had broken. Then he sank down by the table, and, laying +his head on his arms, sobbed like a little child, with his face hidden +on the sleeve of his shabby coat. + +It was not until the Pig-driver had been long gone that he raised +himself. The light had sputtered out beside him, and he got up and +groped his way to the ladder. He climbed to the room above, crossed +the threshold into the night, and set his face to the hills. + +----- + +[1] A broken jug. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE NEW YEAR + +AT Great Masterhouse the mist clung round the doors and crept like a +breathing thing against the windows, as though it would envelope and +cut it off from the rest of the living world. Inside the house there +was that sense of subdued movement which is caused by the presence of +many people all bent upon the same purpose, and the kitchen was +half-filled with men and women ranged on benches and chairs round the +walls and near the table. The light illumined their faces and threw +their shadows in varying degrees of grotesqueness against the +whitewash which formed the background. + +Beside the hearth, a little apart from the rest, sat Mrs. Walters in +the straight chair which she usually occupied, the upright pose of her +figure bearing a silent rebuke to some of those who had fallen into +glaringly human attitudes. Opposite to her was Nannie Davis. Between +them the great fire burned and glowed in the chimney under the high +mantel with its rows of brass candlesticks, which stood "with their +best side towards London," as the old woman said. + +The man in black who had preached in the little chapel when George had +been discovered asleep there by Anne was standing by the kitchen +table. His hand rested on an open Bible and he was reading from it in +a loud monotonous voice. In stature he was small and mean, but he +threw out his syllables with the assurance of one accustomed to sway +his audience. + +To-night he was lodged at Great Masterhouse, for the farm was his +head-quarters whenever his tour of preaching brought him to the Black +Mountain district. He had seldom visited the house without holding a +service in it at least once during his stay, and now, on the last +night of the old year, he had settled with Anne that a meeting should +take place near midnight, so that he and his hearers should have the +chance of beginning the new one in prayer and supplication. It was a +thing which had never been done before, and he hoped that some who +might otherwise have failed to be present would be drawn to it by +curiosity and the novelty of the experience. + +But, in spite of this, the room contained hardly more than thirty +people, as the thickness of the fog had made it very difficult for +those at a distance to push their way through the heavy darkness. As a +result it followed that the whole congregation was made up of really +earnest persons, and the preacher found himself so much in accord with +it that he was stirred to the depths by the moral support he felt in +the very air around. He threw his keen glance over the figures before +him, over the rough coats, heavy boots, and the hands clasped together +or resting open in the lassitude of physical weariness. To him they +were the little remnant saved from the burning, out of the many who +dwelt in bondage round them. He was a narrow man, zealous, untiring, +faithful in the least as in the greatest, sparing neither himself nor +others. He had walked many miles that day and he was to set out before +sunrise on the following morning for a far-off place, holding a +meeting half-way to his destination and preaching again in the barn +which would also be his shelter at night. It was no wonder if his +influence was great, for he possessed that which could drive his own +soul and body forward through physical as through mental struggle, +through hunger and cold, through fatigue and pain. He had the courage +of a lion and it shone out of the eyes in his small, fierce face. It +was the mighty heart in the little body, the little man and the big +odds, the thing which, through all time, will hold and keep and +fascinate humanity while there is an ounce of blood or nerve left in +it. + +The hands of the large, eight-day clock which stood with its back to +the wall were on their way from eleven to midnight, holding on their +course with a measured tick that had neither haste nor delay. It was +the only sound which seemed to have courage to defy the preacher's +voice, and it appeared to impress him in some way, for he glanced +towards it now and again during his reading and the prayers he +offered. Anne sat stiff and still in her place, and Nannie, who was +weary with the day's work and the unwonted vigil, began to nod. He +prayed on and on. + +It was a quarter to twelve when he rose from his knees to begin his +sermon, and those whose flesh was weaker than their spirit and whose +heads had begun to droop roused themselves as he stood up. + +He took his theme from the parable of the rich man who pulled down his +barns and built greater, saying to his soul, "Eat, drink, thou hast +much goods laid up for many years," and whose soul was required of him +that night. As he dwelt on the folly of looking forward, the danger of +spiritual delay, and the remorseless flight of the time which should +be spent in preparing for eternity, every face was turned towards him, +and even Nannie felt her attention compelled by his words and by the +force which poured from his vehement spirit. The eagerness of his +expression was almost grotesque as he leaned forward calling upon his +hearers to forsake their sins and to repent while there was yet time, +while the day of Grace yet lasted. + +"You are on the verge of another year," he began when he had read out +the parable, "and your feet are drawing nigh to the shores of +eternity. Are you ready--you, and you, and you--to face that change +that waits you? Can you meet the Messenger who may be in the middle of +your road as you return to your homes this very night? There can be no +looking back, no halting when the summons comes, as come it will, no +changing of a past that is the test by which you will stand or fall. +Every day that you live is an account sealed, a leaf turned over for +ever, a thing no one can take back. What is your account in the past?" + +He stopped and wiped the sweat from his face with his handkerchief. +The clock warned, and the hands pointed to a few minutes before the +hour. The preacher looked towards it. + +"And, as you sit here," he cried, "the Old Year is dragging out its +last moments and the New Year is coming up--even now we can hear its +footsteps drawing closer and closer----" + +He paused, holding up his hand as though to convey to his hearers' +minds the picture that he saw in his own. And, in the pause, it began +to be actually plain to their bodily senses. + +There was a dead silence and they sat holding their breath, rooted in +their places, for the sound of an approaching tread was surely coming +up the passage. + +The tension in the room was almost a tangible thing; men sat with +eyeballs fixed, and women grasped each other. On it came, nearer, +nearer, till it stopped at the door. The latch turned, and on the +threshold stood Rhys Walters. + +He did not come further, he only remained standing where he was, +looking at the familiar place and the people gathered in it. His +clothes were stained and torn, his hair was wet with mist, and the +angles of his thin shoulders were sharp beneath his coat. He looked at +Anne, rigid and spellbound upon the hearth, and a strange fear stirred +within her. Each in the room stared at him, dumb, and all were +conscious of something that had set its seal upon him and divided him +from themselves. + +Nannie's cry, as she ran to him, broke the bond of silence which held +them, and they rose, pressing towards the figure at the door. Before +she could reach him through the crowded medley of chairs and human +beings he had gone and his steps were echoing again down the flags of +the passage. + +Anne was behind her as she stood at the outer door straining her eyes +into the night and the thickness. The preacher, who had caught up a +lantern from a nail in the passage on which it hung, was holding it +up, and a bar of light stretched out and died in the fog; the men and +women came round, whispering and peering. + +Mrs. Walters went out into the courtyard calling Rhys' name, and +Nannie, down whose cheeks tears were running, began to implore the +bystanders to go out and find the man who had been, but a minute +before, in their midst. There was no sign nor sound, and through the +still air came only the monotone of a distant stream in the mountain, +heavy with recent rain. + +Anne turned mutely to the preacher; her lips were closed and she put +out her hand towards him; she looked strange and shaken. + +"I will go," he said. "Men, will you come with me?" + +About a dozen responded. The people belonging to Great Masterhouse +began to hunt in every outhouse and stable for more lanterns, and, +when they had found what they wanted, they filed out of the yard with +the little man in front of them. + +Anne and Nannie stood together watching the lights disperse on the +plateau. One was weeping; the other stood with her stony face to the +night. + + * * * * * * + +The dawn was near when Rhys toiled up a steep spur that jutted out +from the mass of the mountain. Though morning was at hand the fog +reigned below and only the levels above him were emerging from the +pall which had covered them for days. The summit of the Twmpa would +soon be lifting itself in the chill of daybreak. + +All night he had wandered, wandered. Once or twice he had seen the +flicker of lights in the hands of the searchers and, with an +unexplained instinct, had avoided them. He could not tell where he was +going, but he groped along. Twice he had sunk down exhausted and lain +in the bitter cold upon the hillside; once sleep had overtaken him and +he had spent a couple of hours on the earth, to awake numb and chilled +to the bone. But the force of his consuming spirit had driven him on, +and he now stood on a height and saw faintly the heavy waves of mist +that lay below him over the hidden world like the Valley of the +Shadow. + +His feet were on the utmost edge of a great chasm, but the driving +vapour which curled round them up to his knees hid from him the depths +that were down, sheer down, within a dozen inches of where he was +standing. Had any one been beneath him on the hills, and able to see +up through the density and the dark hour, they would have beheld the +solitary figure, erect, still, looking out over the space. There was +nothing before him but thick, stifling atmosphere. But he was +unconscious of that. + +For some time he stood, neither moving nor turning, facing eastwards. +As daybreak began to grow, he lifted his head, and, throwing out his +arms towards the coming light, he took one step forward. + +And so, in the dawning, passed the soul of Rhys Walters, beyond the +judgment or the mercy of man, into the unfaltering hand of the Eternal +Justice. In this sorry world it is one who can get justice for the +hundreds who get mercy--the mercy which, we are told, "blesseth him +that gives and him that takes." + +But Justice carries no perquisites. + +THE END + + + +RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, LONDON & BUNGAY. + + + +Transcriber's Note + +This transcription is based on two sets of images posted by the +Internet Archive of the 1902 edition published by Heinemann. The +first, digitized from a copy made available by the University of +California, is available at: + + archive.org/details/sheepstealers00jacoiala + +The second, digitized by Google from a copy made available by Stanford +University, is available at: + + archive.org/details/sheepstealers01jacogoog + +In addition, when there were further questions about the text, the +1902 American edition published by G. P. Putnam's Sons was consulted. +Images of this edition are available through the HathiTrust Digital +Library at: + + catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/008665608 + +The following changes were made to the printed text: + +-- p. 68: When it was held upside-down--Deleted the hyphen in +"upside-down" for consistency. + +-- p. 69: "Was it drink?' he asked after a pause.--Changed single +closing quotation mark after "drink?" to a double closing quotation +mark. + +-- p. 78: "Will ye listen to me?" said Bumpettt sharply.--Changed +"Bumpettt" to "Bumpett". + +-- p. 130: for he had always forseen the day--Changed "forseen" to +"foreseen" for consistency. + +-- p. 146: even high mindedness costs its owner something.--Inserted a +hyphen between "high" and "mindedness" in keeping with the American +edition. + +-- p. 156: how the sudden revelation of his masculinity had effected +her--Changed "effected" to "affected" in keeping with the American +edition. + +-- p. 221: for the extreme geniuneness of his nature--Changed +"geniuneness" to "genuineness". + +-- p. 234: A pang of apprehension went through him--Added a period at +the end of the sentence. + +-- p. 236: He swore under his breath."--Deleted the closing quotation +mark at the end of the sentence. + +-- p. 261: observed Howlie to Llewllyn--Changed "Llewllyn" to +"Llewellyn". + +-- p. 288: there wern't no more ado--Changed "wern't" to "weren't". + +-- p. 289: when she had managed to control herself a liitle--Changed +"liitle" to "little". + +-- p. 313: I shouldn't wonder if he were siting there--Changed +"siting" to "sitting". + +-- p. 314: "What an extraordinary hour for any one to come," exclamed +Lady Harriet.--Changed "exclamed" to "exclaimed". + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sheep-Stealers, by Violet Jacob + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 57427 *** |